TOIL OR TUNNEL?

BY SOPHIA M. NUGENT.

AN you ever look at even the slightest sketch of a mountain with its summit clear against the sky, and not feel the longing to climb I never can. Every hill is to me an invitation to rise and stand above the low level where mists and smoke gather and thicken, to where the air is clear and free, and whence the view is wide and far. And if the clouds are thick round their summit, the longing to pierce through and see what is beyond is all the greater.

Now I want you to climb with me this height which our picture brings before us. It gives us one of the most familiar mountain passes in Europe. It is one of the great range which separates France and Italy, and is named Mont Cenis. The instinct of "getting to the other side" has always been strong in men's hearts, and though these heights prevented the dwellers on both sides from mingling it did not prevent their meeting. But the toil and travail in crossing were terrible, and not to be lightly taken, and so the easiest ways were sought out. More than a thousand years ago, our Mont Cenis was known and used as the chief way of access into Italy. From our own country, before it had its name of England, and separate kings ruled and warred in it, many pilgrim bands yearly went to Rome. What they suffered no one can tell. Robber bands hid in the deep recesses of the Pass, and watched for the passing of the unarmed pilgrim hosts, to plunder and spoil them. Fiercer enemies even than the robbers met them also, in the fearful cold, if they crossed in the winter time. If an Archbishop was frozen to death in passing over, as once happened, we can guess what the poorer pilgrims must have endured.

to leave the keen winter.

For centuries after, this Pass was the connecting link between France and Italy. If you wanted to go from the sunny South of France into the still warmer and more fruitful Italy, you had first warmth, and rise higher and higher, and to brave the blasts of the summit, before you touched the sunny land. carried over the Pass, a marvel, as it wound higher and higher, and conquered every difficulty. This was used by thousands who drove or walked over its climbing ways.

A road was

So many travelled thus, that it came into the mind of one thoughtful man to make a railway over the Pass! And he succeeded, and his winding railway is what we see in the picture. It was so steep that

an ordinary line would not do, as the strongest engine would not have power to prevent the train from slipping back, and the ingenious plan was made of a third line of rails, with cavities. A middle wheel was placed on the carriages to correspond with this middle line; not a smooth wheel, but with cogs, which caught in the cavities of the rail, so that if the engine should stop, the cogs would fasten, and hold the train. This was called the "Fell" system, and for years this was used. You could go from one side to the other in a few hours now. What a change! From orange grove, up to snow, then down to myrtles and vines; from rich autumn to bleak winter! But a further thought struck other thoughtful men. "Why not pierce the mountain instead of climbing over it? Let us tunnel instead of toil!" And they set to work, and now, as everyone knows, the Mont Cenis Tunnel is yearly carrying thousands of passengers into Italy. There are other great tunnels now, the Brenner and the St. Gothard, but the Mont Cenis is the oldest and most frequented. Now, what used to take days and hours, can be got over in minutes. Now you sit at rest where before you used to toil; now you are carried through what you used to toil over. Instead of the frozen bands of weary pilgrims, battling with ice and snow, and death, for countless days and bitter nights, a few hours carry you from one country into the other.

It makes me think of other heights. Mountains represent difficulties as well as grandeur. Are there mountains of difficulties in your way? You are on a pilgrimage too. Like the pilgrims from England to Rome, we too are bound for a city; but a "City which hath foundations whose builder and maker is God." But stay, is it true? are you a pilgrim? Have you ever started? Have you entered the great entrance gate of this wondrous way? There is only one door. "I am the door," my Lord Jesus said. Have you entered? Then if so, you are a pilgrim. But it is not a smooth way. My Lord never promised that, and there are obstacles in the way. There is a Mont Cenis in every pilgrim's path, which he is bound to cross, and cannot evade. How will you get over it?

The three ways of crossing Mont Cenis remind me of three chief ways my Lord has of leading His pilgrim children over the Hill Difficulty. There was the toiling way, the train way, and the tunnel

way.

The first was a very long way; and the great height was only overcome by single step after single step, slow and steadfast. There were nights to be passed on the way; there were bitter blasts to be faced, and

strong bracing winds. Some have to cross this way now; others seem to get over obstacles in no time, but you are toiling on and on, and often the height above you seems no nearer being gained. What does He say to His toiler pilgrims? "Ye have need of patience, that after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise!" Thank Thee, my Lord, for saying that! It cheers me to know that Thou knowest and ownest that there is need of patience.

For others He has another kind of crossing, so He carries them over easily; they have not the toil of many, but cross quickly and gently, lifted over in leisure and song, and are soon on the other side. What word does He say to them? "Ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing!"

