LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 PRINCETON. N. J. 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 Mrs. Huston Dixon 
 
 BV 4832 .M38 1908 1 
 
 Matheson, George, 1842-1906 
 Thoughts for life s journey 
 
THOUGHTS FOR LIFE'S JOURNEY 
 
BY GEORGE M ATHESO N, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 REPRESENTATIVE MEN OF THE BIBLE 
 SERIES 
 
 In four volumes, crown octavo, cloth. 
 Each volume complete in itself. 
 
 Vol. I. Comprising Adam, Enoch, Abraham, 
 Isaac, Moses, Samuel, Da vid, Elijah, etc. $1. 75. 
 
 "As a poetical expositor of Biblical themes, Dr. Math- 
 eson is unsurpassed. His ' Enoch the Immortal,' 'Abraham 
 the Cosmopolitan,* ' Isaac the Domesticated,' and others 
 in his gallery of statues serve as lay figures for an in- 
 vestiture of thought, philosophic, religious, original, of 
 which all must acknowledge the charm."— 37ie Outlook. 
 
 Vol. II. Comprising Isbmael, Aaron, Jonathan, 
 Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, etc. $1.75. 
 
 " We doubt whether there is now in print a more 
 beautiful and suggestive series of biographical studies 
 of the familiar heroes of Old Testament times."— T7ie 
 Northwestern Christian Advocate. 
 
 Vol. III. Representative Men of the New Testa- 
 ^v ment. Net, $1.50. 
 Vol. IV. Representative Women of the Bible. 
 
 With this volume is concluded the widely read series, 
 and this book does for the women of the Bible what 
 "Representative Men of the Bible " did for the opposite 
 type of human activity. Net, $1.50. 
 
 STUDIES OF THE PORTRAIT OF CHRIST. 
 Complete In two crown octavo volumes. $3.50. 
 
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 Separately. Per volume, $1.75. 
 
 " Certainly no more original study of the life of Christ 
 has appeared since 'Ecce Homo.' "—The Bookman. 
 
 RESTS BY THE RIVER. 
 A new and charming devotional book by the famous 
 poet preacher of Edinburgh; his last work. Uniform 
 with "Leaves for Quiet Hours." 
 '' ^ Cloth, gilt top, featherweight paper, net $1.25. 
 
 LEAVES FOR QUIET HOURS. 
 12 mo, featherweight paper, gilt top, cloth. $1.25. 
 
 Dr. Matheson concludes his preface: "A devotional 
 book Is supposed to be a very simple thing, it ought to 
 be the most difficult composition in the world, for it 
 should aim at the marriage of qualities which are com- 
 monly supposed to be antagonistic — the insight of the 
 thinker and the fervor of the worshipper. My own con- 
 viction has increasingly been that the hoursof our deepest 
 devotion are precisely in those moments when we catch 
 fresh glimpses of hidden things." 
 
 . MOMENTS ON THE MOUNT. A Series of 
 Devotional Meditations. Cloth, $1.25, 
 VOICES OF THE SPIRIT. Cloth, $1.25. 
 
 A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON, New York 
 
Hiffc 
 
 THOUGHTS F(l)k''*'" 
 LIFE'S J0URNE¥^^ 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE MATHESON 
 
 DD,. LL.D., F.R.S.E, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 'LEAVES FOR QUIET HOURS' 
 "RESTS BY THE RIVER", etc, 
 
 f 
 
 NEW YORK 
 A. C, ARMSTRONG & SON 
 
 3 and 5 WEST EIGHTEENTH STREET, 
 1908 
 
PREFATORY NOTE 
 
 In accordance with a suggestion made by the 
 pubHshers to the author some few months before 
 his death, these devotional sermonettes, which 
 have appeared from time to time in The Christian 
 World, are now issued in collective form. Eighty- 
 six sermonettes are here included, dealing with 
 varied subjects that may appeal to varied minds. 
 In the course of their previous issue the author 
 received much eloquent testimony regarding the 
 help and comfort derived from their perusal, 
 which fact would tend to the belief that this 
 further offering in a more permanent form is not 
 without some measure of justification. 
 
THOUGHTS FOR LIFE'S 
 JOURNEY 
 
 THE HOUR OF GOD'S CALL 
 
 **The Master is come, and calleth for thee." — John xi. 28. 
 
 It was a strange time for Martha to get a call 
 — ^just when her own special gift had come to a 
 stand. There was no further room for her 
 practicalness ; she had been forced to fold her 
 hands. The power to work had ended ; the 
 necessity to wait had come. It was a tim_e when 
 Martha might well have said to herself: " I have 
 no longer any calling ; my occupation is gone now. 
 There are no more tables to serve, no more friends 
 to entertain, no more hospitalities to dispense, no 
 more sick brothers to nurse, not even any more 
 funeral arrangements to make ; my work is done." 
 Yet it was at that hour the call came. It was at 
 the close of her own day that God's day began for 
 
 7 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 her. It was in the stillness of all her special 
 powers that the knocker struck the door. 
 
 And I think, my brother, it is ever so that thy 
 Father deals with thee. I do not think He knocks 
 at the door of thy special gift ; rather, it seems to 
 me, does He seek thy neglected door. He would 
 bring thee out precisely by that gate which was 
 not thine entrance gate. Why does He so often 
 block that particular way on which thou art going ? 
 " To teach thee distrust of thyself,'" cry a hundred 
 voices. Nay, to teach thee to trust thyself in 
 more directions. Why should all thy work be 
 special ! Is there to be no road between thee and 
 thy brother — no sympathy with that which is 
 another's endowment? Why has God stripped 
 thee of thy power of active service ? To teach 
 thee thine impotence ? No, to show thee thy 
 power on the other side of the hill. Is there no 
 service but action ! Is there no blessing for Mary ! 
 Is there no work for those who can only stand and 
 wait, only lie and wait ! What of that wondrous 
 movement which makes no noise — the surrender 
 of the will ! What of those who suffer and pine 
 not, endure and complain not, bear and doubt not ! 
 How came they to that blissful call? Through the 
 shadows of the evening. They once were like 
 thee — beheving in nothing but the hand. God hid 
 
 8 
 
The Hour of God's Call 
 
 the garish day, and the hand grew powerless. 
 And then the Master called through another 
 avenue — a slighted avenue ; and the inward will 
 arose and said, "I have found a neglected 
 door." 
 
THE OPEN EFFECT OF SECRET 
 ASPIRATION 
 
 " Pray to thy Father which is in secret ; and thy Father 
 which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly." — Matt. vi. 6. 
 
 The doctrine of Jesus differs here from the view 
 of the moderns. The common voice of oz^r day is, 
 " Pray in secret, and thy Father will reward thee 
 secretly." I am told that the only use of prayer is 
 to calm the inind — to breath within me a spirit of 
 peace. And truly, even if that were all, it would 
 be a most valuable boon. But it would not be an 
 ** open reward." It would be a thing as latent as 
 my prayer. It would be a little secret of the heart 
 between me and my Father. Its coming would 
 be unknown to the world ; its presence would be 
 unseen by the world ; its music would be unheard 
 by the world. That may be very sublime, but it 
 is not what Christ promised. What He says is 
 that the prayer is to be secret, but the reward 
 open. The prayer is to be unwitnessed ; the 
 answer is to be public. The prayer is to be veiled ; 
 the answer is to be read of all men. The prayer 
 
 lO 
 
The Open Effect of Secret Aspiration 
 
 is to be within closed doors ; the answer is to be 
 in the wide wide world. 
 
 My brother, do not say that the purpose of your 
 prayer is to calm your mind ! That is not an end ; 
 it is a beginning. If you have a calm mind you 
 will come out into the open. Your Father's aim 
 is not that you should enter into rest ; it is that 
 you should enter into movement. He offers you 
 His peace, not to make you lie down in green 
 pastures, but to make you walk in the paths of 
 righteousness. It is not the secrecy of our prayer 
 that He values ; it is the publicity which the secret 
 hour kindles. Tell me ! have not our most public 
 moments come from our most secret hours ? When 
 you were a child you built castles in the air. They 
 were rather castles in the heart ; they were all 
 inside — within the closed doors of the soul. These 
 castle-buildings were your first prayers. They 
 were the golden wishes of your spirit, and they 
 were only visible to you and your Father. There 
 was no axe or hammer heard when these houses 
 were building ; they were prayers to your Father 
 " in secret." Yet these prayers have had an open 
 reward. ; You are richer to-day by reason of the 
 castles you built in your heart. I do not say your 
 life has ever reached the measure of them ; I know 
 it has not. But I do say it has reached more than 
 i II 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 it would have reached without them. Your love's 
 young dream has kept you from the miry clay. 
 Your vision of the hill has nerved you for the plain. 
 In the secret places of your heart you have heard 
 distant music — the world v/ould say imaginary 
 music. But it is to this secret music that the 
 march of your outward life has been timed. It is 
 this far-off melody that has fired you for the actual 
 battle. It is this song in the night that has made 
 you conqueror in the day. Build, my brother, 
 your castles of prayer — build 6n ! They will meet 
 you again in stone and lime. You vill find them 
 in the daylight world — the world of life and action. 
 Your poetry will help your prose ; your flight will 
 aid your walking. Stand in the secret place of 
 golden wishes ; but know assuredly that there is 
 nothing secret which shall not be revealed I 
 
 12 
 
THE CLEANSING OF THE TEMPLE 
 
 " When He had made a scourge of small cords, He drove them 
 all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen ; and poured 
 out the changers' money, and overthrew the tables ; and said, 
 Make not my Father's house an house of merchandise." — 
 John ii. 15, 16. 
 
 We all begin by making the house of God a 
 house of merchandise. When people begin to 
 think seriously, religion first presents itself as a 
 present penance for the sake of future gain. A 
 man says : " I am told pious people get on in the 
 world ; God blesses them in their basket and in 
 their store. True, church is very dull ; but church 
 means a blessing in life. If I serve God, God 
 will smile on me. If I seek Him on Sunday, He 
 will not forget me in the struggle for bread on 
 Monday." That is what Christ calls buying and 
 selling in the temple of God. You offer the 
 Almighty a sight of your grave face on the chance 
 that He will pay you back by a gift of sumptuous 
 living. For a time the Lord suffers this. He lets 
 you for a space bring your merchandise into the 
 temple, for it is better to come to the temple with 
 
 13 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 your merchandise than not to come at all. But 
 by-and-by He feels that the time for expulsion 
 has arrived. He takes a scourge of small cords 
 and drives out the sheep and oxen. What is that 
 scourge ? It is a form of experience. What is it 
 that drives out the mercantile view of religion ? 
 It is just the discovery that the good are not 
 physically rewarded. Nothing drives out the 
 merchandise from the temple like the experience 
 of Job. We see him leading a good life ; yet we 
 see the sheep and oxen taken from him just as 
 they are taken from bad people. It is meant to 
 show him, it is meant to show us, that religion is 
 not a mercantile transaction, that the rewards of 
 God are not sheep and oxen. To every growing 
 spirit the voice of Christ is this : '' Make not My 
 Father's house a house of merchandise ! " 
 
 Lord, I understand Thy dealings in the great 
 Temple. Often have I wondered why the white 
 robes of fortune were not reserved for the whitest 
 souls. I do not wonder now. I understand why 
 it is written of Thy coming glory, ** Of that day 
 and that hour knoweth no man." If we did know, 
 we should crowd Thy temple as we crowd the 
 market-place — for gain. We should go up to Thy 
 house in multitudes, we should jostle one another 
 to get first in ; there would be a struggle for the 
 
The Cleansing of the Temple 
 
 survival of the fittest. But the fittest w^ould be 
 the most selfish ; it would be a struggle for the 
 glory of the flesh ; v^e should seek, not the 
 prodigal's penitence, but the prodigal's ring. 
 Therefore it is that in the far country Thou 
 revealest not the ring. Thou hidest the music 
 and the dancing that await us in Thy house. 
 Thou comest to meet us without the costly robe, 
 with only the song of welcome. Often with a 
 scourge of small cords Thou drivest the sheep and 
 oxen from our temple. Often in the very front of 
 our altar Thou overturnest the table of our gains. 
 Men say, " If He loved them, would He overturn 
 their table ? " It is because of Thy love, O Lord ! 
 Thou preparest for me a table in the wilderness, 
 lest I should seek Thee, not for love, but for gold. 
 Thou makest me sit down in the presence of mine 
 enemies, lest I should come to Thee for the 
 winning of earthly friends. Thou leadest me 
 through the valley of the shadow of death, lest I 
 should be comforted by any rod and staff but 
 Thine. Cleanse from merchandise the temple of 
 my soul ! 
 
 15 
 
THE TOUCH OF JESUS 
 
 "Jesus put forth His hand, and touched the leper, saying, 
 I will; be thou clean." — Matt. viii. 3. 
 
 Do you think that in the view of St. Matthew 
 the touch had anything to do with the miracle ? 
 It seems to me that we are under a delusion on 
 this point. I have heard it said that Christ never 
 worked without human means. It is true that He 
 always brought Himself into contact with the 
 afflicted party. But I do not think the motive of 
 the contact was the use of human means. I 
 believe the contact was in every case something 
 over and above the miracle. It was quite possible 
 to have healed this leper by a word alone. It 
 would be quite possible for God Almighty to say 
 to all the moral lepers of the world, ** Be thou 
 clean ! " and the cure would be Divinely perfect. 
 Why, then, does He not ? Just because the cure 
 would be Divinely perfect. God wants it to be 
 humanly perfect, and this can only be effected by 
 a touch. Elijah in the desert may be fed by 
 ravens or he may be fed by man's philanthropy, 
 
 16 
 
The Touch of Jesus 
 
 The physical effect will be the same, but not the 
 moral effect. Elijah fed by the ravens is not a 
 whit nearer to his kind than Elijah faint and 
 hungry ; but Elijah fed by human hands becomes 
 himself more human. The greatest calamity of a 
 leper was not his leprosy ; it was his divorce from 
 his fellow-man. It was not his physical disease 
 that divorced him ; it was the belief in his moral 
 contagion. His greatest cry was for some one to 
 touch him — to bridge the river of separation. It 
 was easy to get the touch after he was healed. 
 But the hard thing was to get contact before 
 healing — to receive the touch before receiving the 
 mandate, *' Be thou clean ! " His fellow-men 
 would not grant him that boon. Doubtless they 
 prayed for his recovery, but they would not touch 
 him Mw-recovered. God could have healed him in 
 answer to their prayers, but He wanted to heal 
 him in answer to their contact. 
 
 Jesus, Thou alone hast touched the leper un- 
 healed. I have read of a woman who touched the 
 hem of Thy garment ; we call it the touch of faith. 
 But Thou hast a touch for the hem of our gar- 
 ment, and this is also a touch of faith. It is a 
 touching of that which is still impure, and it is 
 prompted by a faith in my possibilities. It is a 
 hand put out to give me a chance — a hand 
 
 17 B 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 preceding the voice — preceding the cure. Thy 
 touch Hngers not for the cleansing of my leprosy. 
 It seeks me in the dark and in the cold. It is a 
 touch of faith, not of sight. Thou comest to me 
 when I am still in the shadow. It is on a soiled 
 finger Thou puttest the adoption ring ; it is on a 
 broken body Thou layest the best robe. Thou 
 comest to me before my dawn, when, as yet, there 
 is nothing to see. Thy coming is a walk by faith. 
 Thou takest me on trust ere I have done anything. 
 Just as I am, without one plea, Thou touchest 
 me — Thou layest on me Thine ordaining hand. 
 Just as I am, unhealed, uncleansed, Thou touchest 
 the hem of my soiled garment, and Thy voice 
 says to my soul, '* Take another chance ; come 
 and try once morel" O Jesus, great is Thy 
 faith I 
 
 18 
 
THE THINGS INDESTRUCTIBLE 
 
 •• Abideth faith, hope, love, these three." — i Cor. xiii. 13. 
 
 And so there are three things which are never 
 to die, which I am to carry with me beyond the 
 grave ! Three pearls are to be saved from the 
 wreck of time and landed on the shore ! Two of 
 the preservations surprise me. I could never 
 wonder at the immortality of love, for heaven 
 without love would be the world without the sun. 
 But faith and hope — where is the place for these in 
 heaven! I thought faith would drop her wings 
 when she lighted on the soil of home ; I thought 
 hope would draw in her sails when she touched 
 fruition's shore. The men of old time told me 
 that all mystery would vanish when the curtain of 
 death infolded me. They told me that faith would 
 be lost in sight, that hope would fade in fulfilment. 
 Paul says they shall abide. How shall they abide 
 with perfect revelation ? How shall faith breathe 
 in the cloudless sky ; how shall hope flutter in the 
 windless air ? If these abide, shadow must abide » 
 and why is shadow there ? Why prolong the 
 
 19 B 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 winter of my faith and the spring-time of my hope 
 when the summer of my love has come ? 
 
 In the interest of that love, O my soul. Hast 
 thou considered the place of the shadows ! Are 
 they not the very pinions of thy love ! Is not thy 
 pity ever born of danger ! It would die if it saw 
 clearly. Perfect morning would scatter the fairest 
 of the gems. It would destroy the need of thy 
 charity. It would lame the feet of thy sympathy. 
 It would clip the wings of thy compassion. It 
 would close the gates of thy solicitude for others. 
 It would end the days of thine unselfish prayers. 
 Keep thy shadows, O my soul ! Keep a httle 
 rim of darkness round thy sun ! Keep a spot 
 unrevealed in the dealings of thy God ! Keep 
 in the new world a place for the cross of Jesus — 
 a place where love may see the cloud and feel a 
 brother's pain ! Thy perfect sight would be dearly 
 purchased by the loss of thy Lord's passion. The 
 cloud that covers the transfigured glory is itself a 
 glory. If thou wouldst give rein to thy love, 
 leave in the Paradise of God a margin for faith 
 and hope. 
 
 20 
 
THE PURPOSE OF GOD'S LEADING 
 
 " He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness — for His 
 name's sake." — Ps. xxiii. 3. 
 
 We hear a great deal about the leading of God ; 
 but I think there is no subject on which we have 
 such confused ideas. We say that God's is an 
 individual Providence. On the faith of that, we 
 ask for some trinket, ring, or gewgaw. We do 
 not get it. Then we say, " It is all a delusion ; 
 God cares nothing for individuals ! " The Psalmist 
 has avoided this confusion. On the one hand, he 
 has no doubt whatever of an individual Providence. 
 Every note of the Psalm is personal : ** The Lord 
 is my shepherd," "He leadeth me:'' But on the 
 other hand, he recognises that the leading itself is 
 not for an individual end: "He leadeth me in the 
 path of righteousness — He leadeth me for His 
 name's sake." This is very strange language. We 
 should have expected him to say, " God is leading 
 me in green pastures on account of the good life / 
 have led." On the contrary, he says " God is 
 leading me in green pastures to further the good 
 
 2X 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 of other people — to minister to those who have not 
 led a good life." And I think the experience of 
 the Psalmist will be found true to all experience. 
 I do not believe that any man is led into prosperity 
 or into adversity for the sake of that prosperity or 
 adversity ; it is always for the sake of God's name 
 or holiness. You pray for worldly wealth and it 
 comes to you. Has God led you into that wealth ? 
 Yes, but not to reward your prayer. Rather 
 would I say that the prayer and the riches are 
 both parts of His guidance into a path of humani- 
 tarian righteousness where you can minister to the 
 sorrows of man. Why was Abraham promised 
 the land of Canaan ? As a reward for leaving Ur 
 of the Chaldees ? No, but with the view of making 
 blessed all the families of the earth. God did not 
 give him the new country as a recompense for 
 leaving the old ; He inspired him to leave the old 
 because He meant to give him the new. 
 
 Lord, lead me to green pastures for Thy name's 
 sake! Thy name is Love; lead me to green 
 pastures for the sake of love 1 I do not seek the 
 verdant spot that I may rest there, but that 
 through my rest another may be helped in toil. I 
 ask the gifts of fortune, not that I may keep them, 
 but that I may share them. If my pastures be 
 green let me feed Thy flock ; if my waters be quiet 
 
 22 
 
The Purpose of God's Leading 
 
 let me launch ships for Thee! Often in the days 
 of youth I have prayed that Thou wouldst lead me 
 to the New Jerusalem whose streets are paved 
 with gold. I would not unqualifiedly pray for 
 that now. I should like to make a condition — 
 that I should not be forced always to remain there. 
 I should like to have the egress, as well as the 
 ingress, of the city of gold. I should like freedom 
 to transfer the gold. I should like to beautify old 
 Jerusalems. I would pave the streets of bad 
 Nineveh, of wicked Babylon. I would show Thy 
 gems to the Gentiles, Thy pearls to the outcast 
 poor. I should be glad to bring a breath of the 
 glassy sea into the lanes and alleys of the working 
 day. Even to heaven would I be led "for Thy 
 name's sake.'* 
 
 23 
 
THE PECULIARITY OF CHRISTIAN 
 LOVE 
 
 *'Love envieth not." — i Cor. xiii. 4. 
 
 Christian love is the only kind of love in which 
 there is no rivalry, no jealousy. There is jealousy 
 among the lovers of art ; there is jealousy among 
 the lovers of song ; there is jealousy among the 
 lovers of beauty. The glory of natural love is its 
 monopoly, its power to say, " It is mine." But 
 the glory of Christian love is its refusal of 
 monopoly. The spiritual artist — the man who 
 paints Christ in his soul — wants no solitary niche 
 in the temple of fame. He would not like to hear 
 any one say, " He is the first of his profession ; 
 there is not one that can hold the candle to him." 
 He would be very sad to be distinguished in his 
 profession of Christ, marked out as a solitary 
 figure. The gladdest moment to him will always 
 be the moment when the cry is heard, *' Thy 
 brother is coming up the ladder also ; thy brother 
 will share the inheritance with thee." 
 
 O Thou who art the dear love of my heart, I 
 24 
 
The Peculiarity of Christian Love 
 
 would not have Thee love me alone. I would not 
 desire to monopolise Thy heart. I would not 
 claim Thee as my solitary possession. I would 
 have Thee to love me always, to love me every- 
 where, to love me perfectly — but not to love me 
 only. It is not merely that I am not jealous of 
 my brother; I am very jealous for Thee. If I 
 alone possessed Thee it would narrow Thee, limit 
 Thee, circumscribe Thee. My Christ, I would 
 not have Thee narrowed — not for all the pride of 
 being the centre of Thy universe. I would not 
 have Thee lowered to gratify my pride. If I am 
 better than other men, I dare not, with the 
 publican, thank Thee for that. Rather would I 
 pray against my own distinctiveness. I would 
 beat upon my breast and say : " Break the 
 solitude, O Lord ! Deprive me of this monopoly 
 of goodness ! Destroy my pre-eminence in Thy 
 sight ! Remove my isolated splendour on the 
 mountain-top with Thee ! Bring up the crowd at 
 the foot of the hill to share my glory — to love and 
 be loved like me ! Let us sing one song ; let us 
 wear one wreath ; let us tell one tale ; let us feel 
 one joy; let us fill one house; let us tread one 
 court ; let us speak one tongue ; let us offer one 
 heart of praise ! Feed Thy sheep, lest I love 
 Thee more than they ! " 
 
 25 
 
THE SABBATH OF THE HEART 
 
 " And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it : because 
 that in it He had rested from all His work." — Gen. ii. 3. 
 
 Creation goes from the wing to the nest. It 
 begins with the Spirit moving, and it ends with 
 the Spirit resting. But observe, it is the rest of a 
 spirit. What is the rest of a spirit ? It is the 
 opposite of a body's rest. The body rests when 
 it has reached exhaustion ; the spirit, when it has 
 reached satisfaction. The body reposes when it 
 has closed its eyes on everything ; the spirit 
 reposes when it has opened its eyes on its own 
 image. God could not rest until He beheld His 
 likeness in the pool. Without that likeness the 
 pool was stagnant, and stagnancy is not the 
 spirit's rest. My heart can never find repose 
 until it has found something like itself, something 
 made in its own image. Then alone it meets 
 with that delicious thing, reciprocity. Reciprocity 
 is the Sabbath of the heart. It is a Sabbath 
 bell ringing across the snow. It tells me there 
 is somewhere in the void a house of kindred 
 
 26 
 
The Sabbath of the Heart 
 
 sympathy where I can find communion, fellowship, 
 response. When I want to rest in my body, I 
 wish no one to speak to me. But when I want to 
 rest in my spirit, I wish to be spoken to. It is a 
 voice I crave for — the answer of a heart to my 
 heart, the throb of a soul to my soul, the reply of 
 a life to my life. My spirit will rest when it finds 
 its other self. 
 
 O Thou Divine Man, I shall find it in Thee. 
 Thou art that for which I have been waiting, 
 without which I have been weak. It is my want 
 of rest that has made my want of service ; my 
 spirit in its Gethsemane has been sleeping for 
 sorrow. Thou comest to awake me out of sleep, 
 to wake me by Thy rest. When I repose in 
 Thee, I shall repose in nothing else. The calm 
 of my heart shall give it wings. There is no 
 flight so high as that of the bird that has been in 
 Thy bosom. Rest my heart, O Lord, that it may 
 soar ! It has no pinions out of Thy sunshine. It 
 sings in Thy beams ; it plays in Thy smile ; it 
 flutters in Thy nest ; it flies in Thy pavilion ; it 
 leaps to Thy music ; it stirs to Thy peace ; it 
 gathers endless strength when it makes an end in 
 Thee. If I sleep in Thee, I shall do well. 
 
 27 
 
THE SAFEGUARDING OF FIRST 
 IMAGININGS 
 
 " God saw that every imagination of the thoughts of man's 
 heart was only evil continually." — Gen. vi. 5. 
 
 This is a very spiritual perception to find place 
 in so old a book. One would have thought that 
 so antique a document would have taken a more 
 outward view of the situation. We should have 
 expected it to say, " The Lord saw that man was 
 perpetrating deeds of appalling atrocity." Instead 
 of that it is not the deed at all it emphasises ; it 
 is the imaginings. And this old document is right. 
 It is before its time. In an age when men looked 
 only at the act, the writer of Genesis fixed his eye 
 on the imagination. The imagination was to him 
 what God saw — the main part of the process. You 
 and I, in all cases of moral corruption, should 
 follow the example of this ancient seer ; we should 
 seek the cause, not in the deed of to-day, but in 
 the ideal of yesterday. All corruption begins with 
 an evil imagination, in other words, with the 
 admiration of a bad ideal. The origin of sin is a 
 
 28 
 
The Safeguarding of First Imaginings 
 
 false model of greatness. A boy becomes selfish 
 because he is taught that great people are those 
 who possess much. He becomes violent, because 
 he has nursed the thought that true heroism is 
 fighting heroism. He becomes irreligious because 
 he has been told that independence is manliness. 
 The picture-book is the child's first educator ; and 
 it educates either for good or ill. It educates 
 for ill when pictures of badness are beautifully 
 painted. That becomes an imagination of the 
 heart. Evil is made attractive, fair, heroic — an 
 object to be sought for, a thing to be desired. 
 
 Ye who train the young — parents and teachers 
 —beware of the first gallery in which you put the 
 child ! Beware of the earliest pictures which its 
 heart will hold ! They are the germ-cells of the 
 spirit — they will make or mar. Beware how you 
 suffer a bright colour to light upon a vicious form ! 
 The vice will grow dim to the eye, but the bright 
 colour will remain. There is only one picture that 
 the child's heart can safely hold; it is the form of 
 Jesus. Put it there early — before all things ! Let 
 it be the first painting in the soul — the child's first 
 ideal of greatness ! Let the morning message of 
 heroism be a message of unselfishness ! Not on 
 Caesar, not on Alexander, not on Napoleon, let the 
 opening eye be centred ; point it to Jesus ! Let it 
 
 29 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 gaze on the glory of what man calls weak, unfit for 
 survival ! Let it see the strength of gentleness, 
 the courage of meekness, the might of restraint, 
 the victory of forgiveness, the majesty of patience, 
 the triumph of peacemaking, the manliness of 
 compassion, the Divineness of sacrifice ! Let it 
 behold the splendour of that epitaph, " Himself 
 He cannot save," the lustre of that inscription, 
 " Obedient unto death " ! Let it mark the heroism 
 of that bloodiest of battlefields where Love stood 
 dauntless to receive its mortal wound ! Let it 
 catch the light of the Dolorous Way, the sheen of 
 Gethsemane, the glow of Calvary — till the heart 
 of the child shall cry, " When I grow up, I will be 
 a Christ ! " Then will the tempter vanish, then 
 will the kingdom come ; for the victory is already 
 complete when we have imaged the beauty of 
 holiness. 
 
 30 
 
HE SOURCE OF UNREST 
 
 " I came not to send peace, but a sword." — Matt. x. 34. 
 
 The advent of new light is always the breaking 
 of old peace. We often speak of getting tired of 
 things. When that happens you may be sure it 
 is because a new thing has come. It is not fickle- 
 ness that makes a child weary of its toy ; it is the 
 sight of something higher. All unrest is born of 
 clearer vision. I have no doubt that, to St. John, 
 Patmos was quite tolerable till he saw the New 
 Jerusalem. When he looked upon a sea of glass he 
 began to wish that there was no more sea of water ; 
 but before that time he was probably quite satisfied 
 with the water. How small and narrow looked 
 the streets of your own town when you came back 
 from the great metropolis ! Previous to your 
 going they seemed splendid, ample, roomy; but 
 one minute of London put them in the shade. 
 So is it with the city of Christ ; it spoils me for 
 everything. The moment I rest my eye on it, I 
 can rest it on nothing else. It turns my palaces 
 into hovels ; it makes my mountains low. The 
 
 31 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 things which used to be gain to me I count loss 
 in the presence of an all-excelling glory. I may 
 even be more easily fretted than of yore ; but for 
 the love of God, I should. A man's unrest is in 
 proportion to his standard. He who knows 
 nothing of the calm depths of God may be content 
 with the tossing of the wave ; but the man who 
 has gazed on the glassy sea will wish no other 
 sea, will long for the time when storm shall be no 
 more. 
 
 This, O Son of Man, is the cross Thou bringest 
 me. I cannot escape that cross. I cannot look 
 on Thee without being disenchanted with the 
 world. Before Thy coming I was at peace. 
 Ever3'thing was to me perfect ; I said, *' It is 
 good to be here ; let me build my tabernacle here." 
 But, at Thy coming, the cloud fell. Everything 
 of mine went into hopeless shadow. My large 
 rooms looked meagre ; my gold became dim ; my 
 songs ceased to inspire me ; my books had a want 
 in them ; my entertainments left me thirsty ; my 
 ambitions most disappointed where they were 
 most fulfilled. Would I rather be without my 
 cross ? Not I. Do I deem that the former days 
 were better than these ? Yes ; as a beast counts 
 betterness. They had no shadow because they 
 had no light. Thou hast brought the shg^dow 
 
 32 
 
The Source of Unrest 
 
 because Thou hast brought the Hght. Thou hast 
 revealed mortahty through immortaHty. Thou 
 hast shown me night through day. Thou hast 
 taught me silence by music. Thou hast instructed 
 me in the thorn by the bloom of the rose. Thou 
 hast made me know deformity by the sight of Thy 
 beauty. Thou hast told me by Thy life what it 
 is to be dead. Thou hast given me a vision ot 
 earth through the gates of heaven. It is the 
 brightness of Thy coming that has consumed my 
 paltry fires ; my sword has entered by Thy peace. 
 
 33 
 
THE ORGAN OF DIVINE KNOWLEDGE 
 
 " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, the things which God 
 hath prepared for them that love Him. But God hath revealed 
 them unto us by His Spirit." — i Cor. ii. 9, 10. 
 
 Everything is seen by its own glass ; every- 
 thing looks foolish when seen through any other 
 glass. Music is meaningless when addressed only 
 to the eye ; painting has no message to the ear. 
 The deep things of man can only be seen by their 
 own faculty. So is it with the deep things of God. 
 There are things in religion which are mysteries 
 to every organ but one — the spirit of love. There 
 are depths which love alone can fathom. I hear 
 of Divine suffering ; I look through the glass of 
 reason and pronounce it a mystery. I say, Could 
 an Infinite Being be limited by human trials! 
 But the moment I learn what love is I see through 
 another glass. I see that, the more infinite love 
 is, the more limited must its possessor be. I see 
 that if God be love He not only can, but must, 
 suffer more than others. I see that if He were 
 less infinite He would be less limited, less crush d 
 
 34 
 
The Organ of Divine Knowledge 
 
 by the sorrows around Him. It is the fulness 
 of His love that makes Him so susceptible to 
 pain — the pain of others ; it is His majesty that 
 crucifies Him ; His cross is made from His 
 crown. 
 
 O Thou whose name is Love, by Thine own 
 spirit Thy mysteries are manifest to me. I 
 understand Thy cross the moment I under- 
 stand Thy glory. If Thy glory were the kingdom 
 and the power, I should think Thy cross what the 
 Romans thought it — foolishness. But Thy glory 
 is love, and therefore Thy fetter is Thy wing. 
 Thy burdens are the gems of Thy crown. I under- 
 stand why it is that all the sorrow came to Thee, 
 and not to me ; it was because Thou wert so 
 infinitely more loving. I understand why the 
 penalty of sin fell on Thy bosom, not on mine. 
 Mine had not love enough to bear that pain. It 
 would have been a mystery if it had fallen on 
 aught but Thee. It was the Divine in Thee, not 
 the human, that made Thee suffer. We speak of 
 Thy humiliation. Thy humiliation was not Thy 
 cross; it was that which hindered Thy cross. 
 Thy cross exalted Thee ; every nail was a badge 
 of royalty, every thorn a wreath of majesty. 
 Thy cross became Thee, O Christ ; it was the 
 fitting raiment of the king. It became Thee 
 35 C2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 better than the crown I meant for Thee — the 
 hosannas to the son of David. God forbid 
 that I should see Thy glory in aught beside! 
 It is all limpid-clear when seen through the glass 
 of love. 
 
 36 
 
THE SOLEMNITY OF YOUTH 
 
 " Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon 
 thou standest is holy ground." — Exod. hi. 5. 
 
 These words were first uttered to a nation's 
 youth. They are strange words to be addressed 
 to youth of any sort. They are an exhortation to 
 a feeHng of solemnity. We do not commonly 
 think of youth as a solemn time. We expect it 
 to be an ardent time, an enthusiastic time, a 
 hopeful time ; but the last thing we should asso- 
 ciate with it is solemnity. And yet I think we are 
 wrong. I believe youth to be the most solemn of 
 all seasons — more solemn than the hour of death. 
 There is an analogy between youth and death. 
 Both are beginnings, enterings upon the unknown ; 
 but they are beginnings of a very different kind. 
 In death I am passive ; I am in the hands of One, 
 and that One the highest. But in youth I am in 
 the hands of three ; I am between three currents 
 — my brother, myself and God. And they are 
 cross-currents ; they are impelling different ways. 
 Mine moves inward ; my brother's moves outward ; 
 37 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 God's moves upward. Death is not a battle-field ; 
 I am a captive there ; God is all in all. But youth 
 is a battle-field ; God, my brother, and I, are 
 on conflicting sides, and there is likely to be 
 strife. No wonder I am solemn before the 
 burning bush of the morning ! 
 
 O thou, who standest before that glowing fire, 
 put off thy shoes from off thy feet 1 My cry to 
 thee beyond all things is, " Be solemn ! " Many 
 will tell thee to be aspiring ; " the aspirations of 
 youth " has become a proverbial phrase. And yet 
 I think aspiration should be thy second thought. I 
 would have thy first thought one of reverent fear. 
 Many will bid thee mount up with eagle's wings. 
 I would have thee to feel at first a paralysis of the 
 wings. The morning sun is beating upon thee 
 and beckoning thee upward ; God calls to thee 
 out of the fire. But there are obstructions to thy 
 flight ; there are frictions of the air which impede 
 thy soaring. There are winds of passion which 
 would divert thee from thy sun. There are gusts 
 of pride that would drive thee from thy goal. 
 There are storms of temptation which fain would 
 clog thy climbing. Life is more dangerous than 
 death ; thy wayward heart misguides thee ; thy 
 brother's hand misleads thee. It is less fearful to 
 be alone with thy God than to dwell in thy God's 
 
 38 
 
The Solemnity of Youth 
 
 disputed presence. When thou standest by the 
 beautiful gate of hfe's temple, it is thy time to 
 pray. Be it thine, like the angels, to veil thy face 
 with thy wings ere thou fliest ! Be it thine to hide 
 thyself in the secret of God's pavilion ere thou 
 soarest into the sky ! Remember thy Creator in 
 the days of thy youth, for the place of the burning 
 bush is arduous ground. 
 
 39 
 
THE COMFORT OF GOD'S PARDON 
 
 "Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that 
 her iniquity is pardoned ; for she hath received of the Lord's 
 hand double for all her sins." — Isa. xl. 2. 
 
