REV. HAROLD F. PrtiFCrir tihvaxy of Che Cheolo0ical ^tminavy PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY PRESENTED BY The Estate of the Rev. Harold F, Pelle^Tlr. . BV 4315 .N52~ ] Nicoll, W. Robertson 1851- 1923 , The expositor's treasury of children's sermons THE EXPOSITOR'S TREASURY OF CHILDREN'S SERMONS THE ^^OFPc^ ^V 04 1941 ■ OF EXPOSITOR'S TREASUMf ; CHILDREN'S SERMONS EDITED BY SIR W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL. D. AND JANE T. STODDART HODDER AND STOUGHTON NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY / CONTENTS PAGE GENESIS 1 EXODUS 62 LEVITICUS 86 NUMBERS 90 DEUTERONOMY 100 JOSHUA 109 JUDGES 116 RUTH 122 THE FIRST BOOK OF SAMUEL . . .124 THE SECOND BOOK OF SAMUEL . .155 THE FIRST BOOK OF KINGS . . . l6l THE SECOND BOOK OF KINGS . . .180 THE FIRST BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES 196 THE SECOND BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES 198 EZRA 206 NEHEMIAH 207 ESTHER 216 JOB . 218 PSALMS 239 PROVERBS 336 ECCLESIASTES 376 SONG OF SOLOMON 3S5 ISAIAH 393 JEREMIAH 425 LAMENTATIONS 439 EZEKIEL 442 DANIEL 447 HOSEA 460 JOEL 462 JONAH 465 NAHUM . ZEPHANIAH . HAGGAI . ZECHARIAH . MALACHI ST. MATTHEW ST MARK . ST. LUKE . ST. JOHN . THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES THE EPISTLE TO THE ROMANS THE FIRST EPISTLE TO THE CORINTHIANS 675 THE SECOND EPISTLE TO THE CORINTH lANS THE EPISTLE TO THE GALATIANS . THE EPISTLE TO THE EPHESIANS . THE EPISTLE TO THE PHILIPPIANS THE EPISTLE TO THE COLOSSIANS THE FIRST EPISTLE TO THE THESSAL ONIANS THE FIRST EPISTLE TO TIMOTHY THE SECOND EPISTLE TO TIMOTHY THE EPISTLE TO TITUS . THE EPISTLE TO PHILEMON . THE EPISTLE TO THE HEBREWS THE EPISTLE OF JAMES . THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER . THE SECOND EPISTLE OF PETER THE FIRST EPISTLE OF JOHN . THE EPISTLE OF JUDE THE BOOK OF REVELATION PAGB 467 469 472 474 479 484 556 576 613 646 664 685 693 699 706 712 714 716 727 732 734 736 745 749 752 754 756 76c GENESIS GENESIS THE FOOTPRINTS OF QOD * In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.' — Genesis i. 2. ' In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.' There is a difference between ' creating ' and ' making '. If you look at the third verse of the second chapter, it says ' God created and made '. ' Creating ' and ' making ' are not the same thing. A carpenter viakes a box ; a carpenter does not create a box. God created the carpenter. God created his mind to think about the box ; the hon, to make the hinges ; and the tree, to make the wood. lUit what is ' creating ' ? Supposing now you could think of something ; and because you think of it, there it is, in a moment. Supposing in your mind you could think of a star, and there is the star ! Be- cause you thought of it, there it is. I cannot say exactly what ' creating ' is. It is something like that. God is such a great God. There was a \ery wise man, who lived many, many hundreds of years ago. His name was Simonides. People c^me to him, because he was one of the wisest men that ever lived ; and they said to him, ' What is God, Simonides ? ' He said, ' Give me a day to think about it '. They came to him the next day, and said, ' What is God, Simonides ? ' He said, ' Give me a week to think about it '. After a week had passed, they came to him again, and said, ' What is God, Simonides ? ' He said, ' Give me a month to think about it '. They came again to him at the end of a month, and they said, ' What is God, Simonides ? ' He said, ' Give me a year to think about it '. At the end of a year, they came to him, and said, ' What is God, Simonides ? ' And he said, ' I am no nearer than when I fiist began to think about it. I cannot tell what God is.' But I will tell you what an Arab said. Somebody came to an Arabian, in his tent in the desert, and said to hiu), ' How do you know there is a God ? ' He said, ' How do I know whether it was a man or a camel that went by my tent last night ? ' How did he know which it w as ? ' By the lootprints.' The marks in the sand showed whether it was a man's foot or a camel's foot that had passed his tent. So the Aiab said, ' That is the way I know God. I know Him by His footprints, 'fhey are His foot- prints that are all around me.' We are going to think about ' God's footprints ' in the first chapter of Genesis — the marks of God's power. I. ' In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.' When was ' the beginning ' ? No one can answer that question. How long is it since Adrtm lived ? It was 4004 years from Adam to Christ. How long is it since Christ? 1874 years. Add them together, and you will find it is 5878 years since God made Adam. Was that ' the beginning ' ? Not a bit ; that has nothing to do with it. ' In the beginning ' — perhaps that was hundreds of thousands and even millions of years ago — ' in the beginning God created the heaven and the earth '. God's arranging and making it is what we are going to think about at present. But when God ' created ' it, brought it out of nothing, I do not know how long it was ; nobody can tell that. Do you under- stand the difference ? The first chapter of Genesis is about God arranging and making it as we have it now II. On the first day, God made 'light'; on the second day, ' the firmament ' ; on the third day, ' eaith and water, herbs and trees ' ; on the fourth day, ' sun, moon, and stars ' ; on the fifth day, 'fishes, fowls, and birds'; and on the sixth day, ' man '. Did the greatest thing come first or last ? Did it always go on improving ? Did God make things that live fii-st, or things without life ? Things without life. What sort of life did He make first ? Vegetable life, the life of herbs and trees ; then, annual life, the life of animals ; then, what life next? Human life. So it got up higher and higher. Things inanimate, without life ; then, things with vegetable life ; then, things with animal life ; then, human life : always higher, and higher, and higher. Man goes lower, and lower, and lower ; down, and down, and down; God gets higher, and higher, and higher ; up, and up, and up ! Another thing. Did God ever make anything till He had first made the things that thing would want ? What would herbs and trees want ? earth, light, water. They were all made before He made the herbs and trees. What would the cattle want ? They would want grass, and God made grass before He made cattle. What did we want ? Everything to serve us — all made for us — before we were born. III. God never made anything till He had first made what that thing would want. Remember that all through life. God will never put you anywhere till He has provided for you all that you will want to be happy there, and to do your duty there. There was a philoso])her, a great man in Aber- deen, his name was Dr. Beattie : he had a little boy who was just able to read, about five yeai"s old. Dr. Beattie wanted to teach his little boy about God ; and how do you think he did it ? He went into the Ver. 5. GENESIS I Ver. 27. garden, and in a comer, with his finger, he made in the ground the lettere of his little boy's name ; and when he had made those marks in the ground, he put some mustard and cress in those lines. About ten days after that, his little boy came running into his study one day, saying, ' Father, father, there is my name coming up in my garden '. He could just read it The father said, ' Nonsense ! nonsense ! There cannot be your name in the garden. Don't talk like that.' He said, ' Father, come and see '. He took him out, and there was his name in the garden. The father said, ' There is nothing remarkable in that, it all came by chance '. The little boy pulled his father by the coat into the house, and said, ' I do not think it came by chance, father. It could not come bv chance.' "The father said, ' Do you think somebody put it there, then? ' 'Yes, I do, father,' said the little boy, ' I think somebody must have put it there.' Then his father began to tell him about God. 'That is just the way with you,' he said. ' Somebody mus< have made you. You are more wonderful than that mustard and cress.' IV. On the sixth day the Lord said of everything that He had made, ' Behold, it is very good '. When did God begin to bless ? On what day ? Did you ever notice ? After He had made the fishes, and the cattle, and man, He began to bless ; not before. At the very end of creation. He said it was ' Very good '. Then God was quite pleased, was He ? Is God quite pleased when He looks down on this church ? Is He quite pleased with you and me ? Not quite. Has not He verv great reason to be displeased ? Why was God quite pleased then ? Can you remember any time, after that, when God looked down upon this earth, and was quite pleased ? I think He was quite pleased when Jesus Christ came out of the water, out of Jordan. What did God say ? ' This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.' Do you think, in the four thousand years between, God had ever said that ? Never ! He was quite pleased then, because there was no sin in Jesus Christ. — James Vaughan. NIGHT ' The darkness He called night.' — Genesis i. 5. There are people who are afraid of the darkness of the night, who go in fear along a country lane in the dark, and don't like to be alone in a room of their own house without a light. They must fancy that God goes to sleep in the night, and cannot take care of them as He does in the daytime. There are even people so wicked as to talk to children of Bogie, or the Black Man, who may come to do them hurt in the darkness. I hope you never tell such tales to your little brother or sister, because to tell a lie which frightens some one is the worst kind of lyinf. You know that God never slumbers nor sleeps. He makes us sure of that by the things which He does in the night. He has made many flowers to bloom in the darkness — the evening primrose, the great water- lily, the convolvulus, and a great number of other flowers. One of the largest flowers is called the Queen of the Night. You may have noticed some evening the change which came over a field where one of our English flowers grows in abundance — catchfly, as it is called. Before sunset not a flower was to be seen, but when the sun went down the field became white with them. Then there are more butterflies on the wing in the darkness than there are in the daylight. It is true, the scientific men don't call them butterflies, but you and I may very properly call them butterflies of the night. Many caterpillars feed by night, and some of the most richly coloured beetles are asleep all day and busy in the darkness. One of the sweetest songsters among the birds sings by night. And one reason why flowers open in the dark, and butterflies sip their nectar in the night is, I believe, that you should be sure that God is not slumbering or sleeping, but keeps watch over us all by night as well as by day. Have you ever thought that night is just the shadow of the world, which stretches out on the side of the eai'th opposite to the sun, like a great conical cap, thousands of miles broad at its base, but tapering till it is no bigger than half-a-crown, and at last until it is as fine as a camel-hair brush ? Sometimes the shadow sweeps across the moon, and we say that there is an eclipse of the moon. There are people who are frightened when they see the moon eclipsed. They are terrified by a shadow — the shadow of the world on which they live ! How strange it would be to live in a world which had no shadow ! And there are such worlds. They are lighted by two suns, and the inhabitants may see one sun rising while the other is setting. One wonders whether the people who live in such a world know as much as we do of the vastness of the do- minion of God For it is to night that we owe our knowledge of the greatness of the universe. If we had never seen the stars, how little we should know of the power and glory of God ! It is when we are being swept round through the shadow of the earth that we perceive that God has thousands and ten thousands of other suns than ours, and millions on millions of other worlds, which He is keeping and guiding through the immensitv of space as a shepherd leads his flock. Think of that when you read or repeat the twenty-third Psalm. The Lord who is your Shepherd is the Shepherd of myriads of worlds, and He thinks of the little flowers which open in the dark, and of the butterflies which flutter over them, drinking honey in the stillness of the night. Why should you be afraid of darkness, or of anything, since the mighty God watches over you through day and night, and life and death, and for ever ? — John A. Hamilton, The Wonderful River, p. 193. SELF-RESPECT 'God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him.' — Genesis i. 27. There are several reasons why we should cultivate self-i'espect. Ver. 27 GENESIS I Ver. 31. I. In the first place, we are made after the image of God : God has given us, what He had deiiiJed to the beasts, a free will and a divine soul. We are par- takers of God's nature. He breathed into the nostrils of Adam the breath of life, and man became a living soul. He stood on his feet, and something in himself told him that there was a God above him who had made him. The power in you to believe in God is the soul. The religious instinct which makes you turn to God, pray to God, trust in God, is the breath of God within you, the little spark of the Divine Nature lodged in your breasts. The beast and bii-d do not think of God, because they have no souls. They go through their allotted course, do what their instincts tell them to do, with- out a thought of their Creator, any more than a clock, or a railway engine, or a steamboat has of its maker. But with you it is quite different. The little child looks up to God, and can love and trust Him. It believes in Him without an effort. And this is because of the soul within, which comes from God, and turns to God. II. You were made in the image of God. Now what does that mean ? (1) First it means that you have spirit. God is a spirit. The animal when it dies ceases to be. But your spirit can live without a body. And at the Resurrection your bodies will be raised spiritual, that is, they will be able to do that which only spirits can do now, and go whei-e only spirits can go now. Then again, God is eternal. And you are born to eternity. There never will be a time when you will not be. Thousands of years will pass, but you will still exist. Then again, God is a Creator. He makes things out of nothing. He calls into existence thin'zs that were not. We to some extent pai-take in His creative power ; we have a gift in us called the imagination, by means of which we can call up out of nothing forms that are not, and by various means give them a sort of actual existence. For instance, a painter, or a sculptor, forms an idea in his head, and he carries it out in a picture or a statue. A musician creates a beautiful melody, and gives it existence by singing it, and playing it on the piano. Another invents a story, and calls up all sorts of persons and scenes and creates all sorts of incidents and situations, and in a book gives them a sort of real existence. Now of course these are all very inferior sorts of crea- tion, but, no doubt, after the Resurrection we shall be able to create as God creates, and one of the delights of eternity will be the delight of creating. You see, we are partakers of the Divine Nature, sons of God, made in the image of God. Is not that a great reason for respecting ouKelves ? (2) But there is another reason. Jesus Christ has redeemed us. Each one of us is ransomed by His precious blood. For our sakes, be- cause He loved and esteemed us. He took human natui-e upon Him. (3) And once more. You will live for ever, in body and soul. Your bodies will be raised, and made glorious, like unto Christ's gloinous body, no more to see corruption. Now you receive your bodies for a little while. They grow, and become old, and decay. But you will re- ceive your bodies again once more. You will wake up after Christ's likeness, endowed with strength, health, youth, and glory. No more shall they wax old, no more suff'er pain, no more languLsh with want. They shall retain ever the bloom of youth. It was a custom among the ancient Romans for a son to bear, hung round his neck, a piece of silver or gold, on which was stamped his father's image. It was thought a gi-eat honour thus to be adorned. There was a family illustrious for its virtues and the greatness of the great men it had reared. This was the family of the Scipios. At last there came a young Scipio, who forgot the dignity of his family, and the nobility of the name he bore, and disregarded the example of his father. He behaved so badly and unworthily, that the Senate of Rome decreed that the seal of his father should be taken from him, as he was unworthy to bear his father's image and name on his bosom. A Christian bears the image of his Father, and Redeemer, and great Example, not on his breast, but in his heart ; not stamped on silver or gold, but written deeply in the fleshy tables of his heart. He is bound to behave as a Christian, to walk worthy of his heavenly Father, and to follow the example of his Saviour. If he does not he forfeits his right to be called a Christian. MAKING THE BEST OF EVERYTHING ' And God saw every thing that He had made, and, behold, it was very good.' — Genesis i. 31. There are two ways of looking at everything and two vvays of speaking of everything. One way is to see all the bad there is in it, and to speak of it, and so to find fault with everything and everybody. The other way is to see what good there is in it, and to speak of it to others. This is God's way. AVhen He had created the sun, moon, stars, and the earth, and all that in them is. He ' saw every thing that He had made, and, behold, it was very good '. Now which is the better way, to find the good in every- thing, or to find the bad in everything ? Let us see which is better. You will see the importance of this question when you think how easy it is to form the habit of finding fault or of finding good in everything. We fall easily into habits, — into the habit of carrying our hands in our pockets, of throwing our caps down any- where, of biting the finger-nails, of doing everything we do in a certain way and not in another way, — and so we fall into tbe habit of seeing spots, defects, wrongs, whatever is bad, or into the habit of seeing the good there is in everything, and speaking of it. We are creatures of habit, and when a habit is once formed it is hard breaking it. This we all know who Ver. 31 GENESIS I., II have tried to break off a bad habit. Another thing I want you to remember. It is this : that as we foi-m good or bad habits, we shall be happy or miser- able. But that is not all : as we form good or bad habits, we make others happy or miserable. And this is not all : just as we form good or bad habits, we please or displease God. Remember these three things. But you say that there are so many things wrong that we cannot help finding fault with them. No doubt if vou had looked out on the world which God made, at the time it was finished, you would have found many things to find fault with, — the weather, the rain and snow, the heat and cold, the snakes and flies, and other things too numerous to mention — but God called them all ' very good '. And now we have plenty of things to fret at and find fault with, if we will only form the habit of doing so. But there are reasons why we should make the best of everything ; and we will tell you what they are, that you may form the habit of looking always on the bright side. I. Your own good should lead you to make the best of everything. To pick out flaws, to see defects, to find all the ugly and bad things, and to dwell on them, is not good for your own soul. There is noth- ing cheering and eimobling in it. If you have ten apples, nine of them good and one bad, it is folly for you to fret over the one bad apple so as to lose the good of eating the nine sweet apples. So, if there were nine good things and one bad, make the most of the nine and let the one go. Or, if there were nine bad and only one good, it were wise to make the best of the one and let the nine go. What is the use of spoiling the good because of the bad ? Our own happiness depends on our passing by the bad and seeing what is good. This is one reason whv we should make the best of everything. When I was a boy my mother told me a story about a woman who had a great many troubles and hardships and trials, more than any one of us have ever had to bear. Everything seemed to go against her ; yet she was one of the happiest beings that ever lived. Others, who did not have half so much to try them as she had, were miserable and fretful and fault-finding. What made her so happy in her poverty i* This : she saw the good in everything, and her loving heavenly Father's hand behind everything ; and so she used to say when any new trouble came to her : ' It is all for the best ; it is all for the best '. She got out of everything all the good there was in it, and let the bad go. But if she had looked at the bad and talked of it, she would have made herself miserable indeed. She would have been fretful, cross, fault-finding, unhappy, as miserable as some of us make ourselves over our little troubles. A mother told me the other day that her boy had once fallen from a tree and cut his face, and that for a long time she had mourned over the scar that was left, until one day it flashed into her mind how un- grateful it was to grieve over the scar when her boy had not been killed by the fall. After that she never saw the scar without joy that her child had been spared. She at first looked on the dark side, then on the bright side, and where before she had sorrow, now she has gladness of heart. May we not find joy by looking on the bright side of things ? II. The good of others should lead us to make the best of everything. We help to make otheis happy or miserable. We ought to do what we can to make them happy, and we shall, if we look on the bright side of things. But if we tell over to them every pain, ache, and trouble we have, we shall make our- selves and them miserable. If we, on the other hand, see the good things God has done for us, and sj^eak of them, and smile through our tears, and feel and say that all is for the best, we shall fill their lives with joy and gladness. We shall make them happy. We want you, then, to make the best of every- thing. Say with Gud : ' Behold, it was very good '. — A. Hastings Ross, Sermons for Children, p. 35. THE BIRD AND THE KING Genesis u. All the tears in the world have their spring in an unholy heart. If we had the hearts which God wished us to have, there would be no tears. It is because we have lost these hearts that we have tears to shed. When God made oui- first parents. He gave them a heart without teai-s. He said to them, Do not spoil it, nor lose it, for the heart that will come into its place will be filled with tears. This heart is sometimes called in the Bible the living soul ; some- times the iynage of God ; but to-day we shall call it the holy heart of Eden. I wish I could tell you how beautiful this heart was. There is nothing I could mention to be com- pared with it for beauty. Not gold or silver, or crystal or diamonds. It was more beautiful than flowers, or stare, or moons, or suns, or summer skies. Beautiful is a green hill-side all sprinkled over with daises and buttercups, and white lambs feeding on the tender grass. Very beautiful is the wide blue sea, with ships sailing on its bosom, and little children playing on its yellow shore. But far more beautiful was the tearless heart which God gave to Adam and Eve in Eden. It was beautiful like His own — a heart like the heart of Him who has madeall beautiful things. Alas I our hearts are no longer like the heart of God. The holy heart of Eden has been lost. In our hearts now there are wrong wishes, wrong thoughts, wrong tempers, wrong deeds. None of these were in the holy heart of Eden. There was nothing bad in that beautiful heart. If that heart had been kept, there would have been no sadness in the world. There would have been neither tears nor death in the world. But now the world is full of both tears and death. Always, over all the world, some are dying, and othere are weeping, and many are doing wicked things. And death and tears and wickedness are all so many proofs that the happy heart of Eden has been lost. 4 GENESIS II You can see by this that there is something for which both old and young have cause to weep. The holy, beautiful heart, which God intended us t6 have, has been lost. And we can never be truly happy, we can never be truly good, till we get it back again. Without it we can never see Jesus, nor be like Him, nor be with Him in heaven. It is worth more than the whole world for us to get it back again. Jesus is very earnest about this lost heart. He did not merely speak about it, He came from heaven to win it back for you. He died on the bitter cross that we might have it back. Listen to a simple parable : — The king of a warm and sunny country had a little bird, which he loved and kept in a garden he had planted for itself. Eveiy morning the little bird rose out of its nest among the leaves, and went up through the balmy air, singing the sweetest songs, up to the king's palace on the mountain top, and was fed from the king's hand, and spent the day with the king. But the bird grew tired of its happines.s — the foolish, foolish bird ' — and one morning it turned its head from the palace, and from the bread in the king's hand. And it bade farewell to the garden, and to the nest among the leaves. And it flew away, and away, and away, through the clouds, and over hills, and fields, and seas, until it lost sight of the sunny land where its garden lay, and came to a land of winter, where the ice was mountains high, and snow lay always on the ground. And there, in that cold country, the little bird grew cold. It could sing its pleasant songs no more. No kind kin;^ was there to reach out his warm hand with crumbs of bread. It was perishing with cold and hunger. Its little heart grew cold, and it fell upon the snow, and lay there. And to look at, the bird was frozen, and stiff, and dead. That night the loving stars, looking down from the sky, saw the little bird ou the snow ; and as their own light glanced back to them from the frozen feathei-s, they cried, ' Alas, for the beautiful bird ! ' Next morning the angels of God, who go to and fro through the earth to do His will, came to the country where the little bird was lying ; and they stooped to the ground and felt the bird, and it was cold ; and they put their hands above its lieart, and that was cold. And they said, 'Alas, for the beauti- ful bird ! and alas, for him to whom the bird be- longsd ! and alas, for the chilled heart of the poor bird, into which the warm life shall never enter again ! ' But while the angels were lamenting, they heard a voice behind them saying, ' My bird was lost, and is found. Give the bird to Me.' And the angels lifted up their eyes, and beheld Him from whom the voice cam° And they bowed their heads before Him. For He was their own king, and the king of the warm and sunny land. He had followed His bird over mountains and seas. The people of the cold country had used Him cruelly. He was all covered with wounds and blood. But He took the dead bird from the angels into His wounded hands, and put it into His bosom, close to His warm heart. And the heat went from His heart into the heart of the binl, and it began to breathe and then to stir, and then to chirp. And then the king fed it with crumbs, and then He carried it back to the warm country, and to the garden He had planted for it, and to its nest among the leaves. And soon it was once more going up, morning after morning, as in the former time, up through the balmy air, singing its sweet old songs, up to the palace gate, and to the company of its king. The happy, happy bird ! I think you know what this parable means. When our first parents had the holy heart of Eden they could sing the sweetest songs, and their souls went up like a bird to the very gate of heaven, and they were fed from the open hand of God. But when they lost that heai't, they lost the songs too, and fed no longer from the open hand of God, and went up no more to the gate of heaven. They departed from God, and from Eden, and went far away, through the mists and clouds of evil, into a land where there was neither God nor gate of heaven. They went into the land of sin. And sin froze up their songs ; and put a chill into their hearts, and tears into their eyes. And there they would have miserably perished ; but the loving Jesus came after them, sought them o.if, and found them, and took them up in His arms, and put the holy heart of Eden into their souls again. And Jesus is offering this heart to every boy and girl, and to every man and woman in the world. And He has commanded me to offer it, in His name, to every one of you. The very youngest of you may have back again the holy heart of Eden. Only try to understand how Jesus loves you ; only cry to God to help you to love Him in return. Love to Jesus is the lost heart come back again. And when it is once back, all badness shall go away fi'om you, all tears shall be dried up. You will be happy, like our first parents in the Garden of Eden. You will be holv, like the holy Jesus Himself. And if you accept His gracious offer, He will give you songs of heaven to sing, and open heaven's gate for you, and admit you into the presence of His Father, and give you bread of heaven to eat, and dry up all your tears. I do not know whether you have quite understood all I have been saying. There are some things some of you may not be able to understand for a long time to come. And perhaps, after all I have said, you do not yet understand how you should have tears to be dried up. For you are young. Youreyes are bright, and your cheeks are brown with health. Your limbs are light, and your hearts are full of joy. But the time will come, when your hearts will be familiar with losses, and you will know, as well as we who are old, that every child of man has tears to shed. You appear to my eyes, at this moment, a stream of young and eager life. But the stream is moving onward, to manhood, to womanhood, to old age. The yellow locks must grow dim, and the black locks V^er. 7. GENESIS II Ver. 7. be turned to grey. And you will need a staff to sup- port your steps. And then you must bid farewell to old age too. And it will be Eternity. And then ? Ay, that is a main question — what then ? A few years ago, if those who love you had looked into the faces of all the children in this land, they would not have seen one of yours. A few years hence, and yourselves may look for some who love you to-day, and you will not find them. And in a few years after that, if an angel were to come down and look into every face in England, in Scotland, in the whole world, he would not see one face, of all the faces before me, among them all. It would make me happy to know that he should find them when he went back to heaven, if he were searching among the faces there. How happy we should be, if we who are here to- day were all to meet in heaven ! We should not then need to read about Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob : we should see them and speak with them face to face. And we should see Joseph, who had the coat of many colours ; and Moses, who was cradled in the river ; and David, who slew Goliath ; and Eli- jah, who went up in the fiery chariot; and Daniel, who was in the den of lions ; and the three children who were in the furnace , and Isaiah and Jeremiah, and Peter and James, and John and Paul. We should also see those holy women of whom the Bible tells : Mary, the mother of Jesus ; Elizabeth, the mother of John ; the sisters of Lazarus, and the widow who got back her son. And what is better than all, we should see Jesus Himself, and He would kindly look upon us and graciously speak to us, and take us with Him ' whithersoever He goeth '. ' And God shall wipe away all tears from our eyes.' — Alexander Macleod, Talking to the Children, p. 119. THE LIVING SOUL ' Man became a living soul.' — Genesis n. 7. What a wonderful thing the soul is I You cannot see it : you cannot hear it : you cannot touch it. Yet you know it is there. You do not want any proof that you have a soul. You are as sure of that as that you have a body. It tells vou itself Now I think I am wrong, after all, in saying that you have a soul. Ought I not to sav, vou are a soul ? Is not the soul really yourself? In truth, my children, it is the soul that has a body, not the body that has a soul ; for the soul is greater surelv than the bodv, and will last when the body is laid aside in death. Think how you speak of some one who is dead. You say, ' He is gone '. But the body is not gone. That is lying on the bed, and you can see it and touch it It is there still. So when you say 'He is gone,' vou mean by 'He' his soul, not his body. You speak quite rightly and truly then. And so the Bible speaks ; for it does not .say ' God gave man a living soul,' but man 'became a living soul '. The soul was himself. Now I am going to talk about the soul, and to try to help you to understand something about it. But, you must remember, it is a very difficult subject, and you nmst attend very closely, or you will not under- stand me. The soul — what is it ? Nay, I cannot tell you that. I can no more tell you what the soul is than what God is. 