Streams in the Desert

5:1.) HE owner of the tenement which I have occupied for many years has given notice that he will furnish but little or nothing more for repairs. I am advised to be ready to move.

At first this was not a very welcome notice. The surroundings here are in many respects very pleas¬ ant, and were it not for the evidence of decay, I should consider the house good enough. But even a light wind causes it to tremble and totter, and all the braces are not suf¬ ficient to make it secure. So I am getting ready to move.

It is strange how quickly one's interest is transferred to the prospective home. I have been consulting maps of the new country and reading descriptions of its inhabitants. One who visited it has returned, and from him I learn that it is beautiful beyond description; language breaks down in attempting to tell of what he heard while there. He says that, in order to make an investment there, he has suffered the loss of all things that he owned here, and even rejoices in what others would call mak¬ ing a sacrifice. Another, whose love to me has been proven by the greatest possible test, is now there. He has sent me sev¬ eral clusters of the most delicious fruits. After tasting them, all food here seems insipid.

Two or three times I have been down by the border of the river that forms the boundary, and have wished myself among the company of those who were singing praises to the King on the other side. Many of my friends have moved there. Before leaving they spoke of my coming later. I have seen the smile upon their faces as they passed out of sight. Often I am asked to make some new investments here, but my answer in every case is,"I am getting ready to move."— Selected.

The words often on Jesus'lips in His last days express vividly the idea,"going to the Father."We, too, who are Christ's people, have vision of something beyond the difficulties and dis¬ appointments of this life. We are journeying towards fulfill¬ ment, completion, expansion of life. We, too, are"going to the Father."Much is dim concerning our home-country, but two things are clear. It is home,"the Father's House."It is STREAMS IN THE DESERT, the nearer presence of the Lord. We are all wayfarers, but the believer knows it and accepts it. He is a traveller, not a settler. —R. C. Gillie.

The little birds trust God, for they go singing From northern woods where autumn winds have blown. With joyous faith their trackless pathway winging To summer-lands of song, afar, unknown.

Let us go singing, then, and not go sighing: Since we are sure our times are in His hand, Why should we weep, and fear, and call it dying?'Tis only flitting to a Summer-land. — Selected,