THE evening of the sixth of April was one of beautiful starlight. The waters of Portland harbor, Maine, were calm and quiet, while a mild breeze moved across the islands of Casco Bay. On that evening a stately steamship sailed out of her dock in Portland to cross the ocean. She was bound for Liverpool, England. The captain and the pilot were on the bridge of the steamer to give directions about steering the vessel. The lights of the dwellings on the lovely islands and the main-land shone like little stars low down, adding much to the beauty of the scene; and all things seemed to indicate a prosperous voyage to the passengers and crew of the steamer Brooklyn.

The ship had sailed, however, but little more than a mile, when all at once she slid upon a ledge of rocks partly hidden beneath the water, stuck fast, swung around, and came to the end of her voyage. The tide comes and goes, hiding and then uncovering the rocks; but the Brooklyn still lies a wreck on the ledge, near Fort Gorges, in Portland harbor.

She was a handsome ship, but her beauty could not save her when steered upon the rocks. She was a strong ship, but no ship is strong enough to endure running with force upon the rocks. She

was well manned, but all the men in the country could not save her when she went upon the rocks.

How many young people are like this ship!

They start out to sail the ocean of life with every prospect of success, but for some reason they run upon rocks and become wrecks. The billiard saloon, or clubroom, or card table, or bad companions, like hidden ledges, become their ruin. They may be handsome, or strong, or well educated; but none of these things avail when once they strike the rocks of intemperance, infidelity, or crime.

It is said that the pilot of this steamer was deceived by the lights. Look out for the lights, young man—young woman. The lights of Portland harbor are very clear, and the pilot need not have been deceived by shore lights. You, also, need not be deceived by the lights along your route.

The light of truth in God's word is very clear.

Mind it well, steer by it, and you will not be lost on the rocks, but sail safely into the port of heaven at last.




Young  Pilgrim



BE finest cloth that man can sell

Wears out when years are past;

The pitcher oft goes to the well,

But it is broke at last;

And both alike this moral tell,

Virtue alone stands fast.