'God is a spirit,' and the soul is a spirit too. That is all I can tell you about the nature of the soul, and it does not help you much. But a spirit is like the wind. Though we cannot see it we can see what it does. We can see the trees bend, or the leaves tremble, or the clouds sail by, or the smoke blow one way, and we know the wind does it. So when you think, or remember, or hope, or intend, or love, or hate, or wish, or fear — what is it which does so ? The soul. Yes, all the important things you do the soul does, as we saw at first. So, though we cannot see the soul, we can see a great many things which show us it is there. Now I am going to try to explain to you a very difficult matter — how and why the soul acts. You must listen very attentively. I. First of all, you can all understand that God has put in your soul a great many different feelings and inclinations. You know what is meant by being inclined to anything. It means that something is drawing you to it. Love, hatred, desire, hope, joy, anger — these are some of the feelings and inclina- tions you find in your soul. II. Then, next, God has also set you in the midst of a great many things which stir and move and draw out these feelings and inclinations. You can all see that, as God has put love in your souls, so He has set vou where there are persons and things to love. As He has put hatred in your souls, so He has set you where there are persons and things to hata And so with all the rest. But in all these feelings you may be either right or wrong. If you love the persons and things you ought to love, and love them neither too much nor too little ; and hate the things you ought to hate, and hate them neither too much nor too little, then you are right. But if you love and hate the wrong things, or love or hate the right things too much or too little, then you are wrong. And so with all other feelings. But now we sorely want a guide. How are we to tell which feeling is right and which wrong? or what is the proper thing which ought to call out any feel- ing ? or how fai any feeling ought to be allowed to go ? Here God has helped us. For He has set in our souls two things which are meant to rule over, and keep in order, the rest. These two things are Reason and Conscience. Reason helps us to find out and understand what sort of things are right and wrong, and Conscience makes us feel whether the very thing we are doing, or thinking of doing, is right or wrong. Now all this is, I know, very hard for you ; but some of the older ones among you have, I hope, followed me so far. And now we will take an 6 Ver. 8. GENESIS II Ver. 8. example to make it plainer. A little boy is tempted to tell a lie. Fear drags him towards the Ije. Hope of escaping punishment, and desu'e to -'be thought well of, both pull him in the same direction. On the other side, a fear of God's anger holds him batk. And then Reason tells him a lie is very hate- ful to a God of truth, and reminds him that the devil is called the father of lies ; and Conscience makes him very uncomfortable in the thought of doing so wrong a thing. Now who or what shall decide ? Ah ! there is something yet in the soul to be spoken of. The Will. That must decide. God has given that boy, and all of us, free will. We can choose : we are not forced. I hope the boy would choose to be on the side of Reason and Conscience. But he must choose. Now, beyond all I have spoken of, there are two powers at work in the soul, of which I have said nothing, because they ai'e not part of the soul, but come from outside, as it were, to visit it. One power is on the side of the right, and that is the Holy Spirit of God ; and the other is on the side of the wrong, and that is the devil. You must not forget this. And you must not forget that the power of the Holy Spirit is far greater than the power of the devil, and is on your side, if you are on the side of the right. — Bishop Walsham How, Plain Words to Children, p. 29. FLOWERS AND THEIR USES 'The Lord God planted a garden.' — Genesis ii. 8. I WANT to point out to the children what indeed some gi'own-up people may have missed — -the beauti- ful touch which occurs in the Bible's story of the world's creation ; how ' God planted a garden '. It is in the midst of the chapters that tell how, with one creating word, God spake the vast heavens into being, and the round world ; how He said, ' Let light be,' and behold light was ! 'God planted a garden,' and with loving care decked it with flowers. A word called light into being ; but God took pains about the garden. There is a beautifully human and tender atmosphere in that. God cares so much for the flowers. He must be kind and gentle and patient. Have you not noticed that the people who love flowers very much are generally very nice people. We all love flowers, don't we ? A wise man once said that the very fact that the world is full of flowers shows that God must be love ; because only love could have made, would have made loveliness. I suppose we could live without flowers, just as there can be homes without kisses. But how poor and barren the world would be i There were not always flowers. When those plants whose fossils make our coal waved in the air, there were no flowers in the world ; for those plants were flowerless. Spring came once a year, but it had no smile of flowers such as now it weaves around the world, nor any fragrance of coming summer. God put flowers in the world and so helped to prepare the world for His children ; not until long after God had made flowers did He send men into the world. And now flowers are everywhere ; on the moorland, by the stream-side, in the high Alps, in the lowly dales, within the Arctic Circle where they measure their summer by hours, and in the Tropics where there is wonderful brilliance of colour. And every flower is a marvel wherever you find it, and the more you look at it the more perfectly you see its charm, fashioned more wonderfully than any gem. Flowers have no speech nor language, but their music goes through all the world, and their fragrance to the end of the earth. Flowers are nowhere out of place ; I do not know that I can say that of any- thing else. In a sickroom how they biighten the place, and ease the heart of the weary yet patient sufferer ! Do you know how the rose has come to be a rose ? Why, by being put to school ; once it was a very poor blossom indeed, but the gardeners saw what could be made of it ; so they have taught it and fed it, and with great care they have made it what it is to-day, and in your garden and mine the roses oi to-day are as diff'erent from the old roses, as Cinderella in her satin robes was difl^erent from Cinderella in her poor kitchen. And I daresay, if there are any roses with bad hearts (as I suppose there are), that they, coming across some of their old relatives, would in their pride turn askance from them and think very little of them indeed. But most of the roses have really lovely hearts. How do I know ? Because they are always pouring out their hearts in fragrance, giving their best. I sometimes wonder if I were blind what flowers I should like in my garden. Musk? Yes. Forget- me-not ? No ! What would be the use of it? But roses would be as beautiful to blind people almost — for their fragi'ance is so various and so subtle — almost as beautiful as they are to us, who have eyes to see their lovely forms. Now, what is the moral of this ? I never yet have had the impertinence to tack on morals to flowers. Why ? Because a flower is its own moral. If you care for flowers they do you good — if you love them and tend them, they will improve you. Dean Hole, of Rochester, who has written one of the most interesting books on flowers that ever has been wi'itten, tells strange stories in that book about his roses. One story that he tells is this, — that in Nottingham the workmen have in recent years learnt to love roses very, very much. One of Dean Hole's parish visitors was, when he was Rector in Nottingham, calling one cold winter on a very poor family indeed. She saw how thin the bed was (a man would not have noticed it ) ; her eyes saw that there were no blankets, whereupon she said, ' What ! didn't I give you some blankets only last week ? ' The poor woman said, ' Yes, ma'am, you did ' ; so the visitor said, ' Surely ! surely you haven't pawned them already ! ' and the cottager said, ' No, ma'am, but the weather is so cold Ver. 10. GENESIS II Ver. 15. that Tom,' her husband, 'took them to wrap up the rose-house at night to keep the frost out, and please ma'am we are as hot as can be in bed, and oh ! we don't feel the loss of it.' Thus do those people down at Nottinj^ham love their roses. And I never found anyone who loved flowers very much who was not very mufh the better. That is the moral. God planted a garden, let us tend the flowers. — Bernard T. Snell, The All-Enfolding Love, p. 13. A LOST RIVER ' And a river vsrent out of Eden to water the garden.'— Genesis II. lO. In the highest part of the island of Eigg, on the west coast of Scotland, you can see, beneath the hard black lava that tills it, traces of an old valley through which once flowed a noble river. The valley was scooped out of the rock by the action of the water for untold ages. At the bottom of the valley you can see pebbles that had been canned long distances and rubbed smooth against each other. And mixed with them you will find bits of fossil pine-trees, of a kind long extinct, which once grew on the banks of the river. Farther westward, there is an island that has on its surface another small fragment of the old river-bed, filled up, as on the island of Eigg, with lava. Only in these two places do you see traces of the ancient river. All the rest of its course has vanished, for the land over which it flowed has long ago been worn away by the sea. The lava which filled up the bed of the river was poured into it at a later period from some great burning mountain in the neighbourhood that has disappeared. From the marks left behind, you can infer that it was a great river, bigger than any river now in Britain. It flowed far westward into the Atlantic, over land where there is now only the wide deep sea. That is a very romantic story, written on one page of the ancient stone story-book of our own country. But the Bible tells you a more wonderful story still of a lost river. God planted at the beginning, when man came into the world, a lovely garden eastward in Eden ; and through it flowed a large river, which divided itself into four branches, and watered every part of the garden. You know that in the East, wherever a river flows, there all kinds of beautiful trees and flowers grow upon its banks, and the desert is changed into a garden. The bright verdure of Egvpt is created by the Nile ; and all the splendid gardens of fruit-trees around Damascus have been formed by the waters of the Abana. In like manner, it was the waters of its great river that preserved all the rich green life and freshness of the garden of Eden, and helped our fii-st parents to fulfil their task of dressing and keeping it. But through the disobedience of Adam and Eve the garden vanished. The river of Eden became a lost river, in some such way as the old geological river in the west of Scotland. Perhaps the Deluge, helped in this region by some great volcanic eruption that broke up the fountains of the deep, buried the fii-st home of man under the waters of the Indian Ocean, and a flaming sword kept the secret. The garden has never been revisited, nor has a trace of its existence been found. No more can the race of man wander on the banks of the lost river, or drink of its waters, or dream under the shadow of its fragrant bower-;. But what man has lo>t by his sin God's grace has restored, and it will never more be lost. The second Adam, the Lord from heaven, is the Keeper of the heavenly Paradise. His blood has quenched the flaming sword that guarded its gates ; and now they are thrown wide open for all who have faith and love to enter in. Through them a glimpse is given to us of the river of life, clear as crystal, proceeding, not like the old river of Eden from earthly springs that are apt to dry up, but from the throne of God and of the Lamb, so that it can never cease to flow. But, in order to get to the river of life now, we must go through the river of death. Every one has to pass through this dark river. The ol 1 Egyptians carried then- dead in an ark or boat across the Nile, from the east to the west banks, where the place of burial was ; and our pagan forefiathers believed that, when they died, a silent boat came, with muffled oars, to take them across the western sea to a far island under the sunset rays. These ideas, and the many expressions in our hymns and sermons about crossing a flood when we die, are probably memories of the far-off' time when the deep waters engulfed the Eden from which the human race had come, and to which they hoped to return, but from which they are now separated. Our first parents lost the river of Eden through their disobedience ; you will recover it by your obedi- ence. ' Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they niay have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.' — Hugh Macmillan, The Spring of the Bay, p. 298. GARDEN-GRACE ' And the Lord God took the man and put him into the garden of Eden, to dress it and to keep it.' — Genesis ii. 15. The first look we get of Adam, the fii'st man, is as he stands in the midst of flowers and great palm-trees — for the palm-tree is one of the very oldest. When- ever we think of him at the first, we think of him in a garden. Isn't it likely God had a meaning for us in this ? I think He had. A garden was perhaps the best place He could think of in which to place His best work. When a painter has painted a beautiful picture, he doesn't make a frame for it with four rough sticks. If the picture is the best he has painted, he puts the best frame round it he can get. And if a man has a beautiful diamond, he doesn't make it fast with a bit of old iron ; he has a beautiful gold clasp made for it, for the best always deserves to be set in the best And so, since the best being God has created was put in a garden, we may be sure it was the best place on earth to put him. 8 Ver. 15. GENESIS II Ver. 15. Yes, God loves flowers — how highly He thinks of them we can see from the fact mat He puts all good people at the last where He put Adam at the first — into a garden. For, it" you notice, the Bible ends as it began — by telling us about a garden — about Paradise, where the flowers never withei- and there are no bitter fruits or any thorns — and there the sinless are. If we love flowers, then, we love what God loves very much. A clergyman friend was speaking to a little girlie once about Eden — telling her how lovely it was, and what flowers and fruits were there. But the little lady had been brought up in London, and had seen how almost every spot that was green was made to disappear very soon, so she was somewhat indifferent to all that was said about Eden, giving this as her reason, ' I suppose it is all built over now ! ' And perhaps she was right ! People sometimes do build over their Edens. When a boy or girl loves Jesus much, all is so bright, and they are so happy — as if in Eden ! But little by little they grow interested in this, and anxious over that, and covetous of the next thing, so that before they are aware of it their Eden is all built over — the flowers, the green places, the sweet fruits all gone I — and in their places are only bricks and mortar and hard stones. Don't you bo so foolish : keep vour Eden — keep your true, warm love for Jesus, and you will have an Eden round your heart all your days. But we are told why God put Adam into the garden : it was ' to dress it and keep it '. Adam, in fact, was to learn how to make things become better and better, just as God does. Adam had to trim the flowers and prune the fruit-trees, and teach them how to grow more beautiful and bring forth more fruit. For plants are just like children — they have to be taught and trained, and Adam was to be their schoolmaster. What ignorant people we would be if somebody hadn't taken the trouble to teach us ! — teach us to read, teach us to write, teach us to cipher, teach us our trade, teach us almost everything — for if you put all the knowledge we started with on the end of a bulrush, it wouldn't bend ! And it isn't much dif- ferent with flowers: they are all wild at the start, and then they are not half so beautiful, or so great, or so fruitful as when they have been tamed and trained — been put to .school, as it were. That was to be Adam's work : he was to train the flowers. Yes, and it was just as he did so, kindly and lovingly, he was to be trained himself to be a good man, and a strong man, and a man who would iove God and whom God could love. For you can't take loving care of any living thing and try to make it better, but you will become better youi-self. I knew a widow woman once, who had an only child — a little, weak, pale, sickly fellow. She loved hira very much, and as long as she was able she kept him protected from every cold wind, and kept him in- dooi-s when the rain was falling and when the snow was about, for he was very delicate. But one day she lost all the little money she had, pnd there seemed to be nothing before her but trouble, "want, and hunger. But her boy said he would work for her and earn money to keep her — for he had a brave spirit in his weak body. So he went out and got a situation, and marched forth boldly on the cold bleak mornings, and came home often very late at night wet through and through ; and the poor mother feared her son would die because he wasn't strong enough to stand all this. But instead of dying the boy grew stronger and strongei-, and is a strong man to-day, and a prosperous man too, keeping his widow mother in comfort You see, in trying to do good for his mother's sake he got good himself — as he worked for her he got strong himself — and so he got the blessing. It is always so : we can't do anything in love — even to the taking care of flowers — Ijut we grow better ourselves. All your life, then, remember, you never can do good but you get your reward, and get it at the time. Another thing worth learning from the garden in which Adam was placed is : lovely svurrowndings can't o/ themselves make lovely hearts. Everything was very beautiful round Adam, but you know wha*^ happened : he sinned, and then he had to be put out of the garden. No, lovelv flowers or sweet fruits could not of themselves keep sin away. Jesus only can do that. If sin gets inside us, nothing that is outside can help us. I am sure if you knew all that Je-us has done for you — to save you from sin— you would love Him. Let me tell in my own way a tale which I read about the rose. There are more stories about the rose, perhaps, than about any other flower, because, most likely, it is so beautiful. It is only a story, but it has a meaning. There was a young man once — a poet — in a far- away land in the North, who loved a beautiful maiden with all his heart. One night she was going to a bull, and wanted a rose to wear in her hair. But the time for the roses had not yet come, and though her lover searched and searched everywhere, he couldn't find one. It troubled him greatly and made him sad to think he would not be able to please the maiden in what she asked him to get. And the oak-tree saw his sadness, and so did the nightingale, and they felt very sorry foi- him, for their natures M'ere simple and kind. ' You can make him a rose,' said the oak to the bird, ' if you will. There is a rose-tree that has thorns only now : if you press your bosom closely on one of these thorns it will blossom into a rose ! ' And the nightintrale was glad to think it could make the sad youth happy, and in the moonlight it perched on a twig of the rose-bush and pressed its bosom against a thorn. And as it pressed the thorn it sang so sweetly ! — for it was glad at the chance of doing good. ' Press closer, closer I ' said the oak ; and the bird pressed closer and closer still, till the thorn 9 GENESIS III entered into its bosom, but still it sang, and sang so sweetly ! ' Closer, closer yet ! ' whispered the oak ; and the thorn went deeper and deeper into the bosom, and the song grew fainter and fainter, as the bird warmed the cold thorn with its own heart's blood. ' Closer, yet closer ! ' moaned the oak ; and the bird pressed down and down, till its eyes grew dim, and its song was hushed, and the bird fell dead ! Yes, but the thorn was a thorn no longer : it was a beautiful rose — the loveliest rose that ever was seen, and the young poet came along that way and saw it, and was glad — foi- he took it to the maiden he loved, expecting she would be glad too. But she had changed her mind : she thought now that a jewel would look better in her hair, so she tossed the rose away. Ah ! she didn't know how much love had gone to the making of that rose ! And people don't think or know how much love Jesus puts into the making of every soul that is saved from sin. But you know what He did : He died on the cross in great, great pam that the white flower of holiness might be ours. Wasn't it good of Him ? —wasn't it loving? — won't it be cruel, cruel and un- kind of us, if we despise the beautiful flower He made at the cost of His life ? Then love the Lord, for He loves you — loves you better than He loves Himself If you love Him, He will keep sin away from your heart, and by and by you shall walk with Him in Paradise — the Lord's own garden. Aim for this — oh, aim for this ! — and as you do it never forget that there's no love like that love which is willing to warm even a thorn into a flower. You won't understand all that that means now. No matter ! keep it in mind : one day you'll know. — J. Reid HowATr, The Children's Angel, p. 13L Few spots on earth can be more interesting to men than the homes of their forefathers. Every year thousands cross the seas to visit them. Some people almost worship their ancestral homes. Then multi- tudes travel far to see the birthplace of some famous man, and gladly pay money for a relic of it ; and those who cannot visit such places, prize pictures and descriptions of them. I wish you to visit with me the most ancient and wonderful birthplace and family-seat in the world. You know its name — Eden. We cannot call it the birthplace of our first parents ; for they had no birthplace, as they were never born, but came fresh from God's creating hand. But it is the birthplace of all mankind. Will you take a half-hour's walk with me in the garden of Eden ? We shall examine the fruits and flowers in that fair garden, and the terrible blight that withered them all. The third chapter of Genesis describes the most beautiful place, the most perfect pair, and the saddest home-leaving in the world. The woeful story has three parts : — I. Before the Fall. H. The Fall itself HL After the Fall. I. Before the Fall. — To the child's question, 'Who made you?' the child answers, 'God'. 'I will praise Thee,' says David ; ' for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.' Man was made by God, made like God, and made for God. A gentleman once sowed flower-seeds in his garden, so that when they sprung up, they formed the name of liis son in large letters. The little boy found them out him- self; was overjoyed that his own name, William Beattie, was flourishing on the flower-bed, and fetched his father to see the wonder. ' Oh, don't you think, Willie, that the wind carried the seeds there ! Might they not grow up in that way by chance, or of them- selves ? ' Willie declared that that could not be; somebody must have sowed them on purpose. His father then showed Willie that his own body and the world must have been jilauned by some one ; and so led his thoughts up to the great Creator. Yes, when all other things had been made, ' God said, let us make man in our image, and after our likeness '. God waited till He had fitly framed and furnished the world for its tenant and lord ; and then made man as His masterpiece, and rested, having put all things at man's service. And notice, that man was made like God, not in His body, for God has no body, but in his soul. God was the Father of Adam's spirit, and so Adam was at first God-like, ' a little god '. Ad- mire Adam as he came without a flaw from the hand of God. His cup of happiness was full to the brim. He was holy, for without holiness there could be no happiness for him or his children. He had peace with God, and peace with himself He had Eve as his companion ; for she was made for him, as both were made for God. Then everything around added to the happiness within. Eden was a charming dis- trict in which there was a glorious gai-den called Paradise, which means a royal park or pleasure-ground, a palace of all delights. Its four rivers rolled over golden sands, amid bending fruit-trees, and sweet- smelling flowers. Plenty of work added to their happiness, for they had to keep and dress the garden. A paradise without work would be a paradise of fools. The trail of a serpent, called ennui or weariness, would spoil all its fruits and flowers. Even Adam and Eve before the Fall found no enjoyment without employment. And, to crown all, they lived in the sunshine of their heavenly Father's smile. Thus man's first home was all heaven. Though we have been turned out of Eden into the wilderness, we should remember what we once were. Though fallen, you are only fallen, thank God. Though fallen so far, you have not fallen beyond the reach of God's grace. You have not fallen like the angels for whom there is no raising up. Your fallen nature was not your first nature ; it is not your true nature ; and it need not be your last. Though sin is deep in your soul now, there was no sin in man to begin with, and the Second Adam can undo the mis- 10 GENESIS III chief the fii'st Adam has done. He saves His people from their sins, blessed be His holy name. Your soul is like a costly but broken vessel, on which you can still trace the owner's name, and some marks of grandeur. The Divine image in the soul has been burnt, but not burnt out. You were made for nothing less than God ; and therefore he only is a real man who is godly ; for when man was at his very best, he was like God. And God's mark is on you still ; so that, if you grow godless, that mark will prove you to be an unnatural monster. A little English girl, who had a lai-ge fortune, was once stolen by Indian gipsies ; and it was several years before she was re- stored to her parents. What would you have said if that girl had forgotten her father and mother, and become quite delighted to live among these robbers ? But she could never forget that she was born for a far better position than she then had. She always hoped and prayed that she might soon be restored to her true home, and her heritage. And so you in this wilderness should never forget your first home, and your heavenly birth-right ; and you should be most thankful that the Good Shepherd has come to bring you back to God, and make you heirs of heaven. But we must hun-y over the brief history of Adam unfallen. Alas ! it was very brief, for he soon marred what God had made so very good. This he did by — II. The Fall. — This is the deepest and darkest subject in the world. Many a child, hearing the story of Adam and Eve, has said something like this : ' But, mother, why did God not keep the serpent out of the garden ? Isn't God stronger than anyone, and couldn't He have kept the serpent out if He had liked ? ' A little child can ask that question, but the wisest man cannot fully answer it. Yet some things help us to an answer. Were a father to shut up his buv in a room for life, and not allow him to see any play-fellows, that boy would be kept from many sins into which other boys fall ; but then he could never be a man. By and by he would not do anything wrong, because he should become unable to do anything at all. If he is ever to be a man, he must have scope and liberty with all its risks. Thus God left the angels and Adam free. Again, it may seem hard that so small a sin should bring so great a curse. But was it a small sin ? The sin of the hand was small — stealing an apple ; but the sin of the heart was great ; for they rebelled against God, broke His law, and scorned Him. The stealing of a shilling makes a man a thief quite as much as the stealing of one thousand pounds. Our sins might be small, if there were a small God to sin against. While some sins are greater than others, every sin is great, because it dishonours the King eternal, im- mortal, and invisible ; and often sins that seem small to men are great in the eye of God. Once more, you may think that they were more sinned against than sinning, as they were beguiled into sin by the cunning tempter. Eve laid the blame upon the ser- pent, and Adam laid the blame upon Eve and God. ' The woman whom Thou gavest to be with me,' he said shamefully, 'she gave me of the tree, and I did eat.' It makes one smile to think how children every day try to excuse themselves for wrongdoing by blaming others, just as their first parents did. Still, though tempted to it, it was their own act ; and they were punished for it. If an older and cleverer boy tempts you into sin, you know perfectly that you are guilty of that sin. The temptation of the serpent was not Adam's sin, but his yielding to it was. Now, what was the sin of Adam and Eve ? It was just this — that they did not believe and obey God's plain word ; they grew proud and discontented ; they longed for what God had forbidden ; thev gratified their appetites when they should not. When you get to the bottom and beginning of every sin, you find that it is the very same as the first sin. Ah ! you are tempted every day by the same cruel tempter. Take care, then, for his cunning overcame the angels in heaven, and Adam and Eve in Paradise. Evil is his good, and our ruin his delight. Your soul is his coveted pi'ize. A man was once carrying a splendid diamond to the king, when he was seized by robbers who knew the secret. He offered them his purse, his rings, his horse, his clothes, but they would not be put off' with these things. ' No, we must have the diamond,' they cried. So the Devil — that great Robber — is determined to have your soul. Oh, guard it, for it is the most precious thing you have ! If it is saved, all is saved ; if it be lost, all is lost. One of the great sights at the Exhibition in London in 1851 was the Koh-i-noor diamond. It was kept in- side a glass case, in a small tent, and an armed .soldier guarded it. It was preserved so carefully, because it was worth two millions of money. But your soul — who can give a name to its value ? It is worth more than all the gold in the world. By faith and prayer commit it unto God's safe keeping; and then it will be 'hid with Christ in God,' like a jewel in a double case, which no thief can break open. None shall be able to pluck it out of the Father's hands. We shall now see what took place — III. After the Fall.