The Light to the Path

A father and a son were on a journey. It was late in the afternoon, but still clear day, when they came to a cottage by the road-side, and the father went in and borrowed a lighted lantern. The young man was exceedingly amused, and perhaps he was a little vexed. If any one should meet them carrying a lamp in the sunshine, it would look so absurd; and what in the world was the use of it? But the older traveller took the young man’s jibes good-humouredly, and only answered, “The night cometh.” And it did come. They passed no more cottages, but they got into a thick forest, where the daylight faded so rapidly that the lantern already shone a welcome companion. Not only was the sun gone down, but the last streak of twilight had vanished. It was dreadfully dark; but the good little lantern spread a

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cloth of gold before the steps of the travellers, and did not let one shadow or phantom come near them. At last the road divided. “Straight on!” cried the youth. “Not so fast,” said the elder; for though the path to the right was less trodden, perhaps it was the one they should take; when fortunately they espied a finger-post, and holding the lamp as high as they could, they read the direction, and found that they would have gone utterly wrong, had they not taken the narrow and neglected footway. Rejoicing at their escape, they pushed on merrily; and by and by with his frisky spirits the youngster went ahead, and was far in advance of the lantern, when the old man heard a plash and a shout, and running up, was just in time to help ashore his impetuous boy, who had so used into a stagnant pool, and who crawled up the bank pale and shivering, with the leeches and duckweed clinging to his garments. a You see the road was not through this pool, but round it. You should walk in the light;” and so they again set out together. As the stillness deepened, they sometimes heard a rustle in the bushy undergrowth, and distant howlings or a sharp snarl near-hand warned them that the beasts of the forest were abroad; and once or twice they could see a pair of fiery opals glaring at them, but as soon as they turned the full flame of the lantern in that direction the goblin retreated. We need not tell the whole adventures of the night; but at last they came to a place where a heavy moan arrested them, and searching in the copse, they found a man stretched on the ground and badly hurt. He had either received a blow on the head, or he had inhaled some stupifying ether, for at first he talked very incoherently. It turned out, that as he had been coming along, a gentleman in black had prevailed on him to cast his lantern into the ditch, and that soon after some footpad had knocked him down and dragged him off the road and robbed him of all his money. As soon as he was somewhat restored, they set him on his beast, and journeyed on together. The day was breaking, and the forest was thinning off on the margin of a magnificent domain. They looked forth on vine-clad hills and a shining river; and though the palace itself could be descried but dimly, — it was so far up in the dazzling sunrise, — they could easily make out many mansions. “I am home!” cried the old man; and the full morning was reflected from his face as he added, “Mine eyes shall see the king in his beauty; they shall behold the land that is very far off.” And as he embraced his comrades, he handed over the lantern to his son, and said, “Keep this as a light unto your feet, and a lamp unto your path.” The youth prized the keepsake. He found constant occasion for it. He brightened up the four windows, by which it sent its light backward and forward, and on either side; and with the point of a diamond he traced these mottoes on them: —

“Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way? By taking heed thereto according to thy word.”

“When thou goest, it shall lead thee; when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee: and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee. For the commandment is a lamp, and the law is light.”

“We have also a more sure word of prophecy, whereunto ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn, and the day-star arise in your hearts.”

“If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.”

A lamp lighted while it is yet day, — such a lamp as is let into the roof of a railway carriage, and the little child wonders why they should put it there at noon, but for which no one is more grateful when a few minutes afterwards they plunge into the tunnel; such a lantern as the prudent traveller provides before he is benighted, — such a lamp is no bad emblem of our own case in relation to the Bible. God has provided us with a sufficient guide to a blissful immortality. H is W ord is a light to our feet, and a lamp to our path. In Britain, throughout Protestant Europe, in the whole of North America, there is hardly any one who may not, if he chooses, find and keep that path of faith and holiness which leads to heaven. But few set out on the great pilgrimage whilst the daylight lasts. It is not till all around is growing dark, that they remember that this is not their rest, and that they have a city still to seek. It is not till shadows from the tomb, or conscious guilt, or clouds of grief enwrap them, that they find they must sport no longer. And as they grasp their staff, and gird their loins, they bless that wonderful goodness which has already furnished them with a light so clear and unquenchable. In their merry moments they paid no attention to it. They hardly knew that it was burning. Now they are astonished at its brightness. The intenser that the shadow grows, the more dazzling does it shine: and now that neither sun nor stars appear, — now that the glare of folly, or the glee of health has faded, — they find to their surprise, that their route is becoming plainer, and their spirit waxing stronger; for, as if instinctively aspiring back to the “perfect day” from which it came, the lamp burns brighter and yet brighter as they go.

“Young man, attend to the voice of one who has possessed a certain degree of fame in the

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world, and who will shortly appear before his Maker. Read the Bible every day of your life.” So said Dr Johnson to a young gentleman, who visited him on his death-bed; and so has many a pastor said to his young people, — so has many a dying parent said to his children. And if it were from a minister, or some venerable Christian friend that you heard such counsel, you received it respectfully; if it were from a dying father or mother, with tears you promised to comply. Have you forgotten? Have you wearied in well-doing? Have late hours or other pursuits supplanted the Word of God? No: you say that you read it still. But you read it as a task. You would be glad of a dispensation. You would be thankful for a release which would not hurt your conscience, or impeach your filial piety. You carry about the lantern, because you would deem it a profanity or a breach of promise to cast it away. But hitherto you have found no real occasion for it; and it would not be honest to say that you have used it as a light to your feet, for you have never sought nor followed its guidance.

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