_But the thorns!_ Not a single little rosebud without a thorn, yet so beautiful in other respects. Before Adam's fall, roses grew in Eden without thorns. Thorns are a badge of the curse, and even the smallest child has the thorn of sin. And how often we see it manifest! The thorn of pride, the thorn of self-will, the thorn of temper, the thorn of deceit. But, dear young friends, are these thorns a trouble to you? Would you like their power destroyed, and guilt pardoned? Listen, then, to God's way of salvation. As we gathered the roses, the thorns pricked our hands. But never mind that. We love them too much to mind a few pricks. Have you ever thought how the thorns (as long as your finger) were plaited into a crown, and pierced the head of Jesus? Yes, He loved His children so much that He willingly endured even the "nails," as well as the thorns, that they might be for ever saved from the wrath to come. A child once cried for fear when a wasp was near, but his mother said, "Don't fear, my child! It has left its sting in my hand. It won't hurt you." Yes, Jesus has been pricked and stung by sin that His people may for ever be delivered from its fatal power. May you, dear young friends, from a living faith, be enabled to commit your soul into His keeping who is able to "save unto the uttermost all that come unto God through Him." But how easily many of the roses scattered! We only touched the branch, and they were gone. Such is life! We may be in full bloom one day, but in a moment we may be carried into eternity. "We all do fade as a leaf." The longest life is but brief. Then well may we pray-- "Prepare me, gracious God, To stand before Thy face; Thy Spirit must the work perform, For it is all of grace." EBENEZER. "KEEP THE STAR IN SIGHT." On a wild spot on the coast of Cornwall I fell in with Will Treherne. He was as sound an "old salt" as ever manned a lifeboat or went aloft in a gale of wind. He was getting an old man when I used to see him sitting on the beach, when his day's work was done, smoking his pipe and gazing at the evening star. He told us boys stirring stories of sea life and adventure. One evening he narrated the following:-- "Thirty years ago, in just such a night as this, the wind whistling as it does now, with the sea rising, and with as crazy a craft as seamen ever sailed in, I found myself drifting along a dangerous coast. "Our captain was an experienced one, and, when he saw what weather we were threatened with, he took his place at the wheel, and did his best to keep our courage up. He was in terribly poor health, but his spirits rose above his bodily weakness, and he gave his orders with a pluck and decision that made men of every one of us. "'Will Treherne,' he cried, 'stand by me if you can be spared. My strength is going. Do you see that star right ahead?' "'Yes, sir.'