 How strange a sound of comfort ! Is there not 
 something grotesque about it ? To be told that I 
 am pardoned is doubtless consolatory ; but to be 
 told that I am pardoned because I have got double 
 punishment is surely fitted to irritate rather than 
 to please. Nay, but it is not the punishment God 
 speaks of; it is the reparation. Is there any pure 
 soul that would like to be pardoned without atone- 
 ment, without paying back even more than he 
 took away! If I have done my brother a wrong 
 and there comes to me a voice through the silent 
 air, " Be of good cheer, it will be all forgiven," 
 would that really give me cheer ? Not if mine 
 were a pure soul. I would ask something more 
 than my pardon — the reparation of my wrong. I 
 would ask to pay, to pay more. I would ask not 
 only to be allowed to restore, but to be allowed 
 to enrich — not simply to fill the coffers I have 
 40 
 
The Comfort of God's Pardon 
 
 emptied, but to place a larger treasure in their 
 room. There is no sweetness in my pardon until 
 I am told that my deed has been washed away. 
 
 From Thy hands alone, O Lord, can I receive 
 a pardon that shall comfort, because from Thy 
 hands alone can they whom I have injured be 
 recompensed. Men speak of Thy forgiving love 
 in redeeming from the fires of hell, but there is no 
 fire so hot to me as the remorse for yesterday. I 
 have injured my brothers a hundred times. Some 
 of them are beyond the reach of my remedy. 
 Who shall make it up to them when they have 
 passed out of my hands ! If it cannot be made 
 up to them, it will not be made up to me. Pity 
 will not do it ; mercy will not do it ; pardon will 
 not do it ; love will not do it ; heaven itself will 
 not do it. If I have caused eternal pain, I think 
 I would rather have pain than joy. How could I 
 sit beside Lazarus if I knew that I had helped 
 Dives to his seat below ! Thou alone canst satisfy 
 me, O Lord. Only from Thy hands can I receive 
 the reparation of my sin. Many of my victims 
 have passed beyond me ; but they have not passed 
 beyond Thee, Thou boldest all things in the 
 hollow of Thy hand. Make it up to them, my 
 God ! Pay them what I owe ! Recompense their 
 loss ! Compensate their tears ! Mitigate the pain 
 
 .41 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 which I have brought them ! Nay, better, turn 
 the pain into a glory ! If I have sent Jacob to He 
 on a pillow of stone, make it to him a place for 
 angels ! If I have driven Joseph into a dungeon, 
 lead him through it to a throne ! If I have cast 
 Moses on the rude waters, bear him on their 
 bosom to a happy shore ! If I have helped to 
 wound the Son of Man, make His cross the 
 world's crown ! My pardon shall be perfect 
 comfort when Thou hast redeemed my sin. 
 
 42 
 
THE FEAST BEFORE SUFFERING 
 
 " With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you 
 before I suffer." — Luke xxii. 15. 
 
 Why had our Lord this desire ? One would 
 think the suffering so serious a thing as to make 
 the passover a matter of no account. Nay ; it was 
 just because the suffering was so serious that the 
 passover was of account. For what is the idea of 
 the passage ? It is that joy is the best preparation 
 for sorrow. Strange as we may think it, it is not 
 pain that helps us to bear pain ; it is the remains 
 of gladness. Take any moment of your grief, and 
 ask what it is that has kept you from breaking 
 down utterly. You will find it is some comfort in 
 reserve. We are saved by the patch of blue sky. 
 Particularly are we saved by the patch of blue sky 
 in the firmament of love. It is easier to bear a 
 thing when I am surrounded by those whom I 
 love. I think I could endure consciously a physical 
 operation if one whom I loved were to hold my 
 hand. So felt the Son of Man. He wanted to arm 
 Himself with sunbeams before He suffered. He 
 
 43 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 desired to warm Himself at the fire of the human 
 heart before He went out into the night cold. He 
 felt that the flood would be easier to breast if He 
 first saw the rainbow ; He sought to be transfigured 
 by the light of joy ere He was called to enter into 
 the cloud. 
 
 O Thou who still art suffering on the cross of 
 human sin, let me strengthen Thee by my love ! 
 It is a bold prayer. We often ask Thy strength 
 for conflict, but Thou hast taught us that we can 
 strengthen Thee. Thou art going forth as of yore 
 up the Dolorous Way ; take the passover with me 
 before Thou goest ! Come into my pavilion and 
 warm Thyself at the fire ! for it is toward evening 
 and the day is far spent. I would anoint Thee for 
 Thy burial, O Christ. I would bring Thee the 
 alabaster box in advance of the pain. I feel that 
 the alabaster box will mitigate the pain. There 
 are angels that strengthen us before we suffer ; let 
 me be such to Thee ! Let me tell Thee of my love, 
 my deathless love ! Let me speak to Thee of my 
 faith, my cloudless faith ! Let me sing to Thee of 
 my hope, my immortal hope! Let me offer Thee 
 on the road to Jerusalem the sight of a fig-tree 
 where the fruit is already come ! So shalt Thou 
 eat the passover before Thy suffering, and my hand 
 shall be privileged to pluck a thorn from Thy brow. 
 
 44 
 
THE EXALTATION OF HUMILITY 
 
 " He that shall humble himself shall be exalted." — 
 Matt, xxiii. 12. 
 
 I DO not understand the words to mean that if 
 we begin by having a low opinion of ourselves, 
 God will ultimately give us a high one. If humility 
 is not to be a permanent virtue it is hard to see 
 why it should exist at all. But I take the words 
 to mean that if a man becomes perfectly humble 
 his humility itself will become his greatness. Have 
 you ever felt what a compliment it is, when a man 
 is possessed of any special virtue, to be able to say 
 of him, " It is no merit ; he cannot help it ! " To 
 my mind, it is the climax of all compliment. In 
 the world of intellect every man would deem it so. 
 What do we mean by the word *' genius " ? Is it 
 not simply that a man cannot help being great ? 
 He sings or paints, not because he can, but 
 because he must, because there is within him a 
 breath of inspiration which will not let him go 
 until he has blessed the world. That is genius — 
 the thing which all men reverence. They reverence 
 
 45 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 the man because he cannot help it, because he is 
 dominated by a power higher than his own. His 
 greatness is his prostration ; his glory is his 
 dependence ; his crown is the fact of being 
 conquered ; he is exalted by humility. 
 
 O Thou Divine Love, Thou art the genius of 
 the heart. The moment Thou comest, I say, " I 
 cannot help it." Before Thou comest, I have 
 power to do good or to do bad as I like. But when 
 Thou enterest, my own will dies; it becomes 
 Thine. And I feel that when this happens I am 
 not poorer but richer, that I have not lost but 
 gained. I never really prevail until my own power 
 is lamed in the fight ; I never conquer till I can 
 fight no more. Come and conquer me, Thou 
 overmastering Love ! It is the wrestling of my 
 will against Thee that makes me small. My 
 independence of Thee is my night ; I shall cease 
 to wrestle when the day breaks. I must wrestle 
 when I have only duty and conscience ; and when 
 I win I am proud of myself, for I feel how difficult 
 it has been. But when Thou comest, O Love, 
 there will be no difficulty. I shall no longer have 
 strength to strive. I shall lie passive upon Thy 
 bosom ; I shall lean helpless on Thine arm ; I 
 shall be borne resistless in Thy chariot. My pride 
 shall be that I have no will ; my soul shall make 
 
 46 
 
The Exaltation of Humility 
 
 its boast in the Lord; my charm shall be my 
 chain ; my peace shall be my prison ; my faith 
 shall be my fetters ; my beauty shall be my 
 binding ; my courage shall be my constraint ; my 
 strength shall be my subduing ; my grace shall be 
 Thy grasp upon my hand. Truly I am only 
 exalted in the deepest vale. 
 
 47 
 
GOD'S PROMISE OF HAPPINESS 
 
 •* Thou shalt make them drink of the river of Thy pleasures.** 
 — Ps. XXXVI. 8. 
 
 God never keeps the best wine to Himself; He 
 makes His people drink from the river of His own 
 pleasures. It is a marvellous thought that a finite 
 creature should be allowed to have infinite joy. 
 What is infinite joy ? It is not so much joy 
 beyond bounds as joy beyond boundaries. It is 
 the joy in everything that is outside of myself. 
 The river of God's pleasures is the happiness in 
 others being happy. Its peculiarity is told in the 
 book of Genesis; it went out of Eden, and from 
 thence it was parted, and became four heads. 
 That is ever its description. It will not remain 
 in its own Eden. It goes out from its personal 
 joy. It breaks its own unity. It insists on divid- 
 ing itself, sharing itself. Often have I thought 
 of these words : " When Thou shalt make His 
 soul an offering for sin, the pleasure of the Lord 
 shall prosper in His hands." One would think 
 there was no prosperity about it. Was it not a 
 
 48 
 
God's Promise of Happiness 
 
 sacrifice ? Yes ; but the pleasure of the Lord is 
 sacrifice. It is the joy of giving joy, and therefore 
 of giving up. It is the gladness of parting with 
 a portion of the waters. It is the making of 
 the wine of Cana by shedding the blood of 
 Calvary. 
 
 My soul, do not say to thyself, " What is the 
 good of being a Christian ? " It is true those 
 who are not have joy as well. But thy Lord 
 never promised thee a monopoly of joy ; He 
 promised thee a monopoly of the river of His 
 pleasures. It is not thy happiness that marks 
 thee out ; it is the kind of thy happiness. There 
 are joys which belong to the world. They are 
 not bad ; yet one need not be a saint to have 
 them. But this is a joy which saints alone can 
 share. It is unique, it is peculiar, it is the stamp 
 of Heaven. There are many ways of being blest ; 
 but it is a s^reat thing to be the ** blessed of the 
 Fath^y^' — tc hear the words, *' I was hungry and 
 ye gave i>Ie meat ; I was thirsty and ye gave Me 
 drink; I was a stranger and ye took Me in." 
 Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord ! Enter into 
 the gladness of making glad ! Enter into the rest 
 of giving rest ! Enter into the peace of shedding 
 peace ! Launch thy boat on the river that makes 
 glad God's city ! Let the winter's ice of thy 
 
 19 ^ 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 heart be melted, even though it be by fire, that 
 thou mayst embark in that ship wherein thy Lord 
 saileth ! The river of God's pleasure flovi^s into 
 the ocean of His love. 
 
 50 
 
THE CROSS NO LOSS 
 
 ••I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil."— Matt. v. 17. 
 
 Christ is the only physician of the soul who 
 does not restore by destroying ; all other helpers 
 cure by lopping off a limb. It is possible to cure 
 in such a way. It is possible to make me good 
 by deadening me. You can stop my flight into 
 danger by depriving me of my wing. Many a 
 child has been made obedient by destroying its 
 power of will. Many a youth has been made 
 moral by the mere exhaustion of his passions. 
 Many a man has come to long for Heaven, only 
 because he has lost the chance of ambition on 
 earth. You may vanquish temptation at too dear 
 a price — you may become too cold to feel. The 
 benumbed heart will do no wrong. It will neither 
 strive nor cry, neither plot nor scheme, neither 
 fret nor scold ; yet it is not thereby justified. It 
 strives not, because it cares not ; it has no temp- 
 tation, because it has no desire. It has ceased to 
 
 51 D 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 hate, because it has ceased to love. It is salvation 
 by death. 
 
 Not so is Thy coming, O Thou Saviour of Men. 
 Thou dost not make the perfume by trampling on 
 the flower. Man often gets the fragrance of a 
 harmless life by breaking the ointment box. Not 
 so dost Thou call forth life's fragrance. Not by 
 less, but by more love, dost Thou save us ; not 
 by diminished life, but by life "more abundant," 
 dost Thou make us beautiful. They tell me that 
 Thou requirest the sacrifice of self. Nay, my 
 Lord, not its sacrifice, but its enlargement. Thou 
 breakest a wall in my room, but it is that I may 
 include my brother's room in mine. Not to 
 destroy, but to fulfil, has the breakage come. I 
 have been living in too small a house ; I have 
 been failing to see that my brother is a part of 
 myself; I have been cherishing the delusion that 
 the wall in my room is the limit of my interest. 
 Therefore, Thou hast broken my wall, and let in 
 the light beyond. Thou hast broken my wall and 
 made me say, " I and my brother are one " ; Thou 
 hast broken my wall, and hast widened the range 
 of my self-love. I have not sacrificed myself; I 
 have grown into a bigger self. I have not lost 
 respect for the members of my body, but I have 
 added to their number the members of Thine. I 
 
 52 
 
The Cross no Loss 
 
 have not ceased to care for the calamities of life, 
 but I have learned to say of these calamities, 
 ** Inasmuch as they did it unto the least, they 
 have done it unto me." My soul has not been 
 crucified by yielding to Thy cross ; Thou art not 
 come to destroy, but to fulfil. 
 
 53 
 
THE UTILITY OF BEAUTY 
 
 •' To what purpose is this waste."— Matt. xxvi. 8. 
 
 This is the earliest protest against external 
 beauty in the service of Christ. Mary was serving 
 Christ's own person — pouring on His head a rich 
 and costly perfume. The disciples objected to the 
 act on the ground that it was merely ornamental, 
 not useful. They said that a box of ointment, 
 however precious, had nothing to do with their 
 salvation. Were they not preparing for eternity, and 
 was not this a perishable riches ! Were they not 
 told to seek the unseen, and was not this a thing to 
 please the eye ! Were they not taught that Jesus 
 was to be served by spiritual things, and was not 
 this a trinket of the hour, which would not last an 
 hour ! So thought the earliest Philistines in the 
 camp of Jesus. But they made one great mistake 
 — and it has been repeated by their successors. 
 They thought that a thing could be beautiful 
 without being useful. It cannot. To me the 
 main value of beauty is its usefulness. I regard a 
 scene of beauty as exercising a mechanical power — ■ 
 
 ^4 
 
The Utility of Beauty 
 
 as mechanical as the steam-engine, and more 
 effective. The steam-engine can move heavy 
 bodies ; but a thing of beauty can move heavy 
 hearts. Very unaccountable is this moving power 
 of beauty; it often acts without an ally. I feel 
 disconsolate, pessimistic, despairing; I weigh 
 everything and find it wanting. Suddenly there 
 streams a sunbeam from the hill and there is 
 wafted a breath from the sea, and in a moment 
 all is changed. My clouds vanish ; my pessimism 
 melts ; my gloom dies away. Nothing has 
 happened to make it glide away — nothing but the 
 streaming of the sunbeam and the wafting of 
 ocean's breath. But these are, for the day and 
 hour, my Father's sacraments to me. They are 
 very fugitive things — more fugitive than was the 
 ointment from the box outpoured. That special 
 sunbeam was superseded by another ray. That 
 special breath of ocean fainted on the bosom of 
 the hour. But they had lifted my soul to a city 
 on the hill, and when they were gone my soul still 
 rested there. Who would measure their use by 
 their duration ! One special strain of music may 
 keep me all night in joy. 
 
 My soul, despise not the power of beauty ! The 
 sunbeam and the song are sacraments of thy 
 Father, They are the bread broken outside the 
 
 55 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 church — the bread broken to the multitude. We 
 have our sacraments with Christ; but there are 
 times of desert Hfe when we need our Father's 
 bread. Uncover thy head before the sacrament of 
 beauty ! Bow reverently at the distribution of 
 Nature's sacred elements! Survey the passion of 
 Divine love that meets thee in the shed blood of 
 the sunbeam ! Behold the outpouring of the cup 
 that blesses thee in the dew and the rain ! Adore 
 the universal communion that makes its light to 
 rise on the evil and the good! Forget not at 
 morn or evening to keep thy Father's feast ; for 
 the wafting of ocean's breath is the wafting of the 
 Father's incense, and the breaking of the sunbeam 
 is the breaking of the Father's bread. 
 
 S6 
 
THE MINISTRY OF JOY TO GRIEF 
 
 •• There shall be no night there." — Rev. xxi, 25. 
 
 How, then, can there be a serving of the 
 sorrowful ? You tell me that heaven is a land of 
 ministration. How can it be so if my heart is to 
 have the joy of morning ? Can joy minister to 
 grief? Yes, joy alone can. It is not night that 
 ministers to night ; it is nightlessness. To meet 
 the clouds of others I should myself be clear. If 
 I have lost a child and my neighbour across the 
 street has lost a child, the common experience 
 does not itself make either of us helpful to the 
 other. To be helpful to my neighbour it is not 
 enough that I have passed into the same valley ; 
 I must have passed through. " Yea, though I walk 
 through the valley " is a saying of deep significance. 
 It is not the darkness that makes me a comforter ; 
 it is seeing the exit at the foot of the lane. It is 
 being able to say, "/ have passed through; you 
 will also." 
 
 O Thou who art training me to be a ministering 
 spirit, let me enter into Thy joy ! Ere I go with 
 
 57 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 Thee into the wilderness, let me stand with Thee 
 by the glad streams of Jordan ; let me see the 
 opened heavens and the descending dove ! It was 
 by the joy set before Thee that Thou didst bear 
 my cross ; how else shall I bear Thine I Thou 
 hast said that Thy yoke of ministration is easy 
 and its burden light ; but to whom ? To those 
 who have found rest to their souls. Thou hast 
 bidden me learn of Thee; and that is Thy 
 experience. It was the gleam of Olivet that made 
 possible Thy Calvary. In vain shall I seek my 
 brother's night if there is night in my own soul. 
 In vain shall I stand by when he drinks the cup 
 of sorrow, in vain shall I participate in his cup of 
 sorrow, if I have not seen the sparkle in the bitter 
 draught. Show me that sparkle, O Lord ! Reveal 
 to me the sunlight in the cup ! I would not go 
 forth to help the sad on the mere ground that I 
 have myself been sad. I would see Thy crown in 
 my own waters before I say to my brother, " Peace, 
 be still." Reveal to me Thy gold ere I go ! Let 
 me stand with Thee one hour on the mountain 
 ere I descend to meet the valley ! Let me catch 
 the morning rays ere I confront the evening 
 shadows ! My heart will be a minister to the 
 night when there is no night there. 
 
 58 
 
THE CITY OF GOD 
 
 ••New Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven."— 
 Rev. III. 12. 
 
 All the old Jerusalems go tip. The cities of 
 this world are ambitious to beautify themselves. 
 They have the pride of the Tower of Babel. So 
 eager are they to ascend that the upper part of 
 them leaves the lower behind, and there is a great 
 gulf fixed between rich and poor. The Jerusalems 
 of earth are ever flying from their lowly places — 
 sending their best men into the heights where they 
 shall escape the cry of the vulgar crowd. But it 
 is not so with the New Jerusalem, the city of my 
 God. This has ever a descending attitude. Its 
 goal is toward the places from which the cities of 
 the world wish to fly ; it moves downward. It is 
 afraid to reap a solitary privilege, a privilege not 
 shared by all. It knows well that its high places 
 must catch the sun ; but it wants its vales to catch 
 it too. It is anxious for the masses — those that 
 toil and spin, those that hunger and thirst, those 
 that work and weep. It would bring the grapes 
 
 59 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 of Eshcol to the Hps that are parched, the rose of 
 Sharon to the eyes that are weary, the chariots of 
 Israel to the feet that are lame. It would take 
 foundling children to the arms of shelter. It would 
 bring the leper from the tombs. It would lead 
 blind Bartimseus from the cold streets. It would 
 make a place for the beggar Lazarus within the 
 gates. It would let Christ speak to the demoniac. 
 It would give penitent Peter a new commission 
 after his great denial. It would light a warm fire 
 for Magdalene when she has washed the Divine 
 feet with her tears. 
 
 Thou art descending, O city of God ; I see thee 
 coming nearer and nearer. Tongues are dead, 
 prophecies are dying ; but charity is born. Our 
 castles rise into the air and vanish ; but love is 
 bending lower every day. Man says, *' Let us 
 make a tower on earth which shall reach unto 
 heaven " ; but God says, " Let us make a tower in 
 heaven which shall reach unto earth." O descend- 
 ing city, O humanitarian city, O city for the out- 
 cast and forlorn, we hail thee, we greet thee, we 
 meet thee ! All the isles wait for thee — the lives 
 riven from the mainland — the isolated, shunted, 
 stranded lives ! They sing a new song at thy 
 coming, and the burden of its music is this, " He 
 hath prepared for me a city " ! 
 
 60 
 
THE FAULT OF OUR FIRST 
 ASPIRINGS 
 
 " Let us build a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven."— 
 Gen. XI. 4. 
 
 When man uttered these words, he was a child. 
 Children are very ambitious — more ambitious than 
 grown-up people. Grown-up people ask things 
 that are possible ; children cry for the supernatural. 
 I think our sen-^e of power increases in proportion 
 as we are undeveloped. One would imagine that 
 a little child, coming within the gates of this 
 universe, would have a startled feeling, and that 
 the startled feeling would gradually wear off as he 
 advanced on life's journey. In truth, it is all the 
 reverse ; we get startled as we go. Our first view 
 of the golden gates is not appalling ; it frightens 
 neither the child nor the savage. I do not think 
 wonder belongs to the earliest mind either of race 
 or individual. To both alike the sky can be scaled ; 
 the motto of each is this, '' Let us make a tower, 
 whose top may reach unto heaven 1 " This world 
 is a place where human beings are taught to climb ; 
 
 61 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 but it is to climb down. It is quite natural for us to 
 go up. The writer of the Book of Job says, " Man 
 is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward." I 
 think he must have meant, *' Man is born to fly up- 
 ward like the sparks, and therefore he is troubled." 
 At all events, that is true. Our early dangers come 
 from our early daringness — not from our early 
 feebleness. Young Adam always begins with the 
 biggest tree and always gets a fall. God's educa- 
 tion of the earth is a series of lessons in " how^ to 
 descend"— in the moderation of desire. Christian 
 prayer itself is a moderation of desire. It is a 
 refusal any longer to say of everything, *' It is 
 mine." It is the refusal to ask that which will lift 
 me above other people. It is the cry to have my 
 garments parted among the multitude. It is the 
 impulse, the determination, the instinct, \o share. 
 
 Lord, break my primitive tower ! It is built 
 with a child's arrogance — not with a man's 
 humility ; break my primitive tower ! My feeblest 
 moments are my most grasping moments — I am 
 never such an egotist as in the cradle ; break my 
 primitive tower ! Like the sparks, I have been 
 born to fly upwards, and to leave my brother 
 behind. I need a second birth — a power to fly 
 downward. I need more weight on the wings; 
 every weight will be to me " a weight of glory." 
 
 62 
 
The Fault of Our First Aspirings 
 
 The glory of the bird is its boundlessness ; but the 
 glory of the man is his boundary. Limit my 
 desires, O Lord ! Restrain the flight of my 
 personal prayers ! Put a weight on the wings of 
 each individual wish — the remembrance of my 
 brother ! In my childhood I cried for all things ; 
 in manhood I dare not. I can still pray without 
 ceasing, but I can no longer pray without limit. 
 What if I ask the gold that was meant for another ! 
 What if I seek the place that was made for 
 another ! What if I claim the work that was 
 planned for another! Methinks the pauses of 
 prayer are more noble than its flights. In these 
 pauses I say, " Not my will, but Thine." Are 
 they not to Thee the finest parts of the music, O 
 my Father ! There is no architecture so beautiful 
 to Thee as my arrested tower — my tower arrested 
 that another may have room. Never let me build, 
 even in my prayers, a house with so many 
 mansions for myself that I cannot say to my 
 brother, *' I have prepared a place (or you '* 1 
 
 63 
 
THE THREE CHORDS OF LOVE 
 
 "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and 
 with all thy soul, and with all thy mind." — Matt. xxii. 37. 
 
 There are three kinds of love — perhaps rather 
 I should say, three instruments on which love 
 plays. It may manifest itself through the heart, 
 through the soul, or through the mind. My love 
 for you may be either practical, admiring, or 
 communing. The love of the heart is practical ; 
 it ministers in common things. The love of the 
 soul is admiration ; it looks upon a far-off glory 
 and longs to be near it. The love of the mind is 
 communion ; it has touched a point of equality 
 with its object ; it can listen and respond. A 
 mother's love for her child is that of the heart ; it 
 is helpful. A poet's love for Nature is that of the 
 soul ; it is wondering, admiring. A friend's love 
 for a friend is that of the mind ; it is intellectual 
 sympathy — communion. I think our love for God 
 plays successively each of these tunes. We begin 
 with the heart ; we say, '' Our Father "; we try to 
 work for our Father. By-and-by the vision of wonder 
 
 64 
 
The Three Chords of Love 
 
 breaks upon us — the love of the soul ; we bow with 
 admiration before the mysteries of the universe. 
 At last comes the glad morning — the love of the 
 mind ; we begin to know God — to commune with 
 Him, to speak with Him face to face as a man 
 speaketh with his friend. That is the manhood 
 of our love. 
 
 My God, I long to reach this third stage — this 
 summer of my pilgrimage. I have seen Thee as a 
 child sees its father ; it was a sweet feeling, yet it 
 was a feehng of dependence — it did not bring me 
 quite near Thee. I have seen Thee again as the 
 poet sees his promised land of beauty ; it was a 
 grand vision, yet it was a vision which dwarfed the 
 passing day, which overshadowed the common 
 hour. I want more than that. I want to feel 
 Thee by my side, to walk with Thee, to talk with 
 Thee. I may love with the heart where I have no 
 communion of mind ; I may love with the soul 
 where I have imperfect communion of mind ; but 
 to love with the mind is to understand. Not my 
 sense of dependence is Thy deepest joy; not my 
 gaze of wonder is Thy brightest sunshine. The 
 love that lights Thee most is the love that can 
 understand Thee — the love of the mind. I would 
 be called no more servant, but friend. Hitherto 
 I have been content to receive Thy protection ; but 
 65 E 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 that will not break Thy solitude. If I am always 
 to be a child, there will be no companionship for 
 Thee. Shalt Thou tread the winepress alone — 
 with none to understand Thee ! Shall Thy 
 Gethsemane hour have only my pity, only my 
 wonder ! I have seen a child weep for its father's 
 pain without knowing why its father grieved ; it 
 was the love of the heart, but not yet the love of 
 the mind. Not so would I come into Thy Garden, 
 O God. I would come to comprehend Thee, to 
 know Thee, to appreciate Thee. I would forget 
 my dependence. I would rise into Thy fellowship. 
 Thy communion. I would cease to follow; I 
 would walk side by side. I would share Thy 
 burden ; I would adopt Thy name ; I would 
 assimilate Thine accent ; I would appropriate 
 Thy cause. Give me this final love, this mental 
 love, O Lord ; for he that loves Thee with the 
 mmd loves Thee also with the heart and with the 
 soul. 
 
 66 
 
COMFORT IN PROSTRATION 
 
 ••Thou compassest my lying down." — Ps. cxxxix. 3. 
 
 Our moments of " lying down " are not generally 
 deemed Divine moments. We can understand the 
 previous words, "Thou compassest my path,'* — 
 my walk of life. That is a sphere of action — 
 where it is possible for us to do great things. But 
 that our times of quiescence should be times of 
 Divine interest, that our seasons of inaction 
 should be seasons of the presence of God — this is 
 strange indeed ! Yes, and it is as comforting as 
 it is strange. You and I are often called to 
 experience these moments of " lying down." 
 There are times when, in the language of another 
 psalm, our strength is *' weakened in the way." 
 There are seasons when we have to leave the path 
 and go home — go into retirement, into solitude, 
 into seeming uselessness. And the hardest part 
 of these moments is just the sense of having 
 missed our destiny. We have been shunted from 
 the path, we have been made to lie down ; and 
 it seems to us as if God had no further place 
 
 67 E 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 for us beneath the circle of the sun. What a 
 comfort at such moments are these words of the 
 ancient psalmist, '' Thou compassest my lying 
 down"! They tell us that the quiescent hour 
 may be a Divine hour, that the seemingly useless 
 moment may be full of God. They tell us that 
 the greatest day of our life may be the day after 
 we have quitted the path — the day of our prostra- 
 tion, our pain, our weariness. They tell us that 
 the places where we are forced to lie down may 
 be God's green pastures, that the coming to quiet 
 waters may be God's own leading. The hour 
 which our soul is rejecting may be the hour when 
 the kingdom has come. 
 
 O Christ of Calvary, in my days of valley and 
 shadow help me to feel that '*Thou art with me'M 
 It is not enough for me to feel that, one day, there 
 will be mountain and sunshine. No ; that is only 
 to say Thou wilt be with me in the future. I want 
 Thee now. What I need is not help to leave the 
 valley nor help to clear the shadow. I want to 
 feel that Thou art in the valley, that Thou art in 
 the shadow. I want my " lying down " itself lo 
 be glorified. It is something to know that Thou 
 wilt raise me up at the last day — on the day when 
 my disciphne is completed ; but it is not enough for 
 me. Is the time of my rest to be Godless — without 
 
 68 
 
Comfort in Prostration 
 
 Thy presence ! Is my valley to be a waste place, 
 a useless place, a place where Thou art not ! Is 
 my shadow to be an eclipse of Thee ^ a blotting out of 
 Thee ! It is not enough to know that to-morrow 
 the cup will pass ; I must be able to feel, with 
 Thee, that to-day it is " the cup my Father has 
 given me." Reveal to me the glory of Gethsemane 1 
 Reveal to me the majesty of my desert hour! 
 Reveal to me the ladder of angels that rose from 
 my couch of clay! Reveal to me the Bethlehem 
 songs that came from my midnight silence! 
 Reveal to me the multitudes in my wilderness — 
 the crowds that waited on me when I thought 
 myself alone ! My life will be robbed of half its 
 weariness when I see Thee compassing my "lying 
 down." 
 
 69 
 
THE CAUSE OF SLOW PROGRESS 
 
 ■• I have loved Thee with an everlasting love ; therefore with 
 lovingkindness have I drawn Thee." — Jer. xxxi. 3. 
 
 I UNDERSTAND the word " drawn *' to be used 
 here as the opposite of " driven." I take the 
 meaning to be : " It is because I love you that I 
 do not force you ; I desire to win by love." We 
 often express surprise that human life does not 
 reveal more traces of God's omnipotence. We 
 see the visible universe subject to inexorable law 
 and yielding submissively to that law. But man 
 does not yield submissively ; he resists the will of 
 the Eternal. Why should he be allowed to resist ? 
 Is he not but an atom in the infinite spaces — these 
 spaces that obey the heavenly mandate ? Why 
 not put down his insane rebellion and crush his 
 proud will into conformity with the universal 
 chorus ? The Bible gives its answer. It is 
 because love is incompatible with the exercise of 
 omnipotence. Inexorable law can rule the stars ; 
 but the stars are not an object of love. Man is an 
 object of love, and therefore he can only be ruled 
 
 70 
 
The Cause of Slow Progress 
 
 by love — as the prophet puts it, ** drawn." Nothing 
 is a conquest for love but the power of drawing. 
 Omnipotence can subdue by driving — but that is 
 not a conquest for love ; it is rather a sign that 
 love is baffled. Therefore it is that our Father 
 does not compel us to come in. He would have us 
 ** drawn " by the beauty of holiness ; therefore 
 He veils all that would force the will. He hides 
 the glories of Heaven. He conceals the gates of 
 pearl and the streets of gold. He reveals not the 
 river of His pleasures. He curtains from the ear 
 the music of the upper choir. He obscures in the 
 sky the sign of the Son of Man. He forbids the 
 striking of the hours on the clock of Eternity. He 
 treads on a path of velvet lest the sound of His 
 coming footsteps should conquer by fear the heart 
 that ought to be won by love. 
 
 O Thou whose name is Love, it is by that 
 name alone I can explain why things move so 
 slow. But in the light of that name I understand ; 
 the pauses become musical, the halts are stages of 
 the march. I have heard a man express the wish 
 to be in Thy place for one day ; he thought he 
 would reform Thy universe. He would have 
 spoiled it. He would have conquered the refrac- 
 tory child by killing its will. Not thus would Thy 
 Divine Fatherhood be victorious. Thou wouldst 
 71 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 rather draw by the cross than drive by the crown. 
 Often it seems to me that this world of Thine 
 appeals more to the heart than to any other part 
 of my nature. It is not all beautiful, it is not all 
 poetical, it is not all intelligible, it is not all 
 practical ; but it is every inch pathetic. There is 
 pathos in the starry night ; there is pathos in the 
 moaning sea ; there is pathos in the monotonous 
 stream ; there is pathos in the song of birds; 
 there is pathos in the human tear ; there is pathos 
 even in the rolling wheels of daily labour. Thou 
 art leading me by weary paths — paths where I 
 feel my brother's pain, paths where I touch my 
 brother's thorn. Had I been a butterfly Thou 
 wouldst have tempted me by roses and hurried me 
 through the field ; but because I am a man Thou 
 hast drawn me by the slow cord — the winning of 
 my heart. 
 
 72 
 
CHRISTIAN MESMERISM 
 
 ••When I am weak, then am I strong." — 2 Cor. xii. 10 
 
 What does Paul mean ? Does he mean that a 
 man is stronger in proportion to his infirmities ? 
 No ; the weakness Paul speaks of is not infirmity ; 
 it is self-surrender. What he says is that nothing 
 helps a man to bear a burden so much as the 
 captivity of the heart to a separate influence. We 
 see a practical illustration of this in the modern 
 process called hypnotism — now accepted as 
 scientific. The subject of it is deemed a weakling 
 because he gives up his will to another ; yet he 
 can often do in his weakness what he could not do 
 in his strength — he generally surpasses his normal 
 self. Paul says, " My greatest strength has come 
 from moments of Divine hypnotism ; I have never 
 been so able to bear my burden as when my will 
 has been absolutely enthralled by the beauty of 
 another — that peerless Other — Christ." And who 
 does not feel with Paul that the best cure for a 
 burden is not the conscious struggle with it, but 
 my surrender to something else. It makes a great 
 
 73 
 
Thoughts for Life's ^ourney 
 
 difference to tne length of a journey whether you 
 are walking for your health or walking for converse 
 with me. The length of the j-^urney is in the 
 former case a burden ; and it is an exact type of 
 all the burdens of life. The burdens of two men 
 may be physically equal ; their amount may be 
 the same, their weight the same. Yet the sense of 
 heaviness may be very different. He who lifts in 
 love will lift easily. He will have a power coming 
 from his weakness — from the captivity of his will. 
 His weight will be his wing, his fetter will be his 
 force, his prison will be his power ; like the phoenix 
 bird, he will rise from his own ashes ; his strength 
 will be perfected in weakness. 
 
 Make me Thy captive, O Christ, and I shall be 
 free. Bind me with Thy chain, and I shall be 
 slave to none beside. There are no moments in 
 which I am so weak as when my love is low. 
 When my heart has no master, my life is mastered 
 by all things. I have heard men ask how much 
 water would be deep enough to drown them. I 
 have found that a pool would be deep enough for 
 me without Thee. I have found that any calamity 
 would be overwhelming if I had nothing to think 
 of but itself — but w^self. It is not the weight of 
 my affliction that kills me ; it is its monopoly — its 
 entire possession of my soul. Break that monopoly, 
 
 74 
 
Christian Mesmerism 
 
 O Lord ! Withdraw my heart from the sole 
 companionship with its grief! I shall never be 
 emancipated from any sorrow except by a new 
 fetter. I shall never conquer my pain till Thou 
 hast conquered my heart. Bring me Thy golden 
 bonds — love's bonds! Bring me Thy silken cord 
 — the cord of devotion ! Bring me Thy sparkling 
 chain — the chain of sympathy! There is no 
 mesmerist like my love. In Thee I can forget my 
 pain. In Thee I can taste the bitter as sweet. In 
 Thee I can see new visions on the old spot. In 
 Thee I can become impervious to cold, to hunger, 
 to weariness. In Thee I can lose my natural fears. 
 In Thee I can speak with tongues — I who was 
 once too timid to speak at all. If only I shall 
 steadfastly gaze into Thy lace, if only I shall 
 perfectly give up my will to Thine, I shall be 
 ** changed into the same image from glory to 
 glory/* Mesmerise my will, O Lord I 
 
 75 
 
THE CHRISTIAN SOLDIER'S SHIELD 
 
 •• Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered for us in the flesh, 
 arm yourselves likewise with the same mind." — i Peter iv. i. 
 
 These words were spoken to a military empire. 
 They were spoken amid a people who had raised 
 themselves by the practice of arms. To such a 
 race the exhortation must have been startling. 
 It promised a new kind of armour, a new species 
 of defence. Such a promise must have made the 
 Roman start and look round. But when he saw 
 the proposed armour he must have laughed. It 
 had neither length, breadth, nor thickness. It 
 could not inflict a single wound upon an enemy. 
 Nay, it was itself a wound. The very putting of it 
 on involved mutilation to the man who wore it. 
 *' Forasmuch as Christ hath suffered in the flesh, 
 arm yourselves therefore with the same mind." 
 We can understand a Christian exhorted to the 
 spirit of sacrifice ; but is not that an exhortation 
 to divest yourself of armour ! The novelty of 
 Peter's exhortation does not lie in being told to 
 cultivate the mind of Jesus, but in being told that 
 
 76 
 
The Christian Soldier's Shield 
 
 the mind of Jesus is a source of Roman defence. 
 We all admit sacrifice to be a virtue, but we never 
 think of it as a panoply. We have recognised it 
 as a capacity to yield, but we are not accustomed 
 to view it as a capacity to resist. And yet Peter 
 is right. There is no power that resists danger 
 like the sacrificial powder of love. If ever a man 
 learned this by experience it was Peter. When- 
 ever he b5gan to sink it was from internal causes. 
 He went out to meet in the morning a storm from 
 which he recoiled at night. Why ? Had the 
 storm increased in violence with the circling 
 hours ? No. It was exactly the same as in the 
 morning — no less, no more. But in the interval 
 there was something which had increased — Peter's 
 sacrificial love. He had begun to be self-conscious. 
 He had turned his gaze from Jesus ; he had 
 directed his eye to the winds and the sea. There- 
 fore the winds and the sea became too strong for 
 him ; he had lost his life-belt. 
 
