The Lost Child.

NOT long ago, quite an excitement was raised 

in the neighborhood of Eugene, Knox Co., IIL.,

 concerning a lost child. The mother had gone 

visiting, and taken her child with her. About 4 

o'clock in the afternoon, the little boy went out

 to play. He was out but a few moments, when

 the mother went to call him. She called, but 

received no answer.

She called louder, again and again, but received

 no reply. She then, with the family, went in 

search of him, but found no trace of the little 


Soon the neighbors were called, and that night

 hundreds of men, with lanterns, went up and 

down through the woods in search of the lost 

child; but their efforts were of no avail. The

 mother's grief was inexpressible.

She wept bitterly. Must my dear child, thought 

she, remain in the woods alone this cold, dark 

night? Will it not fall into the creek and be 

drowned? or, if it escapes this, will it not be

 chilled to death? For it is almost winter; the

 leaves have fallen, the ground is freezing, and

 cold, chilling winds are coursing their way

 across our broad prairies and through our 

small forests.

This long, dreary night rolled sluggishly by. At

 last morning dawned, but no trace of the child

 was seen. More men were called, and the 

woods, and also the wells and cornfields, were

 diligently searched; but all seemed

to be in vain. At last, about noon, they 

discovered his tracks. The little fellow had

gone out to the road, then crossing it, had 

climbed over the fence and gone off down a hill

 through the woods. At the foot of the hill was a

 small stream. They could see that he had 

crossed the stream and gone on further into the

 woods. Here they lost the track, and the 

company started off in different directions in 


At last, about one o'clock, they again discovered

 his tracks, beyond the woods in a corn field. 

They followed the tracks but a few rods into the

 field, when they discovered the little wanderer.

 He lay with his face toward

the ground. Running hastily to the body they 

raised it up; but alas! it was not the bright, 

laughing little boy of the day before. What a 

change had come over him His face looked dark

 and was disfigured by mud. His form was cold 

and stiff. The mother embraced it; but it did not 

seem like her own lovely child. The chilling 

winds of this cold autumn night had proved fatal

 to him. He met this cruel death because he had

 wandered away from his mother.

As I was pondering over this sad event, I asked

 myself the question, is there not some lesson to

 be learned from this? Oh! thought I, is it not 

thus that many children wander away from 

Jesus. Many little children are brought to him

 and he blesses them; for he loves them as 

dearly as that mother loved her child.

But when they go out to play, sometimes

they forget Jesus. Then, when he calls them

they don't hear him. Pretty soon they climb

over the fence and go off down the hill into

the woods. The fence, may represent the

line that separates little Christians from little

sinners. The woods, the pleasures of this

world. Its being down hill, means that when

little Christians cross over the line that 

separates  them from bad children, and try to

 enjoy the world with them, they then commence

going down hill, that is, backsliding. Pretty

soon they cross the creek, and then their tracks

cannot be seen any more; This is when they

get so far away from Jesus that we cannot tell

them from the world.

When they first commence backsliding, we

can tell them from the world, but soon they

get so far into the world we cannot tell them

from wicked people. This is when they have

crossed the creek. The last trace of them is

now lost. The woods, which represent the

pleasures of this world, are soon passed

through. They then enter the open field

where they must lie down upon the cold barren

ground, with no leaves for a bed, no trees to

shelter them from the storm, and there perish.

This is the end of all those who wander

away from Christ. The pleasures of this

world are soon passed through. Then, oh

how dark to the wanderer! The cold night

of death comes upon him, and he lies in darkness

and despair.

And now my little readers, if any of you

are wandering away from Jesus, listen and

hear his gentle voice before it is too late. He

now says, "Suffer little children to come unto

me." But his voice will not always be heard.

Soon he will come to earth again. Then the 

wicked will be punished. But those who have 

kept his commandments, will receive a crown 

of life, and live forever in the kingdom of God.

 How many of the readers  will meet me there?

Yours, in hope of eternal life,