— The effects of the Fall are told in one word — Ruin. What pen, what tongue, can describe their misery and shame ! Before the Fall, Adam and Eve walked with God, as a man walks with his bosom friend, in holy, happy fellow- ship ; but as soon as they had fallen, they became full of guilt, guile, and fear. Before God had spoken a word, they felt condemned ; and were fain to hide from Him in the darkest lurking-place within reach. As Luther says, conscience pictured the wrath of God like a giant standing over them with a club ready to smite them. And the same fear of God is in all Adam's children, till grace take it away. God drove out the man, and placed at the east of the garden cherubim and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep or guard the way of the tree of life. That flaming sword, what was it ? I once saw a great fire that reddened the whole sky. At length 11 GENESIS III all the flames united in one, and that one flame seemed to reach to heaven. As it leaped and darted right and left, it made me think of a gigantic sword brandished by an unseen hand. The brave firemen dared not go near it, for it turned every way as if to guard all the approaches to the building. And so between our parents and Paradise there was a leaping flame wliich, as a sign of God's anger, must have been very feartul to the poor outcasts. As they looked to what was so lately their happy homo, they saw — The ffate With dreadful faces throng'd, and tiery arms. But the curse did not stop there ; it has lighted upon all their children. The world and the Bible show us that sin brings soii'ow. You are a proof of it yourself — everybody is ; for you never had a sorrow which did not in some way spring from sin. All earth's sicknesses and sufferings and deaths all come from sin, and from the firet sin of Adam. Thus misery and man are twins even from the birth. If you find a man who was born before the Fall, you may then find a man who has nothing to do with sin. And the curse of the Fall has reached the beasts, and the very soil of the earth, as rivers, swollen by floods, ovei'flow their banks, and soak the neighbour- ing plains. Hence nearly everything is wrong, and out of joint. ' For we know that the whole creation gi'oaneth and travaileth in pain together until now ' This sorrowful world is full of pitiful sounds. As poets say, the ocean moans, the woods sigh, the winds wail, and the lakes sob. Earth also has been wounded, and its sad voices seem to join the grief of man. The earth, at first so clean and fair, became horrid with thorns and thistles, every one of which was a fruit of the Fall. Then man has to eat his bread in the sweat of his face ; as if the earth, once so generous, were unwilling to vield her fruits to man, now that he is the foe of God. When the cattle-plague came to our country, it not onlv smote the cattle, so that they died, but the spreading infection poisoned the very wood and stones, and in some eases the byres were levelled with the ground, and burnt with fire. And thus the leprosy of sin smote even the ground and its fruits with a curse. After that, will you not bear sin an eternal grudge ? Will you not believe that sin, any sin, every sin, is the vilest thing in the universe, and that it is eternally to be hated, and eternally to be shunned ? Will you not love the grace that saves the soul from sin? When Adam and Eve were driven out of Paradise — oh, what a home-leaving ! what a shock to the guilty pair! — they were not left without hope, for they cai-iied with them the signs and the sounds of mercy : the signs of mercy in the coats of skin with which God clothed them, and the sounds of mercy in these sweet words, ' I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed : it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel ' (Gen. iii. 15). This is the mustard-.seed from which the whole gospel-tree has sprung. That one verse tells Adam of a Saviour — -a human Saviour — of the woman's seed ; a suffering Saviour — ' thou shalt bruise his heel ' ; and a conqueiing Saviour — ■' it shall bruise thy head '. As their eyes or thoughts turned to Paradise, what feai-s would affright their souls ! How keenly they would feel their sin and folly ! But they would keep that saying in the fifteenth verse, and ponder it in their hearts ; and they would thank God that, though they had lost Eden, they had not lost hope. As the earth turns upon two poles, so the Bible turns upon the two great facts in this chapter — the fact of sin, and the fact of salvation. Sin was brought into the world by the first Adam, and salv.ation by the Second Adam. I knew a girl of eleven or twelve years of age who, I think, knew a great deal about these two facts. She maintained that she had put her trust in Christ, and seemed astonished that I could doubt it ; and, indeed, I had no reason to doubt it. In answer to my question, she said : 'The Spirit was striving with me long, and, after a while, I ju.st cam' to believe what the Bible says about sin; an' after that, I just cam' to believe what the Bible says about the Saviour'. I was et]uallv pleased with the words and the spirit of her reply. God help you, my reader, just to believe what the Bible says about sin and the Saviour ; and then, as the garden in Revelation is more glorious even than the garden in Genesis, you will one day dwell in a better home than Adam lost, into which no serpent shall ever enter, and out of which no inhabitant shall ever be driven. Praise to His rich, mysterious love ! E'en by our fall we rise. And ^ain for earthly Eden lost, A heav'uly Paradise. — James Wills, Bible Echoes, p. 19. EXCUSES Genesis in. First, I should like to remind the children of the simple story with which the Bible begins the history of our race. How Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden were forbidden to touch the Tree of Knowledge ; how, after they had eaten of that tree's fruit, the first thing they did was to hide themselves. How foolish it is to think one can hide from God ! The Lord called to Adam and said, ' Adam ! where art thou ?' And the culprit crept out from his hiding-place and said, 'O Lord! I was afraid and hid niy.self. And God said, ' Hast thou eaten of the tree ? ' And Adam said, ' Eve gave me the fruit ; it was not my fault '. And when the Lord looked at Eve, she, too, had her excuse ready, and said, ' O Lord ! the serpent, the wicked serpent, beguiled me and I did eat'. And here is another Scripture story. Moses and Joshua were coming down from the mountain where they had been in the very presence-chamber of God ; and they heard a great noise in the camp and in the midst they saw an idol set up, a golden calf Round it the people "ere dancing and shouting in the same way as did the degraded heathen. And like a whirl- 12 GENESIS III Ver. 9. wind Moses entered the camp and hurled the miser- able calf into the Hre and demanded an explanation from his brother Aaron, whom he had left in charge of the people. How was it they were worshipping this idol ? And Aaron mumbled out this most imbecile excuse : ' The people came and said that you had gone and left them. They said, " We don't know wh;it has become of this Moses " (so disrespect- fully did they speak of you), " make us a god to go before us ". Something had to be done ; so I told them to bring to me all their golden instruments and ornaments. I put them into a furnace, and what do you think ? It was as great a surprise to me as to you — tloere came out this calf; I did not do it ; it just did itself.' I think I have heard in .some of our homes very much the same thing. ' Please, mother, the plate broke itself. I am sure I didn't do it.' As one grows, even without a teacher, it is quite easy to become very clever at making excuses. If you are asked, when father comes home from the city at night, to go and fetch his slippers, it is wonderful what a pain comes in the foot, or an ache in the leg ; and ' Mother, I'm sure I shall never find it,' or else, ' the cupboard is so dark'. When you have read a little way further into Greek history you wili meet the story of a Greek boy who was liding on his donkey aTid saw a tree with cool, luscious figs hanging over the path. He stood up on his saddle and clutched at a cluster. But the donkey moved on and left him hanging there like Absalom. And when the farmer came up and asked him what he was doing up there, he said, ' Please, Sir, I've fallen off my donkey '. That is just like some of our excuses. Depend upon it, however good the excuse, one never manages to persuade oneself and very rarely succeeds in per- suading anyone else. Oftentimes excusin;^ of a fault Doth make the fault wovse by the excuse ; As patches set upon a little breach Discredit more in hiding of the fault. Than did the fault before it was so patched. Qui s'excuse s' accuse : that is, if you attempt to excuse yourself you generally confess your fault. The great Duke of Wellington never said a wiser thing than that the boy or man who is good at making excuses is seldom good for anything else. It was at the school examination in arithmetic, and Tom felt particularly dull at figures that morn- ing. Clever Jack sat alongside him, and Tom said, ' Jack, I can't do the thing '. They were great friends, so Jack said, ' Just look over mine '. And that was what he did : he copied Jack's sums. The end of the story is this : Tom and Jack divided the prize ; they were tar above everybody else. When they were called up to receive the arithmetic prize, Tom felt miserable, and he said, ' Please, Sir, I don't deserve this prize. Please, Sir, I copied '. And his face was red, and his eyes were filled with tears. But by bravely owning up to his fault he learnt a better lesson than all the sums in the world could have taught him. When you have done wix)ng, own up. It is best to be brave enough never to do wrong, but if you have done wrong and are going to be punished for it, don't be a coward the second time. Bear it like a man ; the smart soon disappears. But the shame of having lied lasts on. — Bernard J. Snell, The All-Enfolding Love, p. 125. THE IMPORTANT QUESTION ' And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Wtiere art thou? ' — Genesis hi. 9. ' Where art thou ? ' Why does God ask this ? Doth not God know where we are ? Why do we tell Him, when we pray, what we want ? It is not that God may know. God sometimes asks a very, very solemn question. This is a solemn question. ' Where art thou ? ' If you look in the foui'th chapter and ninth verse of Genesis, you will find another solemn question. ' And the Lord said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? ' In the sixteenth chapter we have another solemn question, at the eighth verse : ' And He said, Hagar, Sarai's maid, whence earnest thou? and whithei wilt thou go ? ' Now I am going to ask you a question, or, rather, God is going to ask you a question, ' Where art thou ? ' I know where you are. I mean something very different from that. I know we are all here, we are all in this world that God made, we are all going across it ; and we are going on to eternity — very fast. We are going over God's world. Some pass ovei much sooner than others ; we are ail going across. Where ? Unto eternity. I do not know whether you have ever heard about a young man going to College, at the time that a very good and great man was one of the tutors. He was a Roman Catholic, still what he said on the subject was very good. The youth said, ' I am glad to come to the University. I am going to read a great deal, and study the law, and become very clever.' The tutor said to him, ' Well, my boy, when you have studied very hard, what then ? ' ' Oh then. Sir, I shall take a degree.' The tutor said, 'What then?' ' Then I shall be a lawyer ; and I shall make fine speeches ; decide cases ; be a learned man.' ' What then?' 'Then I shall be made a judge — become a great man.' ' What then ? ' ' Then I shall live to a very happy and comfortable old age.' ' What then ? ' ' Die.' ' And what then ? ' And the boy knew not what to answer. He never thought of that ; and the history tells us that the boy then determined that he would be a clergyman. And he did become a clergy- man, and a very good one. We are all passing over this little sea of life, we are quickly going on to eternity — and what then ? Now I wish to ask everybody in this church, ' Where art thou ? ' And I am going to ask you five questions. And the first I shall ask is this — Are you one of God's children ? or are you not ? I mean, ai-e you in God's family ? 13 Ver. 9. GENESIS III Ver. 9. Now you have all been brought to God in your baptism. What does the Catechism say ? ' What is your name ? Who gave you this name ? My God- fathers and Godmothers in my Baptism ; wherein I was made a member of Christ, the child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven.' Now mark, you are put into God's family, when you are baptised, upon certain conditions — that you will do certain things ; and it depends upon you how you live ; be- cause if you do not love God, then you cannot be God's child. I. Now what I want to know is, what are you at this moment? Are you really and truly, in your heart and feeling, one of God's own little children ? Where are vou ? In God's family, or out of it ? There is a beautiful verse in the Bible which speaks of God's family — Ephesians in. 15 — it is the only place in the New Testament where the word ' family ' occurs. Before we read it, I must just tell you that it is speaking of those who have faith and love in Christ: and it says, 'Of whom,' that is, of Christ, 'the whole family in heaven and earth is named'. Do you not see that all depends upon whether you love Jesus Christ ? If you really love Jesus Christ then you are in God's ' family ' ; for all God's ' family ' are ' named ' of Christ. ' Of whom,' that is, of Christ, 'the whole family in heaven and earth is named.' Christians are all ' named of Christ,' which is having Christ in your hearts. Look in the First Epistle of St. John, third chapter : the two first verses are about Gird's 'family'. Let us all read them together. They are very beautiful. 'Behold what manner of love the Father hath be- stowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God ! therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew Him not. Beloved, now are we the sons of God ; and it doth not yet appear what we shall be : but we know that when He shall appear, we shall be like Him ; for we shall see him as He is.' Now to each of you, I say, ' Where art thou ? ' Art thou in God's family ? Is Jesus Christ thy Brother ? Is God in heaven thy Father ? Dost thou look up to the great God of heaven, in all His power, as such ? What a sweet and happy thing if we are all able to look up to that great Being, and say, ' That is my own deai- Father I He loves me, and I love Him.' Once a Roman Emperor was marching through the streets of Rome, which were crowded with spectatoi-s, and a little boy ran through the crowd : a soldier tried to stop him, and, addressing him, said, ' Why, he is your emperor '. ' Yes,' said the little boy, ' he is your king, but he is my father, and I am going to him.' He was the emperor's own child. Happy those who can say, ' He is your King, but He is my Father'. I should like to tell you a story about a Geiman, of whom I read, who was able to say that he was one of God's 'family'. He was a very poor man, his name was Hans ; he was a cobbler, and he used to sit in a little stall mending shoes all day, and over his head was a cage, with starlings in it. He was very fond of them, and they used to sing, and sometimes talk a little. One day, as he was busily mending shoes, and sing- ing, and the starlings were singing too, a dark young man came past — he had a Roman aquiline nose, and very dark eyes ; which showed that he was a Jew. Seeing Hans so cheerful over his work, the young man said, ' You seem very merry '. He replied, ' And why should I not be ? My starlings are merry, and I am merry too ; and why should I not be ? ' The young man answered, ' Why should you not be ? why I should have thought your poverty would have pre- vented you being merry ; you se^m a poor man.' ' How do you know ? ' 'I never heard of your having riches ; I never heard of your having ships on the sea, or money in the bank ; perhaps you have been able to make money off your starlings.' ' No, I have a wife and seven children, and I support them all, and yet I am not poor ; no,' said he, ' I am the King's son.' The Jew looked upon him and said, ' Ah, poor man, that is the reason you are so merry.' He thought he wa.s mad, and he went away. A week passed by, and the young man was walking in the suburbs of the town, and he again saw Hans busy over his shoes. ' Good even', your royal high- ness,' said he, thinking to please him. ' I know what you think,' said Hans. ' You think me mad ; but now sit down, and I will tell you about it. I was singing about my kingdom. If you like, I will sing it to you.' Then he sang a very fine German hymn (some of our finest hymns come from Germany) about the kingdom. I3ut the Jew, of course, did not understand it. And Hans said, ' I will tell you who the King is — how I came to be His son — and what I am.' And he told him how we are God's children, and about Jesus Christ dying for us to make us His children. And the young man said to him, ' Where did you find out all this ? ' ' Out of this book,' he said, ' and if you will read it, I will give it to 3'ou. I think you are a Jew ; if you study the prophets, and compare the New Testament with their writings, you will see how they all bear testimony to Jesus Christ the Son of God, who died for guilty sinners like you and I are.' And do you know, that young man became a Christian, and a missionary to his countrymen in Silesia. That was the way he first became a Christian — because old Hans and his starlings sang so merrily. ' Where art thou ? ' Art thou of the family of God ? II. I will ask you another question. Supposing you are one of God's children — I trust you are — I think you are — now. ' Where art thou ? ' near to thy Father, or far from Him ? because some children are nearer to their fathers than other's. ' Where art thou ? ' near or far off ? You know Mary and Martha were sisters, and they were both Christians, but one was much nearer to Christ than the other. Mary sat at Jesus' feet. Martha was ' troubled about many things'. In Luke x. 41, 42, we read, ' And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou 14 Ver. 9. GENESIS III Ver. 9. art careful and troubled about many things ; but one thing is needful, and Mary has chosen that good part, which sliall not be taken away from her.' She was near.er than her sister. ' Where art thou ? ' art thou near — close to Him ? I will tell you why some boys and girls are not near to God — why they don't think much about God — ■ why they don't pray to Him. This is it, they know that God knows them ; and they know that God knows their secret sins. They would go to anybody else, because they know that none beside can fully know them. A boy or girl who is good would like to go to God because he knows the heart. It is your sins, and because you know God knows your sins, that you don't like to go to Him. If you could say your sins were all forgiven, then you would like to go to God and pray ; vou could not pray enough — morn- ing, evening, and all day long, you would like to pray. Do we delight to be with Jesus ? Let us go and tell Him everything. Then we shall be near God. I will tell you about a very good man. I daresay many in this church have heard of John Fletcher. He was an exceedingly holy man. His life is pub- lished. He was a very wonderful man. Some day or other we will read the life of Mr. Fletcher. When he was a bov he lived in Switzei'land, near the beauti- ful mountains. He used to like to go out, when he was only seven years old, by himself, in the beautiful valleys and mountains, and think about God. He used to think that the mountains were like those where Elijah was. He had several brothers and sisters, and one day he was very cross, and cjuarrelled with them, and he was quite to blame ; for he gave way to bad temper, and he knew it but would not own it. When he went to bed he was told how very wi-ong it was. John didn't say anything. When in bed, of couree he could not sleep, he laid his head upon the pillow ; anybody who has done wrong cannot sleep, so he was not hapjDy ; and John did a very wise thing. He jumped out of bed — for very wisely he didn't say his prayers in bed — and he knelt down and told God he was very unhappy, and he felt he had done wrong in being cross to his brothers and sisters ; and he asked God to forgive him. And Fletcher says, after he was a man, ' Oh, that was a happy night ! and that was the firet time I ever tasted sweet peace'. He was near to God. III. Now I shall ask you a third question. I have asked you if you are in God's family? If you are near to God ? If you tell Him everything ? Now, are you in the sunshine, or in the shade ? Is it light or dark ? Are you happy or unhappy ? Which are you, my dear children ? Are you happy in your own minds, happy with God, happy with your own re- ligious feelings ? Are you in the sun or are you in the shade ? You know there must be the sunshine and the shade. Some must be happy and some unhappy. Look at John viil 12 (I am going to tell you how you may be in the sunshine), it reads, ' He that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life '. See that. Well now, observe, if you follow Christ, that is, if you think of Christ, try to be like Christ; that is following Him, then you will be always in the sunshine ; you will be on the sunny side of everything ; because Christ is the sun you know, He is light. Then if you are near Christ, you are in the sunshine, and everything you look at is bright. What a difference there is between those who walk on the sunny side of the hedge, and those who walk on the shady side. If you are not light and happy, it is because you are not near enough to Christ. If you come near to Christ, you will be close to the light ; you will feel like a little boy of whom I have read, who was very happy. I don't know whether you like little girls' or boys' stories best. I like to tell you true stories. I don't know whether I ever told you about little Peter, it is a true story ; he was a French boy, and when he was very young indeed, his father died. I think he was a very good man, for before he died, he called little Peter to him and said, ' When I am gone, you will be left a very poor boy ; but recollect that everything that happens to you, will always be from above — ^always think, whether it be good or bad, that it comes from above '. Little Peter, after that, made up his mind to say of every- thing that happened to him, ' It comes from above '. If anybody gave him a franc or a sou, he said, ' It comes from above '. Now I will tell you what happened. One day he was going along the streets of Paris, and it was very windy ; a plank blew off from some buildings, and knocked him down. Peter said, ' It comes from above ' ; and some persons coming by said, ' Yes, of com'se it does '. However, Peter went on, and had only gone a few steps, when a whole roof before him blew off, fell down, and killed three men. So it was through his own falling first that he had escaped being killed. Some time after that Peter was sent by a gentle- man to carry a letter in a great hurry, and Peter, in trying to jump over a ditch, fell in, and lost the letter ; he said, ' It comes from above '. He went home to the gentleman, and told him he had lost the letter in the ditch, and he said, ' It comes from above '. And so it did. The gentleman became angry and dismissed him. A few days afterwards the gentle- man sent for him, and said, ' Here are three louis d'or (guineas) for you, because you tumbled in the ditch ; if that letter had been delivered, it would have done me a great deal of harm ; and I am so glad that I give you this money '. Peter said, ' It comes from above '. Years passed by, and Peter grew, and he not only grew a good man, but a great and rich man ; and he lived in England as a great manufacturer in Birming- ham ; but let what would come, he always said, ' It comes from above '. He was always in the sunshine. IV. Now I am going to ask you my fourth question. This is a very important one. I have asked you, Are you in God's family ? Are you near to God ? 15 Ver. 9. GENESIS III Vv. 12, 18. Are you happy? Are you in the sunshine? And now I ask you — Are you in the path of duty? are you where you ought to he ? Whether you are liv- ing at home, or at school, are you living in the path of duty ? There was a man once out of the path of duty, and God spoke to him. Look at 1 Kings xix. 9. God says, ' What doest thou here, Elijah ? ' He had no business to go into the wilderness. He ought to have had faith in God. Therefore God thus spoke to him. ' What doest thou here ? ' Thou art out of the path of duty. Don't you think God could say this to some of us individually — ' What doest thou hei'e? Thou art out of the path of duty.' It is a nan'ow path ; sometimes a steep path. Some persons have a path with a great many enemies ; some have a path where they are laughed at ; and some have a peaceful path — a heavenly path. For instance, Are you happy ? Are you trying to get on ? Are you trying to please your master or mistress? Are you trying to please God ? Are you in the path of duty ? Have you some sin to conquer, or have you conquered it ? Perhaps you have a bad temper ; perhaps you are idle ; perhaps you grieve at every little trouble. Are you a conqueror ? Are you in the path of duty? Are you, by God's grace, endeavouring to conquer your temper every day ? Perhaps you are a great boy or girl — aie you trying to do good ? Is your example good ? Is your con- versation good ? Do you ever lead a younger boy or girl to do wrong ? Which way is your face ? heaven- ward— towards heaven ? ' Where art thou ? ' There was a boy named Frank. One AVednesday, being a half-holiday, he went out with some com- panions ; and when they had gone a long way, they became very tired, and went to a public-house, and asked Frank to accompany them. He said, ' I shall not go in '. The other boys laughed at him, and told him not to be so foolish, and one called him a coward. 'Come in,' they said. 'No, I cannot, I must obey my orders,' he replied. ' What ! ' said they, ' have you orders ? Who gave you orders ? Did your mother ? Did your master ? ' ' No, I have my orders, and I shall obey them.' They said, ' What are your orders? — ordere — nonsense, — orders!' 'Well,' said Frank, ' I will show you.' And he pulled a book out from his pocket, and opened it (it was the Bible) at Proverbs iv. 14, 15. 'There,' said he, 'is the order of the All in all, the Lord of lords, and the King of kings.' Let us read these two veises, my dear children. ' Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away.' Frank said, ' God is All and in all ; He commands me, and I obey my orders '. That was a boy in the path of duty. Are you there — in the |)ath of duty ? V. Now I come to my last question. I will suppose that you are in God's family— that you are near God — that you are in the sunshine — that vou aie in the path of duty — now, how have you pr()gres^ed ? Con- sider your age — ^you are not a very little child. How far are you advanced ? You have grown a great deal, you know, this last year or two ; and you will grow (if you live) a great deal more. Have you made progress? Do you think you are in the road to heaven ? ' Where art thou ? ' One step down ? Half-way towards heaven ? ' Where art thou ? ' A good man was once in a town in Switzerland, and saw a man walking in the street that he thought he knew, and he went up to him, put his hand on his shoulder, and said, ' My friend, what is the state of your soul ? ' The man turned round, — he saw he was mistaken, and he said, ' I beg your pardon, I thought I knew you '. He did not hear of him again for a long time. One day the stranger met him, and said, ' Friend, I am so happy. Do you recollect put- ting your hand upon my shoulder, and asking me the state of my soul ? ' He replied, ' Yes ! ' ' Oh/ said he, ' I have some reason to thank you for that question.' It had made him think on what he had never thought of before. What is the state of your souls? How far have you gone ? Sometimes those who have made the least progress think they have gone the farthest. I have read of a gourd, which grew at the foot of a palm-tree (it is a German table) ; the gourd gi'ew (juickly up by the side of the tree, and soon became quite as tall — and the gourd said to the p.dm-tree, ' How old are you ? ' 'A hundred years,' replied the palm-tree. ' A hundred years ! ' said the gourd, ' why, I have grown as tall as you in less than a hundred days ! ' ' Yes,' said the palm-tree, ' every year, for a hundred years, a gourd has done the same — and pei'ished as quickly.' The surest way to know that we get on is to be very humble — this is always the best way. You know when the wheat is ripe, it hangs down ; the full ears hang the lowest. — James Vaughan. A TALK WITH CHILDREN— ON MAKING EXCUSES Read Genesis hi. 12, 13. ExcusKs are very old, almost as old as sin, for man no sooner sinned than he began to excuse himself Sin and excuses have ever since gone hand in hand. There is a great deal of Adam in little boys, and a good deal of Eve in little girls. 