 Put on thine armour, O my soul — the armour 
 of self-sacrifice ! Not by self-mutilation canst thou 
 put it on ; thy sacrifice must come not from thy 
 grief but from thy joy. There is a sacrifice which 
 comes from grief, but it is not an armour. Many 
 have fled from the world through disappointment; 
 yet the world has followed them into their solitude. 
 
 77 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 But thy sacrifice must come from gladness, from 
 the greatest joy of the heart — love. Thine armour 
 must be the breastplate of love. No selfish 
 thought will protect thee from the sea of tempta- 
 tion. Fear of sickness may defend thee for an 
 hour ; dread of public opinion may support thee 
 for a day ; but these are swords that soon become 
 blunted. Wouldst thou have an armour against 
 temptation that will keep thee always, every where ? 
 Get the love of some one pure ! Set thy heart 
 upon a high ideal ; paint it in the fairest colours ; 
 deck it with fancy's loveliest gems ! Think of it 
 in the silence ; speak to it in the secrecy ; dream 
 of it in the night ; above all, walk with it in the 
 market-place ! Then — call it by what name thou 
 wilt, it will be Christ to thee. Thou wilt refuse 
 the flowers of evil; thou wilt reject sin's gilded 
 cup; thou wilt decline pride's glittering bauble. 
 Thine abstinence will come from thine aspiration ; 
 thy restraint will flow from the river of thy 
 pleasures; thy sacrifice will be the fruit of thy 
 song. Nothing can crucify the flesh like the joy 
 of the spirit. 
 
 78 
 
THE IMPOTENCE WHICH IS DIVINE 
 
 " He saved others ; himself he cannot save." — Matt, xxvii 
 42. 
 
 There is a great difference between inability 
 and incapacity. Incapacity is the absence of a 
 power; inability may come from the presence of a 
 power. There are two things which may make a 
 man say, '^ I cannot " — too little hfe or too much 
 life. Let us say there is a storm at sea. The 
 ship is in the last stage of dilapidation. The 
 life-boats have been lowered and occupied. So full 
 are they that there is only room for one passenger 
 more; and there are two yet remaining on the 
 vessel. One of these is a paralytic ; like the man 
 at the pool of Bethesda, he has been unfit to push 
 forward ; he cannot save himself. The other man 
 has full strength of limb and could take the leap 
 in a moment ; but he has infinite pity for the 
 paralytic; he feels bound to help him into the 
 boat ; he, too, cannot save himself. Now, what 
 is the difference between these two ? It is not a 
 difterence in the degree of helplessness. Both are 
 
 79 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 equally helpless. The contrast lies in the cause 
 of their helplessness. That of the paralytic comes 
 from a sense of weakness; that of the other comes 
 from the sense of a great strength — human love. 
 The one is unfit to save himself by reason of 
 impotence ; the other is unfit to save himself by 
 reason of power — power driving him in another 
 direction. The motto of the one is, " The flesh is 
 weak;" the motto of the other is the French 
 saying, "Noblesse oblige" — the dignity of my 
 nature makes it impossible for me to do a mean 
 or ignoble thing. 
 
 Son of Man, Thou art never so Divine to me as 
 in the hour of Thine impotence. Not on the Mount 
 of wondrous accents, not on the Lake of wondrous 
 deeds, not in the Desert of wondrous charities, art 
 Thou to me so glorious. All spots even of Thy 
 journey have paled before the hill of Calvary. 
 Hermon has faded; Tabor has grown dim; 
 Gennesaret's waves have lost their music — but the 
 hill of Calvary keeps green. We worship no hour 
 even of Thine like the hour of Thy disrobing. 
 Whither do the tribes of earth go up ? Not to 
 the songs of Bethlehem, not to the voice from 
 heaven, not to the wine of Cana, not to the ruling 
 of the storm, not to Bethsaida's banquet, not to 
 Galilee's gathering, not to Jerusalem's shouts of 
 
 80 
 
The Impotence which is Divine 
 
 joy. They come to the hushed hosannas; they 
 come to the withered palm leaves ; they come to 
 the broken heart. They bring their anthem to 
 Thy blood, their laurel to Thy grave, their spices 
 to Thy burial. What is it that they reverence in 
 Thy setting ? Is it feebleness ? No, it is power — 
 love's power. It is love that makes Thee passive ; 
 it is devotion that makes Thee dumb. Had Thy 
 love been less mighty, Thou couldst have saved 
 Thyself; Thy cross has come from the lustre of 
 Thy crown. Not the lowliness but the love, not the 
 stooping but the strength, not the laying down of 
 life but the Life that laid it down, is the object of 
 our glory. Thou couldst not save Thyself because 
 Thy love was omnipotent. 
 
 8i 
 
THE THING GOD WILL NOT LET DIE 
 
 " I will write on the tables the words that were in the first 
 tables which thou breakest." — Dedt. x. 2. 
 
 How very parsimonious is this promise ! — such 
 is the thought which first suggests itself. " I will 
 write on the tables the words that were in the first 
 tables " ; one is apt to cry, Is that all ! The first 
 tables had been broken ; it was a lost revelation. 
 We should have thought it would have been re- 
 placed, not by a mere repetition, but by something 
 higher. Even if the same song be sung twice by 
 one singer, the second should be better than the 
 first through increased confidence. But why 
 should God be limited to one song ! Is not His 
 voice as the sound of many waters ! Why should 
 He speak the old things, repeat the old words, 
 reveal the old scenes in the kaleidoscope ! Why 
 not press on to a revelation of the future ! Why 
 not open the windows of heaven and let us see 
 through ! Why keep us in the sphere of prosaic 
 precepts which belong to a child's prayer-book ! — 
 " Love God ! " " Love man ! " " Love parents ! " 
 
 82 
 
The Thing God will not Let Die 
 
 " Love neigiibours ! "' ** Love justice, and gentle- 
 ness, and truth, and purity ! " The first tables 
 had the precepts of earth ; ought not the second 
 tables to have had the precepts of heaven ! 
 
 My soul, hast thou considered the reason why 
 it is not so ? There can be no new morality in 
 heaven ; other foundation can no man lay than 
 that which is laid in the first tables. The Ten 
 Commandments are for heaven as much as for 
 earth ; death may break these tables, but eternity 
 will reconstruct them. There will never for thee 
 be another moral law ; go where thou wilt, thou 
 shalt find the old writing. Many things may be 
 new to thee in the silent land. The eye may have 
 colours unseen to-day. The ear may have sounds 
 unheard to-day. The hand may have measure- 
 ments undreamed of to-day. There may be new 
 laws of motion ; to think of a presence may be to 
 fly to it. There may be new laws of health ; 
 disease may be banished by an act of will. There 
 may be new laws of politics ; the faithful servant 
 may be the crowned king. There may be new 
 laws of knowledge ; truth may come without train- 
 ing, and science without school. But there will 
 never be new laws of goodness. Wheresoever 
 thou goest, thou shalt never go beyond the writing 
 on the first tables. There will never come to thee 
 
 83 F 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 a time when righteousness will be other than 
 righteous, puritj^ other than pure, holiness other 
 than holy. The heavens may change, but the 
 heart will abide. Gravity may be suspended, but 
 grace will abide Lights may be extinguished, 
 but love will abide. Not empty shalt thou enter 
 within the vale ; the tables prepared for thee m 
 the wilderness shall meet thee in the house of the 
 Lord. Goodness and mercy shall follow thee, 
 nay, accompany thee — be carried over in thy 
 heart across the flood. Other things may drop 
 from thee in the rush of waters. Vanities will 
 vanish ; pride wiL perish ; selfishness will sink ; 
 enmities will end. But God has set eternity in 
 thy heart, and the things of the heart will cross 
 over. Thy love will leap the flood, thy spirit of 
 sacrifice will bridge the sea. Thy purity shall be 
 transplanted; thy kindness shall be rekindled; 
 thy justice shall be rejuvenated ; thy compassion 
 shall be continued ; thy tenderness shall be trans- 
 lated ; thy charity shall be Elijah's chariot 
 connecting earth with heaven. The writing on 
 thy walls shall appear amid the wreck of Babylon; 
 magnify thine immortahty, O my soul I 
 
 84 
 
THE PHYSICAL SYMPATHY OF THE 
 BIBLE 
 
 • See how mine eyes have been enlightened because I tasted 
 a little of this honey." — i Sam. xiv. 29. 
 
 These are the words of Jonathan — one of the 
 best men the world has ever seen. They were 
 spoken at a time of reHgious revival — one of those 
 seasons when the claims of the soul are apt to be 
 set up in sharp contrast against the claims of the 
 body. The revival in this instance originated 
 with the aristocracy ; it came from the palace. 
 In the high places of the land men were proposing 
 to cultivate the soil of the spirit by letting the 
 body starve. They prescribed a life of self-denial 
 for the sake of self-denial. They suggested that 
 each should practise outward misery with a view 
 to be inwardly better. To this false idea of 
 sacrifice Jonathan was violently opposed. He 
 showed his opposition in a very wise manner. He 
 did not argue. He did not appeal to books or 
 testimonies. He quoted only one experience — 
 
 85 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 his own, "See how mine eyes have been en- 
 Hghtened, because I tasted a httle of this honey." 
 He says in effect, '* I am never so rehgious as 
 when my body is well ; I never see God so clearly 
 as when I am physically comfortable." And I 
 am convinced that Jonathan is right — that in this 
 matter the general voice of the Jew is right. I do 
 not think that prosperity is a proof of the favour 
 of God ; but I do think that when a man is 
 prosperous he is more apt to favour God. It is 
 not purely on secular grounds that we advocate 
 physical philanthropy. Job says, " In my flesh 
 shall I see God." He speaks truly. He did not 
 see God when he was in a state of physical 
 dilapidation ; the words might be applied to him, 
 *' In his humihation his judgment was taken 
 away." He searched every spot of the universe 
 to hear a Divine voice that would counteract the 
 voice of the whirlwind. And yet that voice was 
 at his very door — in the whirlwind itself. Why 
 had he to seek for it so long ? Simply because 
 the flesh was weak. The outer man was down. 
 There was pain in the joints, feebleness in the 
 nerves, saplessness in the marrow — a general 
 debility all over. And because the flesh was 
 defective it failed to convey the message of the 
 spirit ; the telephonic wire was broken, and the 
 
 86 
 
The Physical Sympathy of the Bible 
 
 listener caught not the voice that was speaking 
 through the gloom. 
 
 Lord, I understand now the meaning of that 
 feast where to the famished crowd Thou didst break 
 the bread. I used to think what an opportunity 
 was lost of teaching the multitude. It seemed a 
 waste of time to spend in feasting a day which 
 might have been spent in opening the doors of 
 Thy Kingdom. But I see it all now. I see that 
 the hunger was no place for the homily, that the 
 starving flesji could not catch the heavenly flame. 
 I see that the sustenance had to precede the 
 sermon, that the viands had to come before the 
 vision, that the banquet had to be served ere the 
 beatitude was spoken. I bless Thee, Lord, for 
 that humanity to man. Men would have said, 
 ** The things of the Spirit come first ; convert the 
 people and let them go." But Thy heart saw 
 deeper. It saw that the supper must precede the 
 Sacrament. It refused to send the Life till it had 
 sent the loaves. It would not mock the down- 
 trodden with a tract, the penniless with a prayer, 
 the starving with a psalm ; it sought the raising 
 of the body before the salvation of the soul. Son 
 of Man, I marvel at the depth of Thy manhood. 
 We have looked upon the multitude and said, 
 ** Bring them into the Church " ; Thou hast 
 
 87 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 looked upon the multitude and cried, " Bring 
 them into the banquet-room." We have ex- 
 claimed *' Enlighten the eyes of their under- 
 standing " ; Tlioic hast said, " Before their eyes 
 see heaven, let their lips taste the honey of 
 earth." Make me partaker of Thy humanity, O 
 Lord I 
 
 88 
 
THE ALTRUISM OF THE HEAVENLY 
 LIFE 
 
 ••The Lamb shall lead them." — Rev. vii. 17, 
 
 We speak of a leading aim in life. In this 
 world men have various leading aims. Some are 
 led by ambition, some by pleasure, some by 
 avarice, some by vanity, some by the thirst for 
 knowledge. But the Seer of Patmos says that in 
 the other world the leading aim of life will be 
 different from any of these ; it will be the good of 
 humanity — what we call altruism. *' The Lamb 
 shall lead them." The lamb is the symbol of 
 sacrifice. By the leading of the Lamb I under- 
 stand the Seer to mean the motive power of the 
 sacrificial spirit. He wishes to convey the idea 
 that in the future life of the soul every act of man 
 will be prompted by the desire to help his brother. 
 You will observe, the difference between heaven 
 and earth is not the road but the leading — not 
 the act but the motive. It is not that heaven has 
 other fountains of water than those which are 
 
 89 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 found on earth ; it is that in heaven we are to be 
 led to those fountains by the Lamb — by the 
 motive of sacrificial love. It makes all the 
 difference in the world whether I am led to a 
 fountain by the spirit of selfishness or by the 
 spirit of sacrifice. Wealth is a fountain. Is it 
 pure or impure ? That depends, not on the water, 
 but on what has led me to it. What has been 
 my motive for amassing wealth ? Has it been 
 covetousness, or has it been Christ ? Have I been 
 led by the lust of avarice, or have I been led by 
 the lamb of altruism ? Have I considered only 
 how many sensations it will bring to myself — the 
 rivers of pleasure it will send me, the weight of 
 influence it will lend me, the multitude which, 
 through it, will befriend me ? Or, have I desired 
 it for the good which it can do — for the feeding 
 of the hungry, the clothing of the ragged, the 
 enlightening of the ignorant, the healing of the 
 sick, the beautifying of the temple, the planting 
 of the mission-field, the providing of recreation 
 for the sons of daily toil ? This latter is the 
 *' leading of the Lamb." It matters not though 
 the waters be earthly. It counts not though the 
 streams be secular. It lessens not the value, 
 though the gold be from a human mine. If I 
 gather for earth's gladness, if I spend to soothe 
 
 90 
 
The Altruism of the Heavenly Life 
 
 earth's sadness, if I climb to cleanse earth's 
 badness, I am led to the fountain by the Lamb. 
 
 Lamb of God, prepare me for the fashion of 
 Thy world ! The fashion of our world passeth 
 away. Here, we are led by motives of self- 
 interest — the lust of the flesh and the lust of the 
 eye and the pride of being great. But in Thy 
 world another power shall lead the fashion — Thine 
 own sacrificial life. Prepare me for that world, 
 O Lord ! I should not like to be out of fashion 
 in the sweet by-and-by. I should not like to be 
 living for myself when all mankind are living for 
 others. Save me from the loneliness of a solitary 
 aim — an aim that none shall sympathise with ! 
 Here, I love my wealth because it enhances me. 
 But they who shall be made rulers over ten cities 
 will only prize their wealth for a brother's joy ; 
 the glory of their riches will be its power to 
 minister. I should not like to have the ten cities 
 without their glory, to value my own possessions 
 for the old earthly reason. There would be none 
 to share my estimate. Nobody would gratify my 
 thirst for admiration. Nobody would pause and 
 say, " What magnificent fields ! " Nobody would 
 cry, " There is a man worth knowing ! " They 
 would all be running after the new fashion — the 
 search for impoverishment — " Enter ye into the 
 
 9^ 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 joy of your Lord ! " Be that my joy, O Christ — 
 not only then, but now ! Be that my joy, O 
 Christ — the gladness of having something to give ! 
 Be that the radiance of my riches, the prize of my 
 possessions, the glory of my gold, the shining of 
 my silver, the fragrance of my fields, the greatness 
 of my granaries, the majesty of my many 
 mansions ! Then shall I be in the fashion of the 
 future; I shall be led to my fountains by the 
 Lamb. 
 
 92 
 
THE BREADTH OF CHRISTIANITY 
 
 "An entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly."^ 
 I Peter i. 2. 
 
 Why an entrance " abundantly " ? Are there 
 any degrees between getting in and being shut 
 out ? Yes, many. A man may have a foot in 
 Doth worlds : he may be half in and half out ; no 
 one would call this an "abundant" entrance. Or 
 a man might get through the gate with bruises ; 
 he might enter into the kingdom halt and maim. 
 Or yet agam, a man might be saved " so as by 
 fire " ; he might owe his life to leaving everything 
 behind and beginning the new world as a pauper. 
 All these have one thing in common ; they each 
 imply an entrance into the kingdom with a muti- 
 lated nature. Now, with every kingdom but that 
 of Christ, this is actually the mode of entrance. 
 There is no other instance known to me of "an 
 entrance ministered abundantly." Does the 
 Indian get an abundant entrance ? No ; he gets 
 into the life of God by losing his individuality. 
 Does the Egyptian get an abundant entrance? 
 
 93 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 No ; he is fettered by the spot where his body 
 hes. Does the Greek get an abundant entrance ? 
 No; he gives up his waking for a dream. Does 
 the Mohammedan get an abundant entrance ? 
 No ; there is only room in his paradise for the 
 outer man. Does the Platonist get an abundant 
 entrance ? No ; the inner man alone can enter 
 there ; there is no place for a child's toys. But in 
 Christ's kingdom there is no mutilation. Death 
 has no dominion over it. To reach it we do not 
 even wait for death ; its gate is here. When I 
 enter that gate, I drop nothing ; the whole man 
 goes in — body, soul and spirit, without blemish 
 and without blame. That is what I understand 
 by the words, ''Ye are complete in Him.'' By 
 no other gate shall you enter complete. You are 
 not complete in Plato, complete in Mohammed, 
 complete in Buddha ; you cannot enter their gates 
 with praise, for you come in the poorer. But you 
 are complete in Christ. He is the one Master 
 that mutilates not, the one Master that gives an 
 abundant entrance. He has a mission for every 
 side of your nature — eye and ear, mind and brain, 
 heart and soul. He has the crystal river and the 
 new song and the unsealed mystery and the saintly 
 communion and the endless activity and the cease- 
 less rest and the kingly power and the ministrant 
 
 94 
 
The Breadth of Christianity 
 
 life. For what instinct of my nature has He not 
 prepared a room ! 
 
 Lord, I often speak of my " spiritual concerns." 
 I speak as if a part of me were about to enter Thy 
 kingdom and the other part were to be left behind. 
 When I so think, I forget the abundance of Thine 
 entrance. Teach me that every side of my being 
 is a spiritual concern ! Teach me that every gate 
 may be the gate of entrance into Thy temple — the 
 gate called Beautiful ! Let my wealth be the 
 Beautiful Gate — may I spend for the hungry ! 
 Let my health be the Beautiful Gate — may I work 
 for the toiling ! Let my manner be the Beautiful 
 Gate — may I be gracious to the lowly ! Let my 
 voice be the Beautiful Gate — may I sing for the 
 weary ! Let my learning be the Beautiful Gate 
 — may I grow humbler as I climb ! Let my sight 
 be the Beautiful Gate — in the glow may I see Thy 
 glory ! Let my hearing be the Beautiful Gate — 
 in the wind may I catch Thy whisper ! Let my 
 heart be the Beautiful Gate — in the power of pity 
 may I read Thy purpose ! Let my pain itself be 
 the Beautiful Gate — in sorrow may I trace the 
 secret of human brotherhood! So shall heaven 
 open by a hundred doors. 
 
 95 
 
THE HUMAN HELP TO THE DIVINE 
 
 "Jesus saith unto her, Give me to drink." — John iv. 7. 
 
 There was a man of my acquaintance who 
 had once injured me, and from whom I had 
 therefore been long estranged. Yet he had been 
 Hnked to associations of my past, and I had a 
 great wish to be reconciled. What course was 
 open to me ? Should I write a letter of forgive- 
 ness ? That would be a form of accusation. 
 Should I do him a favour ? That would be coals 
 of fire, and coals of fire are not agreeable to the 
 recipient. I decided upon an opposite method. 
 Instead of doing a favour to him, I would ask 
 him to confer a favour on me. I did ; he granted 
 it, and resumed the friendship. And in that hour 
 I understood for the first time the deep significance 
 of the narrative of Samaria. Here is a woman 
 whose life has been very bad ; her spirit is in a 
 state of enmity to Christ. Christ wishes to draw 
 her heart into sympathy with His own. How 
 shall He do so ? He has all possible gifts at His 
 command ; shall He load her with His benefits ? 
 
 96 
 
The Human Help to the Divine 
 
 No. This woman is already in a state of spiritual 
 pauperism. She has lost the sense of her own 
 dignity, and benefits would perpetuate that loss. 
 Christ feels that His favours would simply make 
 her sore, accentuate her alienation, increase her 
 dislike to holiness. Accordingly He who knew 
 what was in man says : " Instead of helping her, 
 I will let her help me ; I will let her first sense 
 of grace be a sense of rising dignity — a relaxation 
 of the humiliating chain." He who came to 
 minister asks this woman to minister to Him. 
 He asks a drink of water. It was a very small 
 boon ; but the treasure lay in the asking, not the 
 getting. The woman was uplifted in a moment. 
 She would have crouched if she had been offered 
 something ; but to be asked for something — that 
 was grand ! That a poor creature like her should 
 give a subscription to the Church Universal, that 
 one of Christ's paupers should be requested to 
 join a committee for the building of His Temple 
 — this was exhilarating, this was reconciling, this 
 made life again worth living ! It was something 
 to have answered a prayer of Jesus ! 
 
 Lord, I often thank Thee that Thou hast heard 
 my prayers ; do I ever bless Thee that I have 
 heard Thine ! For indeed by day and night 
 Thou prayest to me. I often speak of being 
 
 97 G 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 awakened to spiritual life. What is it that has 
 awakened me from sleep ? Is it my prayers ? 
 No, Lord, it is Thine ; I have heard a knocking 
 at the door, and my slumber has been broken. 
 It is Thy want which has broken my slumber — 
 not mine. It is not I that have knocked at the 
 door of heaven ; it is Thou that has knocked at 
 the door of earth. I am the child of Thy prayers 
 — not my own. Samaritan as I am, sinner as I 
 am, Thou hast asked drink of me. I am glad 
 that Thou hast asked drink of me. I am glad 
 that Thou hast allowed me to begin by giving, 
 not receiving. To a heart crushed with sin, to a 
 heart that has done nothing for Thee, Thy 
 benefits are a load ; they bring more weight than 
 wing. But to benefit Thee — that is an w^doading 
 of my soul. To be waited on by Thee is the life 
 of the invalid ; but to wait on Thee is to renew 
 my strength, to mount up on wings as eagles. 
 There is no fragrance like that of my alabaster 
 box — the box I break for Thee. There is no 
 radiance like that of Bethlehem's gold — the gold 
 I bring to Thee. There is no freshness like that 
 of Samaria's water— the water I pour for Thee. 
 I thank Thee, O Lord, that Thou hast asked 
 something which is mine. 
 
 98 
 
THE LAND WITH A GOLDEN 
 TWILIGHT 
 
 •* At evening time there shall be light." — Zech. xiv. 7, 
 
 This is a promise made to the nation ; and as 
 such it is unique in history. I do not mean that 
 no nation but the Jew has ever predicted the glory 
 of its advanced years. I knov^ of none that has 
 not ; every people glorifies its own future. But the 
 peculiarity of this promise is, not that it glorifies 
 the future, but that it glorifies the evening. The 
 evening of a nation is its decline — the time when 
 it has lost its political influence and its military 
 prestige. To say that a nation shall have light at 
 evening time is to say that it will be a power in its 
 decrepit days, that in the period of its old age it 
 will exercise the influence of the morning. That 
 is the promise given to Judah, and it is unique. 
 But there is something besides which is unique and 
 whose uniqueness is more remarkable. This 
 promise has been fulfilled. There may be dis- 
 putes about other prophecies. There may be 
 controversies about the interpretation of other 
 
 99 G 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 predictions. There may be difference of opinion as 
 to whether a presaged glory refers to a Hezekiah 
 or a Christ. But this is a prophecy which is being 
 fulfilled before our eyes. We see one among the 
 peoples of the world whose light has come only at 
 evening time — in the hour of its decay. Judah 
 has indeed reached her evening shadows. She 
 has hung her harp upon the willows. She has lost 
 her local habitation. She has been driven from 
 her rites of worship. She has been expelled from 
 her temple. She has been robbed of her prophet, 
 her priest and her king. She has been sent to 
 sojourn in every land, and in none has she found 
 a home. Yet, in her darkness she is giving light 
 to the world. Never did she give such light as 
 now. Not when David sat upon her throne, not 
 when Solomon swayed her sceptre, not when seer 
 and psalmist sang her glories, did she give such 
 light as now. From the ruins of her battered 
 tower she rules all nations. From a ledge of her 
 broken wall she gives law to the world. From the 
 places of her exile she dictates to modern civilisa- 
 tion. From the scene of her blindness she 
 illuminates the kingdoms by a torch she cannot 
 see. At her evening time there has been light. 
 
 Lord, these ancient people of Thine have seen 
 their evening, but not their light. They are 
 loo 
 
The Land with a Golden Twilight 
 
 dreaming still of a future glory — of a universal 
 empire, of a kingdom which shall enfold all man- 
 kind. It never strikes them that the kingdom has 
 come already. They deem themselves to be in 
 bondage to the Gentiles ; they wot not that the 
 Gentiles are even now their subjects. They say, 
 " We shall one day give a King to the world ; '* 
 and lo, their King is already here — seated on His 
 Throne, ruling from sea to sea ! Show them, O 
 Lord, their " light at evening time " ! Reveal to 
 them the radiance of their ruins, the empire of 
 their evening sky ! Teach them that the majesty 
 of the Gentiles is the majesty of their Messiah ! 
 Tell them that our gardens are glorified by 
 their flowers, our houses heated by their 
 fires, our fields fructified by their corn ! Tell 
 them that we are living by their labour, fed by 
 their fulness, braced by their breezes, enriched 
 by their rivers, freshened by their fountains, 
 strengthened by their struggles, inspired by the 
 spirit of their life ! Tell them that their King 
 has come, that their fancy is fulfilled, that their 
 empire is established, that their conquest is com- 
 plete, that their mission is manifested, that their 
 progress is perfected, that their world is won ! Let 
 them see their glory in the evening light ! 
 
 TCI 
 
THE BROAD WAY OF GOD 
 
 "Thine eyes shall behold a far-stretching land." — Isa. xxxiii. 
 17 (R.V.). 
 
 The promise contained in these words is a 
 promise that the later religious life shall have 
 an expanded view. This is not our common 
 opinion of the religious life. The popular notion 
 is that the outlook should be widest at the 
 beginning, and should contract with advancing 
 years. The vision of religious breadth ii sup- 
 posed to belong to the young. But it is a great 
 mistake. Youth is the time for emphasizing 
 differences. It admits of no compromise. What- 
 ever cause it takes up, it takes up sharply and 
 antithetically. When it takes up Christ it puts 
 Him on an island — with a sea between Him and 
 all things. It delights to think how narrow its 
 land is, how separate from all other lands. It 
 finds its glory in the dividing-line between Christ 
 and the world. It says : *' The dance is incom- 
 patible with devotion, the evening party incon- 
 gruous with earnest piety." It bids the seeker 
 102 
 
The Broad Way of God 
 
 of Canaan abstain from the feast of Cana, the 
 worshipper at Bethlehem recoil from the supper 
 at Bethany; when it hears music in the Father's 
 house it will not go in. But the advanced 
 Christian feels very differently. He says, with 
 the Seer of Patmos, " There shall be no more 
 sea." The waters that encompass the island are 
 dried up, and he beholds everywhere a far-stretch- 
 ing land. The Christian road has become an all- 
 embracing road ; it claims for Christ the spots it 
 once repudiated. It plants the cross in the middle 
 of the highway. We no longer say, ** Six days for 
 the world and one for God." The Sabbath has 
 ceased to be an island. It has become connected 
 with the mainland ; it has given its character to 
 the mainland. Instead of one day of rest, we 
 would have rest in all the days. We would work 
 by the Sabbath rest — the spirit of peace within. 
 Between the Church and the market-place there 
 is no more sea. There is an altar possible at the 
 receipt of custom, an opportunity for sacrifice at 
 the exchange, a chance for self-surrender at the 
 counting-house, a sphere for Divine service in the 
 haunts of commerce. In the completed life of 
 Christ Heaven and earth are one far-stretching 
 land. 
 
 Lord, hasten that happ} time when between my 
 103 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 duties on Sunday and my duties on Monday there 
 shall be no more sea ! Give me an expanded view 
 of what it is to be religious ! Show me how far- 
 stretching it is, how many things are included in 
 it ! Teach me that the road to Emmaus is broad 
 enough to hold many travellers! The fu.ther I 
 journey on that road, let me learn more how vast 
 it is ! Make my afternoon more charitable than 
 my morning ! Let me see how those can stand 
 on Thy road that dared not stand on mine ! Let 
 me see into what unlikely quarter stretches Thy 
 street of gold ! Let me see there the leper that I 
 loathed, the demoniac that I despised, the sceptic 
 that I scorned, the fallen that I flouted ! Let me 
 see the child in spirituality whom I deemed unfit 
 for my arena taken into Thine arms, the man who 
 would not take Thy name accepted for Thy nature, 
 the woman who had no creed chosen for a cry ! 
 The midday shall be more glorious than the morn- 
 ing, if only it reveals how far-stretching is Thy 
 land. 
 
 104 
 
AN IDEAL YOUNG MAN 
 
 "I have seen a son of Jesse the Beth.lehemite, that is cunning 
 in playing, and a mighty valiant man, and a man of war, and 
 prudent in matters, and a comely person, and the Lord is with 
 him." — I Sam. xvi. i8. 
 
 What a magnificent assemblage of qualities ! 
 What element is omitted that can secure success ! 
 Here is personal attractiveness, "a comely per- 
 son." Here is business-like sagacity, ''prudent 
 in matters." Here is athletic vigour, " a valiant 
 man of war." Here is social accomplishment, 
 ** cunning in playing." Here, finally, is the spirit 
 of religion, " the Lord is with him." The young 
 man thus described is David. He is dowered 
 from every direction — by nature, by art, by 
 experience, by heaven. And yet, after all, the 
 remarkable thing is not the number, nor even the 
 variety of these qualities. What strikes me most 
 is their seeming oppositeness. They are not the 
 qualities which we should expect to find united. 
 Personal attractiveness often interferes with 
 prudence ; we say, in common speech, that such 
 a man gets his head turned. Devotion to art 
 105 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 naturally detracts from muscular vigour ; the man 
 of the study is not apt to be the man of war. 
 Finally, such a blaze of human glory often obscures 
 for a time the other world and holds a veil over 
 the face of God. Is there anything that can unite 
 these qualities, that can make them act in har- 
 mony ? Yes, there is one thing which can ; it is 
 love. Love can join all these varieties. Love 
 can make comely ; it can kindle even a plain face 
 into glory. Love can make strong ; it can put 
 valour in the heart and power in the sinew. 
 Love can make prudent ; the wisdom of the 
 serpent may lie in the harmlessness of the dove. 
 Love can make artistic ; it is itself the very essence 
 of beauty, the very soul of loveliness. And love 
 can make religious ; its thirst for the beautiful is 
 not gratified below ; its artistic eye seeks a better 
 country. In love all fulness dwells. 
 
 Strong Son of God, Immortal Love, descend in 
 Thy fulness upon the spirit of youth ! Bring into 
 the heart of our young men that union of qualities 
 which, in Thine absence, are opposed ! Give 
 them the valour of the soldier — the strength that 
 will not stoop to wrong ! Give them the 
 suavity of the courtier — the gentleness of manner 
 which is ever comely ! Give them a sense of 
 beauty — a taste for all that is fair in literature and 
 To6 
 
An Ideal Young Man 
 
 art, that life may to them reveal its romantic joy ! 
 Give them that with which a romantic joy is often 
 incompatible — the spirit of prudence, a power of 
 far-seeing, a judgment calm and clear ! Give them, 
 above all, a pious soul — a reverence for what is 
 righteous, a hope for what is holy, a trust in what 
 is true ! Forbid that they should associate Thy 
 religion with unmanliness ! Forbid that they 
 should say, " It is unheroic to ask help from 
 heaven " ! Teach them that Thy help makes 
 heroes ! Teach them that the leader of men is 
 the leaner on Thee ! Teach them that there is 
 none so brave as he who lies on Thy breast, none 
 so wise as he who bends to Thy will, none so 
 courteous as he who has sunk self at Thy cross ! 
 Light them by the love of Thee ! Thy love alone 
 gives an all-round manhood. It has the courage 
 for Calvary, the wisdom for temptation's wilder- 
 ness, the manner for the marriage feast, the 
 fervour for the fields of beauty. It is grave 
 without gloom, free without frivolity, prudent 
 without prudishness, pious without pretension, 
 calm without coldness, winsome without weakness, 
 trusty without truculence, winged with radiance 
 and yet weighted with responsibility. Be ours 
 Thy spirit of manhood, O Lord ! 
 
 107 
 
THE WELLS AND THE POOLS 
 
 " Who passing through the valley of Baca make it a well ; 
 the rain also filleth the pools."— Psa. lxxxiv. 6. 
 
 When a man is in the valley of tribulation he 
 may have consolation from two sources. He may 
 get it by activity, or he may get it by lying passive. 
 He may get a supply of water from a well which 
 his own hands have digged, or he may get that 
 supply from the pools which the rain has filled. 
 In the case of digging the well I work for my 
 consolation, in the filling of the pool by the rain 
 my consolation works for me; I have power to dig a 
 well, but the filling of the pool with rain \s Nature's 
 deed — God's deed. Have you not experience of 
 these two consolations ? Sometimes you get water 
 by your own digging — comfort by your own effort ; 
 when a treasure is taken away, you think of the 
 gold still left to you. But there are other times 
 in which your comfort comes, not from the wells of 
 earth, but from the rains of heaven. And these, I 
 think, are the most frequent moments. I am not good 
 at digging wells when I am in the valley of Baca ; 
 1 08 
 
The Wells and the Pools 
 
 the heavy heart makes a weak hand. In my 
 prosperous hours I use the wells more than the 
 pools. But in my hour of adversity I am chiefly 
 dependent on the pools. My digging power is 
 small ; I find it hard to brace myself by the 
 remembrance of remaining mercies. If I had no 
 resource but the digging of wells, I think I should 
 die ; the explanation of my continued life is the 
 fact that " the rain, also, filleth the pools." 
 
 I bless Thee, O Lord, for these waters sent 
 from heaven ! I bless Thee for the strength that 
 comes to me without my effort ! Often has it 
 come to me just when I had given up the digging — 
 just when I had thrown away the spade in despair. 
 When all my human doors have closed, an 
 invisible door has opened, and there has come to 
 me an incomprehensible strength, an unaccountable 
 calm, an inexplicable peace. The water denied to 
 the wells has appeared in the pools, and I am 
 refreshed from above. In vain I ask the earth for 
 the cause of my refreshment. There is nothing 
 at my feet to explain it. The valley of Baca is a 
 valley still. The ground is dusty and dry ; my 
 hands are too feeble to dig a well below. But 
 when I look up it is all accounted for ; Thy rain 
 filleth the pools. Elijah was fed by ravens, but 
 that was a small miracle ! / have been fed by 
 log 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 jjiee — directly, without a medium ! The wells 
 have been superseded by the pools. What the earth 
 could not send up, Thy heaven has poured down. 
 What the ground could not give, Thy grace has 
 yielded. What human effort could not buy, Thy 
 Divine love has granted free. My strength in 
 the lowly valley has come from Thine upper air. 
 I have not been left to the weariness of waiting 
 for the well ; Thy rain has also filled my pools! 
 
 no 
 
THE DANGER OF TRIFLING THINGS 
 
 " Turn ye not aside, for then should ye go after vain things.'* 
 — I Sam. XII. 21. 
 
