The mariner searches his chart for hidden rocks, stands off from perilous shoals, and steers wide of reefs on which hang shattered morsels of wrecked ships, and runs in upon dangerous shores with the ship manned, the wheel in hand, and the lead constantly sounding. But the mariner upon life's sea, carries no chart of other men's voyages, drives before every wind that will speed him, draws upon horrid shores with slumbering crew, or heads in upon roaring reefs as though he would not perish where thousands have perished before him.
Hell is populated with the victims of "harmless amusements." Will man never learn that the way to hell is through the valley of DECEIT? The power of Satan to hold his victims is nothing to that mastery of art by which he first gains them. When he approaches to charm us, it is not as a grim fiend, gleaming from a lurid cloud, but as an angel of light radiant with innocence. His words fall like dew upon the flower; as musical as the crystal-drop warbling from a fountain. Beguiled by his art, he leads you to the enchanted ground. Oh! how it glows with every refulgent hue of heaven! Afar off he marks the dismal gulf of vice and crime; its smoke of torment slowly rising, and rising forever! and he himself cunningly warns you of its dread disaster, for the very purpose of blinding and drawing you thither. He leads you to captivity through all the bowers of lulling magic. He plants your foot on odorous flowers; he fans your cheek with balmy breath; he overhangs your head with rosy clouds; he fills your ear with distant, drowsy music, charming every sense to rest. Oh ye! who have thought the way to hell was bleak and frozen as Norway, parched and barren as Sahara, strewed like Golgotha with bones and skulls reeking with stench like the vale of Gehenna,—witness your mistake! The way to hell is gorgeous! It is a highway, cast up; no lion is there, no ominous bird to hoot a warning, no echoings of the wailing-pit, no lurid gleams of distant fires, or moaning sounds of hidden woe! Paradise is imitated to build you a way to death; the flowers of heaven are stolen and poisoned; the sweet plant of knowledge is here; the pure white flower of religion; seeming virtue and the charming tints of innocence are scattered all along like native herbage. The enchanted victim travels on. Standing afar behind, and from a silver-trumpet, a heavenly messenger sends down the wind a solemn warning: There is a way which seemeth right to man, but the end thereof is death. And again, with louder blast: The wise man foreseeth the evil; fools pass on and are punished. Startled for a moment, the victim pauses; gazes round upon the flowery scene, and whispers, Is it not harmless?—"Harmless," responds a serpent from the grass!—"Harmless," echo the sighing winds!—"Harmless," re-echo a hundred airy tongues! If now a gale from heaven might only sweep the clouds away through which the victim gazes; oh! if God would break that potent power which chains the blasts of hell, and let the sulphur-stench roll up the vale, how would the vision change!—the road become a track of dead men's bones!—the heavens a lowering storm!—the balmy breezes, distant wailings—and all those balsam-shrubs that lied to his senses, sweat drops of blood upon their poison-boughs!
Ye who are meddling with the edges of vice, ye are on this road!—and utterly duped by its enchantments! Your eye has already lost its honest glance, your taste has lost its purity, your heart throbs with poison! The leprosy is all over you, its blotches and eruptions cover you. Your feet stand on slippery places, whence in due time they shall slide, if you refuse the warning which I raise. They shall slide from heaven, never to be visited by a gambler; slide down to that fiery abyss below you, out of which none ever come. Then, when the last card is cast, and the game over, and you lost; then, when the echo of your fall shall ring through hell,—in malignant triumph, shall the Arch-Gambler, who cunningly played for your soul, have his prey! Too late you shall look back upon life as a MIGHTY GAME, in which you were the stake, and Satan the winner!
ALTEMUS'
ETERNAL LIFE SERIES.
Selections from the writings of well-known religious authors' works, beautifully printed and daintily bound in leatherette with original designs in silver and ink.
PRICE, 25 CENTS PER VOLUME.
ETERNAL LIFE, by Professor Henry Drummond.
LORD, TEACH US TO PRAY, by Rev. Andrew Murray.
GOD'S WORD AND GOD'S WORK, by Martin Luther.
FAITH, by Thomas Arnold.
THE CREATION STORY, by Honorable William E. Gladstone.
THE MESSAGE OF COMFORT, by Rt. Rev. Ashton Oxenden.
THE MESSAGE OF PEACE, by Rev. R. W. Church.
THE LORD'S PRAYER AND THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, by Dean Stanley.
THE MEMOIRS OF JESUS, by Rev. Robert F. Horton.
HYMNS OF PRAISE AND GLADNESS, by Elisabeth R. Scovil.
DIFFICULTIES, by Hannah Whitall Smith.
GAMBLERS AND GAMBLING, by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher.
HAVE FAITH IN GOD, by Rev. Andrew Murray.
TWELVE CAUSES OF DISHONESTY, by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher.
THE CHRIST IN WHOM CHRISTIANS BELIEVE, by Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks.
IN MY NAME, by Rev. Andrew Murray.
SIX WARNINGS, by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher.
THE DUTY OF THE CHRISTIAN BUSINESSMAN, by Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks.
POPULAR AMUSEMENTS, by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher.
TRUE LIBERTY, by Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks.
INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher.
THE BEAUTY OF A LIFE OF SERVICE, by Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks.
THE SECOND COMING OF OUR LORD, by Rev. A. T. Pierson, D.D.
THOUGHT AND ACTION, by Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks.
THE HEAVENLY VISION, by Rev. F. B. Meyer.
MORNING STRENGTH, by Elisabeth R. Scovil.
FOR THE QUIET HOUR, by Edith V. Bradt.
EVENING COMFORT, by Elizabeth R. Scovil.
WORDS OF HELP FOR CHRISTIAN GIRLS, by Rev. F. B. Meyer
HOW TO STUDY THE BIBLE, by Rev. Dwight L. Moody.
EXPECTATION CORNER, by E. S. Elliot.
JESSICA'S FIRST PRAYER, by Hesba Stretton.