1. Look at Adam's excuse. How very ungallant it was of him to speak of Eve in this way I Yet I have known little boys quite as ungallant, when they have tried to put all their own blame on their little sisteiu How Adam must have despised hi msf If after this miserable pretence ; and how little boys must often have looked with contempt upon themselves for having meanly tried to make scapegoats of those weaker than themselves ! It were far better had they never made an excuse, for a false excuse more than doubles the sin, and is far more aggravating than the first wrong. 2. Eve's excuse is not a whit better. It is true that she was not mean enouo;h to turn the blame back 16 Ver. 13. GENESIS IV Ver. 13. on her husband. She felt she was to be blamed more thnn Adam. But she put all the fault upon the ser- pent. How humiliating was her pretext 1 There she stood, made after the likeness of God, and yet she confessed that she had listened to the serpent rather than obeyed her God ! I have heard little girls, too, give very humiliating excuses, such as ' I have a quick temper'; 'I can't help it, and there's an end of it.' No. that is not an end of it. Notice that the excuses of both Adam and Eve wei-e largely untrue. You would think that they had no will of their own ; and yet if Eve had ques- tioned -Adam's right to make his own choice, and the serpent had suggested that Eve had no self-control, both would have indignantly resented the insult. We read in Luke xiv. 18, ' They all with one consent began to make excuse '. 'Began!' There is here a quiet suggestion that they were a long time before they finished. Now, batl as excuses are, they show that people are ashamed of doing wrong, and there is hope of every- one who blushes at the thought of wrongdoing. The Tempter was not ashamed, hence there was no hope concerning him. But if we are ashamed, how much better it is to confess our faults. ' If we con- fess our sins. He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.' Each of vou can pray, ' Lord, be mercitul to me a sinner ' ; and if you thus pray earnestly, the Lord will forgive, will be your Lord and your Guide even unto death, and your everlasting portion. — David Davxes. THE ANGRY LOOK, THE ANGRY WORD, AND THE ANGRY BLOW * And Cain said unto the Lord, My punishment is greater than I can bear.' — Genesis iv. 13. The Two Offerings. — -We can just imagine Cain and Abel taking their offerings to God. 'Lhey have their altars erected, and the wood has been laid upon them. Everything is ready. Cain commences to place his offering on the altar. What a quantity of fruit he has brought, and of every kind. Just think what a lovely sight it is. All that rich fruit piled up on the altar, ami possibly adorned with flowers. On the other hand, look at Abel's. A poor innocent lamb is standing at his side. He ties its legs with bands, and lays it on the altar upon the wood. He lifts the knife, and kills it, and the blood runs down upon that altar. How cruel it seems I Cain's offering is much more plea.sing to the eye, and seems much more in accordance with gentleness and love. That beauti- ful fruit is pleasing to look upon. Not so that slain lamb, with its blood streaming down over the wood. But there was a great reason for this. Abel's offering was a sin-ottering, and sin is not beautiful to look upon, and therefore the offering for sin caimot be pleasing to the eye. It has been often asked, ' Why did Abel offer a lamb to God ? How did he know God would be pleased with such an offering ? ' This ques- tion has troubled others besides children. I do not think Cain and Abel were very different to little boys of to-day. When father is doing anything, we want to know all about it, don't we? What little 'Paul Prys ' boys are, ' poking their noses ' into everything, asking thousands of questions about this and that. Little girls, too, are a little inquisitive sometimes, are they not ? Of course all children are. That is the way we find out about things, isn't it ? We should not know very much if we did not ask questions. Do you think we should ? And grown-up people think we are dreadful plagues sometimes, don't they ? Well, I think we must acknowledge that we are, when we will not take no for an answer, and will ask ques- tions about things which do not concern us, and pry into other people's business. And then we ask such strange questicms sometimes. Well, if Adam or Eve had not told their sons all about the offering of the lamb, I think when Cain and Abel first saw their father take a lamb to a large heap of stones he had built up, and having placed it on the stones, look up to heaven and pray, and then kill it, and burn it, they would, when all was over, have been sure to say, ' Father, why did you do all that ? Why did you kill that dear little lamb ? Had it done anything wrong ? ' Then their father would have to say, ' No, it had not '. ' Well, why did you do it then, father ? ' And so Adam would have had to tell them how that God made them, and placed them in a beautiful garden, and gave them so much, and they had been so happy. Only God had told them not to do one thing^ — not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and that if they did they should die. 'Then poor Adam would have had to tell them how Satan came and tempted him and Eve, and that they believed Satan and not God, and ate of the fruit. ' And didn't you die ? ' they would ask. ' No, my boys ; God was very kind to us, although we had been so wicked. He indeed sent an angel, and drove us out of that beautiful garden, and we shall die some day. But God has told us to bring a lamb, and offer it up to Him, and that He will accept the ottering of the life of the lamb for ours ; and so when I take the lamb and kill it, I ask God to pardon all my sins, and accept that lamb in my stead.' So no doubt Adam told his sons all about his sin. Wasn't Adam silly to di.sobey God, and do what he was told not to ? Do we not do what we are told not to sometimes, although God has said, ' Children, obey your parents'? See what an awful sin it must be, or else God would not have punished Adam and Eve so severely for it. Cain and Abel therefore knew in this way, or in some other, that when they had sinned they must bring a lamb, and offer it up to God. The kind shepherd that Abel no doubt was, would never have taken his best little lamb and killed it if he had not known that God had ordered it. For some reason or other Cain would not bring a lamb ; we are not told why. He may have been very proud, or he might have thought, ' I am not veiT wicked, not so wicked as Abel. It is all very well 17 2 Ver. 13. GENESIS IV Ver. 13. for Abel to take a lamb; I am not very bad.' So we can sometimes see sin in our brothers and sisters, can't we? When you have been quarrelling, do you not say, ' Oh, it wasn't my fault ; it was brother's ' ? Cain brou'jht what God had not asked for, and God would not receive it. His offering was a very beauti- ful one, but it was not an offering for sin. If Cain had taken the lamb and offered it first, and then when he knew God had accepted it and pardoned his sins, had brought the fruit as an acknowledgment of his gratitude to God for all the good things God had given him, then God would have been pleased with it. So we say now, 'I will try and be very good ; I will do something for God '. This is all very well, dear children, and we should do all this and much more ; but there is one thing we must do first. We must go to God as sinners, and seek pardon from Him for all our past sins. If this is not done, and we do not first give God our hearts, God will not be pleased with our works. All our working and all our trying will not take our sins away, will it? Abel brings his lamb ; it had never committed any sin ; he had. By his sins he had forfeited his life, and he ought to die. He takes this guiltless thing, and as he lays it on the altar he sees himself lying there represented in that lamb. As it dies he beholds the death his own sins had merited. Cain's Offering Rejected. — And then, somehow or other, I don't know how, Cain knew that God had received Abel's ofltring, and that his own was re- jected. I have seen a picture, and I dai'e say you have also seen it, in which the two are in the field, each standing before his altar. The smoke from Abel's offering is going straight up to heaven ; whilst that of Cain's is all blowing about, so that he himself is almost hidden in the smoke from his own altar. We don't know whether this was so or not, but he knew very well that God was displeased with him. We know sometimes whether we are pleasing God or not. Something within tells us when we have been doing right or wi-ong. When we have been doing wrong we hardly like to see our parents ; we cannot look them straight in the face, can we? Somehow or other Cain knew that God had not received his offer- ing, and what did he feel about it ? I think very much as some of us do when others do better than we do. When, for instance, the prizes are given in the Sunday schools, and when we don't get a prize, what do we go home and tell our mothers ? ' Well, mother, I have been very naughty this year and not learnt my lessons, and have not been so attentive as I should have been, and I have caused my teacher a great deal of pain.' Is that what we say ? or is it, ' Janie got the prize because she is teacher's favourite ' ? Is that more like it ? It is sometimes the same at the end of the school year, is it not ? You know best. And sometimes we have anything but the kindliest of feelings towards those who gain the prize. I know there are noble-minded children, who try all they can to get a prize ; but if they fail, are the first to praise those who win it. But I wish there were more of this kind. Does Cain say, ' I have been very silly ; yea, I have been very wicked ; I will go and get a iamb at once and offer it to God ' ? No ; I quite think he went away, saying, ' Abel is God's favourite ; God favours my brother. It's no use my trying to do what is right ; God will not receive it. I hate my brother.' And the more he thought of it the more angry he became with God, and the more he hated his brother. One day the brothers met in the field and began to talk to each other, and Cain grew very angry, and the envious feeling grew stronger, and he got into a violent passion, and struck his brother and slew him, and Cain was a murderer. ' I Couldn't Help It.' — On going down to the cells one morning in the prison of which I was then chap- lain, I met a man whom I had had under my care more than once. I found him very sullen and down- cast, and after a little conversation I commenced questioning him about his offence. He had been frequently sent to prison for drunkenness. So I said, ' Well, H , you have a long time now — three months. Tell me how it happened that you have so long a term this time.' ' Well, sir,' he re plied, ' I don't know anything about it. I got drunk, I suppose, and they said I knocked my mother about. I suppose I did, but I don't know anything about it, and if I did do it, you see, sir, I couldn't help it.' The real truth of the case was this : This young man, of about twenty-four years of age, got very drunk, and on going home at night began to beat his poor widowed mother so badly that he knocked her down, and then kicked her. The police interfered, and the young man was taken before the magistrates. His mother could hardly be got to give evidence against her son, although he had been so cruel. She said he was very kind to her when he was sober. This was the thing that he said he could not help. Drink made him do it. Drink was the master, and this man was a slave to it. I suppose you agree with me, that if he could not help beating his mother when he was drunk, he ought not to get drunk, don't you? Now you very often say and do things when you are in a temper or passion that you are sorry for afterwards, and you say, ' I could not help it, because I lost my temper '. My dear child, my young friend, you have no more right to get into a passion than that young man had to get drunk. You do not know what dreadful thing you may do when passion is master and you are the slave. Jesus says, and Jesus never said anything that was not true, ' Who- soever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the j udgment (Matt. v. 21) . St. John says, ' Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer ' (1 John iii. 15). ' And the Lord said to Cain, Where is Abel thy brother?' And Cain replied, 'I know not'. Thus he tries to hide his sin from God by telling a lie. Even now he shows no sign of repentance, and so God passes sentence. He must be a fugitive and a vagabond. Cain is to be a wanderer all his days. Poor Cain ! He hangs his head ; his punishment is 18 Ver. 22. GENESIS V Ver. 22. very heavy. He cries, ' My punishment is greater than I can bear '. If he had only done as God told him, if he had brought the lamb and asked God to forgive him, he would not have committed his terrible sin, and would have been spai'ed this awful punish- ment. And now suppose, as Cain went out from the presence of God, with his head hanging down and his heart overwhelmed with sorrow, some one had dravvn near to him, and said, ' Cain, what is the matter ? ' and he had answered, ' Oh, I have been so wicked ; I have given way to an angry passion and killed my brother, and God has doomed me, and I am become a vagabond and a wanderer ! ' And supposing the stranger had said, ' Cain, I am very sorry for you, and there is a mark on your brow ; what is that ? ' ' That mark brands me as a murderer.' And then suppose the stranger had said, ' Well, Cain, I will take that mark on myself, and / will go out and be a wanderer for you,' don't you think Cain would have loved him ? I think he would. But no such stranger came to Cain. What is the punishment due to our sins? Is it not greater than we can bear ? God has said, ' The soul that sinneth it shall die '. We cannot, and we need not, bear our own punishment. Cain had no one to bear his, but there is One to bear ours. Don't you think we ought to love Him for it ? Just think, what would it be, supposing we had no Saviour to bear our punishment for us ? We all hope to get to heaven by and by, but there would not be the slightest chance of going there. Heaven would have been the home of angels, but not of you and me. Those bright spirits would have enjoyed God's presence, but we should not. Let us look at the Lamb of God in the garden of Gethsemane. Why is He so sorrowful ? why that in- tense grief? Dear child. He is bearing thy punish- ment for thee. See, they have made bare His back, and the scourge falls heavy upon it ; it is bleeding. He is bearing thy punishment. Those stripes should have fallen on thee. They press the crown of thorns on His brow till the blood trickles down over that lovely face. They mock Him, they smite Him, they spit upon Him. He bears it patiently. Why ? Because it is thy punishment. Loving Saviour, oh, how He loves ! They have nailed Him to the cross ; they have pierced His side. His blood runs down on that altar. He groans ; He cries out in His pain. He is bearing thy punishment. ' It is finished ' ; the pain is over. He has paid the debt. He dies. He has borne, dear child, thy punishment. He has given His innocent life for thv guilty one. My child, He bore thy punishment ; He paid thy debt. Could He have done more ? Did He leave anything undone ? — J. Stephens, Living Water for Little Pitchers, p. 60. ENOCH THE MODEL WALKER 'And Enoch walked with God.' — Genesis v. 22. This is a short account to give of a life that was three hundred years long ; but it is a very satisfactory account. We hear a great deal, in these days, about walking and walkers. Men, and women too, spend days and weeks in walking matches. A sum of money is offered as a prize, and the one who proves the best walker gets the prize. I have no wish to join company with these walkers. But here, in our text, we have a grand old walker spoken of I should like to join company with him; yes, and I should like all my young friends to unite with me in trying to take the walk which Enoch took. Enoch comes next, in our course of ' Bible Models '. He stands before us as 'The Model Walker'. What we are told about him is that — 'Enoch walked with God '. And the question we have to try and answer is this : What sort of a walk is a walk with God ? And in answering this question there are four things about this walk of which we wish to speak. I. In the first place, if we Wall< with Qod, we shall find that we have — •' a Safe ' — Walk. — There are many places in which people walk that are very dangerous ; but if we are walking with God, as Enoch was. He will guard us from danger, and make the path in which we are walking safe. Look, for a moment, at some of the things told us in the Bible, to show how safe we are, when we are walking with God. There was a time in the life of the patriarch Abraham when he thought himself in great danger. And no doubt this was true. He had done some- thing which gave great offence to several very power- ful kings who lived near him. He had every reason to expect that they would raise a mighty army, and come against him to destroy him. God knew just how Abraham was feeling, and He gave him this sweet promise for his comfort : — 'Fear not, Abram, I am thy shield' (Gen. xv. 1). This must have been very cheering to Abraham. It was just what he needed. It was enough to take away all his fears. In several sweet passages of Scripture, God says He will uphold His people, and save them by His right hand. And in one place He promises to keep thera ' as the apple of His eye '. No part of the body is so carefully protected as the eye. And this gives us a good illustration of the safety of those who walk with God. A safe walk. — During a sudden freshet, a labour- ing man and his child, living in a cottage that stood by itself, were obliged to walk at midnight for more than a mile through water reaching to the little boy's waist before they could reach a place of safety. After they had changed their clothes, and were feeling comfortable, the friend in whose cottage they had found shelter said to the little boy, ' And wasn't you afraid, Jack, while walking through the water ? ' ' No, not at all,' said the little fellow, who was but seven years old : ' I was walking along with father, you know. And I knew he wouldn't let the water drown me.' This was very sweet And if, like Enoch, we are walking with God, let us remember that we are walking with our heavenly Father. And 19 Ver. 22. GENESIS V Ver. 22. He promises us expressly, ' When thou passest throuirh the waters, they shall not overflow thee ' (Is. XLin. 2). Here is a good illustration of the safety of those who are walking with God. Hidden and safe. — One morning a teacher found many empty seats in her schoolroom. Two little scholars lay dead at their homes, and others were sick. The few children present gathered round her, and said, ' Oh ! what shall we do ? Do you think we shall be sick, and die too ? ' The teacher gently touched the bell, and said, 'Children, you are all afraid of this disease. You grieve for the death of your little finends, and you fear that you also may be taken. I only know of one thing for us to do, and that is to hide. Listen while I read to you about a hiding-place. Then she read the ninety-first Psalm, which begins thus : 'He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High, shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty '. They were all hushed by the sweet words, and then the morning lesson went on as usual. At recess, a dear little girl came up to the desk, and said, 'Teacher, aren't you afraid of the diph- thei-ia ? ' ' No, my child,' she answered. ' Well, wouldn't you be, if you thought you would be sick, and die ? ' ' No, dear, I trust not.' The child gazed wonderingly at her for a moment ; and then her face lightened up as she said, ' Oh ! I know ! You are hidden under God's wings. What a nice safe place that is to hide in ! ' II. Walking with God is ' a Safe ' Walk. But in the second place, Walking with Qod is — ' a Useful ' — Walk. — Suppose that you and I were taking a walk through the wards of a hospital. It is full of people who are suffering from accidents, and diseases of different kinds. There are some people there with broken limbs. Some are blind, others are deaf; and some are sick with various fevers, and consumption. And suppose, that like our blessed Lord, we had the power, as we went from one bed to another, to heal the sick and suffering people in that ho.spital. Here is a lame man. We make his limbs straight and strong so that he can walk. Here is a blind man. We touch his eyes with our fingers ; they open, and he can see. We speak to those who are suffering from diseases of different kinds, and make them well. Then we might well say that our walk through that hospital was a useful walk. But we have no such power as this to cure the diseases from which the bodies of men are suffering. Yet this may afford us a good illustration of what we can do for the souls that are suffering around us, when we become Christians, and walk with God. This world is like a hospital. It is full of souls suffering, in various ways, from the evils which sin has brought upon them. The truth of the Gospel is God's gi-eat cure for all these evils. David teaches us this when he says that ' He sent His word and healed them ' (Ps. cvn. 20). And Jesus was referring to this when He said : ' As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life ' (John III. 14, 15). Moses never did a more useful thing in all his life than when he lifted up that serpent of brass upon the pole, so that all the people who had been bitten by these fiery serpents, and who were suffering and dying from the bite, might look to that uplifted serpent, and live. And when we walk with God, as His loving children and servants, bv our words, as well as by our actions, we are helping to 'lift up the Son of man,' or to make Jesus known to those around us. This is the only thing that can heal the souls that have been bitten by the serpent sin, and make them well and happy. And if we can do anything like this by walking with God, it must make that a very useful walk. A little act useful. — Not long ago, a Christian gentleman, who was trying to do good wherever he went, stepped into a passenger car in the city of New York. Before taking his seat, he gave to each passenger a little illuminated card, on which were printed these words, ' Look to Jesus when tempted, when troubled, when dying '. One of the passengers carefully read the card, and then put it in his pocket. As he left the car he said to the gentleman who had distributed the cards : ' Sir, when you gave me this card I was on my way to the ferry, intending to jump from the boat, and drown myself. The death of my wife and son had robbed me of all desire to live. But this card has led me to change my mind. I am going to be^in and try to lead a better life. Good-day, and may God bless you.' The gentleman who gave those cards was making his walk with God a useful walk. III. Walking with Qod is — ' a Pleasant' — Walk. — When we are taking a walk there are several things that will help to make up the pleasure to be found in that walk. If we have a guide to show us the road ; if we have a pleasant companion to talk with, as we go on our way ; if we have plenty of re- freshments— nice things to eat and drink ; if there are bright and cheerful prospects around and before us ; and especially, if we are sure of a nice comfort- able home to rest in, when our walk is ended, these will help to make it pleasant. But when we walk with God, as Enoch did, we have all these things, and more too. And these are sure to make it a pleasant walk. Solomon is speaking of this walk when he says : ' Its ways are ways of pleasantness, and all its paths are peace '. But if you wish to know all about the journey through some particular country, there is no better way of finding this out than by askin^^ those who have made the journey what they have to say about it. And this is what we may do here. Let us see what some of those who have walked with God have to say about the pleasantness of this walk. 20 Ver. 22. GENESIS v., VI Ver. 3. Living alone. — ' I visited a poor old woman be- longing to my congregation,' said a minister. ' She was entirely dependent on the church for her support. Her home was a very small cottage. The moment I entered it I saw how neat and clean everything was. She had just been gathering some sticks from the lane, with which to cook her evening meal. Her face was one of the sweetest I ever saw. It was surrounded by the strings of her snow-white cap. On the table lay a well-worn copy of the Word of God. I looked around for a daughter or friend to be her companion, and caretaker, but saw none. I said: "Mother Ansel, vou don't live here alone, do you ? " ' " Live alone ! Live alone ! " she exclaimed in sur- prise, and then, as a sweet smile lighted up her face, she added, " No, sir, the blessed Lord lives with me, and that makes it pleasant living ! " Certainly she found walking with God a pleasant walk.' IV. Walking with God is ^ — 'a Profitable ' — Walk. — We see a good deal of walking done without much profit. But sometimes we hear of people who are able to make their walking pay. There was a walking match in New York not long ago. A number of persons were engaged in it, and the man who won the prize secured twenty-five thousand dollars. That was profitable walking, so far as money was concerned, but walking with God is more profit- able than this. Suppose there was a savings bank half a mile from your house, and you were told that if you walked to that bank every week, and put a penny in the treasury, for every penny you put in you would get a dollar at the end of the year. A penny a week would make fifty-two pennies by the end of the year, and if for these fit'ty-two pennies you were to receive fifty -two dollars, that would make your walk to the bank profitable walking. It would be getting what we call a hundredfold for the money invested there. There is no such savings bank as this. But, when we learn to walk with God, we find that serving Him is just like putting money in such a bank. Jesus says that if we give a cup of cold water to one of His disciples, or if we suffer for Him, or do any work for Him, we ' shall receive a manifold more in this pre- sent time, and in the world to come life everlasting '. And if such rewards are given to those who walk with Him, then we may well say that that is profit- able walking. Please help me. — Little Johnnie was only four years old, but he was trying to be a Christian, and walk with God, and he found profit in it. One day he was busy in the sunny corner of the nursery trying to build up a castle with his blocks. Just as the last block was being put to the tower to finish it, it all came tumbling down with a crash. Johnnie gazed a moment at the ruins with a look of disappointment, and then, folding his little hands, devoutly said, ' Dear Lord, please help me '. Then he went to building his castle again. But as he was finishing it down it tumbled the second time. Hot tears came into Johnnie's eyes ; but quickly dashing them away with the back of his hand, he kneeled down over the ruins of his fallen building, and, lifting up his eyes to heaven, quietly said, ' Please, Lord, help me to build, so it won't tumble down ; and please don't let me get mad, for Jesus' sake. Amea' Then he went to work again, and built his castle so that it didn't tumble down. Enoch was a model walker, because he ' walked with God '. Let us all try to follow his example, and we shall find that walking with God is a safe walk; a useful walk ; a pleasant walk ; and a profitable walk. — Richard Newton, Bible Models, p. 15. THE HOLY GHOST ' My Spirit shall not always strive with man.' — Genesis vx. 3. A FAMOUS painting of Christ on the cross had a wonderful power over all who saw it. It was so real and life-like that they felt as if Christ crucified were evidently set forth before their eyes. The painter was asked how he had managed to put so much feeling into the picture. ' Ah ! ' he replied, ' I painted it all on my knees.' He painted in a prayerful spirit. Like him, we should muse upon our present subject on the knees of our hearts ; for we are to consider the Holy Ghost, who, with the Father and the Son, is God over all, blessed for ever. The very name should subdue, and bring a sort of awe over us. Holy Spirit, breathe upon our souls now, and new-create us for the semce of our God. I have chosen one of the first of the many verses in the Bible that speak of the Spirit, for He is mentioned about three hundred times in the New Testament alone. ' My Spirit,' God says in Genesis vi. 3, ' My Spirit shall not always strive with man'. This address has three parts : — I. The Spirit Striving. II. Man Resisting. III. Man Yielding. Before the flood the Spirit strove with all, but the people resisted, while Noah yielded. These three parts will give us, as in three chapters, the history of the Spirit's work in the heart of man. I. The Spirit Striving. — Our text proves that the Spirit strives almost always with all men, even with those who are giants in sin. The words ' not always ' mean that. The Spirit takes no such Sabbath-rest as the Creator enjoyed. You ask, ' But how does the Spirit strive ? ' Well, I hardly know where to begin with my answer. For the ever-busy Spirit of God visits the ever-busy spirit of man in ways we dream not of. He is like the wind which is con- stantly playing around us ; now in the gentle breeze that fans the brow, and again with tones of thunder in the tempest. But we had better go to the Bible at once. There we learn that He strives with men chiefly about sin and the Saviour. 1. He strives as the Reprover of Sin. 