 There is a strange sense of anti-climax in 
 these words. Samuel tells the people not to turn 
 aside from God. This advice is very natural. 
 But the reason on which he bases it is rather 
 startling. He says that if men deviate from God 
 they will '* go after vain things." It seems a most 
 lame and impotent conclusion. Why does he fear 
 emptiness so much ? The departure from God is 
 ever to be deplored ; but surely it is not to be 
 most deplored when it makes men shallow, 
 frivolous, vacant-minded ! Are not these simple 
 things, harmless things, innocent things — things 
 to which we attribute the word " silly " rather than 
 ** sinful " ? Yet I think the prophet is right. Who 
 is the man furthest away from God — in other 
 words, who is the man whom it would take 
 longest to bring home ? Is it he who has been 
 led astray by passion ? Is it he who has fallen 
 into enmity ? Is it he who has outraged his 
 III 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 conscience by a deed of evil ? Not so ; all these 
 have come back within a few days. Magdalene 
 has turned her own passion into the Lord's 
 Passion ; Saul has changed his fire of enmity 
 into a fire of love ; Peter has made his conscious 
 guilt his consciousness of glory — all these have 
 come home. But the great difficulty is to bring 
 back the unthoughtful — the men taken up with 
 the breadth of their phylacteries and the enlarging 
 of their garments. Simon the Pharisee is farther 
 off than Magdalene, for he is more vacant. What 
 is the extreme opposite of the calm sea ? Is it 
 the stormy sea ? No ; any moment the storm may 
 become a calm. The extreme opposite of the 
 calm sea is the stagnant pool. Why so ? Because 
 it lacks something which is possessed both by the 
 sea in its calm and the sea in its roughness — life. 
 There is no deterrent from God like the worship 
 of trifles, because that is an idolatry unaccom- 
 panied by a sense of sin. Trifles do not trouble 
 the conscience ; and, where the pool of conscience 
 is untroubled, Bethesda has no healing spring. 
 
 Lord, save me from lifting up my soul unto 
 vanity ! There is a pride which brings its own 
 fall. When I aim at impossible things I am 
 taught my presumption by stern experience. But 
 when I aim at things beneath me, I never learn 
 
 112 
 
The Danger of Trifling Things 
 
 my need ; my pride gets no fall. The lowness of 
 my aim lulls me into a false rest. I lose my 
 longings ; I crush my cravings ; I drop my desire 
 for higher things. I mistake my passiveness for 
 peace, my deadness for decorum, my lethargy for 
 life. If I aspired to a Tower of Babel, my failure 
 would confound me and perhaps redeem me ; but 
 I am satisfied with a house upon the sand, and 
 my soul is unconvicted of sin. When Thou 
 passest through my Galilee, I do not come to 
 Thee. Greater sinners come — Zacchgeus comes, 
 Mary comes — but not I. Why is this, O Lord? 
 It is because my infinite selfishness lies in so 
 small a vessel. I have done no harm as Zacchaeus 
 has, as Mary has ; it seems a small thing that I 
 have done no good. I have placed my treasure in 
 a trifle, and the trifle veils Thee from me. Rend 
 that veil, O Lord 1 Show me the virulence of the 
 poison in the tiny box ! Break the box ! Trample 
 on the trifles ! Cause the vain things to evaporate! 
 Banish the baubles that keep me from school ! 
 Take away the toys thai divert me from thought ! 
 Put aside the playthings that tempt me from 
 reflection ! Teach me to know my need of Thee ! 
 
 "3 
 
THE RELIGIOUS STAGE BELOW 
 PRAYER 
 
 •• I have looked upon My people, because their cry is come 
 unto Me."— I Sam. ix. i6. 
 
 We often speak of God as the hearer and 
 
 answerer of prayer. The Bible goes much further 
 
 than that ; it says He is the hearer and answerer 
 
 of the cry. You will distinguish between a prayer 
 
 and a cry; they are not the same thing. A prayer 
 
 takes definite aim ; a cry is a random shot. A 
 
 prayer is the expression of a particular need; a 
 
 cry may be the voice of a want unknown to him 
 
 who utters it. A prayer is addressed direct to the 
 
 ear of the Almighty ; a cry may be addressed to 
 
 no one, but may simply cleave the air. That God 
 
 should answer my prayer is a very endearing 
 
 thought ; but it is more endearing still that He 
 
 should answer my cry. There is a certain amount 
 
 of Jwmage in a prayer; there may be none in a cry. 
 
 A cry may be purely secular. The cry spoken of 
 
 in the passage was so. It was wrung out by a 
 
 worldly sorrow. It was not so much prompted by 
 
 longing for the future as by dissatisfaction with 
 
 114 
 
The Religious Stage below Prayer 
 
 the present ; the people groaned because they were 
 weary of the Philistines. Yet God says, "Their 
 cry is come unto Me." A very striking expression ! 
 I understand it to mean that the cry reached Him 
 though it was not sent to Him ; the value of a 
 prayer was imputed to an expression of mere 
 worldly want — to something which had " no 
 language but a cry." And what was true of 
 ancient Israel is true of modern England. For 
 every single prayer that God hears He hears a 
 hundred cries. Many who utter them would be 
 called men and women of the world ; yet God 
 accepts their cry as a protest against the world. 
 It is something to be weary of the Philistines ! It 
 is something to be unfilled with the swine-husks ! 
 It is something to feel that, when life has loaded 
 me with luxuries, there is a great void left behind ! 
 That void is to my Father equal to a voice of 
 prayer. The message has no address, but it comes 
 to Him. 
 
 Lord, there was a time when men said of me, 
 *' He is not a man of prayer." They said, " He 
 never lifts his voice to the Father of spirits ; he is 
 steeped in the cares of the world." They were 
 wrong. They forgot that the cares of the world 
 are cries, and that cries reach Thee as well as 
 prayers. If I were at home in the world, I should 
 115 H 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 have no care in the midst of its pleasures ; they 
 would fill me. But it is just in the midst of its 
 pleasures that I have the deepest want. I never 
 long so much for the wings of a dove as at the top 
 of the earthly hill. It is then that my cry comes. 
 Doubtless it is no prayer. It is not aspiration ; it 
 is only disappointed retrospect. But the dis- 
 appointment makes it music in Thine ear. It tells 
 Thee that I am too big for my toys. Thou hearest 
 as yet no request; I ask Thee for nothing; I have 
 not even called on Thee by name. But I have 
 called on Thee by need. We speak of Thee as the 
 hearer; Thou art more — Thou art the overhearer. 
 Thou understandest my thought afar off — afar off 
 even from myself. Ere I can speak a word Thou 
 hast overheard my cry. Thou hast not waited for 
 my asking, for my power to ask. Thou hast read 
 in my groan more than I could say. Thou hast 
 come, not to my voice, but to my void. Before I 
 have learned to bless Thee, Thou hast seen my 
 blank without Thee. Thou hast rated me above 
 my present worth. Thou hast interpreted my cry 
 as a creed, my sigh as a sympathy, my want as a 
 wish, my poverty as a prayer, my discontent as a 
 devotion, my lament as an accent of love. I praise 
 Thee, O Lord, that Thou hast overheard the 
 complainings which were not sent to Thee. 
 ii6 
 
THE DIVINE IDEAL OF DOMINION 
 
 " The Lord's portion is His people; Jacob is the lot of His 
 inheritance."— Deut. xxxii. 9. 
 
 There is no possession of which a high nature 
 feels so proud as the possession of a human eouL 
 An inferior nature values above all things the 
 ownership of houses and lands. But to a spiritua 
 mind the greatest inheritance in the world is the 
 mastery over another's spirit — specially over 
 another's heart. We often use the expression, 
 ** My own one, my own dearest." At these 
 moments we feel the sense of possession to be a 
 peculiar luxury. We would not resign this par- 
 ticular kind of mastery for all the wealth of India 
 and all the land of Canada. The sense of posses- 
 sion which says to a human soul, " My own ! " is 
 the climax of conscious power. Now, that is 
 what I take the passage before us to mean. " The 
 Lord's portion is His people''' — not the mastery 
 over stars and systems, not the control of storms 
 and hurricanes, not the command of forces and 
 thunderbolts, but the empire over human hearts ; 
 117 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 this is the triumph of heaven, this is the power of 
 God. Nor has the passage yet exhausted itself. 
 If what God wants to possess is a human soul, 
 what He wants most is a soul of the type of Jacob, 
 ** Jacob is the lot of His inheritance." Is not that 
 a strange desire 1 Why such a type as Jacob ! 
 Why not Abraham or Isaac or Joseph ! These 
 were steadfast, unwavering men, never halting in 
 the march, never weary on the way. But Jacob 
 was a lame foot, ever stopping, ever sliding. Was 
 he not a poor creature at the best — one of the 
 waifs and strays that sleep on Bethel stairs, one of 
 the flickering lights that struggle with the wind ? 
 Yes, and therefore he was worth conquering, 
 worth possessing. Have you not read, " There is 
 more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth 
 than over ninety and nine which went not astray " ? 
 God's most precious inheritance is the sheep that 
 wandered. To hold a fugitive heart, to master a 
 wayward mind, to fix a changing fancy, to dom- 
 inate a contrary desire, to captivate an escaping 
 conscience, to win a stubborn will, to prostrate an 
 ignoble passion, to soften a prodigal son — that is 
 the inheritance in Jacob, that is the joy of the 
 Lord ! 
 
 Lord, let me gather for Thee these sons of 
 Jacob ! Let me gather for Thee these unlikely 
 ii8 
 
The Divine Ideal of Dominion 
 
 lives which seem impossible to mould ! Let me 
 gather them from the houseless and the homeless ! 
 Let me pick them up from life's Bethel stairs, from 
 the pillars of stone to which sin has consigned 
 them ! Let me raise them from the bed of clay 
 where an elder brother's wrath has laid them! 
 Let me inspire their night with a dream — a dream 
 of coming glory ! Let me show them that a 
 ladder may rise from the very stones of their 
 humiliation ! Let me show them that the 
 pillows on which they lie may to-morrow be the 
 steps of Thine altar! Let me tell them that, 
 though they know not Thy name, Thou art 
 wrestling with them every day ! Let me teach 
 them that Thy blessing precedes the daybreak, 
 that Thy love is earlier than their light, that the 
 striving of Thy Spirit waits not for their morning 
 sunshine ! Let me bring to them the tidings that 
 Thou hast sought them before the dawn, greeted 
 them ere the sunbeam smiled, struggled for them 
 without a streak of day ! So shall they learn that 
 Thou art the God of Jacob. 
 
 119 
 
THE SECRET OF ISRAEL'S 
 GREATNESS 
 
 "Behold, I have taught you statutes and judgments; keep 
 therefore and do them ; for this is your wisdom and your 
 understanding in the sight of the nations." — Deut. iv. 5, 6. 
 
 I TAKE the idea to be that the greatness of the 
 people of Israel was a moral greatness : *' This is 
 your wisdom in the sight of the nations." God 
 has given to each nation a different kind of 
 wisdom. He has given to China the spirit of 
 order, to India the spirit of devotion, to Persia 
 the spirit of religious struggle, to Egypt the spirit 
 of reverence, to Greece the spirit of beauty, to 
 Rome the spirit of empire. But Israel's one lamp 
 is the love of righteousness. I do not think she 
 has any love so strong as that. She has not 
 arranged her household like China ; her twelve 
 tribes are scattered to the winds. She has no 
 mystic moments like India ; she seeks the things 
 of common day. She has no religious doubts like 
 Persia ; her faith is a child's faith. She has no 
 sense of eternity like Egypt ; enough for her is 
 120 
 
The Secret of Israel's Greatness 
 
 the earthly promised land. She has no secular 
 arts like Greece ; she keeps her poetry and her 
 music for the ear of God alone. She has no dream 
 of personal conquest like Rome ; if she seeks an 
 empire, it is for Messiah. But, in one thing she 
 is alone among the nations — her cry for earthly 
 goodness. It is earthly goodness. She is not 
 anxious how she will appear before the great white 
 throne; she never speaks of that; she leaves 
 that to Egypt. For her the question is. How 
 shall I equip myself below ? — shall I honour my 
 father ? shall I help my brother ? shall I serve 
 my neighbour ? shall I comfort my friend ? 
 shall I be just in the exchange ? shall I be 
 fair in the market-place ? shall I be true in 
 the witness-box ? shall I be pure at the family 
 altar ? These are homely questions, yea, they 
 are problems of the home ; but they are hers 
 — hers alone, hers distinctly, hers by nature 
 and birthright ; this is her wisdom among the 
 nations. 
 
 I thank Thee, O Lord, that amid the notes of 
 the nations Thou hast prepared a place for 
 " Home, sweet home." I thank Thee that in the 
 great orchestra which sings Thy manifold beauty 
 there is a place for the minor chords — the chords 
 that vibrate to the dusty day. India has soared 
 
 121 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 for Thee, Persia has fought for Thee, Egypt has 
 dreamed for Thee, Greece has dressed for Thee ; 
 but is there to be none to walk for Thee ? Among 
 all the voices of the nations, is there to be none 
 that shall say, " Lo, I come, I delight to do Thy 
 will " ? I thank Thee that there is one. I bless 
 Thee that amid the sweet singers of this world 
 there is one that sings in the street — sings the 
 common song of duty. I praise Thee that among 
 the birds of morning there is one which carols on 
 the ground — warbles where men walk, trills where 
 men toil, sings where men struggle with the hour. 
 Thou hast given to Greece her music for the 
 grove, and to Rome her music for the battle, and 
 to Egypt her music for the funeral march of time. 
 But I am glad that Thou hast added one strain 
 more — a strain for the humble. I am glad that 
 to one land Thou hast given the simple song, '' Be 
 just, be good, be true ! " I am glad Thou hast a 
 music for the market-place, a chord for the com- 
 mon-place, a warbling for the worker, a pgean for 
 the prosaic, a hymn for household burdens, a song 
 for domestic service, a light for manual labour, a 
 stream for the sultry way. Such has been the 
 mission of Thy people Israel. 
 
 122 
 
GOD'S ARGUMENT AGAINST 
 ASCETICISM 
 
 •• I will not henceforth drive out any from before them of the 
 nations which Joshua left when he died, that through them I 
 may prove Israel." — Judges ii. 21, 22. 
 
 " I WILL not henceforth " — after this time. Up 
 to this time God had made life easy for His 
 people. He had lightened the force of their 
 temptations by isolating them from bad company 
 — by driving out the idolatrous tribes which used 
 to inhabit the land. But now God says, '* I will 
 make a change ; I will let the bad company 
 remain." The spectator would have said, "This 
 shows there is no Providence in history ; if there 
 were, would God allow the tares to corrupt the 
 wheat ? " But God Himself claims the seeming 
 blot as a bit of the handwriting. He says that it 
 is just for the sake of His people He lets the bad 
 company remain, " that through them I may 
 prove Israel." And have we not here a lesson for 
 all time ? We all feel that the temptations of 
 individual life grow deeper as the years roll. A 
 123 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 child has few temptations ; it has too Httle sense 
 of the value of things to be tempted by them. 
 Childhood is the age of Joshua ; it is sheltered 
 from its foes. But as life opens, temptation comes. 
 Youth's paradise has forbidden trees which are 
 nevertheless revealed trees. The child may hide 
 himself among the leaves of the garden ; the 
 young man dare not. Would you have it other- 
 wise! Is there any father who does not wish to 
 prove his son ! Do you think a single Christian 
 virtue could exist if the bad nations were expelled ! 
 Could there be faith without a cloud, patience 
 without a delay, hope without a fear, strength 
 without a struggle ! The flowers of God are ripened 
 by the frost. Charity comes in the chill ; pity is 
 born of pain; sympathy is woven by sorrow; 
 courage is bred by conflict ; love is revealed by the 
 threat of loss. Grace, too, is a flower of the battle- 
 field. God has prepared for His people not a 
 desert, but a city. He would not be loved without 
 rivals. He would not have you come to Him just 
 because there is no other. He would be the chief 
 among ten thousand. He would be the conqueror 
 amid conflicting claims. He would be the chosen 
 out of the million, the one attraction amid many 
 meetings. That is why He drives not out the 
 temptations of the soul. 
 
 124 
 
God's Argument against Asceticism 
 
 Not in the desert would I serve Thee, O my 
 God. I would not come to Thee simply because 
 I have lost my world, because Thou hast driven 
 out the old nations. I should like to give Thee a 
 better proof of my love than that. Even human 
 love has sighed to prove itself. It has longed for 
 the presence of danger that it may reveal its power 
 of sacrifice. Shall my love for Thee be less strong, 
 O my Father ! Shall all my thirst for chivalry be 
 kept for earthly beings ! Is there to be no more 
 amongst us the spirit of that man who cried, 
 " Lord, if it be Thou, bid me that I come to Thee 
 on the waters " ! Shall not my love for Thee, like 
 Peter's, wish to show itself! Shall it have no 
 romance in it — no longing to dare something, to 
 brave something, to sacrifice something ! Has not 
 romantic youth dreamed of how it will plunge into 
 the water to serve the object of its love ! And 
 shall I have no such dream of serving T/iee ! Shall 
 the desert be dear because it is not dangerous ! 
 Shall the solitude be sweet because it is not 
 sacrificial ! Shall the hermitage be holy because 
 it has no hard hours ! Nay, my Father, give me 
 scope for my love ! Bid me that I come to Thee 
 on the waters ! Let me cherish the dream that 
 youth delights in — the dream of devotion in 
 danger ! Let me seek Thee in the storm ; let me 
 125 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 wait Thee on the wave ; let me find Thee 'mid the 
 fires ; let me bless Thee in the battle ; let me praise 
 Thee in Thy peril; let me help Thee in Thy 
 heaviness ; let me join Thee at Jerusalem ; let me 
 crown Thee in front of Thy cross ! Drive not out 
 the nations from before me 
 
 126 
 
GOD'S FAITHFULNESS IN THE CLOUD 
 
 " The children of Israel asked counsel of the Lord, saying, 
 Shall I go up against the children of Benjamin, my brother ? 
 And the Lord said. Go up against him. And Benjamin 
 destroyed of the children of Israel eighteen thousand men." — 
 Judges xx. 23, 25. 
 
 This is one of the most singular statements I 
 have met with in the whole course of the Bible. 
 The people of Israel are exercised as to whether 
 they shall go up to battle. They ask counsel of 
 God. They ask it honestly, reverently. They 
 pour out their hearts in prayer for a revelation o 
 God's will. The answer comes, Go ! Joyous at 
 the Divine approval, they march to meet the foe ; 
 they are defeated. We can imagine their recrimina- 
 tions against God and religion. We are tempted 
 to join in these recriminations. Is this the value 
 of prayer ! we say. Here is a band of pious men 
 who have asked, Shall we go ? and received the 
 answer. Yes. And yet these men have not been 
 successful ; they have lost the day. Methinks the 
 sorest part of that loss would be the seeming 
 failure of their God. To be defeated in an enter- 
 127 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 prise is a misfortune ; but to be defeated after God 
 has blessed me, to be defeated after God has 
 bidden me go, to be defeated when I am only 
 following the will of my Father — that seems more 
 than a misfortune ; it appears a wrong. But look 
 again. Is every call from God a call to material 
 success ? Is there no such thing as a call to failure ? 
 What is that which God wants to perfect in us ? 
 Is it the sense of possession ? No, it is the sense 
 of sympathy. And how is sympathy made perfect ? 
 Is it by the number of my victories ? Nay, it is 
 by the number of my defeats. It is not my 
 gains but my losses that make me human. The 
 disciples on the Mount had both a triumph and a 
 defeat ; the triumph was the vision of glory, the 
 defeat was the cloud which overshadowed it. Yet 
 the cloud did more for them than the vision. The 
 vision made them cold to their brother man ; they 
 wanted to live in mountain tabernacles above the 
 stream of toil. But the cloud sent them down to 
 the demoniac at the foot of the hill — down to the 
 wail of the \^ eaiy, down to the sigh of the sad. It 
 tuned them into tenderness ; it strung them into 
 sympathy ; it touched their chords with the echoes 
 of human care. The glory would have stranded 
 them ; God made the cloud their chariot. 
 
 O my Father, Thy promise is not broken by thej 
 128 
 
God's Faithfulness in the Cloud 
 
 blast. Often have I marvelled at the seeming 
 failure of that promise. I have heard Thee say to 
 Abraham in the watches of the night, ** I will 
 make of thee a great nation"; and when the 
 morning came I have seen him in the fires of 
 Mount Moriah. Yet these fires were to him Thy 
 promise fulfilled. If Thou wouldst make of me a 
 nation it can only be through pain. My heart is 
 no highway for the nations till it runs through the 
 path of thorns. My joys often divide me from my 
 brother. My prosperity may repel him, my success 
 may anger him, my year of jubilee may be his year 
 of jealousy. But in the fires of Moriah he calls 
 me brother. He comes to my cross. He bleeds 
 at my bereavement. He weeps at my winter. 
 He sighs at my setting sun. It is my defeats that 
 have won my battles, O my Father. Thou hast 
 promised me ten legions, and Thou hast sent me 
 Calvary; but it is Calvary that has made the 
 legions. My cross has fitted me for the crowd. I 
 was apart from my brother till I walked the wave ; 
 but the waters made us one. I was alone on the 
 road till I gained the Garden ; but my sorrow 
 became my city. It was pain that parted my 
 garments among the multitude — Thou hast 
 fulfilled Thy promise in a cloud. 
 
 I2g 
 
WORSHIP IN THE PRACTICAL 
 
 "They departed into a desert place by ship privately; and 
 Jesus, when He came out, saw much people." — Mark vi, 
 32 and 34. 
 
 Here was an interrupted purpose of religious 
 rest. The disciples follow Jesus through a private 
 passage with the view of being with Him alone. 
 Presently they find themselves, not in a quiet room 
 as they expected, but in the midst of a vast and 
 crowded hall where the wants of men and women 
 clamour to be known. It seemed an obstacle 
 thrown in the way of their piety. How sweet it 
 would have been to be alone with Jesus, far from 
 the madding crowd ! Why are they not allowed 
 to have their little hour of intercourse with the 
 Master, undisturbed by the wheels of life ! We 
 of modern times have often asked the same 
 question regarding ourselves. Often have we 
 looked forward to the prospect of freedom from 
 worldly care. We have said, I will get into 
 private life and then I shall have more time for 
 communion with the Spirit of Christ. And lo ! 
 
 130 
 
Worship in the Practical 
 
 as we come out from the world, we find exactly 
 what the disciples found. We find that the 
 cares of the world have followed us into our retreat, 
 that our life is as crowded as it ever was, that 
 we cannot commune with a solitary Christ. Is 
 this a sad experience ? I do not think so. I 
 do not believe that God wishes any man to feel 
 himself alone with Christ. If he did feel himself 
 alone, how could he have communion with Christ's 
 Spirit ! My fellowship with Christ is the sight of 
 His fellowship. Peter wanted a solitary com- 
 munion on the mountain-top : " Let us make 
 three tabernacles — one for Thee and one for 
 Moses and one for Elias." Where lay the sting 
 of the proposal ? In the wish to include Moses 
 and Elias ? Not at all ; but in the wish to 
 exclude everybody else. A Christ upon a moun- 
 tain apart, a Christ whose sympathy was limited 
 to five communicants, a Christ who had no share 
 in the labours of the common day — such was no 
 object for reverence, such was no being to love. 
 If any man seeks a Christ like that, God will 
 immediately send over the mountain a cloud 
 of human cares, and allow the breeze to bear 
 up to the hilltop the cries of the demoniac on 
 the plain. 
 
 Let me not think, O Lord, that Thy com- 
 131 I 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 munion is confined to the private hour ! When 
 I have come out from the secret passage into 
 the crowded hall, let me not say I have parted 
 from Thee ! I once sought a place for silent 
 prayer; I went to the desert to find it. And lo ? 
 when I arrived I could not get near Thee — 
 the pressure of the crowd was so great. And 
 I said, " Why in this world of time hast Thou 
 allowed us so little leisure to prepare for eternity ! '* 
 But now I understand it, O my God. It is because 
 the preparation for Thine eternity is not leisure. 
 Not in my moments of meditation do I mirror 
 best Thy heaven. I meet Thee oftenest when I 
 am in search of my brother. I never find so 
 short a way to Thy New Jerusalem as when I 
 am beautifying the streets of the Old. I have 
 read that Mary asked the dead body of Thy 
 Christ and found instead a living Lord, So has 
 it been with me ; I have found Thy Spirit when I 
 have been helping maji's body. Never have I seen 
 Thee so clearly as when I was breaking bread to 
 the hungry; never have I loved Thee so dearly as 
 when I soothed a brother's pain. I sought the 
 friendless children, and I discovered Bethlehem. 
 I visited the humble homes, and I found 
 Nazareth. I followed the tempter's track, and 
 I met Thy wilderness. I helped the marriage 
 132 
 
Worship in the Practical 
 
 feast, and I recognised Cana. I gladdened a 
 dining-table, and I saw Bethany. I aided the 
 fisherman's toil, and I stood by the Lake of 
 Tiberias. I bore a neighbour's cross up the 
 Dolorous Way, and I felt myself on the brow 
 of Olivet. I thank Thee, O Father, that I did 
 not find my desert. 
 
 »33 
 
THE SEEMING MOMENTS OF DIVINE 
 NEGLECT 
 
 "He saw them toiling in rowing; He cometh unto th m, 
 walking upon the sea, and would have passed by them.' — 
 Mark vi. 48, 
 
 " He would have passed them by." He made t 
 appear as if He were bound on another errand, c s 
 if He had not come for the purpose of helping 
 them. Why so ! When human life is struggUng, 
 why should Divine help even appear to pass by ! 
 Is this a subject on which man should be left to 
 doubt even for an hour ! If God is our refuge 
 and our strength in the day of trouble, why should 
 He put on the disguise of one who is travelling to 
 farther fields and who is bent on other business ! 
 My brother, it is the sublimest wisdom on the 
 part of your Father. God is your very present 
 help in time of trouble; but I do not think it 
 would be good for you if He were revealed as 
 ** very present " — present in such nearness as to 
 exclude your own efforts. We often say, in 
 speaking of human charities, that any help is bad 
 which precludes s^//-help. But it is just as true 
 of the charities of Almighty God. Nay, His 
 
 134 
 
The Seeming Moments of Divine Neglect 
 
 almightiness makes it all the more essential that 
 He should veil His presence. Your Father will 
 not encourage spiritual pauperism. If you are on 
 a stormy sea He will save you ; but He will not 
 save you as one saves a bale of goods. You are 
 not a bale of goods ; you are a man ; and it is as 
 a man He would save you. You have a spirit, 
 and He wants the co-operation of that spirit. 
 Your effort can add nothing to His strength, but 
 it can add greatly to your own value ; and it is 
 your value that your Father wants to secure. 
 That is the reason why He seems to pass by. He 
 would like you to call Him. You cannot call Him 
 if you see Him to be here already. Your cry 
 requires the mist. If He would wake the spirit 
 of prayer He must create the delusion of solitude; 
 He must make it appear as if you were alone. 
 Therefore it is that He makes as if He would pass 
 by. He hides His nearness ; He conceals His pur- 
 pose ; He veils the hand that already touches yours. 
 My soul, often have I heard thee say with 
 Israel's prophet, " Verily Thou art a God that 
 hidest Thyself ! " And in this thou namest thy 
 Father well. He is indeed a God that hides 
 Himself; but His hiding is His brightest revealing. 
 He has never come so near to thee as when He 
 seems to pass by. It is always by night thy 
 
 135 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 Father seeketh thee — by night and by means of 
 night. Not thus does He come to other creatures. 
 He comes to the sun in hght. He comes to the 
 hill in gold. He comes to the plant in warmth. 
 He comes to the bird in song. But not so does 
 He begin with thee — He cometh to thee with 
 clouds. Wilt thou complain that thine is not the 
 fate of the sun or the hill or the plant or the bird? 
 Then art thou complaining of thine own greatness. 
 He comes to thee in the night because He desires 
 to hear thy cry. Thou art the only creature that 
 has a cry for Him. Nothing else would pine if 
 He passed it by. The sun would not long for its 
 light ; the hill would not grieve for its gold ; the 
 plant would not weep for its warmth ; the bird 
 would not sigh for its song. But thou canst long 
 for Him, thou canst grieve for Him, thou canst 
 weep for Him, thou canst sigh for Him, O my 
 soul. The night of other things brings no music 
 to His ear; but thy night gives Him songs. It 
 warbles thy want of Him. It hymns thy hunger 
 for Him. It sings thy search for Him. It chants 
 thy choice of Him. It notes thy need of Him. 
 It preludes thy prayer to Him. It voices the 
 void of thy heart without Him. It is no wonder 
 that, with such treasures in thy night, thy Father 
 oft should choose the night for thee. 
 
 136 
 
PROVIDENCE IN THE COMMON- 
 PLACE 
 
 "The Spirit said unto Philip, Go near, and join thyself to 
 this chariot." — Acts viii, 29. 
 
 The Spirit of Providence is always manifested in 
 joining things. It does not work miraculously, 
 but it causes separate things to work together. 
 Here was a whole train of separate incidents. An 
 Ethiopian sat in his chariot. He was on his 
 return journey — his business was done, and there- 
 fore his mind was at leisure. Being at leisure, he 
 began to read. Out of the many books with which 
 he might have passed an hour he chose the 
 Prophecies of Isaiah, and, as the place was a 
 desert, he was not likely to be disturbed. But, on 
 the road, the chariot happened to pass a man, and 
 the man whom it passed happened to be a 
 Christian missionary. Into the heart of the 
 missionary there came an unaccountable impulse 
 to run after the chariot. All the circumstances 
 were against the Ethiopian stopping his horses. 
 Why should he take up a pedestrian simply 
 because he was so impertinent as to run after his 
 137 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 carriage ! And then, the Ethiopian was reading ; 
 why interrupt his reading by taking in a total 
 stranger ! Everything said, Do not stop 1 But he 
 did ; and by that act all the separate rays were 
 united. They came together in one providential 
 beam. Taken by themselves, any one of them 
 might have been an accident. A carriage on a 
 lonely road with a man reading inside is a very 
 common thing. A pedestrian running behind a 
 carriage is a very common thing. A religious 
 teacher in an obscure sphere is a very common 
 thing. An individual studying a chapter of the 
 Bible is a very common thing. The momentary 
 stopping of a conveyance, is a very common thing. 
 But when all these seeming accidents were united, 
 the result was a startling providence — the Chris- 
 tianising of a kingdom. 
 
 Lord, Thy life-miracle to me is the great issue 
 that comes from the union of trifling things. In 
 the world of chemistry I can make a third 
 substance by uniting two separate substances; 
 Thine is the chemistry of life, O Lord. We go 
 our separate ways, my brother and L He takes 
 the high road on his own errand ; I take the low 
 on mine. We meet at an unexpected turning; 
 and, as the result, there is fulfilled, neither his 
 errand nor mine, but Thine. And what in all this 
 
 138 
 
Providence in the Commonplace 
 
 is Thy message to my soul ? It is the reverence 
 for the trivial. Can I ever again say that a desert 
 road is purposeless ? Can I ever again say that an 
 obscure ministerial sphere is burial ? Can I ever 
 again say that the passing of a carriage is 
 uneventful ? No, my Father. Henceforth to me 
 these shall all be possible sacraments. I shall 
 uncover my head to them as I go by. I shall look 
 with veneration on the rejected stones of life's 
 temple. When my lot is cast in an obscure place 
 I shall bow to the solitude ; who knows but Thou 
 shalt make that cloud my chariot ! When I am 
 interrupted in reading a chapter I shall not say, 
 "The flesh warreth against the spirit"; who knows 
 but my interruption may be Thy commentary ! 
 When I see but one man in my audience I shall 
 not cry, " The mission has failed " ; who knows 
 but in that one there is secured the most crowded 
 of all cathedrals ! I shall build an altar to the 
 commonplace ; I shall reverence life's daily round. 
 I shall tremble before trifles ; I shall sacrifice to 
 the small ; I shall worship what the world calls 
 worthless. Samaria's well may be Thy welcome, 
 Simon's feast may be Thy fellowship, a broken 
 box of ointment may bring beatitude to Thy 
 heart ; make me solemn in the secular, O my 
 God! 
 
 139 
 
THE TRUE SPHERE OF FAITH 
 
 " They could not enter in because of unbelief." — Heb. hi. 19. 
 
 It is not an entrance into heaven that is here 
 spoken of, but an entrance into earth. The writer 
 is speaking of a physical Canaan, a land of human 
 rest. I think we lose the significance of the words 
 by not keeping this in mind. We always associate 
 belief with the salvation of the soul ; it is here 
 made a provision for the well-being of the body — 
 a qualification for success in life. And the remark- 
 able thing is that it is recommended for the 
 entrance into life. The common view is that we 
 should gain belief by our earthly struggles. We 
 think of youth as by right a time for doubt, for 
 mental unrest. We picture the soul's progress as 
 a search for God — its early years a battle-field, its 
 midday a suspended judgment, its evening a 
 crown of peace. Not thus thought the writer to 
 the Hebrews. To him belief was for life's entrance, 
 life's gateway. Instead of regarding the world as 
 a place for struggling into the knowledge of God, 
 he regarded God as a means of struggling into a 
 knowledge of the world. He wished to begin 
 
 140 
 
The True Sphere of Faith 
 
 earthly Hfe with God — not to seek Him by the aid 
 of candles, but to light candles by the aid of Hi7n, 
 And is he not right ! Suppose a young man to 
 say, " I am about to get married ; if I am happy 
 in my married life I shall believe in God ; if not, 
 I shall refuse to believe." Where lies the fallacy 
 of such a test ? It is here — he throw^s into the sea 
 half his capital before beginning the struggle of 
 life. One half, at least, of his wedded happiness 
 will depend on the use of that very spirit of 
 religion which he has resolved in the meantime 
 to tie up in a napkin. It will not do to begin 
 the world without God, and say, when you trip, 
 "This proves there is no God." It is hke an 
 invalid who insists on walking by himself to see 
 if there is a couch ten miles off. He must have 
 his couch before starting — he must begin with 
 rest. It is not by experience we gain calm ; it is 
 by calm we gain experience. The wings by which 
 I rise must be fostered in the nest. The force by 
 which I run must be nourished at the hearth. 
 The strength by which I toil must be fanned by 
 the peace of home. To tread the courts of man I 
 must trust the course of God. 
 
 Lord, come to me on life's threshold, come to 
 me in the morning hour ! Not when the day is 
 far spent would I first meet Thee. It might help 
 141 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 me for another world, but it would be too late for 
 this. It is not enough for me to gain heaven ; I 
 must win earth. I know that the parting sigh of 
 a dying thief may secure paradise ; but what 
 untilled ground it will leave behind ! I know that 
 even at evening time there may be light — that my 
 heart may burn as I walk with Thee towards the 
 setting day. But the burning is for a new day — 
 not for this ; the fire in my bush is no longer for 
 the wilderness. I should like an earlier flame, O 
 my God. Why should my heart wait for Emmaus 
 to set it on fire ! Why should it not be kindled at 
 Jordan— kindled for the wilderness, kindled for 
 the marriage feast, kindled for the weariness at 
 Samaria's well ! Is it not for earth I chiefly need 
 my heart's burning ! Why should I keep my faith 
 in Thee for the days of heaven ! Is it not here 
 that it would most help me — here, where the 
 streets are not of gold — here, where the gates are 
 not of pearl — here, where the rivers are not 
 crystal-pure ! I wish Thee for warfare ; I need 
 Thee for night ; I seek Thee for struggle ; I prize 
 Thee for privation ; I want Thee for the hours of 
 weariness ; I crave Thee for the strength in con- 
 flict; I cling to Thee for the rainbow in the cloud. 
 Experience may tarry for the noontide, but faith 
 should come with the morning light. 
 
 142 
 
THE DIVINE IN THE HUMBLE 
 
 •' Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, the brothei 
 of James, and Joses, and of Judah, and Simon ? and are not 
 his sisters here with us? And they were offended at Him." 
 — Mark vi. 3. 
 
 This is the earliest offence given by the Gospel ; 
 and to my mind it is deeply suggestive, because I 
 think it is still the earliest offence taken by each 
 individual soul. What is the ground of complaint 
 here spoken of ? Briefly stated, it is the homeli- 
 ness of Christianity. Men refused to recognise 
 a thing which grew amid such mean surroundings. 
 Had Jesus claimed anything less than a Divine 
 message there would have been no objection to 
 His mean surroundings. Had He claimed merely 
 the inspiration of human genius no one would 
 have seen any contradiction in the poverty of His 
 environment. For all human conditions the Jew 
 prescribed toil ; he desired that every man should 
 learn a trade, should live as if he had to earn his 
 bread. But when he came to speak of man's 
 relation to God, then changed the spirit of his 
 dream. To him the attitude of God was e\ or one 
 
 H3 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 of rest. His God lay in the secret place of His 
 pavilion, with the curtains drawn, and the doors 
 shut, and the windows deafened ; He could only 
 work through His angels ; He must not soil His 
 hands with mundane things. He who professed 
 to be a Son of God must be a child of mystery. 
 He must have nothing homely about Him. He 
 must be all soul, no body ; all wings, no feet ; all 
 poetry, no prose ; all heaven, no earth. And is 
 not this also our first ideal of the Divine Life. In 
 our moments of religious awakening we deny that 
 morality is evangelical. We are offended when a 
 preacher cries, " Salvation is goodness, work is 
 worship, integrity is the service of God ! " We 
 say, "These are common things, homely things, 
 things for the exchange and the market-place ; 
 you will see them in Nazareth every day." Happy 
 Nazareth ! — I would, then, that all the cities were 
 like thee ! Know ye not that God's mountain is 
 man's valley! What did Christ bless on the 
 mount ? It was earth's homehest flowers — humble- 
 mindedness, sorrow for another's fall, good temper, 
 wish to do right, slowness to revenge, imputing of 
 pure motives, power to throw oil on troubled 
 waters. These are the seven valley flowers which 
 the Lord has blessed. 
 
