Religion for Bright Days.
RELIGION is often commended to us as a comfort in sorrow and a support, in the dread hour of death. The young, the hale, and the joyous, listening to the seducing whispers of their poor, weak hearts, are tempted to conclude that it is not for them. They are bound to enjoy life; they feel as if religion would only burden them. But it should not be thought for a moment that religion is suited only to suffering and gloomy scenes. It is meant for the whole of life,—for its fair weather and its storms,—for the peaceful home and the peril of the battle-field,—for Sabbaths and week-days,—for the elastic spring of youth and the tottering step of age. It is true that religion is most needed in times of tribulation, just as the mariner most needs the aids of science when the storm comes and the sea is rough. What would you think of the voyager who should neglect to take with him the acknowledged requisites for safe navigation, because he was putting out to sea on a bright day, and was likely for the present to have plenty of way-marks to sail by? When the night and the cloud hide his way-marks, and he can see neither sun nor star, and the tempest beats upon him, he will want these helps. Would they have rendered his clear days and fair sailing less pleasant and happy? "Wisdom is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her."—Sel.