'And when He (the Spirit) is come, He will reprove the world of sin ' (John xvi. 8), and chiefly of the sin of not believing on Christ. When conscience checks you for any sin, and makes you wish you had not 21 Ver. 3. GENESIS VI Ver. 3. done it ; when you feel that you have not treated Christ as you should — that is the Spirit striving with you. And the Spirit strives thus with the chief of sinners. I once lived in a village in which there were two notorious characters, whom I came to know. The one was a poor woman. Her neighbours didn't know her, she said. They fancied she had no thought of God ; but they were mistaken. Pointing to a little house, she told me that often in the dark winter nights she had stood at the window, shivering in the rain and snow, that she might hear the good Christian, who lived there, praying at family worship. She hoped that his prayers would do good to her bad heart. The other was a man who had often been in jail. One day he opened his heart to me in words like these: 'You're not to think I'm content to live this way. Many is the strange thought of my own I have, especially on Sabbath days. I see my neighbours, with their nicely dressed children, going past our road-end to the khk, and I often wish to go with them. I wonder why they never speak to me about joining them. But they never heed nie, just as if I was a beast, and not a man. I often think with David, " No one cared for my soul ".' He spoke through his tears. The Spirit had been striving mightily for years with these two wild people. It Would be as easy to find a man or woman with two heads, as to find one in this Christian land with whom God's Spirit has not striven as the Reprover of sin. 2. The Spirit also strives as the Inviter to Christ, and the Revealer of Christ. ' The Spirit and the Bride say, Come ' ; and as to when you are to come, ' the Holy Ghost saith, to-day ' ; and Christ says, ' He shall glorify me, for he shall receive of mine, and shall shew it unto you '. Often good desires spring up in you ; you wish you were good ; you wish you could live without the fear of death ; your heart is moved sometimes by the wondrous love of God and the Saviour ; some sweet text or hymn gives you a sense of Christ's matchless beauty ; sometimes you feel that it is sad and sinful not to follow Him. Ah, it is the Spirit gently striving, that He may draw you unto the Saviour ! II. Man Resisting the Spirit — The Spirit could not strive with man, unless man strove with the Spirit, for it takes two for a striving. If man did not resist, the Spirit would be known only as the heavenly Teacher, whom all gladly obeyed. But at the flood everybody opposed the Spirit, except Noah and his family. And Stephen, the first Martyr, said to the Jews, ' Ye do always resist the Holy Ghost ; as your fathers did, so do ye '. You can easily fancy what sort of men they were in Noah's day — great giants in body, mind, and sin ; despising Noah and his warnings, making rare sport of the saint and his ark. Of course, none of you would be guilty of such bad behaviour. Yet I can believe that some of the giants did not openly resist Noah, and yet resisted the Holy Ghost. They were no scoffers, nor enemies of Noah ; but they did not care for his religion or his sermons. They would not be troubled about such things. An army may be resisted by soldiers ; but it also often meets with resistance from a mass of rock lying across the path. Enginefrs estimate its power of resistance, as they call it, and consider how they can overcome it. And so there are people who do not openly oppose what is good, while their thoughtless hearts are like a rock deeply rooted in the earth, and they are as successful rosisters of the Spirit as the men who were drowned by the flood. If you often hear God's Word, but never heed it ; if you won't think about good things ; if you al- ways say that there will be time enough by and by, then you are resisting God's Spirit, though you are no liar, or swearer, or .scoffer. ' Grieve not the Holy Spirit,' the Apostle says most touch- ingly, ' whereby ye are sealed unto the day of re- demption.' III. Man Yielding to the Spirit. — The difference between resisting and yielding is the difference be- tween the giants perishing in the flood and Noah safe in the ark. You should yield as Noah yielded. He yielded once for all in conversion and always in holy living. We do not know the time when Noah yielded ; but, unless he was one of those who are sanctified from childhood, there was a time when his selfish w'ill was conquered, and he gave himself to God. A soul is truly converted when he yields thus to the striving Spirit. Sometimes the struggle lasts for years. Many have described their feelings under it. Two men, as it were, wrestled in the same breast ; two wills fought against each other. The Spirit strove to conquer the heart. He used the terrors of the law and the sweet mercies of the gospel, that the man might be both driven and drawn to the Saviour. Often he was on the point of yielding ; he almost did it, yet did it not. He had his finger on the latch, and his foot on the threshold ; a single step would have brought him into the kingdom ; he had the one foot lifted to take it, and then drew back. Even Agrippa was in such a state when he confessed, ' Almost thou persuadest me to be a Chris- tian '. A man lately thus described to me one of his companions : ' His heart is touched, and he has given insofar; but he has not just taken the jump yet. He's like the pendulum : sometimes he seems to be on the right side, and again he is on the wrong.' A Kaffir chief, who had long been halting between two opinions, declared his decision to the missionary by saying, ' I have now leapt the ravine '. He had fairly yielded to the Spirit, who had long been pressing him to leap over the boundary between his idols and the Saviour. It would be a joy to me if I could help you to understand what true decision is ; and I will take from the Bible another illu.stration, which places before us another side of this yielding. Isaiah prophesies of Jesus, ' He will not quench the smoking flax ' (xlii. 3) ; that is, the feeble, flickering wick in the lamp. Now, you have a good desire in your heart. It may be very faint, like the smoking flax, which gives out much smoke, but no 22 Ver. 3. GENESIS VI Ver. 22. clear flame. Still it is there. Thank God for it ; and thank God too that His Spirit strives to kindle it into a steady flame. While Noah yielded once for all at his conversion, his whole life was a yielding to the Spirit. He was like soft clay in the hand of the heavenly Potter, who shaped him into a vessel fit for carrying the treasures of grace to men. So fi\r as we know, he yielded al- ways, except once when he drank strong drink, and made himself the scorn of fools. In our day as in Noah's, strong drink, more than any other outward thing, hinders men from yielding to the Spirit. It has the dreadful power of darkening all the soul, and making the heart unyielding. My advice to you about it is, ' Touch not, taste not, handle not '. If you take that advice, I ;im sure that you will never rue it. Don't think that you are in no danger ; for Noah, preacher of righteousness, and builder of the ark for one hundred and twenty years, Noah — amid all the warnings of the flood, and fresh from a new covenant with God — even Noah was found lying drunk in his tent. Beware. But, with that one exce|)tion, he was a whole man on the side of God. He yielded always to the Spirit as his Guide, Enlightener, Comforter, and Sanctifier. We must yield wholly and gladly. A clever Fiji chief, who was a great politician, died lately. ' My right hand is Wesleyan, he used to say, 'my left hand is the Pope's, and all the rest of my hotly belongs to the idols.' In the service of Christ you cannot cut and cai've as he did ; you must yield all or nothing. And it is easy to yield all when the heart has been lovingly yielded. It may seem very hard to do all a Christian should. But you must re- member that he gets a new nature ; and the new life is as natural and pleasant for the new nature as the old life was for the old nature. It is misery and death for a fish to breathe on dry land ; but give the fish the nature of a bird, and it will rejoice in the sunshine. Dr. Livingstone's Nassick boys and Jo- hanna men were always complaining, and at last deserted, while he gladly pushed on in spite of disease. He and they had the very same work, only it was much easier to them than to him ; but his heart was in it, while theirs was not ; and that made all the difference. What a grief if yoH were forced from your snug homes to spend a winter in the Arctic regions ! But many rich men have been glad and proud to do so ; and many more who were not chosen for the expeditions were sorely disappointed. For they had a heart for these bold enterprises. They were smit with the desire of fame, and of gi'and dis- coveries. Now the new life would be like a winter in Greenland, if you had to live it with the old nature. But the Spirit gives us a taste for it, and joy in it, so that we prefer it to any other, and choose it as the only life worth having. The Spirit writes God's laws in the heart, and then duty is ehanged into delight. My last word is yield — yield to the striving Spirit. — Jajies Wills, Bible Echoes, p. 217. NOAH, THE MODEL WORKER ' Thus did Noah ; according to all that God commanded him, so did he.' — Genesis vi. 22. We may consider Noah as 'The Model Worker'. In our text, what we read of him is thus expressed : ' Thus did Noah ; according to all that God com- manded him, so did he '. And in setting his example before us as a model worker, we may notice five things about his way of working, in which we may well try to imitate him. I. Noah was — ' a Ready ' — Worker. — And in this respect he is a good model to set before us. It was a very hard thing that Noah was com- manded to do. He was told to build an ark, or a ship, that was very remarkable for its size. Nothing like it had ever been heard of before. Its length was to be four hundred and fifty feet, its breadth seventy- five feet, and its height forty-five feet. This was much larger than any of our ordinary ships of war. But Noah was not a shipbuilder himself, neither were his sons. He did not live in a seaport town, where the people w-ere familiar with the business of building ships. He lived in an inland country, far away from the sea ^Ve do not know that he, or any one else then living in the world, had ever seen a large .ship. No doubt they had canoes and other small boats for crossing the rivers. But we have no reason to suppose that any vessels larger than these had ever been built. And this must have made the work that Noah was told to do very hard indeed. How easy it would have been for him to make excuses when God commanded him to build that huge ark ! He might have said, very truthfully, ' I do not know anything about the work of building ships. I have no ship carpenters to help me, and know not where to get any.' And if, for reasons like these, he had begged to be excused from undertaking a work of so much difficulty, it would not have been at all surprising. But Noah did nothing of the kind. He did not make the slightest objection. Instead of this he went out to work at once. No doubt he asked God to help him. And when we get such help as He can give, nothing can be too hard for us. The Apostle believed this fully, when he said, ' I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me '. And when we remember how readily Noah went to work to do the hard thing that God had commanded him to do, we may well speak of him as a model worker. It is always pleasant to see those who follow Noah's example, and do the work they have to do in the same ready way. Here is a good illustration of what I mean. A sensible boy. — George Harris was a bright in- telligent boy, about thirteen years of age. One day he was sitting on the porch, in front of his house, reading one of those yellow-coloured novels that do so much harm to all who read them. His father came up at that moment, and was sorry to see how George was occupied. 23 Ver. 22. GENESIS VI Ver. 22. ' What are you reading, George ? ' he asked. The little fellow felt ashamed as he looked up ; but he gave the name of the book. ' I am sorry to see you reading such a book,' said Mr. Harris. ' I have known many persons injured by reading books of that kind ; but I never knew any one benefited by them.' This was all he said, and then he went into the house. Not long after he saw a light in the next room to that in which he was sitting. Going to the door of the room he saw George tearing up and burning a book. ' What are you doing, my son ? ' he asked. ' I am burning up the book you told me not to read.' ' And what are you doing that for ? ' ' Because I am sure you know better than I do, about it.' George was following the example of Noah, as a ready worker. II. Noah was a Model Worker, because he was — ' a Persevering ' — Worker. If we have anything hard to do, or anything that will take a long time in which to do it, we never can succeed in doing it without perseverance. The mean- ing of this word, perseverance, is to keep on trying with a thing until we get through. And no one ever had so much need of perseverance as Noah had in the work he was told to do. From the day when God first spoke to him about building the ark, until it was finished, one hundred and twenty years passed away. All that time he was engaged in the work. And he knew, at the beginning, how long it would take him. We often begin to do things without knowing at all how long it will take us to get through with them. But God told Noah distinctly how long it would be, from the time when he began to build the ark, until the flood should come, which was to destroy the earth. We see this in Genesis vx 3, when it says, man's ' days shall be an hundred and twenty years '. How strangely Noah must have felt when he laid the first piece of timber in the keel of the ark, and knew how many years wei-e to pass away before that great vessel would be completed ! We read of men who have become famous by the discoveries or inventions they have made, such as the art of printing, the use of steam-engines, and other things. Some of these men were working away for seven, or ten, or fifteen, or twenty years, before they finished their work. And when we read about the difficulties they had to overcome before thev succeeded in what they were trying to do, and how they per- severed in overcoming these difficulties, we cannot but wonder at them. And yet, how short the time was in which they did their work, compared with the hundred and twenty years through which Noah had to go on labouring ! His peiseverance was the most wonderful ever heard of in the history of our world. How much trouble he must have had in getting the right kind of wood with which to build the ark ! And when the wood was found, how much trouble he must have had in getting the right sort of workmen to carry on the building ! And how many other difficulties he must have had, of which no account is given ! But, notwithstanding all these difficulties, he went patiently on, for a hundred and twenty yeai-s, till his work was done. How well we may speak of Noah as a model of perseverance ! Let us study this model, till we learn to persevere, in all the work we try to do, for God, or for our fellow-men. Here are some other illustrations of perseverance, that may help us in trying to learn this lesson. The shovel and the snowdrift. — After a great snowstorm, a little fellow about seven or eight years old was trying to make a path through a large snow- band, which had drifted before his grandmother's door. A gentleman who was passing by was struck with the earnestness with which he was doing his work. He stopped to look at him for a moment, and then said : — ' My little man, how do you ever expect to get through that great snow-bank ? ' In a cheerful tone, and without stopping at all in his work, the little fellow's reply was : — 'By keeping at it, sir. That's how.' ' By keeping at it ' Noah was able to get through with the great work he had to do. And it is only ' by keeping at it ' that we can expect to succeed in any good work in which we may be engaged. Stroke on stroke. — James Barker was a farmer's boy about twelve years old. One day his father gave him an axe, and told him to cut down an old tree which stood in front of their house. He went to work on the tree, but his blows made little impression on it. By and by he got discouraged, and sat down on a log to rest. ' It's no use,' said he in a doleful sort of way. ' What's no use ? ' asked an old wood-chopper who was j ust then passing by. ' Why, for me to try to cut down this tree.' ' Nonsense, my boy ! you can do it. Just keep at it. Stroke on stroke will cut down the biggest tree that ever grew. Don't expect to cut it down with one blow. Remember stroke on stroke.' This is an important lesson to learn. It was by ' stroke on stroke ' that Noah built the ark. With God's blessing we shall alwaj's succeed by 'stroke on stroke '. III. Noah was a Model Worker because he was — ' a Thorough ' — Worker. — We see this in our text when it tells us, ' Thus did Noah ; according to all that God commanded him, so did he'. Some people are willing to obey God just so long as He tells them to do what they like to do. But if He commands them to do anything that is disagree- able, they are not willing to obey Him. But this was not the way in which Noah obeyed God. We cannot doubt for a moment but that in the great work of building the ark there were many things he had to do which were veiy disagreeable to him. But this made no difference with Noah. The question 24 Ver. L"J. GENESIS VI Ver. 22. with him was not, is this, or that, or the other thing, which I am doing, pleasant to me? is it what I like to do? No ; but it was — is this what God has told me to do? If it wa.s, he did it. 'All that God commanded him he did.' And it is very important for us to follow the example of Noali in this respect, because this is the only kind of service that God will accept. It was what David taught us when he said, ' Then shall I not be ashamed when I have respect unto all Thy com- mandments '. And this was what Jesus taught us when He said, ' Ye are my Mends if ye do whatso- ever I command you '. And it is always pleasant to meet with persons who are trying to serve God as thoroughly as Noah did. IV. Noah was a Model Worker, because he was — ' a Courageous ' — Worker. — If we had a history of all that took place while Noah was building the ark, how inteiesting it would be! It was such a strange work that he was engaged in ! Nothing like it had ever been heard of in that country. People would come from all quarters. They would look on in wonder. They would ask Noah why he was building such a great vessel as that, where there was no water within reach for it to sail in? And when he told them, as no doubt he did, that God was going to send a flood of water to drown the world for its wickedness, and that when the flood came he and his family would be saved in this ark that he was build- ing, then we can easily imagine how they would laugh at him. They would say he was crazy. They would call him an old fool, and make all sorts of fun of him. And this is something which it is always very hard to bear. Many men who have courage enough to go boldly into battle, and face the glittering swords or roaring cannon of their enemies, have not courage enough to go on doing a thing when men laugh at them, and ridicule them for doing it. But Noah did not mind this at all. He let them laugh as much as tliey pleased, while he went quietly on with the work that God had given him to do. And so we may well say that he was a courageous worker. And we must imitate the example of Noah in this respect if we wish to sei"ve God acceptably. We must be brave enough to do what we know to be right, no matter what others may say or do. And it is always pleasant to see those who have courage to do what is right, as Noah did. A noble hoy. — A poor boy who had a patch on his knee was attending school. One of his school- mates nicknamed him ' Old Patch '. ' Why don't you fight him ? ' asked another of the boys. ' I'd give it to him if he called me such a name.' ' Oh ! ' answered the boy, ' you don't suppose I'm ashamed of my patch, do you ? For my part I'm thankful for a good mother to keep me out of rags. I honour my patch for her sake.' That was the right kind of courage. V. Noah was a Model Worker, because he was — 'a Successful' — Worker— He laboured onthrough all those long years until the ark was finished. And then, when the flood came, he was saved himself, and his family was saved, while all the rest of the world were swept away in their wickedness. And who can tell how much good Noah did by his successful work on the ark ? That good has extended to all who have lived since then. You and I owe a debt of gratitude to Noah for his successful work. If it had not been for the way in which he did that work, we never should have lived in this world, and never have had the opportunity of doing any good here. And when we think of all the good that has been done in the world, we see that Noah has had a part in it ; for unless he had worked as he did till the ark was finished, none of this good could ever have been done. And this is a thought that may well encourage us in working for God. We never can tell how success- ful our work may be, and what great good may follow from it. Praying over lessons. — ' There,' said a little boy, ' I've learned my lessons sooner than ever I did be- fore. I do believe it did me good to pray over my books.' He was asked what he meant by saj'ing that. ' Well, you see, when I came home from school and looked over my lessons, they seemed very hard. At first I said to myself, " I never can learn them in the little tiuie I have to give to them." But then, I re- membered what my Sunday school teacher had told me about Daniel and his three friends ; so I thought if prayer helped them it might help me. Then I prayed over my lessons, asking God to help me and give me a good memory, and then I learned my lessons in half the time it generally took me.' Here was a successful worker. And we shall find prayer a great help to success in all the work we have to do. — Richard Newton, Bible Models, p. 30. THE MAN WHO OBEYED ' Thus did Noah ; according to all that God commanded him, so did he.' — Genesis vi. 22. Sometimes when I get a group of meiTy boys and girls about me, they ciy out, ' Now please to tell us a story '. ' What kind of a story ? ' I ask them. ' What must it be about ? ' 'Oh, about lions and wild beasts,' say the little ones. ' No,' say the boys, ' about the sea and narrow escapes, and something dreadful, you know.' Well, think what a wonderful Book God has given for all of us. Stories of lions and bears ; stories of giants like the great Goliath ; stories of wild storms at sea, like that Jonah was in, and like that in which Paul was wrecked. As wonderful as any of them is this story about Noah and his ai'k. It was one thousand six hundred years after the creation of the world. All the people everywhere began to forget God. They gave up praying to Him, and worshipped the sun, and the moon, and the stars. Now God looked down from heaven, and saw all the wickedness that was done, and we are told that it grieved Him at His heart. For God sees everybody. 25 Ver. 22. GENESIS VI Ver. 22. and is always grieved by our wrongdoing. I should like you to think of that for a moment or two. Look at it in the sixth verse — -it grieved Him at His heart. 'Father,' said a little girl one day, 'you won't love me if I am not good, will you ? ' The father thought quietly for a moment as the little face looked up to him, and then he said, ' Yes, I shall love you ; only it will be with a grieved kind of love that hurts me '. Dear children, it is a very dreadful thing that God should be angry with us, but I think it is very much worse that He should be grieved at His heart by anything that we may do or say. Let us hate sin because God will punish it, as He punished this ; and yet let us hate it more because it grieves our Heavenly Father. Whilst all the people were thus forgetting the Lord, it hapjiened that a little lad was born in the house of his lather Lamech. His grandfather was the very oldest man that ever lived, and you can think how the boy would stand beside the old, old man Methuselah, and listen to the wonderful things that he could remember. He knew Adam quite well, and had heard all about the garden of Eden, and could tell how good man was at first, and how happy, until he began to rebel against God. So the lad grew up, thinking about these things, no doubt, and perhaps wishing that he could be as good as Adam had been once, and that God would come and talk with him too. Now Lamech called his son's name Noah, which means rest. He said, when he gave this boy his name, ' This same shall comfort us concerning our work and toil of our hands, because of the ground which the Lord hath cursed '. He thought of his son as a blessing from God. Lamech 's daily labour had troubled him, but his little son's winning ways helped him to forget his trouble, and to be more con- tent to work hard, and be weary. In loving Noah, and in thinking what he might be when grown up — a good and useful man — Lamech's heart found 'com- fort '. Perhaps he knew beforehand how much better Noah would be than all the other men and women in the world, and so could think of God Himself as tak- ing pleasure in him. Now, boys and girls, each of you try to be to your father and mother what Noah was to Lamech — 'rest' and 'comfort,' not vexation and trouble, so that God may be pleased with you and bless you. So Noah grew up to be a man, praying to God and seeking Him. Thus he 'found grace' in the eyes of God, and he served the Lord, with his wife and three sons. At the same time the other people grew worse and worse, until they had filled the earth with violence; and to punish them for their sins God was about to send a great flood and sweep them all away. One day as Noah was praying beside the altar on which he had offered his sacrifice — perhaps away in the shade of the trees, perhaps away on the still top of some high mountain — God spake to him about what He was going to do. God never speaks to us in that way now, because we have what Noah had not — we have the Word of God. That is His commandment and His will for us. Let us read what God said, in the thirteenth and fourteenth verses : ' And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before Me ; for the earth is filled with violence through them ; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth. Make thee an ark of gopher wood : rooms shalt thou make in the ark, and shall pitch it within and without with pitch.' Gopher wood is the wood of a large kind of cypress, very light and hard, and therefore well suited for this purpose. It was to be a very great ship, five hundred and twenty-five feet in length and eighty-seven feet broad — a great deal larger than any man-of-war. And in it all the animals were to be saved. You can think how strange and bewildering such a command must have sounded to Noah. How could he build it ? And how could the wild beast be got into it? He comes home and tells his wife and sons about it. They would think it very strange and very unlikely. Would God send a great flood to sweep all the people away — the strong men, the fair women, the little children? How many questions they would ask about it, and how many difficulties they would rai.se. But no matter how strange it seemed, or how difficult it might be, God had said so, and Noah at once made up his mind to do it. This is what you must notice most of all — how many times it says, ' Thus did Noah ; according to all that God commanded him, so did he '. But making up his mind to do it was not enough — he must set about it. And how should he begin? He was a man like us, and the things must have oc- curred to him as they do to us. ' How can I build an ark, I and my sons ? There is the wood to be cut down, and then it will take years to build ; or how shall I manage to keep the wild beasts alive ? They may eat us up, or we may perish in the flood after all.' And then I see him set out bravely with tiie axe. ' Never mind — God has told me to do it, and I will. He will help me,' he says. ' Thus did Noah ; according to all that God commanded him.' And so let us learn fearlessly to obey God. We can't see how this is going to be, or that. We don't know how we shall manage about this difficulty or the other. But what does all that matter? God has told us to do it, and when He commands. He always gives strength to obey. I have heard that Mr. Charles Wesley said one day, ' Ah, if I had a pair of wings I would fly '. Mr. John Wesley said, ' And if God told thee to fly, brother. He would give thee a pair of wings '. God always gives strength to do what He commands. Nobody need ever say ' / can't ' about anything that God tells us to do. ' Thus did Noah ; according to all that God commanded him, so did he.' Then Noah must have thought within himself again : ' What will the people say ? The clever men who know all about the stars and the sun will laugh at me, and will say that no such flood will come. Some of them, I dare say, will get angry 26 Ver. 22. GENESIS VI., IX Ver. 12. with me. But never mind what they say. God has told me to do it, and so I will.' So boys and maidens, let us be very l:old when God commands us. What does it matter that somebody may laugh at us ? The King of kings has commanded us. For Jesus, Who has loved us and given Himself for us, we can be bold. Here, too, let us be like Noah, 'according to all that God commanded him, so did he '. And now Noah begins to build his ship. Down from the forest they bring the timber ; the planks are measured and cut according to the message of God, and they are arranged in order. Day after day finds him at his work. Week after week he sticks to it. Months have gone, and he works on. Now it is years since he began, and yet you find him busied from morning to night with the ringing hammer and the saw. Old men that used to creep out and laugh at his folly have passed away. The little children who watched him cut the first trees and heard the hammer ring about the first planks have grown up to be men and women. I dare say it was everybody's joke, then. Perhaps they called it ' Noah's folly '. But, unwearied, Noah worked on. Summer vvent and winter came, and day after day he wrought on for forty years, and fifty years, for eighty years — there he was still, though a hundred years had gone. God had commanded him, and so he would obey. And all this time we may be sure that people would reason with him about being so foolish. The wise men would tell him that it was all nonsense — that no such flood had ever been heard of, and that it was impossible. If it did come, they could get away to the tops of the mountains. Besides, in such a toss and storm Noah's huge ship would be sure to go down. She would upset, said one. She would spring a leak, said another. She would be dashed on the rocks, said a third. The wild beasts would devour all the people, said a fourth. But their laughter did not move Noah. God had spoken, and he would obey. 