 Be not offended at their lowliness, O my soul ! 
 144 
 
The Divine in the Humble 
 
 I have heard thee say, " Oh, these were only the 
 virtues for beginners ! " Not thus did thy Lord 
 mean them. These valley flowers are carried to 
 the top of the hill ; it is there they are displayed. 
 Why did He carry them up; why did He not bring 
 thee down to the vale and show them as they 
 grew ? Just because He would have thee to know 
 they were not beginner's flowers. Thinkest thou 
 it is easy to be good in common things ! There 
 is no task for thee so arduous. It is easy to feel 
 poor in spirit when thou art under the stars of God ; 
 but it is hard to feel so under the rebuke of man. 
 It is easy to be meek in the presence of the wise ; 
 but it is hard to suppress thyself in the streets of 
 Nazareth. It is easy to think charitably of those 
 who walk on a plain above thee ; but it is hard to 
 think so in the rivalries of the exchange. It is 
 easy for thy pride to make its peace with heaven ; 
 but it is hard to throw oil on the waters if thou 
 art insulted by an earthly worm. Gather thy 
 valley flowers ! Take them up tenderly ; care for 
 them constantly ; watch them right warily ! Water 
 them lest they wither; protect them lest they 
 perish ; fan them with heaven's air lest they fade 
 and die ! The flowers of Galilee shall be the 
 flowers of Paradise ; magnify thy Nazareth, O my 
 soul ! 
 
 H5 K 
 
UNCONSCIOUS CHRISTIANITY 
 
 "Then asked they him, What man is that which said unto 
 thee, Take up thy bed and walk? And he that was healed 
 wist not who it was."— John v. 12, 13. 
 
 Here is a man who is very defective in his 
 answers to the catechism, yet who bears in his 
 body the marks of the Lord Jesus. The school- 
 master puts to him the question, " What man is 
 that which said unto thee, * Take up thy bed and 
 walk ' ? " He is speechless. He is absolutely 
 without a theology. He can give no account of 
 Jesus — who He was, where He came from, whither 
 He was going. Men would have said he was an 
 agnostic; he "wist not." Yet, all unconsciously 
 to himself, this man was already a Christian. 
 He had bathed in the crystal fountain ; he had 
 felt the sparkling spray; he had experienced a 
 new life in heart and limb. He was a disciple 
 without knowing it — a follower without a faith, a 
 convert without a creed, a devotee without a 
 doctrine. If you had asked him what church he 
 belonged to, he would assuredly have answered, 
 ** I am member of no church " ; I do not know of 
 146 
 
f-L 
 
 Unconscious Christianity 
 
 any communion that would have received a man 
 of such Hmited knowledge. Yet at that very 
 moment his name was certainly enrolled among 
 the members of the Church Invisible. He was 
 one of the hundred and forty-four thousand. He 
 was numbered in the census of the New Jerusalem. 
 He was a singer in the Choir Celestial ; but he 
 knew not the song he was singing. He was a 
 painter in the Gallery of Grace ; but he saw not 
 the forms he was weaving. He was a builder of 
 the Church Universal; but he thought he was 
 making only a place for men to dwell in. He was 
 led by the hand of Jesus ; but he thought it was 
 a servant's hand. 
 
 Lord, there are many men of Bethesda among 
 Thy people still. There are those who, like 
 Jacob, get a blessing from Thee before they have 
 learned Thy name. Often have I figured to 
 myself that little child whom Thou didst raise 
 in Thine arms. It got the blessing before it 
 received the teaching. Many there be who enter 
 into Thy temple by that door. They serve Thee 
 ere they can name Thee. Like Abraham, they walk 
 in the Promised Land and think themselves else- 
 where. They do not know the cause of their own 
 hearts' burning. They say, " I got it from the 
 torch of Nature ; I was walking on the road to 
 147 K 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 Emmaus, and a man met me and gave me light." 
 Thou art that man, O Lord. It is Thou who 
 disguisest Thyself in the dress of common day. 
 It is Thou that meetest us on the secular road, 
 the Emmaus road, the road of those who 
 think they have abandoned Thee. It is Thou 
 whom we take to be the gardener; it is Thou 
 whom we mistake for the stranger. Often do we 
 say to a wayworn traveller, '' Abide with us, for 
 it is evening, and the day is far spent." We call 
 the deed our philanthropy, our humanity, our 
 natural charity. And, all the time, it is prompted 
 by Thee. It is Thou whom I have asked to abide 
 with me. It is Thou whom I have sheltered from 
 the night. It is Thou whom I have constrained 
 to come in and rest awhile. My charity has been 
 chimed by Thee; my pity has been plumed by 
 Thee ; my heart has been heated by Thee ; my 
 kindness has been kindled by Thee; my com- 
 passion has been created by Thee. My benevo- 
 lence is Thy blessing ; my philanthropy is Thy 
 flame; my grace is Thy gift; my love is Thy 
 light ; my mercy is Thy mediation ; my sympathy 
 is Thy sacrifice ; my tenderness is Thy tending ; 
 my warmth is the working of Thy wings. I have 
 sought my brother by the footprints left by Thee, 
 and I wist not that they were Thine. 
 148 
 
THE GOAL OF ADVERSITY 
 
 " He took her by the hand and lifted her up, and immedi- 
 ately the fever left her; and she ministered unto them."— 
 Mark i. 31. 
 
 Mark had a very active mind — the most active 
 mind of all the four evangelists. He delights to 
 record not words but deeds. I do not think that 
 any of the others, after teUing of this woman's 
 cure, would have immediately added, " and she 
 ministered unto them." The sequel is not what we 
 should expect. When an invalid awakes from the 
 prostration of fever we expect to hear that others 
 minister to her — do what they can to repair the 
 ravages of disease. The first thing Matthew 
 records about the convalescent daughter of Jairus 
 is the command of Jesus that "something should 
 be given her to eat." No doubt the time came 
 when she also ministered to the household ; but 
 Matthew does not pass on to that ; he drops the 
 curtain at the couch of the invalid. Is Mark, then, 
 less sympathetic ? Is it want of sentiment that 
 makes him haste to tell us how soon this woman 
 149 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 was up and at her work again ? No ; I think it is 
 the opposite feehng. Mark feels that the great use 
 of a temporary personal burden is the power it 
 gives for human ministration. This is a side of 
 the subject which we do not often look at. We 
 seldom view our invalid moments as preparations 
 for increased activity. But Mark does so view 
 them ; to him this is their glory. The woman 
 raised from the bed of fever is not merely restored; 
 she is magnified. She is in a better state than if 
 she had never been ill. ; The illness has been an 
 enrichment. I think her new ministrant attitude 
 must have been to her friends as great a surprise, 
 as great a miracle, as her cure. They saw her, 
 very likely, as they had never seen her before — 
 lending a helpful hand with a cheerful spirit. But 
 to us of later years this will be no surprise. We 
 have learned something — the very lesson which 
 Mark meant to teach us — that pain is the ivory 
 gate and golden which leads into the heart of our 
 brother. 
 
 My soul, it was by the gate of the temple called 
 Beautiful that the lame man was laid; in the 
 moments of thine impotence, remember that. 
 Remember that thine experience of the cross is 
 itself the gate into the temple of sympathy. I do 
 not say it is thine only gate into Heaven; Heaven 
 150 
 
The Goal of Adversity 
 
 has many temples — many mansions. Thou shalt 
 know by the training here what shall be thy 
 temple yonder. Perhaps thine is here an inquir- 
 ing mind ; there are yonder those who " inquire 
 in His temple." Perhaps thine is here the gift of 
 eloquence ; there are yonder those who " in His 
 temple speak of His glory." Perhaps thou hast 
 here the spirit of an artist ; there are yonder those 
 whose temple is a place in which '* to behold the 
 beauty of the Lord." But it may be that here thy 
 lot is simply to lie low — to be prostrated on a bed 
 of pain. That battered gate is the most beautiful 
 of all. It is thy training for the night service. It 
 is thy school for learning the art of mercy. The 
 barrier that chains thee is a rudimentary wing ; 
 one day thou shalt fly with it. One day it will 
 bear thee on errands of love. One day it will 
 carry thee to the spirits in prison that thou mayst 
 lead them to fountains of living water. One day 
 thou shalt open more doors than the angels, 
 because the a hast been where they have not — in 
 the valley of tribulation. In the hour thou callest 
 death Christ shall take thee by the hand, and on 
 the wings of thine earthly infirmity thou shalt arise 
 and minister. 
 
 151 
 
THE LIMIT TO DIVINE 
 RETRIBUTION 
 
 " I will correct thee with judgment." — Jer. xlvi. 28 (R. V.). 
 
 The love of a good father is as much seen in 
 his punishments as in his rewards. We all recog- 
 nise the truth that the reward given to a child 
 should be on the lines of the child's nature. No 
 father would recompense a boy of seven by giving 
 him a copy of Matthew Henry's Commentary; we 
 should call that a reward without judgment. But 
 parents do not so often recognise the fact that a 
 child's penalty should be also on the lines of his 
 nature, that he should not be corrected without 
 judgment. A boy transgresses on the Sabbath 
 day; you send him to write out the hundred and 
 nineteenth psalm. What is the objection to this? 
 It is too much, you say. That is not the objec- 
 tion ; the evil does not lie in the quantity. It is 
 not that the penalty is too much, but that it is too 
 inappropriate. It is actually helping the child's 
 heart to transgress against the Sabbath ; it is 
 fomenting his dislike of religious ordinances in 
 
 152 
 
The Limit to Divine Retribution 
 
 general and of the Bible in particular; it is a 
 correction without judgment. A girl tells you a 
 lie through fear ; you lock her in a dark room. 
 Is that a wise correction ? No ; you are develop- 
 ing that very element which has caused her to 
 err — the overmastering power of fear. Or, instead 
 of the dark room, you confront her thenceforth 
 with a perpetually dark countenance — a face 
 which says : ** You know I can believe nothing 
 from you/'' Is that correction wise? No; it is 
 telling her she is measured by a low standard ; 
 and when she realises that, she will soon come to 
 measure herself by a low standard. Never tell a 
 child that you expect nothing from him ; that is 
 the way to get nothing. At the time of the flood, 
 never forget to show the rainbow, for the rainbow 
 is never so needed as then. It is in the hour of 
 penalty that we need the promise. Innocence can 
 dispense with vision ; Eden can bloom without 
 prophecies ; but the heart of fallen Adam must 
 be cheered with the prediction of the serpent 
 bruised. 
 
 There is always a light in Thy valley, O Lord ; 
 Thy correction is ever tempered with judgment. 
 I have heard that every sin deserves Thy wrath 
 and curse. No, every sin deserves Thy penalty 
 and Thy promise. The stroke and the star, the 
 153 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 retribution and the rainbow, the pain and the 
 pity, the smiting and the smile — that is what my 
 erring soul requires. Thou wilt never send the 
 stroke without the star, the smiting without the 
 smile. The famine and the swine-husks alone 
 could not send the prodigal home ; it required the 
 attraction of Thine eye — the eye that followed 
 him when he was yet afar off. The pain of my 
 sin comes not from the rod, but from the rose — 
 the ''awful rose of dawn." I cannot feel my 
 chain till I hear the voices of liberty. It is when 
 I see in the distance the warm fire of Thy love 
 that I learn how cold I am. It is from Thy sun- 
 beams that my stripes must come. Nothing but 
 light can lash my sin. Nothing but beauty can 
 burn my corruption. Nothing but revelation can 
 rend my heart. It was when he saw Thy look of 
 love that Peter wept bitterly. My sin can only 
 be punished by a sense of Thy mercy ; correct me 
 by Thy mercy, O Lord I 
 
 ^54 
 
THE FAITH PRECEDING EVIDENCE 
 
 " Faith which worketh by love." — Gal. v. 6. 
 
 I TAKE the words to mean that there are things 
 for which love is itself the evidence. There is a 
 familiar saying, " Seeing is believing." But it is 
 equally true that " feeling is believing." There 
 are some in this world who love because they 
 believe ; but I think there are a still larger num- 
 ber who believe because they love. It has always 
 seemed to me — though it is not the common 
 opinion — that St. John belongs to the first class 
 and St. Paul to the second. John's motto is, 
 *' Believe, and live " ; Paul's motto is, '* Live, and 
 believe." John sees the transfiguration glory and 
 then lies upon Christ's bosom ; Paul lies upon the 
 bosom and is then caught up to see the glory. 
 John says, " If we walk in the light we shall have 
 fellowship"; Paul cries, *' If ye be rooted and 
 grounded in love ye shall be able to comprehend, 
 with all saints, what passeth knowledge." I have 
 seen two children, each animated by perfect trust 
 in an earthly father, but each for a different reason. 
 ^5S 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 The one virtually said, " I trust him because he 
 loves me " ; the other said in effect, " I trust 
 because I love him.'' Now, I think the larger 
 number of the human race belong to the latter 
 class. The amount of faith we repose in others is 
 quite disproportionate to our knowledge of them. 
 You will see two girls in the course of a few hours 
 becoming mutual confidants. Why is this ? It is 
 because they have taken a liking for one another. 
 Their faith in each other has had nothing to work 
 upon but love. There has not been time for 
 experience. Love is the anticipatov of experience. 
 Love pays in advance ; it gives the money before 
 it receives the thing. Divine love is no exception. 
 God pays man in advance for services not yet 
 rendered; I suppose that is what the prophet 
 means when he cries, " Behold ! His reward is 
 with Him and His work before Him ! " Love gives 
 its confidence in advance. It waits not for proof. 
 It lingers not for corroboration. It suspends not 
 its trust till its object is weighed in the balance. 
 It surrenders its faith unpaid for. 
 
 My brother, be this thy faith in thy fellow-man ! 
 Do not wait till thou hast proved him ! Thou 
 lookest abroad upon the lapsed masses; thou 
 seest no beauty to be desired in them. Wilt thou 
 then let them go ? Is thy faith to be dependent 
 
The Faith Preceding Evidence 
 
 on sight ? Not if thou lovest. If thou lovest thy 
 lapsed brother thou wilt hope all things for him. 
 Love gives the benefit of the doubt to those who 
 seem unpromising. Love imputes its own 
 righteousness to those who are still in shadow. 
 Love believes in to-morrow for those in a dark 
 to-day. My brother, if thou lovest, thou shalt 
 believe that all things are possible for man. 
 Though as yet thou seest no rainbow, though as 
 yet thou hearest no bells across the snow, though 
 as yet there has come from the waters not even 
 an olive branch of peace, still thou shalt believe. 
 Love itself shall be thy rainbow ; love itself shall 
 be thy bell of hope ; love itself shall be thy 
 message from the flood. Humanity is still climb- 
 ing the Dolorous Way — fainting beneath her 
 crosses, groaning amid her thorns. Wait not 
 till she has conquered, wait not till she is 
 crowned ! Go out to meet her in her climbing ! 
 Go out to greet her in her night ! Go out to own 
 her in her rags ! Take up her bitter cross and call 
 it thine ! And if men say to thee, *' Why darest 
 thou to hope for these withered leaves?" lay thy 
 hand upon thy heart and say, " Love believeth all 
 things 1 " 
 
 ^57 
 
THE SUCCOUR OF THE TEMPTED 
 
 " In that He Himself hath suffered, being tempted, He is 
 able to succour them that are tempted." — Heb. ii. i8. 
 
 How can the writer to the Hebrews say this 
 when he himself tells us that Christ's temptation 
 was "without sin " ? Is not the absence of sin 
 the absence of a most important element for a 
 sympathiser with human weakness ? No, it is 
 not. The soreness of a temptation, in my opinion, 
 never lies in the presence of sin ; it lies precisely 
 in the concealment of sin. If the sin of the act 
 were conspicuous, there would be very little 
 struggle. The struggle of the temptation lies in 
 the hiding of the evil. Temptation did not come 
 to Jesus as a choice between good and evil — I do 
 not think in its sorest form it comes to any man 
 as a choice between good and evil. What we 
 struggle with is a masked form, and we struggle 
 to unmask it. The tempter tells Jesus that certain 
 drastic acts will be for the good of the kingdom. 
 In that motive lies Christ's temptation ; His whole 
 struggle is to discover whether the drastic act 
 
 15S 
 
The Succour of the Tempted 
 
 would really be for the good of His kingdom; 
 when He decides that it would not, the soreness of 
 the temptation is gone. We have not all such high 
 motives for listening to the tempter ; but we have 
 always a higher motive than the intrinsic love of 
 sin. When we are tempted to do wrong our 
 danger lies in the eclipse of sin — ^just as Christ's 
 danger lay in His actual sinlessness. The succour 
 we need is precisely the same as the succour He 
 needed. We want to be shown that the course 
 proposed would be evil ; our cry is, ** Show us the 
 tempter, and it sufficeth — sufficeth to make us 
 flee ! " It is because Christ can do this that He 
 is able to succour. 
 
 Jesus, when I go up to the mount of temptation, 
 let it be with Thee ! I am bound to go up, even 
 as Thou wert. Often have I thought of these 
 words, ** Jesus, being full of the Holy Ghost, was 
 led by the Spirit into the wilderness." Yes, it 
 was Thy spiritual ecstasy that made the wilderness 
 inevitable to Thee. It is my spiritual ecstasy that 
 makes my wilderness inevitable. It is after my 
 exaltation that my reaction comes. It is the very 
 glory of my baptism that brings my desert. The 
 sight of the open heavens makes me scorn the 
 slow methods of earth. I am tempted to follow 
 new paths, quicker paths — to be restive under the 
 159 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 old regime. Succour me, O Lord ! Succour me 
 as Thou Thyself wert succoured — by a vision of 
 the sin beneath the seeming good ! Show me that 
 the old regime is the Will of the Father, that the 
 new method is my own will ! Unmask the seeming 
 sanctity of sin ! Disrobe the tempter of his 
 trappings of truth ! Draw aside the veil from the 
 face of evil ! If I could see that face, temptation 
 would die. Reveal it, O Christ ! Thou alone 
 canst reveal sin. Nothing but purity can disclose 
 impurity. It is written, *' In Thy light shall we 
 see light " ; yea, but it is also true, *' In Thy light 
 shall we see darkness." Shine, and I shall know 
 what night is ! Sing, and I shall know what dis- 
 cord is ! Speak, and I shall know what silence is ! 
 Touch, and I shall know what solitude is ! In- 
 spire, and I shall know what meanness is ! 
 Quicken, and I shall know what death is ! Reveal 
 sin by the brightness of Thy coming, and I shall 
 yield to temptation no morel 
 
 i6o 
 
BLEMISHES IN THE GREAT 
 
 '• Then Daniel was astonied for one hour." — Dan. iv. 19. 
 
 The words to my mind are strongly dramatic. 
 They are meant to convey the impression of a 
 contradiction in terms. Daniel at a loss even for 
 one hour ! Daniel at sea ! Daniel at the end of 
 his resources I It seems the climax of impossi- 
 bility. For one hour of his life Daniel falsified 
 his character — was found paralysed in judgment. 
 Is it not a pity that God allowed it ! Is it not a 
 pity that man recorded it ! Do we not love to 
 think of Socrates as never having lost his temper ! 
 of Caesar as never having lost a battle ! of Solomon 
 as never having lost an opportunity ! Why should 
 the Bible have allowed one rent to appear in the 
 seamless robe of Daniel ; is it not a breach of 
 Divine art ? I do not think so. I hold that 
 nothing brings out moral beauty like a shadowy 
 background. What a charming light is thrown 
 upon Daniel's wisdom by this one hour of per- 
 plexity ! It shows that his wisdom was the result 
 of personal struggle — that it was not the wisdom 
 161 L 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 of the bee or of the spider or of the ant — imposed 
 from the outside, but that it was something to 
 which, through darkness, he had to work his way. 
 Men talk of the examples of the great ; I think 
 the finest part of their example is the one hour in 
 which they fail. That one hour makes them 
 possible for me. Before it, I looked upon them as 
 specially endowed, raised by nature far above the 
 reach of my hand. But that hour said : " Go and 
 do thou likewise ! " It told me that he whom I 
 admired was a man of like passions. It told me 
 that he, as much as I, had the element of human 
 weakness. It is not the powers, but the difficulties, 
 of the great that inspire us. I get my wings from 
 their night — not from their sunshine. I make 
 their clouds my chariot. I rise upon the step on 
 which they fall. It is not the footprints they have 
 left on the sands of time that impel me to follow ; 
 it is the spots where the footprints fail. Jacob 
 may be a prince that has power with God ; but he 
 only becomes my example when he halts upon his 
 thigh. 
 
 I thank Thee, O Lord, that Thou hast revealed 
 in the life of each saint one dark hour. I used to 
 wonder. It seemed a strange thing that the 
 temple of a holy life should have one gate not 
 beautiful. I do not wonder now ; I adore the 
 
 162 
 
Blemishes in the Great 
 
 wisdom that has made it so. I bless Thee, my 
 Father, for the saint's broken gate ; it will be the 
 only gate of entrance for me. How can I aspire 
 to pass into the temple by his gate of glory ! I 
 dare not mount with Elijah in his chariot of fire — 
 I should grow giddy with the height ; but he had 
 an hour of despondency when he cried like a child ; 
 I will meet him there ! I dare not climb with 
 Moses to the summit of Pisgah — I am not fit to see 
 the Promised Land ; but he had an hour of 
 temper when he showed the common clay ; I will 
 meet him there ! I dare not seek with Abraham 
 the top of Moriah's hill — I am not yet ripe for the 
 sacrifice ; but he had an hour of trembling when 
 he chose the coward's part ; I will meet him there ! 
 I dare not fly with John to the visions of Patmos 
 — mine eyes would be blinded with the glow ; but 
 he had an hour at Samaria when he forgot the 
 vision of his Lord ; I will meet him there ! I will 
 take wing from their weakness ; I will get robed 
 from their rags ; I will rise from the spot where 
 they wrestle ; in the place where they flagged I 
 shall be constrained to fly. I thank Thee, O Lord, 
 for Daniel's impotent hour. 
 
 163 L 2 
 
THE CHRISTIAN VICTORY OVER 
 SORROW 
 
 " He saith to the sick of the palsy, Arise, take up thy bed, 
 and go into thine house."— Mark ii. id, ii. 
 
 This man was made to reverse his relation to 
 his former cross. He had been a paralytic. He 
 had been brought to Jesus on a bed. His bed was 
 his cross, and his cross had borne him down. But 
 when he had met Jesus, instead of the bed taking 
 up him, he took up the bed ! His earliest strength 
 was manifested in the lifting of that which had 
 once weighed him down ! One would have thought 
 that a man who had just got rid of his cross would 
 have run from his cross, would have left it on the 
 highway and fled. Not so this cured paralytic. 
 He embraces the emblem of his former pain — he 
 carries his bed ! So will it ever be with the 
 Christian. He will not scorn the calamity from 
 which he has been emancipated. He will not 
 deem that his calamity was a loss of time. He 
 will say, *' I have got rid of it to-day because it is 
 no longer my portion for to-day ; but I still believe 
 164 
 
The Christian Victory Over Sorrow 
 
 it was my portion for yesterday." And because 
 he feels that the cross was good for his yesterday, 
 he will take it up tenderly after his cure. He will 
 bear it into his house and keep it there — keep it as 
 a memory. That is the difference between Christ 
 and other masters. They, as well as He, profess 
 to lift you from your bed ; but they consign the 
 bed itself to oblivion. Theirs is the gospel of 
 extrication ; it offers to cast your cross into the 
 sea. But His is the gospel of vindication ; it 
 defends your cross in the very act of removing 
 it. It bids you take up the bed on which you were 
 lying. It tells you to carry it home, to make it a 
 part of your furniture, to claim it as an item of 
 your household riches. To triumph n Christ is 
 not simply the abolition of pain but the transforma- 
 tion of pain — not merely the death of sorrow but 
 the turning of sorrow into joy. Others may promise 
 instead of a cross a crown ; with Him the cross is 
 made the crown. Others may promise to transport 
 you from a valley into a mountain ; with Him it is 
 the valley itself that has to be exalted. Others 
 may promise to remove all obstacles from your 
 path ; with Him it is the crooked things them- 
 selves that are to be made straight and the rough 
 places themselves that are to become plain. 
 Others may say, " Arise, and forget thy bed ; " 
 165 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 with Him the mandate is, ** Arise, take up thy bed 
 and walk." 
 
 Lord, I have heardmen say, " Go, bury thy sorrow." 
 Yet methinks the peace which Thou givest is deeper 
 than that. I could bury my sorrow without Thee. 
 I could bury it in the wine-cup. I could bury it in 
 the excitement of a cause. I could bury it in a 
 withered heart. I could bury it in a winter of old- 
 age whose snows benumbed the sense. The world 
 could give my sorrow decent burial if that were all 
 I needed. But that is not all I need. It is not 
 forgetfulness of my cross that I most require ; it is 
 glorified remembrance. I want my cross not to be 
 buried, but to be lifted up — raised into the sunlight. 
 The world cannot do that for me, O Lord. It can 
 say, " Bury thy sorrow," but not, " Take up thy 
 bed." Thou canst say, " Take up thy bed." Thou 
 canst show me not merely the burial of my cross, 
 but its resurrection into newness of life. Thou 
 canst transform my thorn into a flower. And I 
 want my thorn transformed into a flower. Job has 
 got the sunshine after the rain ; but has the rain 
 been all waste ! Job wants to know, and I want 
 to know, if the shower had nothing to do with the 
 shining. And Thou canst tell me — Thy cross 
 can tell me. Olivet is not the death of Calvary ; 
 it is Calvary in bloom. Thou hast not buried Thy 
 i66 
 
The Christian Victory Over Sorrow 
 
 sorrow ; Thou hast crowned Thy sorrow. Be this 
 my crown, O Lord ! The world can dry my tears, 
 the world can drown my cares ; but I only triumph 
 in Thee when I have learned the radiance of the 
 rain. 
 
 167 
 
RELIGIOUS JOY 
 
 ••Bear no burden on the sabbath day." — Jer. xvii. 21. 
 
 Did you ever ask yourself why the Jew forbade 
 work on Sunday ? It is commonly thought that 
 the prohibition originated in his gloomy views of 
 religion — in his tendency to regard worship as a 
 penance. I believe the motive was just the 
 opposite. I think the design of the command 
 was to associate the Sabbath with brightness. 
 Wherefore is it said, " Bear no burden on the 
 Sabbath day " ? Is it meant to suggest a priva- 
 tion ? No, it is intended to convey a privilege — 
 the sense of a holiday. The Jew associated his 
 Sabbath with the absence of a burden. He 
 associated it with leisure of mind and freedom of 
 body. He linked it with the idea of pleasure, he 
 bound it to the heart with a thread of gold. It is 
 as if he had said : " Let your Sabbath be a 
 happy day, a burdenless day, a flowery day. Let 
 it be a day when you will have a sense of release 
 from toil, of freedom from worry, of emancipation 
 from care. Let it be a day from which gloom 
 168 
 
Religious Joy 
 
 shall vanish, in which joy shall reign. Let it be a 
 day for the birds to sing, for the brooks to warble, 
 for the sunbeams to play. Let men think of God's 
 presence as an hour of revelry, as an abandoning 
 of care, as a release from the trammels of the 
 school. Let them receive God's Kingdom as a 
 little child receives its toy." 
 
 Forbid, O Father, that I should ever associate 
 Thy service with a burden ! I shall never serve 
 Thee well till the burden is fallen from me, till it 
 is buried in the sea. As long as Martha is cum- 
 bered, she works badly. My soul is unlike a 
 steamship ; it only goes rapidly when it is without 
 effort. I am never quite active till I am passive — 
 unresisting in Thy hand. If I am to serve Thee, 
 I must be captivated by Thee. Take my heart 
 captive, O Lord, and it will be free. I speak of 
 my Sunday duties, of my religious responsibilities. 
 These are not the words of love, of the captivated 
 heart. Shall the lark meditate on the duty of its 
 morning song ! Shall the child say, " My father 
 will be angry if I do not ask him for a holiday " ! 
 It is not the sense of ditty I would cultivate ; it is 
 the sense of privilege. Why should my heart be 
 the only creature which does not sing in its 
 element ! Thou art its element, O God ; why 
 does it not sing in Thee ! The lark's element is 
 169 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 the morning, and it trills in the morning. 
 The nightingale's element is the shadow, and 
 it sings in the shadow. The fish's element 
 is the sea, and it leaps in the sea. The ox's 
 element is the meadow, and it browses in the 
 meadow. But I never leap before the Beautiful 
 Gate of my temple, O Lord ; I seek the dirge 
 instead of the dance, the silence instead of the 
 song. When shall I be caught up to meet Thee 
 in the air ? When shall I repair to Thee as the 
 hart repairs to the water-brooks ? When shall I 
 seek Thy tabernacles as the swallow seeks her nest ? 
 When duty shall be merged in love, when law 
 shall melt in privilege, when service shall find that 
 it is free. Jheyi shall the burden fall from the 
 Sabbath day. 
 
 170 
 
THE WAY TO THE ALTAR 
 
 •' Build thou the walls of Jerusalem ! Then shall they offer 
 bullocks upon thine altar." — Psalm li. i8, 19. 
 
 It is when the Jerusalem of the heart is built 
 up that the heart offers its best sacrifice. We are 
 all in a delusion about this matter. We tend to 
 think that the hour of sacrifice is the hour of 
 depression — that we give most when we are most 
 wretched. The psalmists of Israel — the most 
 devotional set of men that ever lived — are of a 
 different opinion. Listen to the writer of the 
 forty-third Psalm: *' O send forth Thy light! 
 then shall I go unto the altar." The world would 
 have said, " Send me Thy cloud ; let it bring me 
 to Thine altar of sacrifice ! " But Israel's singer 
 knows better. He feels that the heart is most 
 ready to outpour itself when it is basking in the 
 sun, that it is most generous where its atmosphere 
 is most genial. And indeed our deepest experience 
 will cry, "Amen!" When do you bring your 
 most precious gifts to the altar ? It is when there 
 is sunshine in your soul. I do not say it is when 
 171 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 there is sunshine before your eyes; the Cross of 
 Calvary would prevent me from saying that. But 
 if you want to offer a perfect sacrifice, you must 
 have sunshine in your soul, Jesus had ; He spoke 
 of His peace, of His joy. The writer to the 
 Hebrews says that He endured the cross and 
 despised the shame " for the joy that was set 
 before Him." The despairing heart is never the 
 sacrificial heart. When the windows of your own 
 spirit are darkened, you cannot look out. You 
 hear not the cry of distress in the street ; you see 
 not the squalor in the lane. You do not seek out 
 cases of need. You give your subscription when 
 you are asked for it, but you give it mechanically — 
 because to refuse costs effort. The coin in the 
 hand of care is thrown down carelessly. Depres- 
 sion cannot work either for self or others. It 
 wants to He still, to be undisturbed. It evades a 
 duty ; it postpones a visit ; it defers a letter ; it 
 delays an engagement ; it declines an invitation ; 
 it resists whatever would force it to open the 
 window. My sacrifice is born of my hope. It is 
 when sitting by my own fire that I feel my 
 brother's cold. If you would bring Jerusalem to 
 the altar, you must first rebuild her walls. 
 
 Lord, it is for sacrifice I want joy. If I ask 
 Thee for prosperity, it is not that I may fare 
 172 
 
The Way to the Altar 
 
 sumptuously every day ; it is that others may fare 
 sumptuously. If I ask Thee for light, it is not 
 that I may bask in the sun ; it is that others may 
 bask there. I would feel my yoke easy and my 
 burden light in order that I may help to their rest 
 the labouring and heavy-laden. Send me not to 
 a brother's sick-bed when my own heart is sick ! 
 Is it not written of the ministering spirits : " These 
 are they that come out of great tribulation " ? 
 Bring me out into the day ere in Thy temple I 
 serve by ni^^ht ! Set my feet in a large room ere 
 I enter within the strait gate of the sorrowful ! 
 Show me the unconsumed bush ere I tread the 
 desert of the lonely ! Give me the grapes of 
 Eshcol ere I visit the wards of the infirmary ! 
 Deck me with flowers of hope ere I sit by the 
 couch in the hospital ! Sing me the songs of Zion 
 ere I meet with the sigh of the sufferer ! I would 
 see my risen Christ before I go into Galilee. I 
 would break the bread before I climb my brother's 
 cross. I would be led by the green pastures and 
 laid by the quiet waters before I am asked to 
 journey in the shadow of another's valley. I shall 
 approach Thine altar of sacrifice when Thou hast 
 rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem. 
 
 T73 
 
THE ILLUMINATING POWER OF THE 
 SHADOW 
 
 " In the shadow of the branches thereof shall they dwell." — 
 EzEK. XVII. 23. 
 
 Why in " the shadow " of the branches ? Why 
 not rest on the branches themselves ? Would not 
 such a foothold be an adequate sense of safety for 
 a human soul ? Yes — too much sense of safety. 
 It is not desirable, even for the pleasures of life, 
 that there should be no memory of shadow. How 
 often we are told that we ought to realise our 
 privileges. What does that mean ? Simply this, 
 that we ought to look at the shadows around us. 
 To realise our privileges is to consider the 
 possibihty of another state of things. It is not 
 every prosperous man that appreciates his 
 prosperity. I think, to appreciate my prosperity 
 I must see a shadow. There is a phrase often 
 used in colloquial language, " You do not know 
 you are born." It is commonly spoken by 
 struggling people to those who are supposed to 
 have no struggle. Well, if there be any who 
 "do not know they are born," they are of all men 
 
 174 
 
The Illuminating Power of the Shadow 
 
 most miserable. They are like guests at a 
 splendid banquet who have no sense of physical 
 taste ; they are like spectators of a lovely scene 
 who have no sense of beauty. If you would teach 
 me my light, you must bring me under the 
 shadow. *' What would you do without her ? " is 
 a question which was once put to me concerning 
 a very near relative. It was the invitation to 
 imagine a shadow. And I think it was the 
 suggestion of that shadow that first wakened me 
 to the worth of my possession. I saw its glory in 
 my imaginary gloom ; I learned its riches by my 
 fancied poverty. And ever shall I bless the day 
 that placed in my sunshine the image of a possible 
 shade. It has made me, not relax — as some would 
 think — but intensify, my hold. It has deepened 
 my sense of the light and my desire to keep it 
 for ever. 
 
 My brother, always carry the shadow beside the 
 glory ! — not to dim the glory, but to make it more 
 dazzling. Not by sunlight canst thou test the 
 value of thy gold; thou must behold it by the 
 shades of evening. At thy warm fire, remember 
 that there are hearths which are cold ! On thy 
 downy bed, remember that many a Jacob has his 
 pillow of stone ! At thine ample board, remember 
 that the beggar Lazarus is still sitting at the gate ! 
 175 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 In thy circle of home affections, remember the 
 Abrahams to whom it is said, " Get thee out of 
 thy country and from thy kindred and from thy 
 father's house " ! Say not that the shadow will 
 obscure the shining; it is the shining that is 
 obscured without the shadow. Thou canst not 
 know thy day but through thy brother's night ; 
 thou canst not hear thy music but through thy 
 brother's silence. Hast thou pondered these 
 words, " At the evening time there shall be 
 light"? When the joys of thy life have become 
 commonplace, walk in thy neighbour's evening ! 
 Dwell in fancy under a sky where these things are 
 absent I Spend an imaginary hour in some garden 
 of withered roses — where thy flowers of every day 
 appear on no day ! Practise the privation of the 
 pleasures thou deemest stale ! Figure thyself 
 without them for a single morning ! Fly from thy 
 familiar mountain to spend a moment in another's 
 valley ! And his fires shall cleanse thy gold ; his 
 clouds shall brighten thy chain ; his evening shall 
 bring thee light. Pity shall fill thee with praise ; 
 compassion shall teach thee thy comforts ; sym- 
 pathy shall make known to thee thy sunbeams. 
 Thou shalt see thy rainbow through a brother's 
 tears ; in the vision of his shadow thou shalt clasp 
 thy joy. 
 
 176 
 
THE EXALTATION OF CHRIST'S 
 SYMBOL 
 
 •• The powers of the heavens shall be shaken ; and then shall 
 appear the sign of the Son of Man in heaven." — Matt. xxiv. 
 29, 30. 
 