But now He changes His way again. Perhaps it is you and I who have to go by the tunnel way. We were out in the glad, bright light, and suddenly there was dense, deep darkness. Out again, but again whirled into the dark, just as before the great Mont Cenis Tunnel, there are nearly twenty small ones leading up to it. In and out, from dark to light, from joy to sorrow. It was bewildering. Why is this? we cried, others have nothing of this; for from the space between the gloom we can catch the upward road winding high, ever in the light. And while we wonder, we are whirled into something deeper yet; there are no flashes of light now, no light in the carriage, all is one solid mass of terrible deep blackness. Overhead there are 4,000 feet depth of rock, and the sense of it crushes. The air gets foul and thick, and we feel faint and weak, but just as we feel we can bear it no more we are flashed out into the bright, clear light, and a little town lies under us, which is the token that we have reached the new territory we were aiming for.

Is this the way you are being led? Through sorrow after sorrow, by darkness after darkness, by fearful pressure of spirit and mind, until you cry out, "What have I done, that I should be treated thus ? Others have not these awful shadows. See them there, toiling upward in the light, singing as they go; I cannot sing, I can scarcely breathe!"

"What have you done?" Then do you think the tunnel way is a punishment? Ah no, it is your Father's plan for bringing you on rapidly, and landing you into new regions of blessing before others. Now you only know the tunnel and the pressure, soon yours too shall be the glad sunlight, and the richer country sooner entered. What does He

THE TENder shepherd.

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say to you?" Consider Him, lest ye be wearied and faint. Consider Him who endured."

Am I saying that one way is better than another? Oh, no; for He is the Leader in all. Some need the bracing and the toil, the sharp winds and the chill blasts, and He gives them. Some need to be brought in rest, climbing all the time but resting as they go; and others need the discipline of the dark. He chooses, for He knows best.

Trust Him!

He says, "I will make all my mountains a way." If there are mountains in your way, which He has placed across your path, He will make them "a way," a positive means of progress, instead of the hindrance we thought them. Only follow Him. He says, "I am the Way!" "Thank God, our way is a Person!" He has been by every way; as He toiled by slow and weary steps, He cried out, "How am I straitened!" As He was carried on by easy ways, He too sang, "Father, I thank thee," and "rejoiced in spirit"; and as He was led into the deep, dense darkness, He cried, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death."

Toiling ones, if you have the weariness, you have the bracing and the prospect. You who are carried, cheer others by song as you pass. Those in the tunnel, be of good comfort. There is light at the other end, and meanwhile, "The night also is Thine," and He is with you.

THE TENDER SHEPHERD.

BY G. E. N.

N calling by request to see a sick man living near my brother's house, I found a pretty, neat cottage, the wife evidently accustomed to make as much as possible out of the little she possessed.

"Is your husband better to-day?" I inquired.

"No, ma'am; his cough has troubled him much, he is lying down, but I'll see if he is awake, for he'd be pleased to see you, I am sure."

I sat down and waited. In a few minutes a man, upwards of forty, slowly entered from the little bedroom, and as I looked at the hectio flush and heard his short cough I felt it was unmistakeable he was far gone in consumption. After a few preliminary words as to his health, sleeping, &c., I asked :

"Have you rest in Jesus? Has He your sins laid on Him, and have you thanked Him for it ?"

"No; I can't say I have."

"6 Would you not like to be ready to die?"

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'Well, yes, I would."

I opened Isa. liii. and slowly read down to verse 6, said a few words on it, marked it in his Bible, and left after a short prayer. The next morning, when sitting by him, I found that all his family had died one after another of consumption. He thought he was getting better, a sure sign that he was not. I read to him John x., specially pausing on verses 11 and 28.

"You were a shepherd ?" I said.

"Yes, all my life."

"You were never in danger like David, whose life was threatened by lion and bear, but he conquered both; nevertheless I am sure you have been very careful of your charge."

"Careful" repeated the wife, "has he not lost his life by it? why, he'd be out all weathers and never think of his meals. It's them sheep has killed him."

"Did you ever lose one?"

"Yes, I lost one, and I never got over it, over thirty years ago. I never could tell what became of it, I searched days and days for it, I walked many a weary mile for the sheep, but all to no good. I fretted day and night, but it did not bring it back."

At once I thought, "Of all that Thou gavest Me have I lost none save the son of perdition."

He was quite excited over the memory of his lost sheep. I knelt and asked that he might see he was the lost sheep whom Christ was seeking.

On the following day the wife said, "He is worse, and has been sleeping. Will you sit and wait?" Then coming closer, she said: “Oh, maʼam, he has asked twice for them two chapters to be read, and I heard him pray so earnest. I never saw him like that before; oh, I have longed to see him anxious about his soul, I know he is not for this world."

A little cough soon told that he was awake. This day I read Luke xv. 3-8, and I said, "Do you know anything of this experience as a shepherd?"

"That I do, right well. I've lost a sheep for a couple of days, but I've gone to every road and field about till I've got it again; it's hard for a herd at times when driving a number, if two roads meet, to watch