THE WANDERER
WITHOUT A GUIDE.

I HAVE just been reading of one who climbed the Cheviot hills, taking a guide with him to direct him the road. No sooner had he gained the summit, than, finding the prospect fair, and desiring to be at perfect liberty, he sent away his guide. Alas! for a thick mist soon came on; and though he had found his way up the hills with a guide, he could not find his way down the hills without one; so that midnight found him wandering alone and in darkness, bewailing his folly.

I am afraid that our Cheviot friend is not the only one, by a great number, that has fallen into this mistake. Many-and my mind sadly misgives me, that he who is now noting down this remark is among them-many are more fond of guiding others than of being guided themselves. Where there is one of us deceived by a too humble

204 THE WANDERER WITHOUT A GUIDE.

estimate of his acquirements, there are ten led astray by a proud opinion of their qualifications.

If it were unwise to wander alone on the Cheviot hills, having no guide at hand in case of difficulty or danger, how foolish will it be in the Christian to dispense with his guide in crossing the hills and the valleys which lie between him and the end of his pilgrimage! What are the mists of the Cheviot hills compared with the obscurity that ever and anon awaits him? There are bogs and quagmires, brakes and briers, quicksands and miry sloughs, stumbling-blocks and horrible pits in his path, that, without a guide, he can hardly hope to escape. Christian Pilgrim, is the of the road in thy hand? Is the Book of books read by thee with a desire for instruction, and consulted by thee on every emergency, with humility, prayer, hope, faith, and confidence? Cast not from thee this guide of thy youth and thy age; so shalt thou be led safely through the mists which rise around thee; so shall the crooked paths of thy way be made straight, and the rough places plain.

map

THE OA K.

it was.

"that

"Do you not think," said a friend to me, the oak yonder is a very fine one?" I thought "And do you not think that the trunk is very sound?" I certainly believed it to be so; but what was my surprise, when I went up close to the tree, and, looking on the other side, found out my mistake.

Though the oak was fair to the eye on one side, and put forth goodly branches and abundance of foliage, yet, on the other, it was altogether decayed away. It was not merely hollow, but the whole side of the tree was gone, bark and stem; and even the inside of the part that looked well was like touchwood, with thousands of small round holes made by insects and worms, so that it seemed as if it had been pierced with shot in all directions. Many a decayed tree have I seen in the course of my life, but never one which so much deceived me as this gnarled oak.

We stood looking at the tree for some time, as it seemed to set forth a useful lesson. There it

T

It

was, with its best side towards the foot-path. looked fresh and green, it put forth its leaves, it bore acorns, and oak-balls, and yet it had no heart; it was rotten at the core.

Most likely the gnarled oak had deceived hundreds of people; for the passer-by would hardly suspect that so good-looking a tree would turn out to be so greatly decayed and perished. How is it with you? Have you been a deceiver? It is possible that you have deceived others, and yourself too; but it is not possible for you to have deceived God.

The gnarled oak, fair and flourishing as it now appears, is not likely to stand many years longer, for it has no heart. Its branches will decay, so that neither oak-ball, nor acorn, nor green leaves, will be seen upon them; and then, perhaps, will the owner of the tree say, "That old, heartless oak no longer affords shade and shelter to the sheep and cattle, nor does it look pleasant to the eye; it must be felled." "Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?"

And is there no danger of the same sentence being passed upon you, if you have no heart to love God? Did you never read the words, "The soul that sinneth, it shall die?" Ezek. xviii. 4. Surely you must have both heard and read them. Hasten, then, as a sinner, to the Saviour of sinners,

that when the trees of the field shall be no more seen, you may flourish as a cedar in the paradise of God.

The Saviour is willing to receive you. "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," 1 John i. 8, 9.

You will, perhaps, never see the gnarled oak which I have described to you; but never mind that, for the first hollow tree that you meet with may remind you of it, and then you may call to remembrance what you have now read.