 When is Christ's sign to appear in heaven ? 
 Our Lord says it is when " the powers of the 
 heavens shall be shaken " — " Then shall appear 
 the sign of the Son of Man." I take Him to 
 mean that the symbol of Christianity — the Cross — • 
 can only appear when the forces of material power 
 have ceased to be objects of adoration. As long 
 as the crushing powers of matter are looked upon 
 with reverence there is no place for the worship of 
 the Cross. As long as the eye of man is riveted 
 on gigantic masses it will have no glance to spare 
 for so unobtrusive a thing as the strength of self- 
 denial. The Cross may be on earth, but it will 
 not appear in heaven — will not be viewed as one 
 of the sublime things. But when in the mind of 
 the beholder the powers of the heavens shall be 
 
 177 M 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 shaken, when the spectacle of crushing strength 
 shall lose its glory, and the mere height of stature 
 shall cease to be necessarily sublime, then for the 
 first time will be seen the glory of the Son of Man 
 — the glory of stooping, the glory of sacrifice, the 
 glory of self-forgetting love. The shaking need 
 not be an outward one. It is in human estimation 
 that the sun shall be darkened and the stars shall 
 fall. The transition wanted is a mental one — a 
 change of opinion. Many an object which our 
 childhood placed in heaven our manhood locates 
 on earth; many a thing which our childhood 
 deemed on earth our manhood claims for heaven. 
 One of these latter is the Cross of Christ. It 
 seems, to-day, a poor thing. In comparison with 
 the might of battalions and the force of artillery, 
 the still small voice of resolute love appears of 
 little weight. Tut when our estimate of these 
 forces shall be shaken, when materialism shall 
 cease to rule our inward sky, then there shall be 
 a change of government, and the last shall be first. 
 Christ will be glorified. Calvary will be magnified. 
 Pity will be exalted. Mercy will be crowned. 
 Kindness will have a kingdom, tenderness a tiara, 
 sympathy a sceptre, love a laudation — in the day 
 when in the heart the powers of the heavens shall 
 be shaken. 
 
 178 
 
The Exaltation of Christ's Symbol 
 
 Hasten, O Lord, that bright and happy morn ! 
 I have been seeking in the heavens a purely 
 physical glory. I have been saying, " When I 
 consider the heavens, what is man ! " I have seen 
 in the sky other signs than the Cross. I have seen 
 Mars — the symbol of war, Mercury — the symbol 
 of speed, Venus — the symbol of physical beauty, 
 Jupiter — the symbol of the lightning, Neptune — 
 the symbol of the fathomless sea. I have 
 christened no star by the name of the Cross. 
 Why ? Because I have thought the Cross unfit 
 for heaven. I have heard no voice say of the 
 sacrificial soul, "I go to the heavenly mansions to 
 prepare a place for thee." I have figured war in 
 heaven, I have figured beauty in heaven, I have 
 figured wings of speed in heaven, I have figured 
 fathomless depths in heaven, I have figured 
 lightning flashes of truth in heaven ; but I have 
 thought sacrifice a sign of earthly weakness. 
 Reverse the judgment of my heart, O Lord ! 
 Show me the strength of the Lamb ! Teach me 
 the power of love ! Reveal to me the heroism of 
 sacrifice ! Inspire me with the greatness of being 
 gentle ! Tell me the treasures of the unselfish 
 soul ! Put a crown upon the head of the crucified ! 
 Proclaim to me that the Christ in the manger is 
 worthy of a star ! Then shall I believe that 
 179 M 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 heaven itself holds Thy Cross Then to me shall 
 the world of spirits be a world of ministration. 
 When I have magnified the work of humanity on 
 earth, I shall discern in the sky the sign of the 
 Son of Man. 
 
 i8o 
 
THE UNHOLY PRAYER 
 
 "They oegan to pray Him to depart out of their coasts." 
 — Mark v. 17. 
 
 I THINK this the most unique specimen of prayer 
 which is to be found in the Bible — perhaps the most 
 unique specimen which is to be found anywhere. 
 We are famihar with the prayerless lives of the 
 ungodly. We are familiar with the prayerful 
 lives of the holy. But that prayer should be a 
 weapon of the unholy — this is a startling thing. 
 Imagine a congregation assembled in their place 
 of worship. Imagine that in solemn silence every 
 knee is bent and every head bowed in reverent 
 expectation of the preacher's orison. Imagine 
 that through the great stillness the voice that 
 came was this : " O Christ, Thou Son of God, we 
 come this day before Thy Divine Throne to 
 beseech Thee that Thou wouldst be absent from 
 our meeting. We fear Thy presence exceedingly. 
 We find it a drag upon our lives. It forces us to 
 181 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 do what we do not wish to do. It makes us 
 submit to painful sacrifices. We feel that we 
 should be richer men, more prosperous men, 
 without Thee. We should have more liberty to 
 cheat and steal, more freedom to appropriate what 
 is not our own. In Thine absence is fulness of 
 joy ; in the withdrawal of Thy right hand there are 
 pleasures for evermore; depart from us, O Lord! " 
 What a dramatic thrill of horror would run 
 through the audience ! It would be a far greater 
 horror than if the speaker had proclaimed himself 
 an atheist. Discords are always disagreeable ; 
 but they are specially so when they are made by a 
 musical instrument. To fight against God by 
 blasphemy is a dreadful thing ; but to fight against 
 God by prayer — that seems a thing almost 
 inconceivable. Yet this latter is what was done 
 by the men here spoken of; they breathed discord 
 through a musical instrument. They came to 
 Christ with a real supplication, a sincere supplica- 
 tion, an honest supplication. There was no 
 hypocrisy about it; there lay its sting. It 
 acknowledged Christ, it acknowledged the power 
 of Christ, it acknowledged the character of Christ, 
 it approached Christ on the basis of His character; 
 and with all the forms of devoutness it besought 
 Him to depart. 
 
 182 
 
The Unholy Prayer 
 
 My brother, take heed to that for which thou 
 prayest ! — there Hes the difference between the 
 pious and the impious mind. It is not thy pray- 
 ing that makes thee good — not even thy sincerity 
 in prayer. It is not thy sense of want that 
 makes thee good — not even though expressed in 
 abjectness. It is not thy feehng of dependence that 
 makes thee good — not even thy feehng of depen- 
 dence on Christ. It is the thing for which thou 
 prayest, the thing for which thou hungerest, the 
 thing for which thou dependest. Every man cries 
 for his grapes of Eshcol ; the difference is not in the 
 cry, but in the grapes. It is possible for thee to 
 ask from thy God three manner of things. Thou 
 mayst ask thy neighbour's vineyard — that is bad. 
 Thou mayst ask thine own riches — that is neither 
 bad nor good ; it is secular. Or thou mayst ask 
 to be made unselfish — that is holy. It is not thy 
 prayer that thy Father prizes ; it is the direction 
 of thy prayer. Dost thou deem thy child a hero 
 because he asks thee for a holiday ! Nay, though 
 he sought it sorrowing and with tears. But if he 
 asks thee to let him share his joy with a brother 
 or sister, then thou art exceeding glad, then 
 thou sayest, " Thou art my son ; this day have 
 I begotten thee ! " So with thy Father. He 
 waits till thou criest for a crown — till thou 
 183 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 prayest for His presence, longest for His 
 light, sighest for His song, hungerest for His 
 home, faintest for his footfall, callest for His 
 company, tarriest for His tread, seekest for the 
 sign of His coming. That will be thy Father's 
 highest joy. 
 
 184 
 
THE ADVANTAGE OF AFFLICTION 
 
 " Moab hath been at ease from his youth, and he hath 
 settled on his lees, and hath not been emptied from vessel 
 to vessel, neither hath he gone into captivity ; therefore his 
 taste remaineth in him." — Jer. xlviii. ii. 
 
 This is an extraordinary passage — so extra- 
 ordinary that if uttered in social life it would be 
 deemed a jest. It is quite a common thing to 
 hear people say, ** I pity the poor creature ! he 
 is greatly afflicted." But what should we think if 
 we heard one say, '* I pity the poor creature ! his 
 life has been an unclouded sunshine " ? That is 
 what this passage says. It is a striking statement 
 for any man to make, specially striking for a Jew. 
 The son of Israel was by nature a son of the morn- 
 ing. He delighted in prosperity; he rejoiced in 
 the fruits of the land. Yet, it is a scion of this 
 race who utters the words before us — who com- 
 miserates the lot of one that has only seen the 
 flowers. I remember some years ago reading a 
 pamphlet of a very exceptional kind, both in sub- 
 ject and ability. It was written by a girl who was 
 a chronic invalid. It was addressed to her fellow- 
 invalids, and it purported to be an appeal for 
 1B5 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 charity towards those who enjoyed unbroken 
 health — an appeal grounded on the statement 
 that such a condition involved want. Now, that 
 is just the burden of Jeremiah's present song. Its 
 subject is, " The disadvantage of unbroken pros- 
 perity." He bemoans the fate of one who has 
 never "gone into captivity." He bemoans such 
 a fate on the ground that it gives one a monotonous 
 experience, " His taste remaineth in him." It is 
 not said that the man has a bad taste ; the whole 
 stress of the evil is laid on the monotony. 
 Jeremiah says that want of suffering produces 
 want of sympathy, and that want of sympathy 
 is want of variety. He feels as sad in beholding 
 a man without sympathy as in beholding a man 
 without sight. As he laments in the one the 
 absence of light, so he laments in the other 
 the absence of shade. For the man without sight 
 he would pray, *' Send forth Thy sunshine ! " but 
 for the man without sympathy he would cry, 
 " Send forth the shadow of Thy wing ! " There 
 is an eye which can only be restored in the night, 
 which needs the cloiid to make it clear. It must 
 be created at evening-time. It is born of pain — 
 wakened by the wind, wafted by the wave, fostered 
 by the fire, cradled by the cross. That eye is 
 sympathy. 
 
 1 86 
 
The Advantage of Affliction 
 
 Lord, make the clouds my chariots ! I *' fear " 
 as I "enter into the cloud" as Thy disciples feared 
 upon the mount. It seems to curtail my moun- 
 tain view, to limit my prospect, to narrow the 
 range of my vision. My ideal of glory has been to 
 build a perpetual tabernacle amid the dazzling 
 light. Teach me that this would be the curtailment, 
 this the narrowing ! Teach me that I never do get 
 a mountain view of humanity till I have entered 
 into the cloud ! I think I understand why it was 
 that Israel had a pillar of cloud by day. She was 
 travelling to meet universal Man, and she could 
 only meet universal Man under a cloud. We are 
 not united by the sunshine ; we come not together 
 in the tabernacles on the hill. It is Thy cloud 
 that makes us one, O Lord ! The rich and the 
 poor have not all the same pleasures; but they 
 have all the same pains. By their pains Thou 
 hast united them. Thou hast linked our brother- 
 hood in the hunger of the heart. Our wings are 
 silver, but our chains are golden. It is by my 
 fetters that I can fly ; it is by my sorrows that I 
 can soar ; it is by my reverses that I can run ; it 
 is by my tears that I can travel ; it is by m.y cross 
 that I can climb into the heart of humanity. Let 
 me magnify my cross, O Lord 1 
 
 187 
 
THE EARLIEST CHRISTIAN WONDER 
 
 "His disciples marvelled that He talked with a woman," 
 — John iv. 27. 
 
 Christianity is the only faith which has found 
 a place for woman. India consigned her to the 
 zenanas ; it had no sphere for her amid its castes. 
 It had a sphere for the clergyman, a sphere for 
 the military man, a sphere for the man of com- 
 merce ; but it never said to the woman, " I go to 
 prepare a place for you." Greece had no mansion 
 for her. Its mansions were for the men of physical 
 prowess ; it crowned the sons of battle and the 
 heroes of fame. Judah had no mission for her. It 
 had patriarchs for the family ; it had kings for the 
 nation ; it had priests for the sanctuary ; it had 
 lawyers for the forum ; it had masters for the 
 school ; it had profits for the individual soul. But 
 it had no province for the woman. It is no wonder 
 that the disciples marvelled at Christianity. It is 
 the earliest marvel at Christianity ever recorded. 
 The little band of Christ's followers had seen the 
 wonders of Jordan, the wonders of Cana, the 
 188 
 
The Earliest Christian Wonder 
 
 wonders of the cleansed temple ; but I do not read 
 that they marvelled. They expected great things of 
 Christ. But they did not expect small things of 
 Christ ; and here they found what seemed a small 
 thing. Their wonder was at the Christ stooping. 
 They saw the new religion do what no old religion 
 had ever done — reveal itself to those deemed the 
 weak ones of creation. Woman was the creature 
 of emotion, and all emotion was held weak. Desire 
 was esteemed a thing to be crucified before 
 approaching God. The Brahman crucified it by 
 sacrifice ; the Buddhist crucified it by will ; the 
 Greek crucified it by stoicism ; the Jew crucified 
 it by the exclusive contemplation of law. But the 
 woman cried out for a response to her love. It was 
 a voice crying in the wilderness — crying alone. 
 The world laughed and jeered — but the voice cried 
 still. A hundred altars proclaimed, ** Ye who 
 worship, extinguish your desires ! " — but the 
 voice cried still. Derision could not drown it; 
 contempt could not conquer it ; solitude could not 
 silence it — it filled the air with its plaints for 
 replenishment. And then Christ came. He met 
 Woman at the well. She had wandered thither 
 through many lands. She had thirsted by the 
 Ganges, she had been parched in the streets of 
 Athens, she had panted even on the banks of 
 189 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 Jordan ; but she was refreshed at last beside 
 Samaria's well. 
 
 Lord, Thy disciples will no more marvel at this 
 unique communion. We have learned now that 
 it was the thing religion waited for. We all 
 despised feeling ; we thought that the worshipper 
 should empty his heart before offering it to Thee. 
 And so we crushed out emotion and the woman- 
 hood that represented it. We put our sister in 
 the zenanas ; we treated her as a fallen thing. She 
 had too much of the human and we wanted our 
 religion to "get rid" of hum:'nity. But in the 
 fulness of time Thou camest — with a human soul 
 thirsting for human love. Thou camest, and we 
 heard the cry, "Give Me to drink!" Could an 
 impoverished heart answer that cry ? Could a 
 heart that had emptied out its feeling respond to 
 Thy prayer for human love ? No ; only the 
 feminine nature which we had crucified could 
 do that. We had to fall back upon our lost spirit 
 of womanhood. We had to open the zenanas and set 
 our sister free. Nay, we had to make the sister 
 our type for evermore. It is always a woman's 
 heart that must now meet Thee at the well. No 
 more with mutilated bodies do we come ; we leave 
 that to India. No more with suppressed feelings 
 draw we near ; we leave that to Greece. No more 
 I go 
 
The Earliest Christian Wonder 
 
 with religious fasting do we approach ; we leave 
 that to Judah. We bring Thee all our beauty. 
 We give Thee all our gold. We send Thee all 
 our sunshine. We bring our pain to Thy passion, 
 our rapture to Thy rising, our transport to Thy 
 triumph. We trim our lamps to meet Thee ; we 
 strew our flowers to greet Thee ; we tune our 
 voices to entreat Thee. It is with the gush 
 of a woman's soul we salute Thee at the well. 
 
 191 
 
A NEW ORDER OF NOBILITY 
 
 "Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed 
 upon us, that we should be called the sons of God."— 
 I John hi. i. 
 
 A PARAPHRASE familiar to Scottish Churches has 
 thus rendered this passage : — 
 
 *' Behold the amazing gift of love 
 The Father hath bestowed 
 On us, the sinful sons of men, 
 To call us sons of God ! " 
 
 Of course, the sentiment is quite true ; but I do 
 not think it is the sentiment of this verse. I think 
 the amazing feature in the eye of the apostle is not 
 the recognition of sinful beings, but the recognition 
 of beings with a particular kind of virtue. I under- 
 stand him to mean : " What an amazing thing it 
 is that we, of all men, should be called sons of 
 God — we Christians, whose qualities are the 
 unobtrusive ones of patience, of meekness, of 
 humility, of peacemaking ! " And there was 
 ground for such wonder. The name " sons of 
 God " used to be applied very differently. It 
 was applied to the stars, because they werq 
 
A New Order of Nobility 
 
 brilliant and set far above the trammels of earth. 
 It was applied to forms of gigantic strength, 
 because it was deemed greater to be a giant 
 than to be a genius. It was applied to the 
 winners of battles and the conquerors of king- 
 doms, because the highest victories of man were 
 thought to lie in the physical. But nobody 
 dreamed of applying the name to unrepining 
 invalids, to silent burden-bearers, to patient 
 sufferers, to uncomplaining victims of sacrifice, 
 to those who refrained from reviling and those 
 who worked without reward. It was reserved 
 for Christ to do that. And John says this 
 reveals a new manner of Divine love. It was 
 thought of old that the interest of heaven was 
 centred on earth's mountains — on her places pro- 
 minent to the eye. I looked at the stars and said, 
 " What is man ! " — I looked at ordinary men and 
 said, *' What are these to the making of history ; 
 surely God's providence marks not such humble 
 lives ! " But Christ takes me to a child in the 
 nursery and says, " That is the making of history ; 
 on the moulding of that depends the fate of 
 nations ! " God's eye is not on the mountains, 
 but on the valleys. It is the silent virtues that 
 make the kingdom. Our Father seeth in secret 
 because the great things are in secret. The objects 
 193 N 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 of God's interest are below the sea. His heroes 
 are beneath the cloud. His mighty ones are mov- 
 ing noiselessly. His great events are happening 
 underground; His armies are unseen. 
 
 My Father, I should like to read Thy book of 
 life. Thou art now writing Thy book of life — 
 Thy record of human history. When it appears, 
 it will be the final judgment — the ultimate verdict 
 on men and things. It will reverse all previous 
 verdicts ; many of the actors whom we put first 
 shall be last and many whom we put last shall be 
 first. The heroes of Thy history will be those 
 never heard of before. They will not be the 
 Alexanders, the Caesars, the Napoleons. They 
 will be some of their unknown ancestors who 
 toiled without groaning, spun without tiring, bore 
 without sinking, endured without dying, and 
 handed down to posterity their soldier-like yet 
 unseen courage. When Thy book is opened I 
 shall learn a strange story. I shall read a new 
 list of the great. No more shall kings appear in 
 the van, no more shall warriors stand in the front. 
 It will be the streams, not the rivers, that will be 
 found to have made glad Thy city. It will be the 
 good mother in the nursery, the frugal father at 
 the plough, the serving sister in the home, the 
 heroic sufferer on the bed, the earnest teacher in 
 194 
 
A New Order of Nobility 
 
 the school, the interested master in the office, the 
 prudent companion at the board, the sympathising 
 comforter in the sorrow. It will be Moses not on 
 Sinai but in the desert, Elijah not on Carmel but 
 in the cave, Abraham not in Egypt but on Moriah, 
 John not at Jerusalem but in Patmos, Paul not in 
 his strength but in his blindness. I shall learn in 
 the book of Thy remembrance that it is our 
 moments of obscurity that have made us " sons 
 of God." 
 
 195 N2 
 
THE SPIRITUAL USE OF WORLDLY 
 EXPERIENCE 
 
 "Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw Simon called 
 Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea: 
 for they were fishers. And He saith unto them, Follow 
 me." — Matt. iv. i8, 19. 
 
 This is not the first call to Peter and Andrew. 
 They had been already called to conversion ; they 
 are now called to the ministry. Why did not 
 Jesus elect them to the ministry at once? He 
 had made them His disciples when very young 
 men in the wilderness of Judaea. Would not this 
 have been the time to ordain them — to give them 
 a premonition of their coming glory? Why allow 
 the scene of rapture to fade into the light of com- 
 mon day ? These young men had at first been 
 caught up to meet their Lord in the air. They 
 had been raised to a height of exaltation ; they 
 had gazed upon the beatific vision ; they had seen 
 the face of the only-begotten Son of God. Why 
 bring them down again into the coarse life of the 
 world ? It would have seemed all right if the 
 world had been the destined sphere of their 
 196 
 
The Spiritual Use of Worldly Experience 
 
 religious life. But it was not. They were intended 
 
 to be preachers, to stand upon the mount and 
 
 bless the people. Why, then, not Hft them to the 
 
 mount in a moment ? Why permit them to go 
 
 back from the solemn wilderness into the routine 
 
 of secular work — into the sphere of the boat-hirer 
 
 and the net-mender and the fish-catcher ? Was 
 
 not the stage between the first and the second call 
 
 a waste of time ? No, my brother, God's work is 
 
 never arrested even where it seems to be. Do 
 
 you think it was an accident that after their lofty 
 
 flight in the wilderness Peter and Andrew were 
 
 sent down to the sea to be fishermen ? I tell you 
 
 it was a part of the coming call. God does not 
 
 want His preachers to be untaught in the present 
 
 world. He wants them to know something of 
 
 human need and human toil. The fisherman's 
 
 life was such a knowledge ; it was the satisfaction 
 
 of the cry for bread. If the redemption of the soul 
 
 did not include the resurrection of the body, our 
 
 preachers could be trained in the wilderness. But 
 
 it does. Therefore in the training of the preacher, 
 
 yea, in the training of the Christian, God has 
 
 ordained a drop from the primitive height ot 
 
 exaltation, a drop into the sea of human trouble 
 
 — into the knowledge of human need, human 
 
 want, human toil, human care, human doubt and 
 
 197 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 perplexity ; the first flight into the air must be 
 followed by a plunge into the sea. 
 
 Lord, there have been few moments that have 
 so much disappointed me as my first religious 
 moments. I can remember how on some golden 
 morning I saw the heavens opened and heard the 
 angels sing. I stood upon the mount and looked 
 down, and the things below seemed as grass- 
 hoppers. Earth faded into nothingness before 
 me, and I wondered it was a matter of human 
 care. I proposed, like Thy disciples, to build my 
 tabernacle on high — above the sound of the waves, 
 above the friction of the crowd. Suddenly, a 
 cloud came and the glory vanished. I was swept 
 down the hill by an earthly blast — down to the 
 conflict with the storm, down to the waves of the 
 sea. And I cried, " To what purpose is this waste ; 
 why bring me from the calm sky to the rough 
 ocean ? " But now, O Lord, I have received 
 Thine answer. It is because Thou desirest the 
 bridal of the sea and sky. Thou wouldst not 
 send me on an earthly mission with an un- 
 earthly heart. Thou wouldst not send me to 
 Galilee without tasting toil, to Samaria without 
 sympathy for the slighted. Thou wouldst not 
 send me to quell temptations I had never known. 
 Could I dare to rebuke a brother's passion if my 
 
The Spiritual Use of Worldly Experience 
 
 own heart were passionless ! Could I dare to 
 reprove a sister's temper if my own soul were 
 frigid ! Could I blame without knowing the blast ! 
 Could I condemn without feeling the conflict ! 
 Could I judge the sinner without the sense of his 
 struggle ! I thank Thee, O Lord, that Thou didst 
 not send me on my mission in my first enraptured 
 moment. I thank Thee that I was brought down 
 to Jacob's wrestling-ground. I thank Thee that 
 I entered on my mission with a shrunk sinew — a 
 sense of human weakness. I can meet Thee in the 
 rapture of an upward flight ; but I can only meet 
 my brother in the tossing of an earthly sea. 
 
 199 
 
A NEGLECTED SIDE OF SYMPATHY 
 
 "His disciples prayed Him, saying, Master, eat."— 
 John iv. 31. 
 
 This I regard as the type of a very peculiar 
 kind of prayer — the prayer expressing soHcitude, 
 not for our own welfare, but for the welfare of the 
 Divine Being whom we supplicate. The great 
 mass of petitions addressed to Jesus in the gospels 
 are petitions for our own comfort — for the healing 
 of disease, the recovery of sick friends, the pardon 
 of personal sins, and the like. But this is a prayer 
 of the disciples, not for themselves or their 
 belongings, but for Christ ! They are anxious for 
 His outward comfort, for His physical well-being, 
 for the supply of His daily bread. The only 
 prayer in the gospels which I interpret in the 
 same way is the request of the men on the road 
 to Emmaus: "Abide with us, for it is toward 
 evening and the day is far spent." I think, spite 
 of the popular hymn and spite of the undoubted 
 truth of its sentiment, their solicitude was not for 
 themselves, but for Jesus. I think they wished 
 200 
 
A Neglected Side of Sympathy 
 
 Him to find rest after the burden and heat of the 
 day and to avoid the darkening shadows which 
 presaged the coming night. Be this as it may, in 
 the passage before us there never could be a doubt 
 of the interpretation ; it is a cry to Christ for 
 Christ: '* Master, eat." Angels ministered to Him 
 in the wilderness ; but men ministered to Him in 
 Samaria. The human ministry took the form of 
 prayer — the prayer for His sustenance. I think 
 this prayer must have been very dear to Jesus. 
 Gold is precious because it is rare. This form of 
 petition was also rare, is still rare. The mines 
 of the human heart have seldom yielded such a 
 treasure. Our habitual cry is, *' Provide for our 
 human wants, O Lord ! " I do not mean that we 
 are purely selfish ; we often pray for the satisfaction 
 of needs not individually our own. But it rarely 
 strikes us that these needs are shared by the 
 Divine, We often beseech a human friend to take 
 care of himself, to watch his own interests ; but 
 we seldom say to the Father, '* May Thy interests 
 prosper, may Thy desires be fulfilled ! " We forget 
 that God, too, has a want — the craving of an 
 infinite love. We forget that it is God who says 
 to man, and not man who says to God, '* Behold, 
 I stand at the door and knock." We forget that 
 the very infinitude of Divine Love deepens its 
 
 20I 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 hunger. There is a need which can only be felt by 
 the Divine heart. A smaller heart can be satisfied; 
 but the boundless ocean of the Father's love has 
 found no bay in which to rest its waters. 
 
 Lord, in my prayers let me remember Thee ! 
 Let me remember that the well of Samaria cannot 
 fill Thy thirst — that the demand of Thy heart 
 exceeds its sources of supply ! I pray a hundred 
 times for the satisfaction of my desires; have I 
 ever breathed a wish for the satisfaction of Thine ! 
 I have borne in my memory my human brothers 
 who are waiting round the well — those whom I 
 call the objects of charity, those who have been 
 denied the use of the earthly streams. But I 
 have not realised that Thou, too, art waiting at 
 the well. I have not borne in my memory the 
 wants of the Divine. I have not carried in my 
 sympathy the unsatisfied hunger of my God. I 
 have heard the children's cry for bread, but not 
 the Father's cry for fellowship. I have heard the 
 suppliant knocking at my door, but not Thine 
 entreaty knocking at my heart. I have begun to 
 learn that what I call humanitarian sympathy 
 stretches down to the beast of the field, but it has 
 hardly dawned on me that it should also stretch 
 up to heaven. Send me the dawn of that light, O 
 Lord ! Help me to frame golden wishes for Thee ! 
 
 202 
 
A Neglected Side of Sympathy 
 
 Make me glad when Thou art glorified, sad when 
 Thou art stained ! Make me jubilant in Thy joy, 
 transported in Thy triumph, proud when Thou 
 art praised, blest when Thou art beautified, happy 
 when Thou art heralded, light-hearted when Thou 
 art loved, cheered when Thou art cherished, radiant 
 when Thou hast found Thy day of rest! My 
 heart will reach its summer by its entrance into 
 Thy joy. 
 
 203 
 
THE DUTY OF JOYFULNESS 
 
 "Let all those that put their trust in Thee rejoice; let them 
 ever shout for joy." — Ps. v. ii. 
 
 These words were not so much a promise as a 
 command. I understand them to mean, " It is 
 the duty of behevers not only to be happy but to 
 reveal their happiness " — not only to " rejoice *' 
 but to " slioiit for joy." Gladness is here regarded 
 not merely as a privilege, but as a duty. The 
 idea is that a mournful religion is unfitted to 
 attract. The psalmist wants God to have many 
 votaries. He is annoyed at the fact that men 
 deem the world to have the monopoly of joy. He 
 calls upon believers to counteract that impression. 
 He says : " Ye who love God, do not let the 
 world think that your love has made you miser- 
 able. Do not hide your roses. Do not still your 
 laughter. Do not abate your entertainments. 
 Do not lessen the number of your friends. Let 
 not your garments be less gay ; drop not a note 
 from your songs. The world may say you are 
 inconsistent ; but in truth you alone will be con- 
 204 
 
The Duty of Joyfulness 
 
 sistent. In whom is it consistent to adorn the 
 body ? Is it in those who think it is to perish in 
 a night ? No ; gay attire is only justified by the 
 beHef in resurrection. In whom is it consistent 
 to enjoy the passing hour ? Is it in those who 
 think it will never come back ? No ; lost joys 
 should ever make us sad ; the half of every 
 pleasure is the hope that it will endure. In whom 
 is it consistent to be interested in trifles ? Is it in 
 those who ignore the infinite ? No ; interest in 
 trifles should belong to him with whom trifles are 
 part of the infinite. In whom is it consistent to 
 bask in human love ? Is it in those who hold 
 that the heart is a bit of mechanism which is set 
 in motion in the morning and stopped at night ? 
 No ; such should forbid themselves to love ; the 
 heart is no perfect paradise to him who hears the 
 message, " Thou shalt surely die." And the 
 psalmist is right. I am told that the man of God 
 gets an entrance into a higher than earthly joy. 
 Doubtless. But I do not see that even earthly 
 joy is consistent with the absence of God. It 
 seems to me that the world, like primeval Adam, 
 has stolen God's apples and put them in its own 
 vineyard. The tree of life is His as well as the 
 tree of knowledge. The rivers are His, and the 
 gold, and the dressing of flowers, and the walk in 
 205 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 the cool of the day. It is written, '* Enter ye into 
 the joy of your Lord " ; but the joy of my Lord 
 includes the joys of man. 
 
 Lord, many there be that try to show they are 
 Thy people by showing their tears; but I say 
 with Thy psalmist, " Let all those that put their 
 trust in Thee rejoice." How shall I tempt the 
 world to bathe in Thine infinite sea, if I myself am 
 seen standing in the shallows and shivering with 
 the cold ? Who will believe in the ocean of Thy 
 love if the ships that sail thereon have lowered 
 their flag in sign of mourning? If men see the 
 inhabitants of Thy heaven arrayed in black robes, 
 will they not justly say, " These are they that to 
 this hour are in great tribulation " ? Do not let 
 them wear black robes, O my Father! For all 
 that have come out from the far country, bring 
 forth the bright garments ! Clothe them in white, 
 deck them in jewels, greet them with feasting, 
 surround them with music and dancing ; teach 
 them that, for a converted man, it is good to make 
 merry and be glad ! Turn all eyes that wait on 
 Thee to the rising sun ; may light be sown for 
 the righteous and joy for the upright in heart ! 
 May Thy beauty make us buoyant ; may Thy 
 grace make us gladsome ; may Thy kindness make 
 us kinsmen ; may Thy sympathy make us social ; 
 206 
 
The Duty of Joyfulness 
 
 may Thy forgiveness mcJke us fellows; may Thy 
 charity make us cheerful ; may Thy love make us 
 light-hearted ; may the faith in Thy truth make 
 us free from trembling ! Let all w^ho trust in 
 Thee unfurl their flag of rejoicing 1 
 
 207 
 
THE POWER OF OPTIMISM 
 
 ••God hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness abovtt 
 thy fellows." — Ps. xlv. 7. 
 
 These words, as the writer to the Hebrews 
 affirms, were spoken of the coming Messiah. Do 
 they suit the Messiah who has actually come ? 
 Anointed with the oil of gladness ! Is He not 
 proverbially the man of sorrows ? Was not His 
 anointing on the banks of Jordan a call to pain, 
 the inauguration of a sacrificial work foreshadowed 
 in the words, " Behold the Lamb of God " ? Are 
 we to transform our ideal from a man of sorrows 
 into a man of joys — from the image of one who 
 was more marred than the sons of men into the 
 image of one who was distinguished from the sons 
 of men by his gladness ? It seems a wondrous 
 revolution of sentiment. But is it ? Is there a 
 contradiction between an optimistic mind and a 
 sacrificial mind ? I think not. I believe it was 
 the optimism of Jesus that made Him sacrificial. 
 If you ask me what enabled Him to pour out His 
 soul unto death, I can only answer, " It was the 
 glad view He took of humanity." You will find 
 208 
 
The Power of Optimism 
 
 in your experience that the optimistic nature is 
 the sacrificing nature. You spend yourself for a 
 cause in proportion as you have a gladdening 
 prospect of its success. When we speak of Christ 
 as bearing the burdens of His fellow men, we 
 must never forget that it was because He was of 
 all beings the most hopeful for man's glory. He 
 gave His life for the world because none had so 
 rosy a view of the world's possibilities. He was 
 led on to Calvary by the vision of gladness that 
 floated before Him — the vision of a redeemed 
 humanity. No one had sacrificed so much before, 
 because no one had hoped so much before. Christ 
 is the prince of optimists. *' While there is life 
 there is hope " is the aphorism of the most san- 
 guine amongst us. Christ goes beyond that ; He 
 has hope even for the dead. There have been 
 men who have healed diseases on the highway ; 
 there have been men even who have sought the 
 living lepers amid the tombs. But Christ bent 
 without despair over the very dead — over the 
 Lazaruses, over the sons of Nain, over the 
 daughters of Jairus. That meant a singularly 
 glad spirit — a spirit so naturally sunlit, so 
 habitually joyous, so prone to the song of the 
 lark, that the spectacle of lifelessness itself could 
 not dispel its morning. 
 
 209 O 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 Lord, if I am to do Thy work, inspire me with 
 Thine optimism ! I cannot enter on my ministry 
 if I am impressed with the utter hopelessness of 
 the human soul, with the utter worthlessness of 
 the human body. If I am to watch in the Geth- 
 semane of the sick, I must have a heart not too 
 heavy. I have read that Thy disciples in that 
 ward were " sleeping for sorrow." I used to 
 wonder at the expression ; but I see it all now. 
 They could not watch with Thee because they had 
 no hope of Thee — they despaired of Thy cause. 
 If I am to be kept from sleeping on duty my eyes 
 must be anointed with the oil of gladness. Anoint 
 with hope, O Lord, the eyes of all that work for 
 Thee ! Anoint those that tend the couch of pain ; 
 give them the vision, not of death, but of life ! 
 Anoint those who seek to redeem from sin ; give 
 them a vision of the white-robed throng ! Anoint 
 those who visit the homes of the bereaved ; give 
 them the vision of the things that cannot die 1 
 Anoint those that knock at the dwellings of the 
 poor ; give them a vision of the poverty that made 
 us rich ! Anoint those who labour in heathen 
 lands ; give them a vision of the many mansions ! 
 Anoint those who are teachers of the young ; give 
 them a vision of the full-grown man ! Anoint 
 those who are personal sufferers ; give them the 
 
 2IO 
 
The Power of Optimism 
 
 vision that they are preparing to be ministering 
 spirits in the kingdom of their Father ! Not 
 solemnity but sunshine, not heaviness but happi- 
 ness, not the weight of reflection but the wing of 
 rapture, is the preparation of those who are called 
 to follow Thee. 
 
 211 O 2 
 
THE SEAT OF THE WORLDLY LIFE 
 
 "If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not 
 in him." — i John ii. 15. 
 
 To the mind of St. John the darkest shadow of 
 the human soul is worldliness. Perhaps each of us 
 has a special aversion to some special form of sin, 
 Matthew, Mark and Luke emphasise the horror of 
 blasphemy. Paul lays stress on the danger of 
 unbelief. James is impressed with the evil of 
 idle hands. But John has a special aversion to 
 worldliness. Why ? I take the reason to be that 
 he himself had been specially bitten by that form of 
 sin. John had started on the race of Hfe under the 
 impulse of personal ambition. So intense had been 
 that ambition that it had suffused even his religion. 
 He had asked for a front seat in the kingdom of 
 heaven — a seat beside the Lord where he would 
 have a monopoly of the Divine Presence. He had 
 now come to see that this seeming piety was 
 extreme worldliness. And why was it worldliness ? 
 Because he was too fond of the society of his brother 
 212 
 
The Seat of the Worldly Life 
 
 man ? Exactly the reverse — because he was not 
 fond enough of that society. John's error lay in 
 forgetting the claims of his brother man — in wish- 
 ing to be alone in his glory. If he had asked that 
 the front seat might be extended so that there 
 might be room for everybody, it would have been 
 all right. But to desire a monopoly of God, to 
 seek an exclusive access to the audience-chamber 
 of the King s Son, this was a breach of brotherhood, 
 and therefore this was worldliness. And that is 
 the reason why John says, *' If any man love the 
 world, the love of the Father is not in him." He 
 means that there can be no sense of fatherhood 
 where there is no sense of brotherhood. If world- 
 liness signified anything else than unsociability, 
 there would be no meaning in the statement. If to 
 be unworldly means to be a hermit, why should it 
 indicate the love of God — why should it indicate 
 any love at all ? But if to be unworldly means to 
 be no hermit, if to be unworldly means to be social, 
 if to be unworldly means to have a right hand of 
 fellowship for our brother man, I can understand 
 why it prepares for my love of God. He that loves 
 the brother whom he hath seen is ripening for 
 devotion to that common Father whom as yet he 
 hath not seen. 
 