'According to all that God com- manded, so did he.' And sometimes we shall perhaps begin to get tired, and think that God has forgotten His word. Then let us think of Noah. Sometimes the laughter is hard to bear. But let us keep on obeying. God has commanded, and we will do it. , At last the ark was finished. The creatm'es had come into it. Two and two they had gone up as God had commanded them. But now came a more severe trial of Noah's obedience than ever. Look at the seventh verse of the seventh chapter, and then at the tenth. After seven days the waters were upon the earth. Think of those seven days. The sun rises just as usual, throwing the shadow of the great ship far up the valley ; it creeps across the sky, and sets in the west without a token of a storm. Then the still stars creep out, and the quiet night passes without any teiTor. How they laugh now at this man in his ship, on dry land and with- out a sign of flood ! But on the seventh day the sun sets wild and threatening. The storm-clouds fill up the sky, lurid and terrible. The mockers look pale and troubled. And now the deluge bursts upon them. Floods leap from heaven to meet the swelling floods of river and sea. WikI waves sweep over the banks and join the surging torrents, and whole towns go down in the foaming watei-s ; and as the hosts sink shrieking they see the ark of refuge borne safely over the waters. Alas ! all vainly do they shout now for help from him whom for a hundred and twenty years men had laughed at and made their scorn. For forty days God watched over the little com- pany. Then the floods went back, and the shrinking waters let the ark i-est safely on the mountain top ; and as the rainbow spanned the earth with promise, Noah and his family stepped out into the silent world. And so let us be sure that God will always punish sin. It is a dreadful thing that He will never pass by or make light of And our only safety is in hearing His voice and obeying it. St. John tells us that this is His commandment — 'that we should believe in the name of His Son Jesus Christ '. Jesus Christ is our Ark of refuge. As the floods beat upon the ark which sheltered those within it, so our punishment falls upon Jesus, and by Him we are saved. It would have been a poor thing for Noah to have had an ark, and yet never to have gone into it. He went in, and the Lord ' shut him in '. And it is a poor thing for us to know all about the Saviour Jesus Christ, and yet not to be saved. Come, dear children, let us trust in Jesus as able and willing to save us, and let us cling to Him with all our heart. — Makk Guy Pearse, Sermons for Children, p. 34. THE RAINBOW 'And God said, This is the token of the covenant which I make betvsreen Me and you, and every living creature that is with you, for perpetual generations : I do set My bow in the cloud.' — Genesis ix. 12. The objects used in the Bible for lessons are simple, and such as are often seen by everybody except the blind. They are like the rainbow which fills the whole sky, and is seen as easily by the child as by the philosopher. This is one reason why the Bible is so popular and so ea.sily understood : it brings truth within reach of the senses, while its rich sign-language delights the imagination, and it invites us to enter the temple of truth through the gate that is called Beautiful. It is thus a book for the millions. If we adopt its methods of teaching the whole world may become a Bible to us, full of parables, pictures, and doctrines. As the Bible has so many object-lessons, we may, in any part of the world, gain or recall much sacred learning without books. For the lessons and objects are linked together in our minds, so that many of the things we see and handle body forth to our eyes the truths of the Gospel. Whenever, for 27 V'er. 12. GENESIS IX Ver. 12. example, you see the rainbow, you are reminded ot God's covenant of love with man, and the peace- speaking bow becomes a means of grace to you. The object here is large. It has two pai'ts, and suggests a third. These are I. The Storm-cloud. II. The Rainbow. III. The Sun. I. The Storm-cloud. — Every rainbow has a dark cloud for its background. That big cloud is here a sign of wonder and fear, as the rainbow is a sign of hope. The first pages of the Bible teach us the awfulness of sin, and of God's holy anger against sin. The vast objects teaching this lesson rise before the Bible-reader as the pyramids rise above the plain of Egypt. Think of the driving of Adam and Eve out of Paradise, of the flaming sword above the gate, of Cain's flight, of Sodom and Gomorrah, of the flood, and of this black judgment-cloud coveiing the affrighted world. All these are monuments of the evil of sin, and they tell us of judgment to come. They are ' an ensample unto those that after should live ungodly ' (2 Pet. II. 6), and they have roused many to flee from their sins. They are as the red signals along the line at night to warn of danger ahead. They declare as with a voice of thunder that he who sins must suff'er for his sin. But do not forget that all the words in the Bible that make you tremble are spoken in tenderest mercy. To a guilty conscience God's frown, like a big cloud, shuts out the sun and covers the whole earth with gloom. You should not try to shut this lesson out of your mind ; for I am sure that we all need it, as many things are apt to weaken our sense of sin. And then the dark background adds to the brightness of the glorious hues of the rainbow. Grace is so gracious because it conquers even sin : the rainbow is so very beautiful because it seems to spring out of the bosom of the fearful cloud. I have read that when the ancient Jews saw a rain- bow they confessed their sins. We Gentiles should also learn this first lesson from the rainbow, for its lesson of grace will be quite lost ujjon us unless we have felt and confessed our sins. The Gospel in both the Testaments is for sinners, and for nobody else. From the terrifying symbol of sin and wrath we gladly turn to the sweet token of hope and mercy. il. The Rainbow. — It is a great event in a child's life when, for the first time, he sees a rainbow. What a sb-ange joy the sight gives ! Wordsworth's lines are quoted so often because they state a happy fact that belongs to the life of every child : — My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky : So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old. Or let me die ! In all ages men have spoken in rapture of the rain- bow. ' It is indeed truly a heavenly messenger, and so unlike anything else that it scarcely seems to be- long to this world.' Ancient nations sang hymns when they saw it. They were not only smit with its beauty, but they rejoiced in it as a sign that the storm was past, and that they were about to enjoy the sweet and serene sunshine after the rain. Pliny declares that wherever the rainbow's foot rests the flowers are made much sweeter ; and Aristotle says that it breeds honey-dew. The poet Thomson tells how the rainbow appears to the swain : — - He wondering views the bright enchantment bend, Delightful, o'er the radiant fields, and runs To catch the falling glory. The old Scandinavians said that it was a bridge uniting heaven and earth. They also seem to have had a dim idea that it was a sacred symbol. All have striven to do justice to its exceeding beauty of form and colour. The Greeks and Romans gave it the name of Iris, and said that it was the messenger of heaven, beaming with joy, youth, beauty, and love. They gave the same name of Iris to the brilliant sword-lily, and to that wonderful part of the eye that gives it its colour. In the same spirit the poet Morris says — As from the storm The unearthly rainbow draws its myriad hues, And steeps the world in fairness. To us it is the messenger of heaven in a far grander sense than the ancients dreamt of; for God has made it a preacher of kindness to man, and it has heavenly things to tell us. The Jewish Rabbis said that the white in the rainbow represented God's grace ; the red His wrath; and the blue His mercy as the pillar between them. These colours do not stand apart in hostile isolation, but together form the symbol of peace. It is a memorial that God has no pleasure in the death of the sinner, but that He wishes all men to be saved. As Wendell Holmes puts it — Our midnight is Thy smile withdrawn, Our noontide is Thy gracious dawn. Our rainbow-arch Thy mercy's sign, All, save the clouds of sin, are Thine. The Gospel is no cuckoo-song or parrot's cry : it is offered to us in hundreds of attractive symbols. God here choo.ses as the sign of His covenant the object that yields the greatest delight to our eyes ; for beauty is the fitting garment of truth. He wishes everything about the Gospel to be glad, and sweet, and radiant. Hence evangelizing is the New Testa- ment word for preaching the Gospel, and that means to declare as an angel ; to angel well, or angel forth. Good news diff'uses brightness upon every person and thing connected with it. De Quincey tells that when a boy, about the time of the battle of Waterloo, he travelled in the mail- coach from London to the country. They c irried the good news of a great victory. Horses, men, can'iages, all were gay with oak-leaves, laurels, flowers, and ribbons. The guards that day wore their royal liveries, which they exposed to view, without any covering of upper coats. The hearts of all on the coach were dilated by their personal connection with 28 Ver. 12. GENESIS IX Ver. 13. the glad tidings. All reserve and social distinctions melted away in the common joy. One heart, one pride, one glory made gentle and simple, rich and poor, feel that they were all brothers and sisters. The news kindled like fire racing along a train of gun- powder. Rolling volleys of cheers ran along the highway. The beggar, forgetting his lameness, stood eri'ct, and smiled : the victory had healed him, and said to him. Be thou whole. When changing horses, De Quincey told the news to a market-woman, who threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him for very joy. A covenant is a solemn union between two ; and covenants among men and boys have their tokens. I have been reading an account of his boyhood by a friend of mine. When his home-leaving came, his bosom friend walked with him to the shore. They cut a sixpence in two, and each took the half of it. They agreed that that half sixpence would be the sign and seal of their changeless alfection, and of their hope of renewing in heaven jovs broken here. When a Christian sees a rainbow in the sky, his heart should leap up and lay hold of it as the pledge of God's faithfulness and mercy that over-arch our earth. That thing of beauty should be a joy to his heart, and a means of grace. It takes two to make a covenant, and God and you are the two. You must choose the covenant, and consent to all its terms, and bind yourself to it with right hearty goodwill, or rather, as an old preacher says, with ten thousand goodwills. You are not asked to face an impossible task, like the little boy in the story, who fancied that if he got to the foot of the rainbow he could by it climb up to heaven, and who ran on till breath failed. God's Spirit begets the yielding, consenting mood in all who pray for His aid. Blackadder, one of the Scottish martyrs, was one day, in an open-au' sermon, appealing to all his hearers to accept and close with God's Covenant of Mercy. A woman cried out, ' Hold your hand, sir, I give my consent '. Her words referred to the custom among country folks of concluding a bargain by shaking hands over it. Has your heart given its consent ? Or, to use another emblem from the flood, })ray that your soul may not be like the raven, that unclean bird, but like the deluge-dove which found in Noah's Ark the rest and home it had sought for in vain elsewhere. Perhaps we might also say that the rainbow, as it spans the weary earth with its arch of beauty, is also a token of the union of all men in Christ's holy brother- hood. The rainbow, according to the Edda, is a three-coloured bridge between heaven and earth. Shortly after Strassburg had been taken in the teiTible war between France and Germany, there arose a great storm out of which sprang a beautiful rainbow, with one foot resting on Germany and the other on France. It seemed as if God then set His bow in the clouds to rebuke the cruel strife, and also as a sign of the good time coming when men shall learn war no more. As we have one God, and one Covenant with its one token in the sky, so there should be one family over all the earth. ill. The Sun. — 'The rainbow,' one of the learned says, ' is the sun's triumph over the floods ; the glitter of his beams imprinted on the rain-cloud as a token of subjection'. The rainbow is made up of the rain- drop and the sunlight ; it is formed when the rain- drop leaves the cloud and catches the sun's rays. Hence waterfalls often have rainbows. The meeting of the spray and the sunshine creates these splendid visions. While we enjoy the rainbow on the cloud, we enjoy much more the victorious sunshine which comes to us after the floods have spe"t themselves. When the sun shines forth, the clouds with their silver edges part to let the trembling blue sky shhie through them, and soon both cloud and rainbow melt away, and leave no trace in the glorious sky, which presents to our gaze the all-conquering sun. Thus we rise in our teaching from shadow to sub- stance, from the perishing to the imperishable. While the Bible chooses for its lessons objects that appear in every age, all these objects pass away, like The rainbiiw's lovely form Evanishing- amid the storm. As the rainbow disappears in the sunshine that created it, so all Old Testament types disajjpear in Jesus Christ, from whom they came. We have thus a fuller light than Noah had. The two men carrying the bunches of Eshcol grapes are like the .saints of the Old and New Testaments : he that went before could not see the grapes so plainly as he that came after, though both felt quite sure of their existence. Thank God for your ampler light, and bathe your being in it, and so you shall grow in the life divine. The favourite objects with the Chm-ch on earth ai'e not forgotten in heaven, though in heaven they have dropped off all the stains of earth. Never on earth do you And a rainbow without its cloud, not even around our waterlalls ; but in heaven the cloud has vanished while the rainbow remains. John (Rev. iv. 3) saw a rainbow as the chief part of the regalia of Christ's thi'one, and its beauty added to the joys of heaven. There it is the token of the everlasting covenant of grace perfected in glory. O Lord, giver of grace and glory, blessed is the man that trusteth in Thee. — James Wells, Bible Object Lessons, p. 26. THE COLOURED GOSPEL ' I do set My bow in the cloud.' — Genesis ix. 13. Did you ever see three rainbows at the same time ? / have ; many people have. Some have perhaps seen more, one inside the other, and behind the other, but every one alike beautiful. Just now I want you to look, not upon three rainbows, but upon two. This is the first one, the one God speaks about when He says, ' I do set my bow in the cloud '. That is the rainbow you have often seen, the great, beauti- ful arch of silver and gold, and orange and violet. 29 Vv. 18-24. GENESIS XIV Vv. 18-24. which stretches all across the dark clouds, and yet is so light that when it rests on the flowers the flowers are not bent, and when it rests on the sea it doesn't sink down ! Do you know what that rainbow is ? It is the oldest gospel that ever was published. Before there were any books or pens or paper this was the way God took to cheer men's hearts and keep them from being afraid. When the lains came pouring down and the streams were swelling into great rivers, and the rivers grew broad like seas, and still the rain kept falling, then men might have been afraid that God was going to flood the world again, had He not made the rainbow be for a sign that He would not. And so the rainbow comes to mean hope. Do you know what hope is ? It means keejiing a brave heart ; it means believing the sun will shine to-morrow, though it doesn't shine to-day ; it means singing songs in the dark ; it means trusting Jesus about everything. When does the rainbow shine out ? Only when the rainfalls. And what does it tell us then ? Just this : that the rain isn't going to be for ever ; it will stop and things will be bright again, and we shall be glad yet in spite of our drenching ! So watch for the rainbow ; watch for it when some- thing has happened to make you sad ; watch for it when troubles seem all round about you ; watch for it when your eyes are filled with tears, for it always shines brightest then. Make friends with the rainbow all your days, for it has always a good word to speak to you from God. But now I want you to look on the other rainbow. See what it said about it in the fourth chapter of Revelation and the third verse : ' There was a rain- bow round about the throne '. That is the throne of heaven — the throne where Jesus sits. There is always a rainbow round about that. Can you understand .tII that this means ? I don't think so — not yet. You must wait awhile ; wait till you are older ; wait till the Lord does things you won't be able to understand at the time ; wait, maybe, till you are going to die yourself, or till death has taken away from you some one you love. Till then just keep this picture in mind, that there is always a rainbow round the titronc of Jesus. A rainbow on earth when the clouds are darkest, and a rainbow in heaven where there are no clouds at all — keep these both in mind and trust Jesus, and you will have a song in your heart all your days, and that is the stiongest and the best heart which has most music within it. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Pew, p. 31. OUR MELCHISEDEC Genesis xiv. 18-24 ! Psalm ex. 4 ; Hebrews vn. When a boy I was sorely puzzled with Melchisedec. I could not understand him, yet something in the name or the man drew me to him. Perhaps you feel as I then felt, and are ready to follow this lecture. Mel- chisedec is first mentioned in the fourteenth chapter of Genesis. Returning from the battle of the kings, Abraham was met by the king of Salem, whom he owns as his superior, who brought forth bread and wine, and blessed him. This strange king is lost sight of for one thousand years, till David .says of the Christ in Psalm ex., 'Thou art a priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec '. He disappears again for another thousand years, and is then fully introduced to us by Paul in the Epistle to the Hebrews. The Jews would make him Enoch, or a survivor of the flood, or Shem, or an angel, or the Holy Ghost, or Christ. But these are idle guesses. Moses gives us his history : in that historv David finds a mystery or a hidden spiritual meaning : in the Epistle to the Hebrews the veil is lifted, and the mystery is ' made manifest '. The story of Moses is the nutshell in which David tells us there is a rare kernel. Paul opens the shell and presents us with the kernel. May it be sweeter than honey to our taste. The Jews were very fond of beautiful mysteries, which awakened the sense of wonder and the desire for deeper knowledge ; and, as the Psalms and Pro- verbs show, they loved to have truth in pairs or in halves. Their minds moved, as a railway engine moves, on parallel lines and with corresponding wheels ; their piety soared as the lark soars on equal wings. As in this subject of Melchisedec, they often gained their idea of the whole truth, just as in geo- graphy you gain your idea of the whole earth by uniting the two half-spheres that are separated on the map. The mystery of Melchisedec is thus ex- plained by four pairs of truth.s. He was : — I. A Man and more. II. Priest and King. III. The Giver of Righteousness and Peace. IV. The Uniter of Jew and Gentile. And for these four reasons he was an image or type of Christ. I. He was a Man and more than a Man. — Many things about him are ' hard to be uttered ' or ex- plained (Heb. V. 11). Here, I think, is the key that opens the difficulty : there are two Melchisedecs : the one lived in Salem, and the other lives in this page. King Henry VIII., the queen-killer, was, as most people believe, a bad man ; but Froude makes him a good man. There are thus two Henrys : the one lived at Windsor, the other lives in Froude's history. What Froude did for Henry by hero-worship, Moses did for Melchisedec by omission ; but with this dif- ference, that Moses keeps to exact truth. As we have Froude's Henry and the real Henry, so we have, as we may say, the Melchisedec of Abraham and the Melchisedec of Moses. Melchisedec was 'made like unto the Son of God ' (Heb. vii. 3). He was not like Him, but was Tnade like Him. I have watched an apprentice woodcarver. Before him was a tree, like any other tree. Beside him stood a life-sized statue of Christ. Glancing now and again at the statue, and guided by his teacher, he hewed out a 30 Vv. 18-24. GENESIS XIV Vv. 18-24. piece here and there, and soon the tree became a statue. He made it more by making it less, for he thus put a grand idea into it. As that carver elevated the tree into an image of Christ, so Moses, guided by God, fashioned or rounded off the Melchi- sedec of his stoi-y into an image of Christ. It was not an after-thought, but a fore-thought to liken Christ to IMelchisedec ; for Christ is the original and Melchisedec the copy, expressly ' made ' beforehand for New Testament teaching. Paul thinks of Melchi- sedec only as he appears in the page of Moses, and speaks of him as he finds him there. \^'^hat a man of mystery that Melchisedec of Moses is ! He seems to have dropped down from heaven. Genesis is the registrar's book of the old world, narrating most exactly the pedigree, birth, and death of its heroes ; but, so far as the story goes, this man is ' without father, without mother, without descent, having neither beginning of days nor end of life ; but . . . abideth a priest continu- ally'. Our natural cm'iosity to know the particulars of so great a man's life is not gratified. He seems to be his own ancestor and his own heir ; one sprung from himself, a cause uncaused ; one ever living among the dead and dying. He stands quite apart, has not his fellow in the Bible, and is like himself only. He towers grandly above Aaron, who was a mere man ; for we know all about his birth and be- longings. Fix your eye upon this portrait drawn by the Divine hand, grasp it as it lies there, and the subject is delightfully simple. ' This Melchisedec ' on whom vou and I gaze, not that whom Abraham gazed upon ; this literary Melchisedec, not that literal one ; 'this Melchisedec ' is an image of Him who was ' without father ' as to His human nature, and ' without mother ' as to His Divine ; as God, 'having neither beginning of days nor end of life ' ; who in His office was ' without descent ' and without succession, and so ' abideth a Priest continu- ally '. Melchisedec was a man, and seems more : Jesus is a man, and is more. II. Christ is like Melchisedec, a Priest and a King. — There was only one High Priest, and he had a well-known work of his own. Man unfallen had no priest ; the angels who fell not have no priest ; but fallen man needs a priest to bring him, through forgiveness, back to God. With the sinless the priest has nothing to do, for his whole work is to take away sin. He says to each, ' Thou hast .sinned, but thou mayest be saved '. Christ is a Prophet, Priest, and King ; but His chief glory lies in His priesthood, and so the Lord says to Him, ' Thou art a Priest for ever'. Christ is before all things a Priest. What hope this gives us sinners ! Melchisedec, pi-iest of the ^lost High God, was also king of Salem, and so foreshadows Christ, who is a king-like Priest and a priest-like King. Pity be- longs to Him as Priest, and power belongs to Him as King. His priestly pity and kingly power temper and sustain each other, and as two uniting streams roll along in one full flood of communicated joy. He saves with all the power of a king ; He rules with all the gentleness of a priest. Other kings have often little touch of pity in them. Their favourite emblems of rule strike terror into their subjects. The eagle, with its murderous beak and talons, is the bird of royalty. The roaring, ravenous lion is the beast of royalty. Justice stands sternly with her scales and her sword. A bundle of rods tied like a sheaf, with the protruding axe, was carried before the Roman governor ; the rods for beating, the axe for beheading, the rebellious. But our King is our brother-man, who has the most perfect fellow-feeling with us. His kingly power enables Him to do His priestly work right royally, with royal graciousness and munificence. He saves with sovereignty, with a sovereign's generosity. The rebel Themistocles ap- pealed for pardon to the Persian king Xerxes. The king pardoned him in his sovereignty ; not as one who had to study petty economics, whose grace was a miser's hoard ; for he gave Themistocles the country of Magnesia for bread (about £12,000 a year) ; My us for condiments, and Lampsacus for wine. That is how a sovereign pardons, and illustrates one part of 'what we mean by the sovereignty of God. Our great High Priest has a royal right and a royal power to save, as He makes one thing of Priesthood and Kinghood. Your sin need not discourage you if only you take it to Him. He scorns not your evil case, for which His office exists. The best of us has work enough for Him ; for our very virtue^ have a taint of sin, our prayers need to be prayed over, and our tears of repentance need to be repented of Shall we not go over to His side by repentance and faith ? The golden sceptre of grace is ever in His hand ; and whosoever will may touch it and live, shielded by the whole power of His kingdom. What can sin, death, and hell do against those who have Him as their ally ? ill. Melchisedec is a Type of Christ because He unites Righteousness and Peace. — His name means ' king of righteousness,' and he was king of Salem, or Peace. Make sure that you understand this mighty truth. The righteousness our High Priest has to do with is held out as a free gift to the most unrighteous among us ; and it is thine for the taking. Melchisedec was king of Salem. A dense mass of meaning lies for us in this title also. Salem, like the salaam given to-day in the East, means peace. Salem is, they say, the old name for Jerusalem, which means ' the firm,' or ' establishment ' of peace. The city of our great King has its name from that which creates it and most abounds in it — Peace. Its basis is peace, its walls and bulwarks are peace, its very air is peace ; the peace of God that passeth all understanding rests as eternal sunshine upon the heads and hearts of all its citizens. As a strong light in a house shines out upon all its avenues, ' the abundance of peace ' so fills our Jerusalem as to over- flow the suburbs even unto the utmost bounds of the neighbouring hills. So David sings of God's 31 Ver. 13. GENESIS XVI Ver. 13. King and city, 'The mountains shall bring peace to the people, and the little hills by righteousness ' (Ps. Lxxn. 3), just as our Highland hills bring forth heather, just as our cornfields are covered with corn from hedge to hedge. And it is peace ' by righteous- ness,' such as Melchisedec images forth. A King of Peace ! Earth's kings are war-makers ; ours is a Peacemaker. Earth's great cities have often been Aceldamas, steaming fields of blood ; our mother-city is peace. And what a union of contraries is here ! Let the bare idea of God's righteousness enter the heart of a man in sin, and lo ! his peace is gone, and he is the prey of remorse. But Christ brings us a peace founded upon eternal righteousness. Hail, thou King of Righteousness ; all hail, thou King of Peace. Thou unitest a greater mitre than Aaron's to a greater crown than David's. ' Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ.' We grasp Thy cross, and bow before Thy sceptre. IV. Melchisedec is a Type of Christ, because he Unites Jew and Qentile. — Aaron, the priest, was only for the Jews ; but Melchisedec, who was out of Aaron's line and above it, was a Gentile, and he was a priest for Abraham the Jew, and for the Gentiles dwelling in Salem. He was a world-wide priest, opening his arms to all the races of humankind, and his city was meant to be the mother-city of all the earth, emblem of the heavenly Jerusalem into which people of all nations shall be gathered. Thus Christ is a priest, not after the order of Aaron, who was for Jews onlv, but he is ' a Priest for ever after tlie order of Melchisedec ' ; and any sinner under heaven may receive the blessings He brings. He unites Jew and Gentile, He unites all men in one holy brotherhood. About a hundred years ago, a Welsh boy heard a sermon upon the priesthood of Jesus Christ. It was a new idea to the boy, filling him with astonishment and delight. The doctrine was so excellent and sweet to him, that without delay he opened his heart to it. To this day all the Welsh revere his memory, for that boy became the Rev. Thomas Charles of Bala, the ajiostle of his native land, the founder of day and Sabbath schools, and of the Bible Society. And such a faith in Christ will give you too a true and fruitful life. If you do not understand all the outs and ins of this subject, you know at least that you are a sinner, and that Jesus Christ is our only Priest and King. Turn then to Him with a wonder- ing, grateful heart. He offei-s to be your Priest and King. Dare you, can you, would you turn away from Him ? — James Wells, Bible Images, p. 89. EVER IN GOD'S SIGHT 'Thou God seest me.' — Genesis xvi. 13. The loving Apostle John speaks to us much about our sin, and I think it requires one who is very loving to talk to us wisely about sin ; for God is love, and God it is Who feels most deeply the pain and the shame of sin. One thing that John says is, ' If we say we have no sin we deceive ourselves '. And as all de- ceivers are sooner or later found out, men who say they are not sinnei-s, and perhaps fancy themselves rather good, must sooner or later find their own de- ception out. A fact, delightful beyond the power of words to tell, is the fact that we cannot hide anything what- ever from God. And all the world will live, like Adam, to be heartilv glad that it can neither hide itself nor its sin from God. Now let me show you by a story what a good thing it is to be seen by God. I have read of a man crossing the sea who was fond of sitting on a certain pleasant but unsafe part of the ship. The sailors had almost forbidden him the place, and had fully warned him of its danger ; but he continued to have his own way. At length there was heard a loud thud and splash from that part of the ship, and a cry rang from stem to stem, ' A man overboard ! a man overboard ! ' All on deck starting to their feet, rushed to the place where the splash was heard, to behold in the foaming wake of the ship a man struggling for his life. 