"A Religion for all Weathers."
THERE is a fishing village on the coast of Cornwall, where the people are very poor, but pious and intelligent. Last year they were sorely tried. The winds were contrary, and for nearly a month they could not put to sea. At last one Sabbath morning the wind changed, and some of the men whose faith was weak went out towards the beach, the woman and children looking on sadly, many of them saying with sighs, "I'm sorry it's Sunday, but—" "If we were not so poor—" "But if," said a sturdy fisherman, starting up and speaking aloud, "surely, neighbors, you're not going with your buts and ifs to break God's law?" The people gathered around him, and he added, "Mine's a religion for all weathers, fair wind and foul. 'This is the love of God that ye keep his law.' 'Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy;' that's the law. True, we are poor; but what of that? Better poor, and have God's smile, than rich, and have his frown. Go, you that dare; but I never knew any good come of a religion that changed with the wind." These words in season stayed the purpose of the rest. They went home and made ready for the house of God, and spent the day in praise and prayer. In the evening just when they would have been returning, a sudden storm sprang up, that raged terribly for two days. After the tempest came settled weather, and the pilchard fishery was so rich and abundant, that there was no complaining in the village. Here was a religion for all weathers. Remember the words, "Trust in the Lord, and do good, and verily thou shalt be fed."