 Lord, let me not think that the world is a place I 
 
 213 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 That would lead me to underrate my difficulties. 
 If the world were any particular place, I could easily 
 get rid of it. If it were a theatre or a ball-room or a 
 garden-party, I could soon take the wings of a dove 
 and flee away and be at rest. But the world is 
 none of these things — the world is within me. I 
 can carry it about to any place, and the place to 
 which I carry it immediately becomes worldly. 
 Teach me this truth, O Lord ! Teach me that, 
 wherever I think of myself alone, that spot is the 
 world ! Teach me by the lesson of Thy disciple that 
 I can make my thought of heaven itself a worldly 
 thought ! Remind me ever that his most mundane 
 moment was his vision of paradise — his vision of 
 Thy heaven as a place where he was to stand 
 in advance of all men ! Impress me with the 
 knowledge that I am not to be driven out of the 
 world, but that I am to drive the world out of 
 me I Help me to expel it from my own heart ! 
 Reveal to me that to find Thy rest I need no 
 wings of a dove, no flight from the common 
 haunts of men ! Crucify the image of my own 
 soul, and I shall hear Thy voice saying, " Go 
 where thou wilt." Drive out the selfish man from 
 the garden of my heart, and there will be no need 
 to remove me from the tree. Create a clean spirit 
 within me, and I shall not fear to live in unclean 
 214 
 
The Seat of the Worldly Life 
 
 streets. Bathe myself in Jordan's stream, and the 
 wilderness of Judaea and the wedding of Cana will 
 to me be alike unworldly ; for alike in the wilder- 
 ness and at the wedding I shall think of the 
 brotherhood of man. 
 
 215 
 
THE SPECIALLY REPROBATED OLD 
 TESTAMENT SIN 
 
 "The covetous renounceth the Lord." — Ps. x. 3 (R.V.). 
 
 This is the strongest language ever used by the 
 Old Testament of any sin. At first one is surprised 
 that of this particular sin such language should be 
 used. Covetousness seems a trivial fault. It is 
 not a heresy ; it is not a blasphemy ; it is not a 
 positive hurt to others ; it is simply a disease of the 
 individual soul. Yet I do not know of any sin to 
 which the Old Testament attaches such a stigma. 
 "The covetous renounceth the Lord." You will 
 observe, it is not said, " The Lord renounceth the 
 covetous " ; the renunciation is on the human side 
 — on the side of the covetous man himself. A 
 greater stigma could not be attached to any sin. 
 Many a heretic longs for God ; many an agnostic 
 thirsts for God ; many a blasphemer speaks in an 
 hour of madness what is not the voice of his sober 
 mind. But to renounce God, to calmly refuse His 
 advances, to repudiate His fellowship, to shut the 
 door deliberately against Him — this is the acme of 
 216 
 
The Specially Reprobated Old Testament Sin 
 
 antagonism. And why has covetousness incurred 
 this deadly imputation ? It is because the spirit 
 of covetousness is the extreme opposite of the 
 Spirit of God. It is more extreme than atheism. 
 Atheism only fails to see a. Divine Being ; covetous- 
 ness sees Him quite well and admires not His beauty. 
 That which the covetous man admires is God's 
 opposite. God is love, and the essence of love is 
 giving ; covetousness is self, and the essence of 
 self is retaining. God is the converse of avarice. 
 God dispenses charity ; avarice gathers gold. God 
 lavishes His treasures ; avarice hoards its gains. 
 God lives not to Himself; avarice has no life for 
 another. God seeks out the destitute ; avarice 
 hides from meeting the poor. God has many 
 mansions; avarice locks itself in a single room. 
 God scatters sunbeams; avarice picks up pins. 
 God sheds His blood to give life for the needy ; 
 avarice sheds the blood of the needy to give life to 
 itself. I do not wonder that a Bible poet once 
 selected as the extreme reverse of godliness, not 
 atheism, but avarice : " Incline my heart unto Thy 
 testimonies and not to covetousness." 
 
 My soul, often do I hear thee ask, " Why has 
 
 my Father put so bad a power within me ? " It is 
 
 not the power that is bad; it is its direction. 
 
 There is a Divine place for thy covetousness, but 
 
 217 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 it is not the place thou hast chosen for it. Thou 
 hast coveted for thyself ; thou wert meant to 
 covet for God. There is a covetousness which is 
 not avarice. The w^ise men of the East must have 
 passed with their comrades for avaricious men. I 
 marvelled w^hen I saw them so long engaged in 
 gathering earthly gold. I said, *' Strange that 
 these eyes w^hich have been trained to search among 
 the stars should have been so attracted by the 
 glitter of things below ! " But by-and-by I saw 
 them carrying their gold to a manger where lay 
 that Infant-Christ for whom the world had no 
 room ; and then I knew that they had gathered for 
 Jesus. Seest thou that daughter of Bethany so 
 eager to amass, so anxious to hoard ? She seems 
 a child of avarice. She objects to her sister's 
 absorption in social expenditure — to the many 
 guests at the feast, to the many things provided for 
 them. But wait a little, and the seeming miser 
 will be revealed a spendthrift — a spendthrift for love. 
 She has coveted an alabaster box for Jesus — laden 
 with precious ointment, filled with richest perfume. 
 She wants to lavish it in her love. She knows it 
 will be broken in fragments ; but they will be frag- 
 ments of fragrance. She knows it will become a 
 mere memory; but it will be a memory of love — 
 and it is for that she gathers. Be thine her 
 218 
 
The Specially Reprobated Old Testament Sin 
 
 covetousness, O my soul ! Gather for Jesus ! Grow 
 rich for His poverty ! Seek gold for His service ! 
 Save treasures for His manger ! Practice self- 
 denial for His destitute ! Lay by for His homeless ! 
 Store up for His friendless ! Set apart from Thine 
 own feast for His hungering and thirsting brothers ! 
 Then shall thine be a covetousness which does not 
 renounce God. 
 
 219 
 
THE POSTPONED BLESSINGS OF GOD 
 
 "My prayer is unto Thee an acceptable time." — Ps. 
 Lxix. 13. 
 
 Prayers are commonly divided into two classes 
 — those which are conformable to the will of God 
 and those which are not. The psalmist would 
 suggest a third class belonging to neither the one 
 nor the other. He says there may be prayers 
 which are not conformable to the will of God to- 
 day, but which will be so to-morrow. There is, 
 according to him, an acceptable time for the 
 answering of certain prayers. He does not mean 
 that there is an acceptable time for praying. The 
 Heavenly Father appreciates prayer whether He 
 can respond to it or not. The limitation is not to 
 our petitions, but to God's answers. We often ask 
 things which are in accordance with God's will, 
 but for which we are not ready. A young child 
 asks his father for a knife. Now, that is a posses- 
 sion within the rights of a human being. It is a 
 possession which one day will be of great use to 
 the petitioner for the cutting of knots which 
 220 
 
The Postponed Blessings of God 
 
 cannot be untied. But to-day it will cut not the 
 string but the finger — will immolate not the child's 
 difficulties, but the child himself. I am quite sure 
 that the father will for the present refuse the 
 prayer ; he will lay up the desired gift in a safe 
 treasury, awaiting the time when its possession 
 will cease to be a danger ; it has been asked at a 
 season which is not acceptable. Even so, there 
 are special seasons for the gifts of the Heavenly 
 Father. Many a man asks in April a gift of 
 Divine fruit that will only be ripe in June. Take 
 the case of Paul. Immediately after his conver- 
 sion he prayed for a mission, " Lord, what wouldst 
 Thou have me to do ? " He was answered by 
 being sent into the solitudes of Arabia. Was the 
 gratification of his prayer denied, then ? No, it 
 was postponed. He had asked at an unacceptable 
 time. He had desired for April the fruits of June. 
 He was not ready for a mission. The light from 
 heaven had overheated him. He needed to be 
 cooled down ere he could deal with the practical 
 wants of men. Accordingly, God prepared for 
 him a place in the wilderness where he could rest 
 and ponder. The mission was coming, but it was 
 coming with the developed years ; it was hid in 
 the bosom of the Father till the acceptable time. 
 My Father, help me to learn that I am heir to 
 
 221 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 possessions which exceed my present holding ! 
 They exceed my present power to hold — they are 
 waiting for my summer. Do I ever thank Thee for 
 the blessings which Thou postponest ? I am 
 afraid not. I am like the prodigal ; I want to get 
 all at once the portion that falleth to me ; and, 
 where it is not given, I deem it is refused. Teach 
 me, O Lord, the beauty of Thy delayed answers ! 
 I have sometimes said in youth, " Lead me in 
 green pastures ; make me to lie down by quiet 
 waters." And lo ! the road on which I travel has 
 become rough, and the path has grown thorny, 
 and the stillness has been broken by the storm ! 
 At such times it has seemed to me as if Thou 
 hadst forgotten to be gracious. Teach me that 
 the form of grace I have asked is not forgotten 
 but postponed ! Remind me that youth is not an 
 acceptable time for green pastures and quiet 
 waters ! Remind me that Thy best gift to youth 
 is just the rough road and the thorny path and the 
 beating wind ! Remind me that at the beginning 
 of life we should not be made to lie down, but to 
 rise up and work vigorously ! Remind me that 
 the acceptable time is coming — that I am even 
 now the heir to the reserved blessing! Remind 
 me that Thy day for the green pastures and the 
 quiet waters and the lying down will be the after- 
 
 222 
 
The Postponed Blessings of God 
 
 noon of my life — when I am weary with the 
 burden and the heat, when I am oppressed with 
 the circuit of the sun ! Thy calm is for the mid- 
 day, O Lord ; Thy breeze is for the morning. 
 Let me not ask the calm for the hour Thou hast 
 destined for the breeze ; send me Thy fruits in 
 Thine acceptable time I 
 
 223 
 
THE PREPARATION FOR THOSE ON 
 THE RIGHT HAND. 
 
 "Then shall the King say unto them on His right hand, 
 Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of 
 the world." — Matt. xxv. 34. 
 
 " Prepared for you." Prepared for whom ? 
 For the sacrificial souls of humanity — for those 
 of whom Christ said, " I was hungry, and ye 
 gave me meat." The idea evidently is that the 
 future life will be adapted to the spirit of sacrifice. 
 This present world is not adapted to the spirit of 
 sacrifice; it presents barriers to that spirit. 
 There are, I think, two such barriers. For one 
 thing, the world's ideal of heroism is not that 
 of a sacrificial man ; it is that of a conquering 
 man. Earth had a laurel wreath for Caesar ; for 
 Christ it had only a crown of thorns. It was 
 prepared for Cassar ; it was not prepared for 
 Christ. But the world has a second and a worse 
 barrier to sacrifice ; it is the dimness of our 
 mental vision. We cannot see into the heart of 
 him to whom we minister. We often present a 
 224 
 
Preparation for Those on the Right Hand 
 
 stone when we should give bread. We throw a 
 coin to a beggar who needs a reformatory ; we 
 give a tract to a suppliant who needs a coin. We 
 help those whom we should teach to help them- 
 selves ; we offer work to those who are fit only 
 to be nursed. In these two respects this world 
 is not adapted to the sacrificial soul. But Christ 
 says that in the same two respects the future 
 world will be adapted. There, the sacrificial life 
 will be deemed the heroic life. The great men 
 of the New Jerusalem will be the serving men — 
 those who do errands for others ; the laurel 
 wreaths will be for Christ and His ministering 
 spirits. And there, the sons of charity will be 
 the sons of vision. They will see into the heart 
 of their less favoured brother; they will know 
 exactly what he needs ; they will never give the 
 wrong thing. That is what I understand by the 
 words, '' Now we see through a glass darkly ; 
 then, face to face." Remember where these 
 words occur. In the chapter on charity. Paul 
 is not speaking of our present ignorance of 
 heavenly mysteries ; he is speaking of our present 
 ignorance of how to deal with our brother man. 
 He is saying, in effect, that this life is not well 
 adapted for the distribution of charity, and he is 
 anticipating a life where it will be otherwise — a 
 225 P 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 life where vision shall be equal to benevolence, 
 where discernment shall move hand in hand with 
 love, where perfect knowledge of our brother's 
 need shall make a perfect provision for our 
 brother's want. 
 
 Lord, hasten the happy time when light and 
 love shall meet together ; prepare a kingdom for 
 the sacrificial soul ! Often here below the problem 
 of human suffering perplexes us ; the spirit is 
 willing, but the sight is weak. We know not 
 what is best to do. We cannot tell whether to 
 begin with the strengthening of the soul or the 
 feeding of the body — whether to say " Thy sins 
 be forgiven thee," or *' Arise, and walk." Enlighten 
 us, O Lord ! We see our brother through a glass 
 darkly ; we would behold him face to face. It is 
 for the sake of human charity that we ask Divine 
 light. It is to see the road to helpfulness that 
 we supplicate Thy torch. Not for the sake of 
 speculation do we ask a brighter ray. We seek 
 not to penetrate into Thy deep mysteries. We 
 aspire not to fathom the sea which the angels 
 desire to look into. We crave not to know the 
 secrets that belong to Thyself alone. We pray 
 not to have our personal life lit less by faith and 
 more by sight. Nay, our Father, in all these 
 spheres we would be guided still. But we do 
 226 
 
Preparation for Those on the Right Hand 
 
 wish to find the secret of our brother's need ; we 
 do wish to inquire the way to our sister's help. 
 We want Thy hght and Thy truth that we may 
 go to Thine altar — Thy place of sacrifice. Light 
 us for the service of love ! Give us Thy Rontgen 
 Rays to find where the trouble lies ! Illuminate 
 us for ministration ! Quicken us to detect the 
 destitute spot ! Send us a lamp to see where lurks 
 the sting ! Inspire us to know the spot where the 
 seed of sorrow dwells ! Thou shalt answer our 
 prayer in the kingdom prepared for charity. 
 
 227 p 2 
 
HOW TO ACCELERATE TIME 
 
 •* The sun stood still." — Joshua x. 13. 
 *' They willingly received Him into the ship ; and immediately 
 the ship was at the land whither they went." — John vi. 21. 
 
 These two passages each record an opposite 
 experience of the human soul — the sense of time's 
 dragging and the sense of time's acceleration. 
 There are seasons in which the sun stands still — in 
 which the hours seem to pass slowly ; and there 
 are seasons in which the ship seems immediately to 
 reach the destined haven. Can we put our hand 
 on the cause of these opposite experiences ? I 
 think we can ; and I also think it does not lie 
 where it is usually supposed to lie. The common 
 view is that time always moves fast when the mind 
 is occupied. That is not the case ; there are 
 seasons of absorption in grief when the day drags 
 heavily, drearily. The truth is, it is not a question 
 of occupation but of what occupies. The slowness 
 or quickness of time, in my opinion, depends on 
 whether our thoughts are personal or impersonal. 
 Take this boat on the Sea of Galilee. We have to 
 picture the disciples toiling with the rough passage 
 and thinking the time interminable. They have 
 228 
 
How to Accelerate Time 
 
 parted from their Master and have no object of 
 contemplation but their own safety and their own 
 difficulties. Their minds are thoroughly occupied, 
 but they are occupied with themselves. Theirs is 
 a purely personal interest, and therefore the hours 
 seem to linger. We cannot say that the sun stood 
 still, for it was night; but the night stood stilL 
 Suddenly, they see their Master walking on the 
 waves. In an instant their anxiety is shifted from 
 themselves to Him — so I interpret the picture. 
 They see Him exposed, defenceless, to the blast — 
 deprived even of the physical refuge which they them- 
 selves possessed. They pant to shield Him from 
 immediate contact with the sea. They eagerly take 
 Him in; they minister to Him. And as they minister 
 time seems annihilated. A few minutes ago it had 
 been dragging heavily ; now, it flies. The second 
 half of the voyage appears a magical transition . So 
 short is it that it is a blank to them. It leaves no 
 record on their memory. Between their reception 
 of Jesus and their touching the shore they can 
 discern no interval; they can only write in their 
 diary, " We took Him into the ship, and imme- 
 diately the ship was at the land whither we went." 
 Lord-, the sea of life is stormy and we are toiling 
 in the night. Shall our toil make the night seem 
 long ? It depends on whom we are working for — ■ 
 229 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 for ourselves or for Thee. It is not interest thrt 
 retards the hours ; it is self-interest. Send us an 
 impersonal joy or an impersonal fear; either will 
 make wings for time. What we need to give 
 pinions to the hour is interest in Thy Christ — in the 
 averting of His sorrows, in the securing of His 
 rest. He is out on the stormy sea, walking alone. 
 He is out on the stormy sea in that life of sympathy 
 which makes Him one with the lowliest. He is 
 out on the stormy sea wherever the poor are 
 struggling for bread or the homeless crying for 
 shelter or the ragged shivering with cold. He is 
 embodied in those who are in open contact with 
 the waves, who have no plank between their feet 
 and the waters ; He feels their feebleness, He is 
 touched by their trembHng. Help us to find Him, 
 O Lord ; urge us to take Him in ! Bend our will 
 to the oar with the chance of overtaking Him, of 
 lending Him succour, of putting something between 
 Him and the sea ! Then the hours will fly. Every 
 moment will be precious — passing too soon. The 
 time will seem too short for the work we have to 
 do. Life will drag no more. The sun will not stand 
 still by day, nor the moon by night. Weariness will 
 vanish, languor will cease, monotony will dis- 
 appear; and when we turn to contemplate the 
 voyage we shall find ourselves already at the land. 
 230 
 
THE ENCOURAGEMENT TO CHARITY 
 
 "Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it 
 after many days." — Eccles. xi. i. 
 
 The writer of Ecclesiastes is speaking of the 
 damper which often falls upon our deeds of 
 charity. We say familiarly of many acts of 
 benevolence, ** It is just throwing money into the 
 sea." In the days of this writer that saying must 
 have been almost proverbial, for he describes 
 charity by an equivalent expression, " Cast thy 
 bread upon the waters." He admits that benevo- 
 lence is a throwing of money into the sea — the 
 casting of it out into a sphere of uncertainty. 
 Yet, in spite of that, he bids us throw. He does 
 so on the ground that, though the sea is a sphere 
 of uncertainty, it is not a sphere of hopelessness ; 
 many things which are laid on its bosom come 
 back to us again. He tells us that we shall find 
 our bread of charity " after many days." I under- 
 stand him to mean, " after many castings." I do 
 not think the idea is so much that of time as of 
 231 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 repeated effort. What I take him to say is this : 
 " You are committing your charities to a very 
 uncertain medium, and the large majority of them 
 will probably bear no fruit. But out of a thousand 
 scattered seeds some few will fructify. Out of the 
 many to whom your charity may be in vain, there 
 will be at least two or three to whom it will bring 
 blessing, and perhaps these two or three may be 
 more powerful than would have been all the rest 
 put together. Cast the many seeds for the sake of 
 the two or three." I agree with the writer of 
 Ecclesiastes. I hold that charity is always an act 
 of faith — that it must be bestowed in the absence 
 of certainty. I hold that it must be tested by its 
 power to endure many clouds, by its ability to 
 withstand ninety-nine failures for the sake of the 
 hundredth case which is to prove a success. I 
 know a man intimately who has been periodically 
 solicited for loans of money during a long term 
 of years, and who has generally acceded to the 
 request. Of these loans he can only recall one 
 instance of repayment ; but the instance is that of 
 a boy whom he relieved in an emergency, and who 
 has lived to be a comfort to his family. The one 
 success has compensated the many failures. The 
 bread which has been cast upon the waters has 
 come back only in fragments ; but the fragments 
 232 
 
The Encouragement to Charity 
 
 have been so precious that they have justified the 
 cost. 
 
 My soul, let thy charity be the child of thy 
 faith and hope ! Never desist from love through 
 despair of life ! Do not imagine that the value of 
 a spiritual harvest depends on the amount of the 
 bread ! There were many babes in Bethlehem in 
 the days of Herod the king, and doubtless much 
 bread was cast upon the waters for their susten- 
 ance. Yet I am told that only one of these 
 reached manhood; the rest were the victims of 
 Herod. What then ? Was the faith of the 
 Israelites in vain ? No. Who was that one babe 
 of Bethlehem that reached maturity ? It was a 
 life whose single force was to turn the current of 
 history, whose single energy was to make all 
 things new. Say not that thy work is wasted 
 though thy charity has rescued but one ! Hast 
 thou measured the strength that may lie in one ? 
 There was only one struck by the light at 
 Damascus; but that one was Paul. There was 
 only one gained by the mission of Philip ; but that 
 one stood close to royalty. Often in Samaria 
 thou standest by the well alone, and there seems 
 no response to the thirst of thy solitary heart. Do 
 not go away ; abandon not yet thy labours ! I 
 see one coming. It is only one; there is no 
 233 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 multitude with her. Yet she may be more influential 
 than all that have passed by on the other side. 
 Wait for her, O my soul ! Though she is but one, 
 wait for her! Though thou art weary, wait for 
 her ! Though the well is deep and the gain seems 
 small, wait for her ! Though she comes only by 
 accident and knows not of thy presence, wait for 
 her ! Her coming may be the return of the 
 prayers thou hast cast upon the waters. 
 
 234 
 
THE PRAYER OF JAMES AND JOHN 
 
 "And James and John come unto Him, saying, Master, 
 we would that Thou shouldest do for us whatsoever we shall 
 desire." — Mark x. 35. 
 
 I THINK there is a great difference between the 
 physical and the mental world. In the physical 
 world we ascend from small demands to high ; in 
 the mental we descend from high demands to small. 
 A child begins with simple food and becomes 
 gradually capable of assimilating richer diet. But a 
 beginner in the spiritual life puts out his hand to 
 touch the roof of the universe. His eye rests primarily 
 on the top of the mountain, and it is for that he 
 first aims. In no department is this so conspicu- 
 ous as in the sphere of prayer. We should expect 
 the history of prayer to be a history of ever-increas- 
 ing demands — beginning with trifling requests 
 and ending with great requirements. It is the 
 reverse ; it begins with great requirements and it 
 ends with requests which the world would call 
 trifling. We have here before us one of the earliest 
 prayers of Christianity. Two fishermen enter into 
 
 235 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 the presence of Christ to ask a personal boon. We 
 expect that this first flight of prayer will be something 
 modest — the petition for success in their trade, or 
 for comfort in their home, or for support in their 
 duties. To our astonishment, it is the boldest 
 request ever preferred by the lips of mortal man : 
 " We would that Thou shouldest do for us what- 
 soever we shall desire." I suppose there had come 
 to their ears Herod's promise to Herodias that he 
 would grant her whatever she should ask. They 
 probably said, " If a petty earthly ruler could make 
 such an offer to a member of his family, is it too 
 much to hope that the Ruler of the kingdom of 
 Heaven will do it for His faithful followers? " The 
 word that raises a smile is the word " hope." It 
 never occurred to these men that Herod had not 
 offered a boon at all — that the promise had proved 
 a disaster. For the feature of the prayer is not its 
 presumption ; it is its hurtfulness. Where lies the 
 sting of saying, "Give me whatever I desire"? 
 It lies in the prayer's selfishness. It is im- 
 possible that my desire should not at some 
 point cross the desire of my brother. My crops 
 may be crying for rain, and his for sunshine. My 
 heart may be seeking in marriage a human object 
 which he is also seeking. The door by which 
 I would find promotion may be the door at which 
 236 
 
The Prayer of James and John 
 
 he himself is knocking. Shall I make my prayer 
 a weapon to strike him down ? 
 
 Forbid it, Lord ; deny the pernicious request ! 
 Let my first prayer be, " Teach me to pray ! " I 
 am more afraid of my desires than of anything else 
 in the world. My deepest fear in prayer, but for 
 Thy love, would be not the refusal, but the grant- 
 ing of it. If I did not know that Thou art love, I 
 should tremble before the gates of my own suppli- 
 cation. I should feel as I do when conflicting 
 armies are on the verge of battle and I expect 
 to hear of slaughter. Shall my petition be the 
 destruction of my neighbour's hope? Shall the 
 flowering of my garden be the withering of his ? 
 Shall the bridge by which I cross the river be the 
 mutilated heart of my brother man ? Thou, whose 
 name is Love, let it not be ! Thou hast made the 
 house of prayer for mutual helpfulness ; let me not 
 make it a den of thieves — a place for over-reaching 
 my comrade ! Rather let me invert the prayer of 
 these fishermen of Galilee ; let me say, " Do unto 
 me whatsoever Thou shalt desire ! " Let me cast 
 my hopes, not upon my love for myself, but upon 
 Thy love for me ! Let me put my interests into 
 Thy hands ! It is the only confidence I can have 
 that my prayer will be a holy and not a harmful 
 thing. I should like to get my own desires in so 
 
 237 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 far as tney coincide with the glory of Thy kingdom 
 — no less, no more. I would not be a favoured 
 one. I would not get the daily bread that is denied 
 to my playmate ; it would turn to ashes on my 
 lips. Give Thy crown in common ! Light Thy 
 sun on every stream ! Impart Thy warmth to 
 a united world ! Then only shall I ask the 
 fulfilment of my desire. 
 
 n* 
 
THE MORAL INFLUENCE OF HIGH 
 POSITION 
 
 " The mountain shall bring peace to the people by righteous* 
 ness." — Ps, Lxxii. 3. 
 
 The mountains have generally brought war to 
 the people. This has been increasingly true the 
 further back we go. The unrighteousness of those 
 in high places has brought great misery to those 
 beneath them. The selfish ambition of kings has 
 in times of arbitrary government dragged their 
 unoffending subjects into their own penalties — 
 famine, pestilence, devastation of land, slaughter 
 of kindred, exposure to danger and privation. I 
 think the greatest calamities which have befallen 
 the people of most countries have come from the 
 mountains or high places. Unrighteousness on 
 the mountains has brought dispeace to the people 
 in other spheres than that of war. Take an age of 
 rampant immorality. Analyse its source, and you 
 will find that it has been drafted from the moun- 
 tains. It has come down to the people as a 
 fashion prevalent in the upper air. It has come 
 239 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 down glorified by its previous height. It has lost 
 its association with sin by its association with 
 rank and power ; nay, it has been even painted 
 with radiance by the sunbeams on the hill. But 
 the psalmist looks forward to a time when the 
 mountains will have an opposite influence on the 
 people. He says there is a day coming in which 
 the king shall realise that he is a servant of the 
 people, answerable for their moral welfare and 
 bound to maintain their interests. He predicts 
 the advent of an age when individual advantage 
 shall cease to be the motive of earthly sovereigns. 
 He sees in the air the Kingdom of Messiah, the 
 kingdom where the ruler shall be minister to 
 universal need, where the greatest shall be the 
 least, where the wearer of the crown shall be the 
 crucifier of his own passions. And because in the 
 sweet by-and-by he sees beauty on the mountains, 
 he sees it also on the plains and in the valleys. 
 He feels that the tendency of fashion, be it good 
 or bad fashion, is to flow down. He feels that the 
 course of virtue, like the course of vice, is not 
 from the provinces to the capital, but from the 
 capital to the provinces. He hails the beautiful 
 feet when they appear upon the mountains, for he 
 knows that from the mountains the tidings most 
 swiftly come, and that the speed of purity is 
 240 
 
The Moral Influence of High Position 
 
 accelerated by the impulse from an upper 
 breeze. 
 
 Lord, ever increasingly may the mountains 
 bring peace to the people ! The people take 
 their fashion from the mountains ; may the 
 fashion on the mountains be good ! I thank 
 Thee that Thou hast revealed a new ideal of 
 kinghood. I thank Thee that, in Jesus Christ 
 Thy Son, Thou hast taught the humility of being 
 on the height, the responsibility of being regal, 
 the weightedness of wearing a crown. I thank 
 Thee that the sceptre has become associated with 
 stooping, the headship with healing, the royalty 
 with repair of wrong. Place that ideal on the 
 top of the mountain ; make each hill where the 
 king sits a "holy hill of Zion " ! Cleanse the 
 mountain air ; let there be many lights in the 
 upper chamber ! Put a premium on propriety ; 
 make vice disrespectable ! We often say, " I must 
 do in Rome as Rome does"; teach Rome to do 
 well that we may be pure in following her ! I am 
 more afraid of the gilding of sin than of its gross- 
 ness. If I saw it in itself I should scorn it ; but 
 when I see it lighted on the hilltops it assumes a 
 glory. Therefore, O Lord, I beseech Thee to 
 remove it from the hills, to strip it of its false 
 splendour ! Make holy the heights where the 
 
 241 Q 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 great ones dwell! Purify earth's palaces ; sanctify 
 earth's sovereigns ; stir the conscience of earth's 
 courtiers ! Associate kinghood with kindness, 
 power with peacefulness, strength with sympathy, 
 leading with light, government with godliness, 
 empire with earnestness, rank with righteousness, 
 status with stainlessness, brilliance of position 
 with the bearing of human pain ! Then shall we 
 look up to the hills for our aid ; then shall the 
 mountains bring peace to the people. 
 
 242 
 
HELP FROM THE SUPERNATURAL 
 
 " Then came Jesus, the doors being shut, and said, Peace be 
 unto you." — John xx. 26. 
 
 It is not always that Christ comes into tie 
 soul when the doors of the world are shut. To 
 the apostles themselves He had originally come 
 through the world's open doors. He had reached 
 them in the course of their daily labour. He had 
 met Peter by the sea, Matthew at the receipt of 
 custom, Thomas in the exercise of his intellect. 
 Most of His followers had been found in a pleasant 
 environment — Nathanael under a tree, Zacchseus 
 on the top of a tree, Martha and Mary and 
 Lazarus in the family circle, the shepherds in 
 the watching of their flocks, the astronomers in 
 the observing of a star, the men of Cana in the 
 feast of nuptial joy. But there are times when 
 Christ comes, not through the open, but through 
 the shut, doors of life — when no flowers clothe 
 the fig-tree, when the flock is cut off from the 
 243 92 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 fold, when the board of Bethany is spread no 
 more, when the treasures brought from the East 
 are exhausted, when the vine has denied her fruit 
 to Cana and the nuptial joy is silent. Even at 
 such a time of closed doors the peace of Christ 
 has often entered the soul. You have heard one 
 say at times, " I cannot get up my spirits ; I 
 know not how it is; every door is open to me, 
 yet Hfe feels flat and poor." But there is another 
 and an exactly contrary experience. There are 
 seasons when you hear one say, " I cannot let 
 down my spirits ; I know not what is keeping me 
 up ; all the doors of life are shut, yet I cease not 
 from my song." It is rather a singing than a 
 soaring, rather a keeping-up than a flying on the 
 wing, rather a peace than a transport. I do not 
 at such moments believe the doors to be open 
 when they are shut ; I am simply conscious of a 
 warm fire inside, which will not let me feel 
 desolate. Whence the fire comes, I cannot tell. 
 Eye hath not seen its kindling; ear hath not 
 heard its crackling ; heart hath not conceived the 
 fuel by which it flames. It warms without wood, 
 it comforts without coal, it heats without hands, 
 it subsists without sustenance, it renews without 
 replenishing, it lasts without human labour ; it is 
 the peace of God. 
 
 244 
 
Help from the Supernatural 
 
 O Thou who hast brought a resurrection life 
 into a world with shut doors, I too, when my 
 doors are shut, may be reached by Thee. There 
 are days when all my avenues are closed. There 
 is no entrance from the front — the future is cloudy. 
 There is no entrance from the back — the retrospect 
 is sombre. There is no entrance from the side — 
 the things of life are adverse. There is no entrance 
 from the roof — like the patriarch Job I have lost 
 sight of the open heaven. Men look and say, 
 "A doomed house, a sealed house, a house where 
 the inmate must die." Yet, in such a house Thy 
 resurrection life can dwell. Thou canst enter 
 without doors. Thy peace can tread where there 
 is no pathway ; Thy rest can travel where there 
 is no road. There is a light which surprises — it 
 shineth in darkness. Thou hast birds that sing 
 where there is no summer ; Thou hast flowers 
 that bloom where there is no sun ; Thou hast 
 faces that smile where there is no outward fortune. 
 Send me, O Lord, Thy supernatural joy — Thy 
 grandly unreasonable rest ! Dawn in my dark- 
 ness ! Glitter in my gloom ! Fan into flame my 
 emberless fireplace ! Send me steadfastness in 
 the storm ! Lend me nerve in the night ! Give 
 me bravery in the loss of battle ! Cheer me in 
 the chill ! Warm me in the winter ! Lighten me 
 
 245 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 spite of my load ! Prepare for me a feast in the 
 presence of my foes ! Let the lamb lie down 
 with the lion — let the calm subsist amid the 
 world's roar ! Then shall I know that Thy peace 
 is not born of earthly things. 
 
 246 
 
CHRIST'S NATIONAL JUDGMENT 
 
 " When the Son of Man shall come in His glory, then shall 
 He sit upon the throne of His glory ; and before Him shall 
 be gathered all nations ; and He shall separate them." — 
 Matt. xxv. 31, 32. 
 
 I UNDERSTAND the idea to be, ** There is a time 
 coming in which the worth of a nation will be 
 measured by its conformity to the standard of the 
 Son of Man." Put into modern language, the 
 prophecy is this, " The nations at the right hand 
 of power will be the nations animated by the love 
 of humanity." Wherever the Son of Man has 
 come in His glory — wherever the welfare of 
 humanity is the paramount thing, the humanised 
 nations are the powerful nations. Before men 
 recognised the glory of a human soul the power of 
 a nation lay in something material. The great 
 kingdoms were the kingdoms of physical force, of 
 crushing strength, of warlike prowess ; their 
 symbol was the lion and the panther. But when 
 an individual man was enthroned in the heart of 
 the world, when the most attractive object in the 
 247 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 universe became a sacrificial human soul, then the 
 first was made last and the last first. The king- 
 doms of physical force faded and the kingdoms of 
 moral force advanced. When the sign of the Son 
 of Man appeared in heaven, those nations came to 
 the front that recognised the rights of man. The 
 lands of liberality became the lands of light. The 
 empires of intolerance receded ; they passed to the 
 left of the throne. Despotism withdrew into the 
 desert. Tyranny went back with the tide. 
 Slavery retreated to the silence. Monopoly was 
 hidden in the mist. The free nations stood fore- 
 most. Europe outstripped Asia ; America outran 
 Africa ; the West left the East behind. Culture 
 suppressed cruelty. Charity broke man's chain. 
 Love restrained law. Pity softened power. 
 Service eclipsed sovereignty. Kindness outshone 
 kinghood. Meekness became more potent than 
 majesty. The roaring of the lion was drowned in 
 the pleading of the lamb. 
 
 Lord, may Thy kingdom come ! May it come 
 not in the clouds of heaven, but in the cloudless- 
 ness of earth ! We thank Thee that already we 
 hear it on its way. We thank Thee that the 
 wheels of Thy chariot draw nearer. We thank 
 Thee that the nations at the right hand of power 
 are the humanitarian nations. We thank Thee 
 248 
 
Christ's National Judgment 
 
 that the empires which oppressed the rights of 
 man have taken the left side and sunk into the 
 shade. Nearer and nearer, O Lord, may that 
 kingdom come — the kingdom of humanity! 
 Swifter and swifter may that chariot roll — the 
 chariot of the Son of Man ! More and more may 
 the eyes of the nations rest on the glory of a human 
 soul ! May ever deeper grow their enthusiasm for 
 the work of Jesus — their desire to serve Him, their 
 eagerness to follow Him ! May they feel that a 
 kingdom is only great when it is sprinkled by His 
 Spirit ! May they learn that from Him come all 
 the qualities of their soldiers — the chivalry, the 
 courage, the endurance ! May they learn that from 
 Him come all the qualitiesof their statesmen — the 
 wisdom, the prudence, the foresight ! May they 
 leara that from Him come all the qualities of their 
 teacher:, — .he patience, the clearness, the tender- 
 ness ! To Him may they trace their happy 
 homes, their domestic endearments, their lamps of 
 amily love ! To Him may they ascribe their boast 
 of brotherhood, their social sympathy, their 
 mutual membership ! To him may they dedicate 
 th tk chalice of charity, their cup of kindness, their 
 ministry to man ! To him may they attribute the 
 survival of their sick, the healing of their helpless, 
 the life of their languid, the fire of their feeble, the 
 249 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 wealth of their weak, the song of their sorrowful, 
 the bravery of their baffled, the hopefulness of 
 their heavy-laden ! May they find the secret of 
 their right-hand place in this, that he who sits 
 upon their throne is the Son of Man \ 
 
 250 
 
INDIVIDUAL IMMORTALITY 
 
 "To every seed its own body." — i Cor. xv. 38. 
 
 Paul is speaking of the soul in the future state. 
 It is the boldest assertion of individualism I have 
 met with in all literature. What is it that makes 
 you and me individuals? It is not the fact that 
 each of us has a body, but that each of us has 
 *'his own body" — a body different from others. 
 It is our difference that makes us individuals. I 
 heard an eminent theologian once say that, in his 
 opinion, when we get to heaven we shall all think 
 the same thing at the same time. This was his 
 notion of reconciling the individual with the 
 universal. I should call it the killing of the 
 individual by the universal. In such a state we 
 might have communion with God, but we should 
 never have communion with one another. What 
 is it that makes the communion between any two 
 souls? It is their mutual exchange of ideas. 
 To think the same thing at the same time is not to 
 exchange ideas. You may set your clocks so as 
 to strike the same hour at precisely the same 
 moment. That is exactly what such a heaven 
 251 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 would be. If the Hving timepieces in the many 
 mansions of our Father's house are to strike the 
 hours uniformly and simultaneously, we shall all 
 be harmonious, but we shall cease to be individuals. 
 What constitutes me a separate man is just the 
 fact that the clocks do not sound uniformly nor 
 simultaneously. Our separateness is not our 
 sameness, but our communion. Communion 
 demands diiference — individuality. If you and I 
 meet on the road some day and both exclaim in 
 a breath, '' It is very fine weather," what have we 
 given to each other ? Nothing ; we have simply 
 expressed ourselves, uttered our united opinion. 
 There is a great deal too much of this in the 
 present world — union without communion. God 
 says He will make it different yonder — a man will 
 keep his own. Heaven will restore the individu- 
 ality which earth has broken ; we shall all be 
 self-revealing in the sweet by-and-by. 
 