'The engineer stopped his engines, the sailors rushed to a boat which hung at the ship's side, loosened its ropes, threw themselves into it, and, al- most quicker than it takes to tell, lowered it to the water and bent their oars to their strongest stiain ; for not a second was to be lost. Swiftly they made their way towards the unfortunate man, whom the ship by this time had left a long way behind. Mean- while, having tlii'own himself upon his back, he was now fioating on the water. When the boat at length reached him, strong arms stretched out to grasp him, and in a moment he was lifted over the gunwale into the boat. The man was saved. Now, what I want you to notice is that the men who saved him were the very sailors who had warned him. You cannot suppose a man in such position as that man in the water trying to hide himself away from sight : he would onlv be too thankful to be seen. But suppose that when he fell overboard it had happened to be night, with no moon, ard not a star to shed a guiding ray — then he would not have been seen, the darkness would have hidden him, and the men anxious to save him could not have found him. So, alter a little struggling, he must have sunk down into the sea and have been drowned. To have been hidden would have been a dre.idtui thing for him. But if sinners could hide from God that would be a still more dreadful thing to them. So let us be glad there is no chance whatever of such a danger. All the secrets of our hearts are open to God, and darkness and light are both alike to Him. It so happened that in that foolish man's accident the very best men to see it were just the men whose warnings he had not heeded, and whose express wishes he had so often disobeyed. Those men might have said, ' Oh, let him alone ; it's his own fault. We warned him.' And that would have been true ; but their counsels and warnings were more than merely true, they were kind, and the same kind hearts that first prompted their lips to spe.ik counsels and wam- 32 Ver. 13. GENESIS XVI Ver. 13. ings, next prompted their feet to run to the boats, and their arms to strain at the oars on their mission to save. Now, God's warnings and counsels about sin are not only true, they are also kind ; and the very same kindness which prompts Him to plead with us not to be hanl-hearted and untruthful, pr selfish, or im- pure, when we have neglected His pleadings, and by self-will and disobedience have brought the soul into danger, promjits Him to run to rescue us. The first work of His love is to warn against sin ; the next is to seek and to save from its deadly effects. — Benjamin Waugh, Sunday Evenings with My Children, p. 107. THE ALL-SEEING EYE ' Thou God seest me.' — Genesis xvi. 13. I AM going to take as the subject of this address one of the best-known words in the Bible. I suppose there is scarcely one among all my young readers who has not learned it, and could not at this moment repeat it. It is not for children alone. It is not peculiarly a ' child's text '. We all need it, and would be the better for bearing it constantly in mind. In- deed, it is the want of believing and rememberin;; and acting upon it, that lies at the root of almost all the evil that is in the world. When children begin to make their first letters, printing them in large capitals, on a stray slip of paper, or in a book provided for the purpose, the text I refer to is one which they very often take. I have seen it in one and another of these Sunday Albums, as they are sometimes called, some of the letters very strange-looking — the E's turned the wrong way, and so on. I dare say some of you can go back to a memorable Sabbath afternoon or evening when you printed the words without help from any one, except in so far as you took a look at the book or card from which you copied them to make sure that all was right. I know of one such book, in which a little boy thus traced his first written words. It was the first and last text in his Sunday text-book. All the rest is blank. It was not many hours till, in a terrible railway accident, the hand that wrote it was cold in death.' You will find the text in Genesis xvi. 13 : 'Thou God seest me '. The person who first spoke these words was an Egyptian slave woman. Her name was Hagar. Her master was Abraham, and her mistress Sarah. Sarah dealt hardly with her maid, and the poor woman ran away. She fled towards her old Egyptian home, and ' ' The Sabbath evening' before they died, George wag em- ployed in printing the first characters his hand liad ever traced. Freddy had said it was quite time now lie ihould begin, and tlieir nurse had given them the book for it. " Let me choose your first text," said Freddy, "and mama will get you the copy." Thou God seest me — is the only entry in its blank pages. Could a more suitable one have been put into the lips of the child, even had Freddy foreseen the sud- den transition his little brother wa-s in a few days to make, with no eye but that of God ^e^ti ig on him?' — The Way Home, by Mrs. Barbour. you might have seen the runaway, sad and weary, sitting by a fountain of water in the wilderness be- ween Palestine and Egypt, not knowing what to do. She was there when the Lord Jesus (the ' Angel of the Lord ') appeared to her, asking her whence she came and wiiere she was going, telling her to retiun to her mistress and submit to her, and giving her great pro- mises for the future. She had thought she was alone — that nobody saw or knew or cared anything about her — that it did not matter what she did, or what became of her — whether she should live or die. Per- haps she was saying to herself, as some other foolish people do — ' I wish I were dead ! ' And when she found that the Lord saw and cared for her, in wonder and gratitude and love — just like others of whom we read in Scripture— she gave Him who had appeared to her and spoken to her a name of her own— she called Him El-rbi, the God of Seeing. She said, ' Thou (art) the God of Seeing ' — or ' Thou God seest me ! ' and she gave the well or fountain by which she sat a name which it bore from that time, in memory of the great event — Beer-lahairoi, which means ' the Fountain of the Living who beholds me '. Now I would like you to remember this — that these well-known words were first used by a poor, desolate, runaway slave, who did not know where to go or what to do, and had none to befriend her but God. He followed her with His loving Eye, and guided her with His loving Hand, and made her the mother of a great nation, which exists to this day. And she spoke the words thankfully and joyfully, ' Thou God seest me '. He was to her ever after— though she sometimes forgot the word and the name — El-rbi or the God of Seeing. And what I wish to impress on you is, that God sees you — sees you to-day, as He saw Hagar that day ; sees you wherever you are and whatever you are doing. Sometimes the remembrance of this will encourage and comfort you ; sometimes it will alarm you. Anyway it is true, it is always true. God sees you ! Many do not believe this. There are times when we all forget it. And it is just in proportion as we believe and remember and act upon it that it can be well with any of us. I. God sees your heaet — what you are. Others do not see your heart ; they cannot. They can only see what is outward. They may guess what is within from what they see without, but that is all they can do. They may be deceived. They may be mistaken. You cannot see the heart of so small a thing as an apple. It looks well. It has a beautiful skin. It is rosy-cheeked, and most inviting to any one who cares about apples. But the moment the knife goes in it tells a diffeient thing — it is rotten within. You cannot see the heart of so small a thing as a watch. It has a gold or silver case, and a beautiful dial, and hands such as good watches have, and you may pay a large sum of money for it ; and yet its inside, which is the real watch, may be all defective and wrong. Now your heart determines what you are. 'As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.' You may 33 3 Ver. 13. GENESIS XVI Ver. 13. now and then do a thing that seems very good ; but it is your onotive and aim that decide whether it is good or not. What led you to do it ? It is what you think, and feel, and wish, and piirpose, that marks out what you really are. And I dare say you are sometimes thankful enough that nobody can see that ; things are often outwardly so good, and yet so bad within. Now, do you believe this, that God knows your heart, sees you through and thi'ough — that He sees your heart as distinctly as others see your face — -that all that is passing in your mind is as open to Him as if you spoke it out, or wrote it, or acted it — and that is always so ? ' All things are naked and opened unto the eyes of Him with whom we have to do,' so that as regards all that is within, each of you can say, ' Thou God seest me ! ' What does it matter that man does not see, if God sees ? Your heart lies all uncovered before God ! H. God sees your life — what you do. Much of what is outward, as well as all that is within, is un- seen and unknown by others. Many things are done secretly. We would not wish others to see them. We would not do them if others saw us. If even one eye saw us, we would not. Which of us could bear the idea of his whole life being known and seen by any one, even though that one was his nearest and dearest friend ? I have been in institutions in which a large number of young people are being educated. Looking from the governor's room into the common hall where they work and play and get their meals is a window that commands the whole. He had scarcely to rise from his chair in order to see all that was going on. And they knew it. Every now and then vou might see an eye turned to the window, especially if there was anything questionable or wrong going on. And sure enough there was the face at the window — all was seen by the governor ! And yet even in such a case, where there is the sharpest look-out, it is pos- sible to elude observation ; things are done which no one sees, which everybody denies, and sometimes it is impossible to find out who has been the wrongdoer. But God sees all. Nothing escapes His obsei-va- tion. He slumbers not nor sleeps. The most secret thing that any one can do lies open to Him. Every word, though spoken in a whisper. He hears. Every act, however hidden. His eve looks right down upon. In London and other large cities there are places where young people are trained to steal. These be- come so expert at their evil trade that they could pick your pocket without your knowing it, though you were watching all the time. But theie can be nothing of that kind with God. ' For Mine eyes,' He says, 'are upon all their ways ; they are not hid from My face, neither is their iniquity hid from Mine eyes' (Jer. XVI. 17). 'Mine eyes are open upon all the ways of the sons of men' (Jer. xxxii. 19). 'Neither is there any creature that is not manifest in His sight ' (Heb. IV. 13). ' Doth not He see my ways, and count all my steps ? ' (Job xxxl 4) . ' For His eyes are upon the ways of man, and He seeth all his goings ' (Job. XXXIV. 21). HI. God sees you in the dark. It is wonderful what an idea most people have of darkness as cover- ing and hiding things. If any evil thing is to be done, anything that one would be ashamed of, that will not bear the light of day, the thought arises or is suggested by othere, ' Wait till night : wait till it is dark '. And then the way seems open. If there is to be any theft, any keeping of bad company, any going to forbidden places, any walking with forbidden people, any doing of wrong things, night and dark- ness seem necessary to cover it. I suppose there is no one who would feel the same restraint, the same difficulty in doing certain things in the dark that he would in broad daylight. Even in doing right things that require some courage in the doing of them we see this. When Nicodemus was anxious about his soul, and wanted to see Jesus, he had not courage to go to Him during the day, but waited till it was dark, and then stole away to Him. ' The same came to Jesus by night ' as perhaps some of us have done. Now, we need to be reminded that however it may be with men, darkness makes no difference to God. He sees in the dark, just as in the light ; so that, so far as He is concerned — and it is mainly with Him we have to do — it is of no use waiting till night, till it is dark. Hear what He says to Ezekiel regarding those who had this notion then : ' Hast thou seen what the ancients of the house of Isreal do in the dark ? ... for they say, the Lord seeth us not ' (Ezek. via. 12). But then, as Hagar put it. He is ' the God of Seeing,' and the darkness is not even as the thinnest veil to Him. ' If I say, surely the darkness shall cover me ; even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from Thee, but the night shineth as the day ; the darkness and the light are both alike to Thee ' (Ps. cxxxix. 11, 12). There is no darkness nor shadow of death where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves ' (Job. xxxiv. 22). And as if to bring it out more clearly and unmistak- ably. He says, ' I will search Jerusalem as with candles ' (Zeph. i. 12). ' His eyes are as a flame of fire ' (Rev. i. 14 ; Dan. x. 6). IV. God sees you in the crowd. When one wishes not to be seen, he likes to get into a crowd. We speak of being ' lost in the crowd '. Amid thou- sands of people it is difficult to follow any one person with the eye, even where you wish, especially if he seeks to get out of your sight. If he is alone, he says, ' I have no chance. I cannot but be seen.' But if there are others on all sides of him, then he feels protected. It makes all the difference when there are many for feeling as if we were unobserved. If one of you were asked to go up to the platform, from the other end of a large and crowded church or hall, you might say, ' I have not courage for that : every eye would be upon me '. But if twenty were asked to go, there would be no difficulty then. If it were a holiday in the city, and the streets were to be Ver. 13. GENESIS XVI Ver. 13. crowded with thousands from town and country, you might speak of being ' buried out of sight ' among the multitude. But here, too, it is otherwise with God than it is with men. Just as darkness makes no difference, so numbers make none. Each indivfckial out of ten thousand stands out as distinctly as if there were but the one. You remember how it was with the woman with the issue of blood, who touched the hem of Christ's garment and was healed. Jesus said, ' Who touched Me ? ' Peter, who should have known better, said, 'The multitude throng Thee and press Thee, and how savest Thou, ^Vho touched Me ? ' ' But,' it is added, ' the woman saw that she could not be hid.' ' He telleth the number of the stars. He caileth them all by their names.' ' Not a sparrow falleth on the ground without your Father.' 'The very hairs of vour head are all numbered.' If you were among a hundred or a thousand others, it would be all one as if there were none but yourself ' Thou God seest ' — not us — but ' me '. V. God sees you when alone. A strange feeling of being unobserved, so as to be at liberty to do any- thing, comes over one when he is alone. There is such a sense of solitude that, so far as any one else is concerned, it seems to matter little what one does. I know what terrible temptations some have hiid in this way. To be letl alone with oneself is far more dangerous for some than to be suiTounded by the most skilful of tempters. Many have found their way to prison and to ruin just through being leit alone. They felt there was no control, they fancied there was no danger of detection, and throwing off all re- straint, they plunged into sin. I was once asked by a master to speak to a young servant who had stolen a number of articles when the family were from home. I asked her how it was. She said that when she was alone in the house a strange feeling came over her that she could do any- thing she liked, and she fell before the temptation. But when one is most alone, in the most out of the way place, in the remotest corner of the earth — God sees. Gehazi, the prophet's .servant, thought he was all unobserved when he hurried after Naaman, the Syrian, after he was healed, and by a lying device got money from him, which he stowed away securely, and then presented himself before his master. How he must have been startled when Elisha said, ' Went not m.ine heart with thee ? ' ' And so God says, ' Can any hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him ? ' Will you seek to remember this when you are alone. You may be tempted to take what does not belong to you — to do what you would not do if the eye even of a child were upon you. Don't, I pray you. I wish I could whisper into your ear, ' God sees you ! His eye is on you I ' It would break the spell — it would burst the chain. Here is a young chimney-sweeper at his work. He ' See 2 Kings v. 20-27. has come down the wrong chimney, and when he comes out at the fireplace, he finds himself in a hand- some library, where a gold watch lies on the table. It seems within his reach ; there is nobody to see ; his fingers tingle for it. It is the critical moment of his life. It will decide whether he is to be made a man of, or to leave that house a criminal. What shall help him? What .shall save him? Suddenly he sees above the chimney-piece the words, ' Thou God seest me,' and the power of the temptation is broken. VI. God sees you everywhere. ' The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good ' (Prov. XV. 3). ' The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth' (Chron. xvi. 9). ' Do not I fill heaven and earth, saith the Lord ' (Jer. XXIII. 24). ' Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit ? or whither shall T flee from Thy presence ? If I ascend up into heaven. Thou ai-t there : if I make my bed in hell, behold Thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the utter- most parts of the sea ; even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me.' There is no place where God cannot see you. Nothing can screen you from His gaze. ' Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.' They thought themselves secure. But it was not long ere the voice was heard, ' Adam where art thou ? What is this that thou hast done ? ' When at Kingston, in Canada, some years ago, I visited the state prison there. The prisoners were employed in connection with several public works be- yond the confines of the prison. I was struck with their peculiar dress. A hne in front and behind divided their clothes — cap and jacket and trousers — into two distinct parts, so that one side was of one colour and the other side of another. The conse- quence was, that the men were known wherever they went, and if one of them had run off, he would have been recognised everywhere. And just as certainly are we mai-ked out to the eye of God wherever we are. There is no escaping from that Eye. VII. God sees you always. There is no moment when He does not see you — night or day — waking or sleeping — alone or in company. You cannot count on a single second in which He is not looking down upon you. It is told of Linnasus, the famous natur- alist, that he was greatly impressed with this thought, and that it told on his conversation, his writings, and his conduct. He felt the importance of this so much that he wrote over the door of his study the Latin words : ' Innocui vivite ; Numen adest ' : ' Live in- nocently : God is here '. We might well have these words before us everywhere. I wish our text were inscribed on the walls of every school — of every nursery or bedroom where a child is, so that every day it might meet the eye, and thus the mind be familiarised with it. It might be well to have it in large illuminated letters — sewed, or printed, or painted, or carved ; and when the children go from home, they might take it 35 Ver. 16. GENESIS XIX Ver. 16. with them. — J. H. Wilson, Tke King's Message, p. 55. LINQERINQ LOT 'He ling^ed.' — Genesis xix. i6. A GHEAT many hundred years ago, and a. great many hundred miles away fi'om this, two men stood one day looking on a lovely plain, full of rich pasture and dotted here and there with thriving towns. The men were uncle and nephew. They were both wealthy, and had dwelt together for some time. As, however, the number of their flocks and herds greatly increased, disputes arose between some of their men who were engaged in watching and guarding their herds. This was very unpleasant ; for you know when disputes arise between servants, each would naturally tell his own master that he was in the right imd the other man's servants in the wrong ; and so the masters them- selves would soon get mixed up in their differences. This uncle and nephew were great friends, and so they thought it would be better to separate than to quarrel. Then one day the uncle, who was Abraham, said to his nephew, whose name was Lot, I will 'give you your choice of which part of the land you would wish to dwell in. You choose your own part, and then I will choose mine.' This was very generous and noble conduct of the older man to give his younger nephew the first choice. We often can see a good deal of a man's character from the first choice which he makes in life — his selection of where he would like to live, and what companions he cares to have. Well, what choice did I,ot make ? He looked from the rising ground on which they were standing, and saw the great plain through which the river Jordan flowed, looking very rich and pros- perous. Valleys generally are more fertile than the high ground ; so this valley was a striking contrast to the barren hills of Bethel on which they stood Lot made his choice of that rich and lovely plain, and he set up his tent there, close to the city of Sodom. Now, was that a good choice ? Was that a right way to select the place where he and his children would pass their lives ? Well, there is no reason whatever why, if a man has a choice, he should not prefer a rich country to a poor one, and a place where he would be likely to prosper to a place where he would probably grow. poor. But where Lot went wrong was that the only thing he thought about was the wealth which his living in this country might bring him. There are some very important words in the story which immediately follows the statement of Lot's choice. It says, ' The men of Sodom were wicked, and sinners be- fore the Lord exceedingly '. Now, do you think that Lot did know that ? Of course he did ; and he .should have said to himself, 'The land looks very rich, and I may become still more prosperous in worldly goods if I live there, but I shall be taking my wife and my children and my hundreds of servants all into a very sinful place ; and while our bodies prosper, our souls will be in danger, so I will not go '. But Lot lingered over the loveliness and fruitfulness of the valley ; and no doubt he thought that though the people in the towns were sinners exceedingly, there were a great m-jny of them, and they would buy and pay well for all the corn and oil and cattle which he would sell them, so probably he would be all the better off in the end ; and as to the people being very sinful — well, he would take care not to join in their .sin, and surely a man may be a good man even with a number of heathen people all around him. Lot soon found out what a dangerous thing it is to choose sinful friends for our companions. One day some neighbouring kings came down with their armies, and in th(; valley of Siddim they fought all the kings of these Cities of the Plain. The vice and luxury in which these soldiers and people on the plain had lived did the work which luxury and vice always do — they made the people soft and weak and cowardly ; and so, in the shock of battle, they were crushed and routed by the hardier and manlier men from the mountains, and Lot and all his family, and all his goods, were carried off by the victorious foe. Then his uncle Abraham, with his gallant followers — who had not been weakened or corrupted by dwelling in a rich valley, and in the midst of a wicked and luxurious population — came to the rescue, and he delivered his nephew Lot, and brought him and his family and his flock back safely from the bondage into which they had been taken. That was a warn- ing to Lot God always sends some warning to His people when they are going to the bad. Lot does not seem to have taken the warning. Lot lingered there still. What a sad story all this is of ' lingering Lot '. At last the wickedness of all the cities down in the plain became so great that the Lord said, ' I must purify them. I must bum up all the sin and iniquity in them, or it may spread over all the surrounding nations and destroy them.' Fire is the great means by which things are purified. If you take a piece of gold ore, and want to get the pure gold out of it, you put it in a furnace, and the fierce heat burns up all the dross, and lets the gold run out bright and clean. So with fire the Cities of the Plain were to be made clean. Before, however, the fire should descend. Lot and his family were to be warned to leave the city. The reason why God spared Lot is very touching. We are told that ' when God destroyed the Cities of the Plain, that God remembered ' — whotn ? Lot ? No. ' God re- membered Abraham, and sent Lot out of the midst of the overthi'ow.' Abraham was Lot's good angel. While Lot was living in the midst of prosperity, and not thinking of any coming danger, good Abraham had been praying for him ; and God remembered Abraham, and spared Lot. Oh ! hoys and girls, as you grow up, and are, perhaps, very careless and thoughtless, and sometimes very sinful, you little think of all the blessing and salvation which may come to you because God remembers some father, mother, pastor who has prayed for you — prayed for you with tears, and entreaty, and a love that you 36 V'er. 16. GENESIS XIX Ver. 20. will understand only when you come to be father or mother, or perhaps pastor, yourself. God remembers thtm, and spares you. The story hastens now to its awful close. The people are going on just like hundreds of people in London to-day — very happy in their prosperity, in their rejoicing, and in their sin. The sky seems clear ; thev think nothing of that dark black cloud gather- ing in the horizon, which is soon to burst in such a storm of destruction over the city. Messengers came to warn Lot and his family to depart. But sin has been doing its deadly work, and Lot is reluctant to go. ' Lot lingered.' In spite of himself he was made to depart — only just in time. His wife lingfred too long ; and as the lightnings poured in torrents of fire on the city, and the hurricane swept the flakes of flame and the embers of the burning cities acro-s the plain, they reached her, burnt her to white a^hes in a moment, and what had been a few minutes before a living, thinking, human being, stood there like a pillar of white salt in the plain — an awful warning to ages afterwards of the danger of lingering too long over sin. Lot himself barely escaped. A purely worldly choice at the beginning, a neglected warnng, a narrow escape from a frightful destruction, a sad and weary and disgraced old age — that is the history of lingering Lot. Tiie story teaches its own lasson — the danger of lingering in thought or deed with evil. Never linger. If a thing is right, do it ; if it is vTong, leave it. Never linger in your thoughts over any sin, however pleasant it looks. Flee from it at once. Lingering in thought on sin will soon lead to your loving it. Never linger over any temptation, no matter what promises of safety it seems to hold out to you. Re- sist it at once It is far easier to resist always than to do so only occasionally. The best motto you can leai II for life from this sad history of lingering Lot is that one brave word ' Resist '. I read a story about this word ' Resist ' which may help you to remember it. A gi-eat tower, called the Tower of Constance, rises up from the fortifications which are on the shores of the Mediterranean, on the south coast of France. In the reign of Louis XIV. a number of Protestant women were imprisoned in this tower becau.se they would not renounce their faith to please the king. There is in this building one gloomy, dark chamber where these poor brave women passed many years of their life ; and there a noble woman, Marie Duran, whose only crime was that her brother was a Protestant pasteur, cut deep into the hard stone of the pavement, with some rude instrument or scrap of iron, this one word — Resist. She spent forty years in that prison, and we are told that ' her gieat consolation was in carving this word for any one who should come hereafter to read it there '. May God Himself write that word deep on the warm, fresh, loving young hearts that are here to- day— Resist. — T. Teignmouth Shore, Saint Oeorge far England, p. 61. LITTLE THINGS ' Is it not a little one ? ' — ^Genesis xix. 2o. I. Little Steps make Long Journeys. — Expect it was not first time Lot had said that — perhaps the secret of his ruin. Genesis xiil 11, ' Dont like leaving Abraham, but it can't much matter'. 12, ' Best to pitch tent with door oyiening away from Sodom, but after all more cheerful this way, and it makes such a little difference '. ' Surely you won't go any nearer.' ' May as well live inside the city ; it is but a small change after all.' So little bv little, step by step, from wealth, prosperity, friendship with Abraham, to ruin, and a cave to cower in (xix. 30). [Cf Eve — looked, listened, longed, touched, took, tasted.] Man may walk thousand miles, but he has to do it step by step. Each step small enough, but if in the wrong direction where will many small steps lead to ? II. Little Seeds yield Great Harvests. — Little tilings not only add up, they grow and multiply. Something like what Isaiah says (lx. 22), and true of bad things as well as good ones. [Seed on palm of hand — mere speck — no conse- quence ' there '. Brush it off. Twenty years later. ' What is this ? ' 'A tree.' ' However came it here ? ' ' You planted it when you swept aside that seed.'] Ever thought of this : We are always sowing seeds. 1. Thoughts. — Come to us, like seed blown by the wind — need not keep them, but may, if think them over, ponder on them, that is sowing them in mind. Then they will grow. (a) Good thoughts. — [Coming after Jesus was a thought once in the mind of Andrew. If he had not sown it Simon might never have been Peter. Peter's work and writings the fruit in part of that seed.] [Once no Sunday schools in England. Show how they grew from a thought] (6) Bad thoughts. — Seen already — Lot, Eve. Trace growth of Rebecca's thought, 'I ')niist have that blessing for my boy '. 2. Words. — These are thoughts sown outside of us, in minds of other people it may be. May treat as under last head (1) Good words. [God's made the world ; Christ's have been saving men ever since they were spoken ; or take somo simple anecdote of power of a good word.] (2) Bad words. [Illustrate in a similar way.] Cf Matthew xii. 36, 37. 3. Actions. — Rather a bigger kind of words. [All seeds not same size, though all small.] As before may take good and bad.. The harvest from a small bad action may be illustrated thus : Boy inattentive in class, plays, example makes the rest fidgety. Teacher disturbed and woiTied. When he gets back home, cross, makes family uncomfort- able. Go to church, inattentive, distract attention of othei-s. Perhaps fifty people disturbed two hours later by the ripple of discomfort that boy set going. V'v. 16, 17. GENESIS XXI Ver. 17. So see how important these small things — small steps, long journeys ; small seeds, great harvests ; and we are always doing little things. What care then we ought to take ! [Fancy if in powder magazine, and like a cat with sparks coming out all over you, what a fright you would be in, what care you would take !] ' Is it not a little one ? ' Yes ; but what sized thing will come of it ? Best safeguard is to pray. Say, ' Lord, I can't help always doing little things, taking little steps, sowing little seeds. Show me how to walk. Teach me how to sow. Only if Thou take care of me can I keep from doing harm ! ' — C. A. Goodhart, Hints and Outlines for Children's Services, p. 114. BIBLE LADS Genesis xxi. i5, 17. There are several bright little lads mentioned in Scripture whose experience and service may guide and help the boys and girls who read thi.s. They hold, as it were, a lamp with a shining light across the path of all who are Ibllowing in their footsteps. The Holy Spirit has introduced these interesting lads, no doubt, to teach us a few clear lessons of prayer, obedience, blessing, activity, and service. I. We first meet a Suffering Lad in Genesis xxi. 16, 17, who shows us the value of Prayer. ' And God heard the voice of the lad ' . . . ' and God was with the lad.' He cried in his suffering and distress, and the Lord heard him. ' Crying ' is the natural way for a child to make known its needs to its father, whilst ' Praying ' is the cry of our souls to our Heavenly Father. The Lord always hears us (Ps. XXXIV. 