 Lord, I have heard men say that death will rob 
 me of my personal life. But Thou hast told me 
 it is this world that robs me and that death will 
 restore it. Here, I have not my own body; I 
 have the body of the community ; I am wound up 
 to speak the same words that the world speaks. 
 But yonder, I shall be an individual soul — uncon- 
 ventional, spontaneous, free. I shall have my 
 252 
 
Individual Immortality 
 
 own body — not another's. I shall not merely 
 accompary the stroke of a neighbouring timepiece; 
 my own hour will have come — the hour for self- 
 revealing. The fashion of this world is conformity ; 
 but the fashion of Thy world will be difference. 
 Thy conformity is not a united hour-stroke but a 
 united song. It takes many different notes to 
 make a song ; to be a member of Thy choir in- 
 visible I must sing my own part. Let me practise 
 that part now, O Lord ! Let me find, on earth, 
 my place in the choir above ! Let me not be 
 distressed though I strike not the key of another ! 
 If I have failed to walk upon Peter's sea, let me 
 not be discouraged thereby ! — Thy part for me 
 may be the inland lake. If I have failed to flash 
 Elijah's fire, let me not be downcast thereby ! — Thy 
 part for me may be the still small voice. If I have 
 failed to climb the Mount with Moses, let me not 
 be ashamed thereby ! — Thy part for me may be 
 the modest vale. I ask not the note of my 
 brother ; I ask the power to blend with it. May 
 the lark keep its morn and the nightingale its eve ! 
 May the wise men meet their star and the shep- 
 herds their flock ! May Cana yield Thee her 
 wine, and Bethany her domestic joy, and Nain her 
 ministry to tears ! The varied sounds will make 
 one harmony in the song of Thy redeemed. 
 253 
 
THE EFFECT OF SIN'S EXPULSION 
 
 " When she was come to her house, she found the devil gone 
 out, and her daughter laid upon the bed." — Mark vii. 30. 
 
 The immediate effect of cure is not a sense of 
 exhilaration. This is true even of physical illness ; 
 the patient is most apt to feel his weakness in the 
 hours of convalescence. But it is supremely true 
 in the spiritual world. This maiden had been 
 what we should now call regenerated; an evil 
 spirit had been cast out of her. Yet the imme- 
 diate effect is not encouraging. Instead of being 
 elevated she is prostrated ; she is found lying on 
 a bed. She had lost her old energy. That energy 
 had come from delusive desires ; but it had 
 probably made her charming. She had found 
 that she had been chasing a shadow ; but, during 
 the chase, she had been brilliant. To find that it 
 had been a shadow was gain ; but it was gain that 
 involved loss — not permanently indeed, but for 
 to-day and to-morrow. It took away the zest 
 from life ; it dimmed for a time the sparkle of the 
 eye ; it substituted the heavy step for the wings of 
 an eagle. A disillusioned soul is like a weaned 
 
 254 
 
The Effect of Sin's Expulsion 
 
 child. When a young man first abandons the 
 wine-cup he probably for a time abandons some- 
 t .;ng more. He may lose his sparkle, his humour, 
 h"s brilliancy. He may lack the genial jest, the 
 r^ady repartee, the mirth that made others merry. 
 His comrades may miss in him the laugh that 
 brought light and the charm that gave cheer and 
 the buoyancy that for a night banished care. He 
 has had to pay for his freedom, and it is no 
 wonder if for an hour he is impoverished. It is a 
 dreary season between Egypt and Canaan. It is 
 well called a desert. Our treasures are often 
 wrapped up in our trespasses so that to part with 
 the latter is to part with the former. The resur 
 rection from sin reveals at first but an empty 
 tomb where the spices of life are useless and there 
 is nothing worthy to be embalmed. 
 
 And yet, my Father, such is not the rest Thou 
 hast in store for me. Thou hast not lifted me out 
 of the passions of sin that I may enter into a life 
 of passionlessness. I may be exhausted for a 
 day, I may be prostrated for a night upon my 
 bed. Yet my goal is not a couch, but a crown. 
 There is coming to me a new passion, a fresh 
 energy, a second youth. Hast Thou not said that 
 the joyous things of this world are but shadows 
 of things to come ? Yes, my Father, and therefore 
 
 ^55 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 I shall get back the equivalents of all that I have 
 lost. Beyond these forty days of the wilderness 
 there glimmers the light of a second Cana where 
 the water once more shall be turned into wine. 
 Thy latest word to every soul is this : " Arise, 
 take up thy bed and walk ! " Mine will be again 
 the sense of morning, the glad look-out, the 
 prospect of a promised land. Mine will be again 
 the impulse of the young, the heat of expectancy, 
 the blood made rapid by hope. Mine will be 
 again the disbelief in limitations, the confidence in 
 destiny, the faith that mountains will be removed. 
 Mine will be again the poet's dream — the belief 
 that somewhere there is a city paved with gold. 
 Mine will be again the communion of brotherhood 
 — ^joined by the cup that quickens yet inebriates 
 not, that dwarfs the care without making oblivious 
 of the joy. Mine will be again the forgetfulness 
 of earth's decay — the trust that love will last, the 
 hope that charity will be changeless, the sense 
 that pity will be permanent, the faith that 
 affection will abide, the instinct that sacrifice will 
 survive, the assurance that between man and man 
 devotion will not die. The fruits of Thy new 
 world will give back the vintage of the old ; he 
 who begins upon the bed will culminate on the 
 wing. 
 
 256 
 
THE ATTRACTION OF THE GREEK 
 MIND TO JESUS 
 
 " Certain Greeks came therefore to Philip, saying Sir, w« 
 would see Jesus." — John xii. 21. 
 
 It is no wonder that the Greeks desired to see 
 Jesus. The ideal of the Greek was always the 
 man whose character avoided extremes. What 
 he praised above everything else was the middle 
 way — the golden mean. He had four favourite 
 virtues — prudence, the middle line between 
 anxiety and recklessness ; temperance, the middle 
 line between excess and abstinence ; fortitude, the 
 middle line between daring and cowardice ; and 
 justice, the middle line between good nature and 
 severity. Now, I think that from the human side 
 Jesus was essentially the man of the golden mean. 
 He is that which the Greek waited for, but which, 
 in his own nation, he never perfectly found — the 
 man who had in him a little of everything. The 
 proof is, the diversity of those who followed Jesus. 
 I say, the diversity — not the number. A hundred 
 followers of Jesus are more proof of His power 
 
 257 R 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 than are a million followers proof of the power of 
 Buddha. The men of Buddha are all of one 
 type — they are of the East Eastern. But the 
 men and women of Jesus are of many moulds. 
 Why is one of His disciples so unlike another ? 
 It is because the Master never exhausts Himself 
 in one type ; He has a little bit of all lives in Him. 
 He is the mediator — the middle man ; He joins 
 opposite shores. Peter is there with his impulse, 
 and John with his calmness. Nathanael is there 
 with his faith, and Nicodemus with his reasoning. 
 Martha is there with her work, and Mary with 
 her mysticism. Paul is there with his poetry, and 
 James with his prose. He has songs of Bethlehem 
 for the child, and Jordan visions for the youth, 
 and heights of Hermon for the man. Joy can 
 meet Him at Cana ; depression can find Him at 
 Gethsemane. He can join in the prattle by the 
 fireside, and talk with the learned in the law. 
 He can speak with the peasant on the highway, 
 and discourse with the ruler of the synagogue. 
 He can support the social order, and yet ward 
 from its destructive stroke the victim that has 
 wandered from the way. Oh, I do not wonder 
 that the Greeks sought Jesus ! He was the man 
 for whom they were specially made — the man 
 all-round. They had dreamed of Him in the 
 258 
 
The Attraction of the Greek Mind to Jesus 
 
 night, and had been gladdened by their dream ; 
 and in the waking world they found the original — 
 standing in the dawn. 
 
 Lord, to us as to the Greeks, Thou art the 
 fulfilment of a dream. Ere ever we had seen 
 Thee Thou wert the desire of our hearts. We, 
 like the Greeks, have all wanted a mediator — a 
 middle-man — a man who had in him something 
 of all men. Humanity could never have been 
 attracted by any one quality, however granS. We 
 could not tell the invalid to take comfort from the 
 strength of Samson : that was the very thing 
 which made her despair ; she wanted one that 
 had tasted weakness too. We could not tell 
 gentle Ruth to imitate warlike Deborah : that 
 would have been to kill her gentleness ; she wanted 
 one that could give her power through peace. 
 But when Thou camest, there came a universal 
 man, an intermediate man, a man with a touch 
 for all. Within Thy heart slept all contraries in 
 concord. The lion was there and the lamb, the 
 thunder and the still small voice. The strength 
 of Samson was there ; but it was perfected in 
 weakness. The fire of Elijah was there; but it 
 was kindled by tender love. The activity of 
 Martha was there ; but it was winged by hours of 
 rest. In Thy one hand a telescope swept the 
 259 R 2 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 stars ; in the other a microscope searched the 
 dust. Thy voice came from the mountain ; but 
 its precepts were made for the valley. All extremes 
 met in Thee — joy and sacrifice, love of the sinner 
 and loathing of the sin, power and gentleness, 
 storm and peace, rebuke and pity, passion and 
 placidness, depth and simplicity, ocean and stream. 
 O Thou mediating man that had a share in all, 
 let me find my part in Thee 1 
 
 360 
 
THE PLACE FOR SUCCESSFUL 
 INQUIRY 
 
 *' When He was entered into the house from the people, His 
 disciples asked Him concerning the parable." — Mark vii. 17. 
 
 There are times for religious inquiry. Strange 
 to say, they are the times not of mental tossing, 
 but of mental rest. It was when Jesus was 
 entered into His own house and when the door 
 was shut against the noise of the multitude, that 
 His disciples began to question Him. The reverse 
 view is the popular one. The prevalent notion is 
 that the spirit of inquiry is fostered by the noise of 
 antagonism, that the real place for it is outside the 
 house of Jesus. That is a grand mistake. The 
 psalmist of Israel knew better ; he expressed the 
 wish to dwell in God's house and see His beauty 
 in order that he might " inquire." He felt that no 
 man is qualified to get an answer if he is in a state 
 of tumult. And is he not right ? Is it not a matter 
 of daily experience that the mind which inquires 
 successfully must be a mind at rest? "Be still, 
 and know ! " cries the Divine oracle. You will 
 261 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 never come to know by being violent. If you want 
 to hear an answer to your questioning, you must 
 come inside the house and escape the clamour of 
 the multitude. Neither you nor Elijah can hear 
 God when the heart is convulsed by thunder and 
 earthquake and fire. Many a message to the soul 
 has been lost by the soul's own storm. The world 
 did not hear the coming of its Christ. Why ? 
 Because the world's heart was in great unrest. 
 Mary did not recognise the form of the risen Lord. 
 Why ? Because Mary's soul was in deep despair. 
 Martha did not catch the sweet words at Bethany. 
 Why ? Because Martha's spirit was careful and 
 troubled about many things. Our crowns of glory 
 often need to be " laid up " for us. They are lying 
 at our feet, and we do not lift them. We believe 
 them to be stones on the causeway. We miss the 
 glitter of their gems ; we see not the sparkle of 
 their gold. We are too distraught to recognise 
 them — too close to the clamour, too near to the 
 multitude. We must get inside if we would find 
 our crown ; we must enter the house with Jesus. 
 We must get the calm mind, the placid conscience, 
 the rested heart, the bending will, the quiet 
 patience, the tranquil faith, the underlying peace, 
 the optimistic love ; then shall we hear the answer 
 to the questioning of our souls. 
 262 
 
The Place for Successful Inquiry 
 
 Bring me into Thy house, O Lord, that good- 
 ness and mercy may follow me ! Goodness and 
 mercy have been with me all the days of my life ; 
 but when they first come I do not see them ; they 
 have to " follow me." It is only when I have 
 entered Thy house that I really recognise them. 
 It is only in the peace of Thy home, in the calm 
 of my spirit, that I know how great have been my 
 benefits. I thought I was speaking to the gardener; 
 when I entered Thy house I found that it was 
 Jesus. I thought I was walking to Emmaus with 
 a stranger — mine eyes were blinded with grief; 
 when I entered Thy house I found it was the risen 
 Lord. I thought I was clothing a child in a 
 manger ; when I entered Thy house I found I had 
 been robing the Son of Man. I thought I was 
 giving drink to a suppliant at the well of Samaria; 
 when I entered Thy house I found that I had met 
 the answerer of prayer. I thought that Calvary 
 had crucified the Christ; when I entered Thy 
 house I saw that it had crowned Him. I thought 
 that the box of ointment was wasted when it was 
 broken ; when I entered Thy house every corner 
 was filled with its fragrance. I have seen the 
 mercies of the midday only by the cool of evening; 
 I have learned the world's beauty in the quiet of 
 Thy home. 
 
 263 
 
THE TRUE VICTORY OVER SORROW 
 
 " The land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it." — 
 Gen. XXVIII. 13. 
 
 The words are spoken to the prostrate Jacob 
 on his stone pillow at Bethel, and the promise is 
 the strangest ever conceived. " I will give thee 
 the land whereon thou liest — the scene of thy 
 humiliation, the place of thy prostration, the spot 
 where thou art now a starving vagrant." There 
 is something startling here. . It is no uncommon 
 thing for a man in the hour of his adversity to 
 have a vision of better fortune ; I do not wonder 
 that even upon his pillow of stone Jacob should 
 have had a dream of coming glory. But this is 
 more than a dream of coming glory. It is a 
 dream which says, " There is a time coming in 
 which your glory shall consist in the very thing 
 which now constitutes your pain." Nothing could 
 be more sad to Jacob than the ground on which 
 he was lying. It was the hour of his poverty. 
 It was the season of his night. It was the seeming 
 absence of his God. His deepest thought at the 
 264 
 
The True Victory Over Sorrow 
 
 time was that God had forgotten him. His one 
 cry of subsequent surprise is this, " The Lord was 
 in this place, and I knew it not ! " It was the 
 only moment in his life when he felt deserted by 
 Heaven, when he was disposed to say, " My way 
 is hid from the Lord." And yet the dream 
 declares that this rejected moment is to be the 
 scene of his glory — " The land whereon thou 
 Hest will I give thee, the place of thy prostration 
 will be thy paradise." There is no promise in the 
 world so sweet to a distressed soul as this. The 
 promise of deliverance is dear, but it is not the 
 dearest. If I have been prostrated on an earthly 
 bed, it is something to know that one day I shall 
 get Easter wings and fly away. Yet even in my 
 upward flight should I not feel that I had wasted 
 time ? Should I not feel that while I lay upon 
 my pillow of stone I had lost a day's work in the 
 vineyard, that the world was moving on and had 
 left me a march behind ? But when the voice 
 says, *' The ground whereon thou liest shall be 
 thy glory," this indeed is victory. It is not mere 
 Easter morning ; it is the Easter of Calvary. It 
 is not the resurrection into shining garments ; it 
 is the resurrection of the man with his grave- 
 clothes. It is not the forgetting of the rents in 
 the old robe by putting on a heavenly vesture ; it 
 265 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 is the finding of a place of beauty for the print of 
 the former nails. The day of my trial has been 
 the dawn of my triumph. 
 
 My soul, reject not the place of thy prostration ! 
 It has ever been thy robing-room for royalty. 
 Ask the great ones of the past what has been the 
 spot of their prosperity ; they will say, " It was 
 the cold ground on which I once was lying." Ask 
 Abraham ; he will point you to the sacrifice o 
 Moriah. Ask Joseph ; he will direct you to his 
 dungeon. Ask Moses ; he will date his fortune 
 from his danger in the Nile. Ask Ruth ; she will 
 bid you build her monument in the field of her 
 toil. Ask David ; he will tell you that his songs 
 came from the night. Ask Job ; he will remind 
 you that God answered him out of the whirlwind. 
 Ask Peter ; he will extol his submersion in the 
 sea. Ask John ; he will give the palm to Patmos, 
 Ask Paul ; he will attribute his inspiration to the 
 light which struck him blind. Ask one more — 
 the Son of Man. Ask Him whence has come His 
 rule over the world. He will answer, " From the 
 cold ground on which I was lying — the Geth- 
 semane ground; I received My sceptre there." 
 Thou too, my soul, shalt be garlanded by Geth- 
 semane. The cup thou fain wouldst pass from 
 thee will be thy coronet in the sweet by-and-by. 
 
 2G6 
 
The True Victory Over Sorrow 
 
 The hour of thy loneUness will crown thee. The 
 day of thy depression will regale thee. It is thy 
 desert that will break forth into singing ; it is the 
 trees of thy silent forest that will clap their hands. 
 The last things will be first in the sweet by-and- 
 by. The thorns will be roses ; the vales will be 
 hills ; the crooks will be straight lines ; the ruts 
 will be level ; the mist will be heat ; the shadows 
 will be shining ; the losses will be promotions ; 
 the tears will be tracks of gold. The voice of 
 God to thine evening will be this, " Thy treasure 
 is hid in the ground where thou wert lying.*' 
 
 267 
 
CHRIST'S SYMPATHY WITH PAUSES 
 IN LABOUR 
 
 " They passed through GaUlee ; and He would not that any 
 man should know it." — Mark ix. 30. 
 
 I THINK this passage reveals a singular experi- 
 ence on the part of the Son of Man. You must 
 carefully distinguish it from those passages in 
 which He wishes to conceal His Messiahship. 
 Here it is not His Messiahship that He wants to 
 hide, but Himself; He desires no one to be told 
 that He is passing through Galilee. It is quite a 
 common thing for kings and great personages to 
 travel incognito. Their motive in so doing is to 
 avoid publicity. They are oppressed by the weight 
 of their own personality. They are weary of 
 being objects of the world's wonder. They are 
 tired of being surrounded by crowds, whose only 
 purpose is to gaze. If they were helping these 
 crowds, they would feel otherwise ; but to stand 
 as a target for curiosity is to bear the fatigue of 
 the treadmill — to bear a fatigue which accom- 
 plishes no work and achieves nothing for the 
 268 
 
Christ's Sympathy with Pauses in Labour 
 
 world. Now, in one of His journeys, Jesus had 
 this desire to be hid, to be saved from any 
 weariness which was not part of the redemption 
 of mankind. I am glad that the evangelist has 
 recorded this seemingly commonplace experience. 
 I am glad he has recorded it, just because it is 
 commonplace. I like to think of every experience 
 of my life as having found a counterpart in 
 Christ. It is more easy to find these counterparts 
 in proportion as we ascend to great things. The 
 bankrupt may find it in His impoverishment, the 
 physical suiferer in His pain, the bereaved in His 
 Bethany, the deserted in His betrayal, the hungry 
 in His wilderness, the thirsting in His cross, the 
 homeless in His having not where to lay His 
 head, the sleepless in His midnight tossing on the 
 waves. But there are little moments less grave 
 than these for which yet we fain would find a 
 counterpart, times when we are not miserable, 
 but just weary of the burden and the heat, and 
 longing for a holiday of change. Is it not some- 
 thing to know that these commonplace moments, 
 these unromantic moments, these moments which 
 seem the most unheroic in the life of man, have 
 found a kindred spot in the sympathy of Him 
 who, in the days of His flesh, bore the frailty of 
 our frame? 
 
 269 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 Lord, I thank Thee for this sidehght on Thy 
 sympathy. It gives a solemnity to the things I 
 thought least solemn — my hours of relaxation. I 
 have always associated Thy sympathy with my 
 hours of toil. I have had no difficulty in praying 
 for Thy presence in the sphere of duty, in the 
 discharge of my work for my brother man. But 
 it never occurred to me to say, " Be with me in 
 my desire for a holiday, in my search for relaxa- 
 tion of the business cord." At such times I 
 seemed to myself a trifler, a poor creature, a 
 revealer of the weak side of human nature. I 
 shall not think so any more. In Thy desire to 
 pass through Galilee unknown to the crowd, I 
 shall see henceforth the sanctifying of what I call 
 my hour of idleness. For, let me not forget, O 
 Lord, that there are holy thoughts which can only 
 come through a holiday. Many a ship of beauty 
 passes unseen, in the night which my own anxiety 
 has made. Many a rose of comfort has been 
 covered unwittingly by my own working hand. 
 Many a song of immortal hope has been curtained 
 from my ear by the roar of the loom and factory. 
 Many an angel's wing has been hid from my view 
 by the smoke and dust of duty's battle. I thank 
 Thee that Thou hast sympathy with my strain ot 
 tension. I bless Thee that I can think of my 
 270 
 
Christ's Sympathy with Pauses in Labour 
 
 relaxation as Thy rest. I praise Thee that in the 
 unbending of my bow I can see the breaking of 
 Thy bread. I laud Thee that I can cease to deem 
 my hour of freedom an hour of frivolity. The 
 secrecy of Thy road through Galilee has made it 
 religious to repose. 
 
 271 
 
THE COMFORTING SPOT IN 
 MEMORY 
 
 " I call to remembrance my song in the night." — Ps. lxxvii. 6. 
 
 There are three sources of comfort in the hour 
 of sorrow — the future, the present, and the past. 
 The comfort of the future is anticipation — the 
 looking forward to better things. The comfort of 
 the present is strength — the support of an invisible 
 hand. The comfort of the past is memory — a 
 recalling of the experience of former days. The 
 psalmist is here speaking of the last of these. It 
 is interesting to observe where he thinks the special 
 comfort of memory to lie. He does not seek it 
 where I should expect him to seek it. I should 
 9xpect him to recall life's unclouded days, to bring 
 up to remembrance whatever moments he has had 
 of unqualified joy. He does not. On the contrary, 
 he seeks the proof of Divine help by going back 
 not to his bright, but to his chequered, hours, '* I 
 call to remembrance my song in the night." What 
 he says is this, '* Your best comfort from memory 
 is not the recalling of days when you had no cloud, 
 27sr 
 
The Comforting Spot in Memory 
 
 but the recalUng of days when you had mingled 
 cloud and sunshine — the memory that the song 
 could exist in the sorrow." Why is the memory 
 of these chequered moments the psalmist's best 
 comfort in tribulation ? It is because they reveal 
 a phase of God's presence which is not revealed 
 by the remembrance of unqualified joy. If I am 
 in grief, I would rather remember that God once 
 rescued me than that He once regaled me. If I 
 am lying among the thorns, it is no great solace to 
 know that yesterday God laid me among the 
 flowers ; if that were all, it might mean that He 
 can only love the beautiful. But if I can remem- 
 ber how, when yesterday I lay among the thorns, 
 He planted flowers beside me — if I can remember 
 that His song came to me at the very moment 
 when the pulse of life beat low, then indeed I get 
 from retrospect a unique revelation — God's pre- 
 sence in calamity. Every Jew believed in His 
 presence outside calamity. Every son of Israel 
 recognised His favour in man's song and His 
 absence in man's night. But the psalmist wants 
 more. He wants to feel that the night may itself 
 have a song, that the cloud may itself have a bow, 
 that the thorn may itself be environed by a rose. 
 God's glory to him is His presence in the gloom. 
 Lord, I am grateful for the memory of green 
 273 s 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 pastures and quiet waters ; but in the hour of 
 sorrow my comfort is another remembrance — Thy 
 rod in the path that is rugged, Thy staff in the 
 waters that are not still. Methinks when I look 
 back I never see Thee so clearly as in Thy coming 
 with clouds; Thou art brightest against a dark 
 ground. I do not say that I have never failed to 
 find an explanation ; but I have never failed to find 
 a rod and a staff. The comfort of memory is not 
 that I have traced my sorrows, but that I have 
 sustained my sorrows. In looking back I do not 
 always see my emergence from the shadow ; but 
 I can always see that there was support in the 
 shadow. How do I know that Thy rod and Thy 
 staff were with me ? Simply because I did not 
 die. My retrospective marvel is just that I have 
 got through. I do not understand how I have got 
 through. I only know that my own strength 
 could not have done it, that my own unaided steps 
 could not have done it. Something must have 
 kept me up. Something must have helped me to 
 walk through the valley of the shadow. It was 
 Thy rod and Thy staff, O Lord. It is this which 
 makes the dearest spot in my memory the valley 
 of the shadow itself — not the pastures green, not 
 the still waters. In the pastures green Thou wert 
 with me in my greatness ; by the still waters Thou 
 274 
 
The Comforting Spot in Memory 
 
 wert with me in my strength. But in the valley 
 of the shadow Thou wert with me in my weak- 
 ness. It was a meeting of extremes. Thy mercy 
 came to my meanness; Thy power came to my 
 poverty ; Thy hand came to my heaviness ; Thy 
 bracing came to my burden ; Thy song came to 
 my sigh ; Thy life came to my lowliness ; Thy 
 radiance came to my rags ; Thy glory came to my 
 grief. The most comforting spot to me will always 
 be the valley where I heard Thy song. 
 
 275 s 2 
 
THE FIRST SYMPTOM OF 
 CONVERSION 
 
 "And Saul arose from the earth; and when his eyes were 
 opened, he saw no man." — Acts ix. 8. 
 
 The immediate effect of Saul's illumination was 
 a sense of darkness. It seems " a wild paradox. 
 But in the spiritual world it is the experience or 
 every enlightened man. It is true even of secular 
 development. The first manifestation of every 
 mental light is a sense of mystery. It does not 
 exist in the child. Children have not a feeling of 
 mental blindness. They are not conscious of 
 difficulty, are not overawed by the things around 
 them. They do not experience the need of picking 
 their steps or walking warily. They appear, to 
 themselves, to see everything plainly. The reason 
 is that the light has not come and that therefore 
 the sense of blindness has not come. The first 
 effect of larger light will be decreasing confidence. 
 There will come by-and-by a stage called wonder. 
 What is wonder ? I should define it to be the 
 soul's sense of its inability to see. We begin to 
 marvel at a thing when we find that we do not see 
 276 
 
The First Symptom of Conversion 
 
 through it ; and what enables us to have the 
 experience is an increase of mental light. The 
 feeling of incompetency in the inward eye is 
 created by the new flash of intelligence. So is it 
 in the religious life. When God illuminates a 
 soul the new power of vision manifests itself as 
 mist. When Saul of Tarsus gets his enlighten- 
 ment he experiences for the first time an inability 
 to walk alone. The immediate gift of God to him 
 is a sense of insufficiency. He had not felt it 
 yesterday ; his prevalent feeling yesterday was a 
 sense of individual power. But to-day the light 
 has come and the self-sufficiency has died. He is 
 unable to find his way along the same road on 
 which yesterday he strutted with the most confident 
 and fearless step. It is the same road, the same 
 company, the same outward man; what makes the 
 difference ? An inward something — light. It is 
 that which makes him feel the sense of impotence; 
 it is that which makes him cry, "O wretched man 
 that I am ! " If a grown man got his sight for the 
 first time, he would for the first time feel blind. 
 He would cease to find his way in the old paths ; 
 he would need to be led about awhile. So with 
 God's illumination. It makes old things new, 
 and therefore I do not recognise them ; it causes 
 me to cry out for the leading of my Father. 
 277 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 Lord, Thou hast arrested me on my Damascus 
 journey; Thou hast transformed self-consciousness 
 into humihty. I set out on the road with bound- 
 less belief in myself; I felt no obstacle, I experi- 
 enced no difficulty. Suddenly, at a turning of the 
 way my soul grew paralysed. The confidence 
 faded. The world no longer stretched before me 
 as a pleasure-ground. There came a mist over 
 the scene, and I could not find my way. It all 
 happened in the meeting with one man — a man 
 from Nazareth. Before I met Him, my pride of 
 self was unbounded ; I said in my heart, " I shall 
 carve my own destiny." But one glance at the 
 man of Nazareth laid me low. My fancied glory 
 became ashes ; my imagined strength became 
 weakness; I beat upon my breast and cried, 
 ** Unclean ! " Shall I repine because I met that 
 man ! Shall I weep because a flash of light at a 
 street corner threw all my greatness into shade ! 
 No, my Father, for the shade is the reflex of the 
 sheen. It is because I have seen Thy beauty that 
 humanity has grown dim. It is enlargement that 
 has made me humble. I have gazed for a moment 
 on a perfect ideal, and its brightness has eclipsed 
 my candle. It is not night, but day, that blinds 
 me to my own possessions. It is light that makes 
 me loathe myself. It is sunshine that reveals my 
 278 
 
The First Symptom of Conversion 
 
 soiledn8Ss. It is dawn that tells me of my dark- 
 ness. It is morning that discloses my mean 
 attire. It is the glow that spots my garments. It 
 is the clearness that numbers my clouds. O God, 
 my God, I only lose my way when I am lit by 
 Theei 
 
 279 
 
REJUVENESCENCE 
 
 "How can a man be born when he is old ? " — John hi. 4. 
 
 It has been thought by some that Nicodemus 
 uttered these words because he was an old man. 
 I do not think he was ; old people do not travel 
 alone in the night. Nor is the idea of personal 
 old age implied in the question. Christ had 
 declared the universal need for a second birth. 
 Nicodemus says : "At that rate, all the aged 
 unbelievers will remain unconverted. There is no 
 hope of changing habits of thought which have 
 become inveterate. The young may take on new 
 ideas ; but the old cannot. In order to do so, 
 they would require to perform the impossible feat 
 of passing through the process of birth a second 
 time." The language of Nicodemus is not per- 
 sonal but sympathetic ; he is not thinking of 
 himself, but of others. Christ tells him, however, 
 that there is no age-limit for the second birth of a 
 soul. " The wind bloweth where it listeth ; so is 
 every one that is born of the Spirit." He says in 
 effect : " The spirit has liberty at every age ; it 
 280 
 
Rejuvenescence 
 
 can sweep the woods of autumn equally with the 
 fields of spring. The flesh has a limit of years — a 
 limit beyond which it can renew itself no more. 
 But the spirit can break into morning at midnight, 
 into June in January, into foliage in the frost of 
 winter. The lark in the soul may sing in the 
 evening. The dawn in the heart may come at the 
 closing. The joy of the life may wait for the 
 setting. The spirit of a man may be raised even 
 at the last day." That is what Jesus meant ; and 
 it is true. We speak of the burdens of age ; 
 and it has burdens. But, say as you will, there 
 are burdens which age removes, and these the 
 heaviest ones. Care presses most upon the morn- 
 ing, just because it is the morning. I am more 
 troubled by shadows in hope than by shadows in 
 memory. Earth is uncertain in my early hours ; 
 and uncertainty is unfavourable to song. But in 
 life's evening I can sing. I have no longer to 
 provide for myself. Personal outlook is ended; 
 what remains is for God to do— not for me. It 
 seems the true time for being young — the careless 
 time, the free time, the spiritually unweighted 
 time. No wonder Jacob carolled then with the 
 first song of his life ! No wonder he swept, in 
 age, the harp-strings that in his youth were silent ! 
 He had no longer to provide for his youth by a 
 281 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 stair, for his pillow by a stone, for his daybreak 
 by a wrestling of the soul. The wings of the 
 spirit came when the wings of the morning had 
 rest. 
 
 Lord, give me the spirit of youth ! Forbid that 
 in my old age men should say, ** He belongs to a 
 former generation " ! I want to belong to the 
 newest generation. I want my spirit to light its 
 torch not at yesterday's but at to-morrow's sky. 
 I want to be numbered with the race that is com- 
 ing in rather than with the race that is going out. 
 I can be so numbered ; my spirit can be born again 
 when I am old. I refuse to subscribe to that 
 moral of the fleeting years — *' We all do fade as a 
 leaf." Not as a leaf would I fade, but as a dawn. 
 I would lose myself only in larger light. I would 
 fade in a fuller radiance, I would merge in a 
 mightier stream. If my taper expire, let it be in 
 tints of gold ! Kindle me again at the fire of the 
 new generation ! Let my heart catch the glow of 
 the coming sun ! However old my flesh may be, 
 let my sympathies be young ! Write my name 
 among the early sons of this century! Interest 
 me in their problems ; inspire me with their aims ; 
 inflame me with their larger view ! Give me 
 fellowship with the love-feast of Cana; let not 
 romance be rusted by life's afternoon ! Give me 
 282 
 
Rejuvenfjscence 
 
 sympathy with the hour of first temptation; 
 remind me of Hfe's primitive hunger ! Give me 
 tenderness for youth's aspirings ; let me stand on 
 its mount of beatitudes and see its coming 
 kingdom ! Give me kindliness even to early pre- 
 sumption ; let me forgive James and John for 
 underrating the depth of the cup ! The climax 
 of Thy leading is to make me young when I am 
 old. 
 
 283 
 
THE MORAL TAUGHT BY THE 
 IDLE THESSALONIANS 
 
 " We hear that there are some which walk among you 
 disorderly, working not at all." — 2 Thes. hi. ii. 
 
 The disorderliness here spoken of was the result 
 not of religious unbelief but of religious convic- 
 tion. These Thessalonians refused to work on 
 earth because they looked for an immediate advent 
 of heaven. Christ was coming; He might be 
 expected any hour of any day. What was the 
 use of beginning work which might be interrupted 
 ere it was half done ! Why start the building of 
 a house when there was imminent expectation of 
 a house not made with hands ! Why launch a 
 ship for the voyage when the time was about to 
 come in which there should be no more sea ! 
 Why teach the boy at school when tongues were 
 about to cease and knowledge to vanish away ! 
 Why study human politics when the kingdoms 
 of this world were to become the kingdom of 
 the Lord and of His Christ ! So asked the 
 Thessalonian workmen ; and in answer they folded 
 284 
 
The Moral Taught by the Idle Thessalonians 
 
 their hands in rest. They deemed it a waste oi 
 time to labour at structures which might ere long 
 be superseded. It was to counteract such a spirit 
 that Paul wrote this epistle. It is to my mind 
 the most peculiar writing in the Bible. It is the 
 only book of Scripture I know v/hich is written 
 with the express design of moderating the sense 
 of another world. Paul seeks to throw a veil 
 over the coming of Christ. He feels that the 
 Thessalonians have too near a view of heaven — a 
 view so near that it makes them unpractical 
 towards the earth. He restores their practicalness 
 by shrouding their vision — by bringing a cloud 
 over the transfiguration glory. And truly we 
 have all a lesson to learn here. There is nothing 
 of which we complain so persistently as the 
 silence of God. Here the silence of God is made 
 a form of His benevolence — a thing necessary for 
 the perpetuation of the world. We are shown the 
 picture of an earth arrested by the overwhelming 
 prominence of heaven. We are made to see what 
 would be the effect of a letter from the sky telling 
 that the time was brief. It might stimulate the 
 missionary, it might benefit the evangelist ; but to 
 every other profession it would be paralysis. It 
 would disband the army and navy. It would 
 impoverish the lawyer. It would dull the trade 
 285 
 
Thoughts for Life's Journey 
 
 of the merchant. It would arrest authorship. It 
 would stop education. It would impede the wings 
 of medical science. It would give a quietus to 
 philanthropy. It would cause to seem superfluous 
 the help of man to man. 
 
 Therefore, O Lord, I thank Thee for the cloud 
 that mingles with my sunshine. I thank Thee 
 that there is a mist on the other side of the river. 
 I have often lamented that the op]3osite bank is 
 not more luminous ; but I have changed my mind. 
 I should not care to beautify the bank on which I 
 dwell if I saw the other side too clearly. I often 
 bless Thee for Thy revelations ; do I sufficiently 
 bless Thee for Thy silences ? But for Thy silence 
 I should have no speech. Should I ever provide 
 for my children if Thy provision were made 
 plain ? Should I ever clothe the poor if I saw 
 Thy hand weaving their garments ? Should I 
 ever redeem the lapsed if I beheld Thine angels 
 streaming forth to save them ? My efforts would 
 be ended ; my love would be lost ; my charity 
 would be chilled ; my pity would be plucked up 
 by the roots. What Thou cravest is not provision 
 but my providing. It is to my care Thou hast 
 entrusted my brother. It is to teach me my 
 responsibility that Thou hast kept silence. If I 
 heard the heavenly music, I should relax my toil. 
 286 
 
The Moral Taught by the Idle Thessalonians 
 
 It is the mist that moves me ; it is the need that 
 nerves me ; it is the doubt that dedicates me ; it 
 is the peril that prompts me ; it is the unseenness 
 that stimulates me. I have gained more by Thy 
 silence than by Thy song. Thy song gives me 
 faith and hope, but Thy silence teaches me charity; 
 for it is the uncertainty of hfe that sends me to the 
 help of my brother, and it is the mystery of 
 to-morrow that wakes my sympathy with man. 
 

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