6). II. The Submissive Lad comes next, in Genesis XXII. 5, with Obedience as his motto. ' And I and the lad will go yonder, and worship, and come again to you.' The secret of Isaac's happy, peaceful life was his willing obedience to God. Isaac was an example of obedience. 'They went both of them together,' a lesson of loving submission, ' and laid him on the altar ' ; a light to the Lord Jesus, ' God will provide Himself a lamb '. III. Now let us notice the Saving Lad, in Genesis XLiii. 8, who is a Blessing. Little Benjamin was the centre of interest, the link of bles.sing, and the bond of union. No corn, nor happiness, nor hope, without him. In these parti- culars Benjamin is a })icture of the Lord Jesus, and a lielp to every boy. Every true Christian is a link of blessing to others. IV. The Selected Lad, in 1 Samuel xx. 36, teaches us the value of Activity. ' And he said unto his lad. Run and find out now the arrows.' This willing, active lad did a great work in Israel that day. He was a signal of warning to David, ' Is not the arrow beyond thee ? ' a smart servant for Jonathan, ' Make speed, haste, stay not ' ; and a saviour of a king and a kingdom, even though he knew it not (verse 39). Every Christian boy should be active for Jesus, and always ready to help and be kind to othere. V. There is one more, the Serving Lad, in John VI. 9. Service is his lesson to us. There were three things which fitted this lad for service. He was following Jesus. He was in the right place — close to Jesus. He had five loaves and two fishes. He had the right things — grace and gifts. He was found willing to lend them to Jesus. He had the right spirit — a willing heart. These are the qualifications needed for the Lord's service. We must be near, prepared, and willing. ' Who will be the next to follow Jesus ? ' This lad would have delighted John Wesley, whose advice is : ' Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. To all the people you can. In all the ways you can. In all places you can. As long as ever you can.' When Count Zinzendorf was a little bov at school he founded a small Guild amongst his schoolfellows, which he called the 'Order of the Grain of Mustard- seed,' and thereafter that seedling grew into the great brotherhood, now known by the name of Moravians, who have proved such a blessing to the world. — C. Edwards, Tin Tacks for Tiny Folks, p. 31. INFANT VOICES IN PRAYER ' And God heard the voice of the lad.' — Genesis xxi. 17. If you had lived four thousand years ago, or thei'e- abouts, you might have gone down one day to a vei-y dreary place, where it was all hot sand, and only some scrubby bushes, not far from a place called ' Beer-sheba '. And if you had gone down to that wretched place, you would have seen a sad sight. You would have seen a poor woman. Her master had turned her out of his tent ; he had given her a little bread and a pitcher of water, and the poor woman had gone a little way, until all the water was gone. It would almost have made you cry to see her ; she was so thirsty, she looked so faint, so weak. And she lifted up her voice, and cried aloud. And if you had gone a little farther, about as far as you could shoot an arrow, you would have seen another very bad sight indeed. Thei'e was a boy, he was lying under one of those shrubs, and he was worse off than his mother, poor boy — he had no water. He was almost dying. And while his poor mother was crying out with all her might, this boy did the best thing he could do — he prayed to Gixl. And God heard him. And God sent down an angel, and the angel came to his mother, and the angel said, ' Don't leave your boy there '. She had put liim under a bush, because she could not bear to see him die ; she could not endure his cries, so she put him away out of her hearing. But the angel said, ' Don't leave him there. Go, and take him up ; carry him in your arms '. God said, ' I will take care of him. He shall be a great man by and by.' And the angel said, ' Look there ! ' (She could not see it before.) 'There is a well of water close to you.' And she 38 Ver. 17. GENESIS XXI Ver. 17. saw the well, and she went and filled her pitcher with water, and saved her son, saved it to drink, and they became quite happy. What was the name of that woman ? ' Hajjar.' What was the name of that boy ? ' Ishmael.' God heard that little boy under the shrub. He saved himself and his mother by his prayei-s. Dear boy ! Does God hear the prayers of boys and girls ? Does He not ? Somebody said (I don't suppose it's quite true, but it teaches something that is quite true) that God was once listening to an archangel singing, and God said, ' Archangel, stop ! There's a little child praying on earth ; let Me hear him.' I believe God would as soon hear a little child as an archangel. AVhen a good and great man, Melanchthon, was once going to difficult business, and was in great trouble, he heard some children praying, and he said, ' Be of good cheer, brother, the great ones are praying for us ! ' I want this afternoon to talk to you about boys' and girls' prayers — your prayers. There is one thing often said I do not like — do you ? A person says to you, ' Say your prayers '. I do not like that expression. It is like a person saying a lesson. Players are not a lesson. I do not ' say my prayers '. I advise you never to use that expression, ' saying prayers '. Say pray — ■' I pray ' ; not, ' I say my prayers ' ; not, ' Have you said your prayers ? ' but, ' Have you prayed ? ' Let us not talk about ' saying prayers,' like a lesson, or like a parrot, but let us think about praying — a different thing altogether. When you read the Bible, God speaks to you ; and when you pray, you speak to God. One is the echo of the other. There must be an echo. If you do not read your Bible, I do not think you will pray properly; but if you read your Bible, and God speaks to you, then it is true prayer when you speak to God. What is praying ? A minister once said to a boy, ' Can you pray ? How did you pray ? ' He said, ' Sir, / begged '. He could not have used a better word, ' / begged '. Praying is begging of God. You know what a beggar does. He says, ' Oh, do — do give me something ! ' He goes on saying it. ' You have given me something once ; give me something again.' That is a very good argument, which a beggar often makes use of. There was a wom,an who had been a heathen in New Zealand. She had learnt to pray ; somebody said to her, ' Woman, how do you pray ? ' And she replied, ' I lay myself down flat ujion a promise, and look up. Do you understand ? I have got a promise underneath me. Then I look up.' That is prayer. I will tell you what prayer is verv much like. It is like a bow. Do you see how. What is the arrow ? A promise. What is the string ? Faith. What is the hand pulling the string ? You. You use your faith ; with your faith you send a promise up to the skies. David said, ' I will make my prayer and look up,' look up and see where the arrow comes down again. It will come down somewhere. That is prayer — sending up the ai-row. Use your bow. Now I am going to speak about a little baby's prayer, a little tiny child's prayers ; then I .shall speak about big boys' and girls' prayers. Supposing a very little tiny boy or girl, just able to talk — what is the nicest way for that little baby to pray, though only just able to speak ? To kneel at his mother's lap. Oh, it is such a pretty sight. And if the mother cannot hear the child, or the father, then why should not the elder brother or elder sister ? they will do very nicely ; only the little baby must kneel in somebody's lap, and then the little baby kneeling down must have something to say ; it can- not, perhaps, think much for itself — it may a little. I will tell you what I should put into a little baby's prayer — what I mean. A little baby once said, ' Keep me from fire ; keep me from robbers ; keep me from naughty boys. Amen.' I heard it. Another little baby once said, ' Jesus, kiss me ! ' That was his prayer. Would you like that ? That was a little baby's prayer. I think it would be better if an elder boy or girl, or if father or mother would tell the little baby something to say. A very little child, when going to bed at night, should be taught something like this : teach it to say, ' O God ! I thank Thee for this happy day. O God, forgive me for being naughty ! O God, take care of me to-night. O God, bless father, mother, brothers, and sisters, for Jesus Christ's sake.' That would be quite long enough, perhaps too long. That is the way I think every little child can pray. There is nobody in this church who cannot pray that prayer. You must think of something to say, or else father, mother, brother, or sister must help you, tell you what to pray. And now I will speak to you about big boys and gii'ls like most of you — how you should pray. Will you attend, please, to what I wish to say about your prayers, when you are going to bed. I do not much care whether you say your prayers before you undress or after you have undressed, just before you get into bed ; I am not sure which is best. When you pray in the morning, I would cei-tainly advise you to dress before you pray. Say your prayers when you have dressed. I should advise you always to kneel down. I hope nobody in this church ever says their prayers in bed ! It is so disrespectful to God, and so lazy a thing ; I do not think God would listen to them. It is a very wrong thing to say prayers in bed ! Kneel down ; always kneel. 1 will give you a little hint. I would advise you, so far as you can, always to say your prayers in the same spot of your bedroom, by the side of your bed, or by a little chair or table. Don't think it will spoil your trousers. I have known boys care more about their trousers than they care for God. Kneel down. Then, when you have knelt down, let me give you one or two bits of advice — not what to say; I am not going to presume to tell you what to say, you must think for yourself — but just a 39 Ver. 17. GENESIS XXI Ver. 17. little advice as to prayer. Remember you are always to pray to God the Father, through Jesus Christ, the Son, for God the Holy Ghost. Every prayer ought to be something like that — to the Father, through the Son, for the Spirit. There are a great many things to think of in prayer. Let me tell you of one or two. You should always first address God by one of His names or titles in a very reverent way. Then, you knovv, you have different things to do. You have to thank God for your mercies ; you have to confess to God your sins ; you have to trust God to bless you ; you have to ask (whatever you like to ask) Him to do all for vou ; you have to ask for other people — always put intercession into your prayer ; then, to end all, ' For Jesus Chi-ist's sake.' Is^ever leave that out. It would almost spoil the prayer if you left that out. Now, that you may do all this, that you may have all the right parts of prayer, the right divisions, you must always tune the instrument before you play. I am told when the Shah of Persia was in England and was attending one of the great concerts in London, in the Albert Hall, he was asked what part he liked the best, and he said ' he liked best all that tuning of the instruments before the concert began '. That was very bad taste of him to say, ' I think all the noise of the tuning of the instruments the best part' ; but he said so. I am sure God likes to hear the instruments tuned ; the mind brought into a right state ; to be thinking, ' I am going into the presence of God ; I am a poor sinner ! What have I done ? What have I to thank Him for ? What do I want ? ' Then tell God anything you like ; anything in the world, only take cai-e you ask it all in the name of Jesus — because we have no promise to prayer that God will hear us unless we add the name of Jesus to it. I will just tell you what I heard about the name of Jesus. A clergyman was sent for to see a poor woman who was very unhappy, very miserable. And the clergyman said to her, ' Why have you sent for me ? What do you want me for ? ' She said, ' Oh ! sir, I am so unhappy, quite miserable about my sins. I am very wretched '. The clergyman said, ' Is that all ? Why, you are only telling me about yourself. Have you nothing else to tell me ? ' She said, ' No, sir '. Then the minister said, ' Say Jesus '. And the woman said, ' Jesus ! ' And he said, ' That won't do. Say it again.' And again she .said, ' Jesus I ' ju.st as before. The clergyman again said, ' That won't do, you must say it with all your heart, as if you felt it. Say heartily, "Jesus!" say it with all your heart.' And she did, and from that moment she got peace, only from the name of ' Jesus ! ' saying it heartily. This is a true story, and it only shows the power of the name of Jestis ! — that beautiful name, that blessed Name I Never let there be a prayer without it. There is the power of prayer. But I know very well how difficult a thing it is to pray. I want to talk to you about your difficulties in prayer. One difficulty is to know what to say, to get right thoughts. I heard of two ministers who were praying at a prayer meeting. They were kneel- ing together, and one of the ministers, in the middle of his prayer, stopped, and whispered to the other minister, ' I don't know what to say '. The other minister said, ' Tell God that. Tell Him you don't know what to .say '. He told God, and God gave Him something to say at once. If you have not thoughts in prayer, tell God that, and perhaps He will give you thoughts. You may say, ' Perhaps I have thoughts, but I have no words '. That makes me speak to you about something else. I think every boy and girl ought to have a form of prayer, though they need not al ways use it. I look upon it as if you were almcst a lame man ; you can walk a little, if so, 'tis very good to have a pair of crutches. Use your crutches when you want them. If you do not want vour crutches, do not use them. The best way is to say what you think at the time when you are praying in your own room ; but if you find you have not words, it is a very good thing to have a book of prayer, or something you have learnt to say. Have a form of prayer. If any one has a prayer to use, he will not want the crutch ; it is better without it. A Psalm is some- times very good. There are no prayers in the world like the prayers in our Prayer Book. You can use those. I think you will find the more you practise, the more you will have to say out of your heart. Then, I will tell you another great thing. Did you ever find, when you kneel in prayer, and mean to pray quite right, that your thoughts are gone off, I don't know where, but where you think about some- thing quite different — wandering thoughts ? Do you find that ? I do. They are great troubles. Abraham once knew what this was. He was offering up a sacrifice, and, while he was doing so, the birds came flying down on the altar, and took away the meat — spoilt the sacrifice. I think those little thoughts, those foolish thoughts, those wandering thoughts, are like those birds. We must drive away those little birds ; we must not have them, or they will spoil the sacrifice. If your thoughts are wandering from you, ask God to keep off the wandering thoughts, and if they don't go away, get up from your knees, and feel, ' I have knelt down and said a prayer, but I have not felt it '. Kneel down, and pray it again. I knew a good man who said that very often he had not said the Lord's Prayer right till he had said it seven times. Don't be heaten. If the enemy will put wandering thoughts into your mind to stop your praying, pray on, pray on I Then perhaps he'll give it up. That is the best thing to do. Now, when you are saying your prayers alwa>s recollect that there is One who is offering that prayer for you to God. That prayer does not go to God just as you send it up ; but before it gets to the throne of God it gets much sweeter. There is something mixed with it, if you ai-e a Christian boy or girl. Somebody says, ' When we bring our poor nosegays 40 Ver. 17. GENESIS XXI Ver. 19. to Jesus, He takes out all the weeds, and gives God only the flowers '. If I wanted to ask anything of the Queen, if I could get the Prince of Wales to offer my letter to the Queen, or put my petition before the Quetn, I should think, though the Queen might not receive me, yet if the Prince of Wales asked for me, I should get what I wanted. We have got somebody better than the Prince of Wales, the Son of the King of kings, who has pro- mised to offer to His Father everything we ask Him. He puts His sweet incense into our prayer. So God will be pleased with us for His sake. Always think that .Jesus is presenting your prayer for you. But there is another thing about prayer. When are we to pray ? When — when ? Morning and night ; also at midday. It is a very nice thing to pray in the middle of the day. If you can, go up into your room, then, and have a little prayer; it will be a great help. But I say, pray always. How is that to be done ? Can you kneel down in the middle of the road or street, and pray ? A Mohammedan would not be ashamed to do so. But we all. should be ashamed to pray anywhere, though a Mohammedan would not. But vou can pray in your heart, though you do not kneel down. Little prayers in your heart can always be going up ; nothing can stop that. You can do that anywhere. We call those ejaculatory prayers. That is a hard word ; it means ' little darts '. I love these little darts. If you have never tried them, try those little darts out of your heart : say, ' Lord, I liave done wrong ! ' ' O God, forgive me ! ' These little darts, ejaculations, can be sent up anywhere, at any time. Do vou know how you breathe ? Now, try ; draw a breath ; take a long breath. You take in the air, and then you send it out again. That is breathing. And praying is in the same way. When you pray, take in the mercies ; and when you have got them, breathe out the praise. Prayer, praise. You Ccinnot live without your lungs. If you do not iiray, you cannot live spiritually — your soul can- not exist. Prayer is breathing in ; praise is breathing out. You must breathe. I should like to tell you of two remarkable answers to praver, which I heard of, in boys. But I do not think I will tell you both now — you will be too tu'ed ; but I will tell you one, and the other another time. The first answer to the prayer of a little boy that I will tell you of was that of a very pious boy, who loved God, and loved prayer ; and he had a sister who did not. His sister never read the Bible ; he did, and loved it. There was a prayer-meeting connected with his church, and the little boy said to his minister, ' Please, sir, would you mind, at the next prayer-meeting, saying that there is a little boy who wishes very much that his sister would read the Bible ? Would you be kind enough to pray for my sister, that she may begin to love her Bible ? ' The minister said, 'Of course, we shall be most happy to do so '. So at the next meeting the little Iwy was there, and the minister prayed for his sister (he did not mention her name), that .she might begin to read her Bible. And when the minister had prayed the prayer, the little boy got up to go out. Tlie minister said, ' Sit still. It is not right to move in the midst of the prayer-meeting. Sit still, or you will disturb the people ! ' The little boy said, ' I must go, sir. I want to go and see my little sister read the first chapter in the Bible she has ever read in all her life 1 ' And he went, and he found that the praver had been already answered, for his sister was reading the Bible when he got home. I will tell you the other story another time. Do you know ? — when the missionaries went out to New Zealand, .some of the New Zealanders became Christians, and began to pray. They could not well pray in their homes, because they would be disturbed, and perhaps killed ; so they used to go out into the woods, and say their prayers there. Each one had his particular spot in the woods where he prayed. In the middle of the wood they trod down the gi-ass in several places, and if any man neglected to go to prayer, the grass grew on the neglected spot ; so they got to say one to another, when this happened, these Christian New Zealanders, ' Brother, the grass is growing in your path '. That meant, ' You have not been to the praying-place'. Do you think I have got to say that to anybody in this church this afternoon ? — 'My dear boy, the grass is growing in your path. My dear girl, the gi-ass is growing in your path. You have not used your knees much ! You have not prayed much lately. You have not prayed aright.' Is it so ? What does conscience say ? Is ' the grass growing in your path ' ? In the Yellow Country, what do you think is the name of prayer ? ' The gift of the knees.' Is not that beautiful ? ' O God, give us all that — the gift of the knees 1 ' Perhaps somebody will say, ' I cannot pray'. It is a gift! Ask God for it — 'the gift of the knees '. ' O God, give us all thk gift of the KNEES ! ' — J. Vaughan, Sermons to Children (5th Series), p. 105. THE HIDDEN WELL Genesis xxi. ig. Bible stories remind me of two exhibitions which greatly delighted uie when I was a boy. One was ' Gosmorama,' which means 'View of the World'. You went into a dark gallery, and through large windows you beheld pictures, so well painted that they looked like reality. One window showed you Paris ; another Rome ; a third, a Swiss village with snow-peaked mountains ; a fourth, the bank of a great American river, and so on. The other exhibition was called 'Camera Obsciira,' which means 'Dark Chamber'. You went into a dark room, and on a sort of glass table you beheld a moving coloured picture of the scenery outside. The trees waved, the clouds floated across the sky, the people moved about, some remaining awhile in the picture, then slowly 41 Ver. 19. GENESIS XXI Ver. 19. departing ; others quickly crossing it and vanishing. It was a living picture. Now, only imagine how delightful it would be, if there were a wonderful window through which we could look not only into distant countries, but into distant times ; and see moving about before our eyes the people who lived and died thousands of years ago, when this dear country of ours was not yet named ' England,' and was mostly a wilderness of forests, moors, and marshes ! Well, the Bible stories may be likened to such a wonderful Cosmorama and Camera in one ; only we have to look at the pictures they set before us not with our bodily eyes but with our mind's eyes. And what is best of all, these liis- tories tell us not only what the people they speak of did and said, but what they thought; and what God thought of them, and said to them. Come now with me ; open your ' mind's eyes,' and let us look through this wonderful window into the past. What do we see ? The Picture. — We see a wide desolate wildei'ness, on which the blazing sunshine is poured down as if the sky were a vast furnace. Mountains meet our eye whichever way we look ; some near, some far away. Long wavy lines of mountain on the horizon, silvery grey or pale purple. In nearer view, towering cliffs and rugged jjeaks of bare rock, and awful precipices, strangely coloured with dull crimson, orange, and violet. The level ground in front in some places shows grass parched with the sun ; in others shingle or rock, hard and hot as if bakeol in an oven. Here and there is a tree, or a cluster of bushes. In the distance you may see one or two groves of lofty palms. Near them are flocks of gazelles feeding. Troops of wild asses gallop past, rejoicing in their desert freedom. Nowhere can you espy a hut or tent, road or bridge, hedge or fence. There is no token of human presence, save only two lonely travellers, moving wearily and uncertainly as if they had lost their way. One of them is a dark- skinned, black-haired woman, with great dark eyes, thickish lips, a proud, handsome, sorrowful face, having an empty kid-skin, such as Arabs use to carry water, slung across her shoulders. The other is a strong-limbed, keen-eyed, noble-looking lad of about sixteen, who totters as if ready to faint. Their lips are dry and cracked, their tongues so parched they can scarcely speak. Their skin feels as if it would peel off; their heads as if they would burst. Every- thing around them — rocks, bushes, mountains — all seem swimming in a bath of heat. The water is all spent in their bottle ; not a drop kit ; and they know that if they cannot find water they must die. Strong as the lad is, he has to lean on his mother's arm. She is more used to the desert than he, and better able to bear the torturing thirst. She guides the lad's unsteady steps to a bush which casts a shoi't shadow, lays him down there, almost as if he were a baby again ; and then goes and sits down under another bush, ' a good way off, as it were a bowshot ; for she said " Let me not see the death of the child " '. She bursts into a loud passion of weeping, utterly heart-broken. It seems to her that all the world has turned against her ; God seems to have forgotten her, and forgotten His promises ; and she and her darling son, whom she was so proud of, are thrust out to die. Did you ever see a sadder picture ? A true one, remember. There was a day, an hour, a moment, when all this was ' now ' ; and the thousands of years that have since rolled away had not yet begun. The Mystery. — It is as strange as sad. Not that there would be anything strange in two traveller losing their way and dying of thirst in those pathless Arabian deserts. Alas ! that has but too often happened. It would happen much oftener, but that when people have to travel through the desert, they join in companies, and have guides who know where the wells and springs of water are to be found. How, then, came this mother and son to be wander- ing thus, without guide or helper ? Here comes the strange, mysterious part of the story. Even a poor man would not like to send away one he cared for on a journey across that wild desert without an experi- enced guide, well armed against robbers, and a camel, or at least an ass, to cai'ry food and water. No one but a cruel, wicked man would desire that even his enemies should die so dreadful a death as perishing of thirst in the wilderness. Yet the pei-son who has sent these two wanderers foith from the plentv and safety and comfort which until now they have always enjoyed is one of the richest men in the whole country, and the best and most pious man in the whole world ; Abraham, called for his piety, the Friend of God ! The woman is Hagar, Abraham's wife ; and the lad is Abraham's son, Ishmael. Abraham could easily have spared a few camels and asses, laden with abundant provision ; and half a dozen strong, trusty shepherds, to have guided Hagar and her boy safe across the desert to her native land of Egypt. Yet they were turned out alone, on foot, with just as much bread and water as they could carry ; and having lost their way (as it was likely they would do), they had no prospect but to die, with no eye to pity them, and leave their bodies to be speedily devoured by vultures and hyaenas. Strangest of all, this was by God's own command ! The Bible says 'the thing was very grievous in Abraham's sight, because of his son'. Well it might be. Perhaps it was the greatest trial of his life, except the one crowning trial, twenty yeai^s or more afterwards, when God told him to sacrifice his darling Isaac. But Abraham knew that God must have wise reasons for what He commanded, and that his part was to obey, mystery or no mystery. So he rose up early in the morning, and did just as God told him ; and then left the matter in God's hand. He knew that God had promised to bless Ishmael, and to make him the ancestor of twelve princes and of a gi-eat nation. He knew also that, come what might, God's promise could not be broken. It seemed hard, very 42 Ver. 19. GENESIS XXI Ver. 19. hard, for Hagar and Ishmael to be driven out, almost like beggars, from amidst all the wealth which Abraham's camp contained. It was very mysterious. But God so ordered it ; and that was enough. God must have His own good reasons, as He always has, though neither Abraham nor Hagar nor Ishmael could understand what those reasons were. God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform ; He plants His footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. Blind unbelief is sure to err. And scan His work in vain : God is His own interpreter, And He will make it plain. How it Came About. — Let us go back in the story for a few years, and see how it all came about. In those old times a custom had grown up (as in Mohammedan countries at the present day) for a man to have more wives than one. It was not pleasing to God, and usually turned out very unhappily ; but still the law did not forbid it. For many years Abraham had but one wife, Sarah ; but as they had no child, Sai-ah at length gave Hagar, an Egyptian bondmaid, or slave, to be a second wife ; not at all intending Hagar to be equal with her.self, but thinking that if Hagar had a son, she (that is Sarah) would reckon him as her own boy. So it turned out. God gave Hagar a son, of whom she was not a little proud ; and Sarah adopted him as her own. Abraham also loved him tenderly ; and called his name Ishmael, which means ' God will hear '. Almost the same name, you see, as Samuel ; which means ' heard by God '. Until he was about fourteen years old, Ishmael was Abraham's only son. A great pet, I dare say, he was among Abraham's many shepherds and other servants and their children. As he pla3'ed with them among the tents, or in the pastures where the flocks and herds were feeding, and by the brooks and wells where the shepherds led them to watering, he would make the other boys obey him, and do what he chose ; and they would say to him, ' You are our little chief, our master's son'. 'Some day,' he used to think, ' when my father grows very old and dies, all this camp and these servants and herds and flocks will be mine ! ' So I am afraid he grew proud, selfish, and self-willed. It is very dangerous for any of us, young or old, but especially while we are young, to have our own way in everything. And therefore it is often much safer to be poor than to be rich. At length God gave Sarah a son of her own, as He had promised, whom Abraham named ' Isaac,' which means ' he shall laugh ' ; because there was such great joy at his birth. Not joy for Ishmael, however, for now he found this little baby set above him, and learned that Isaac, not he, would be heir of Abraham's wealth. It would have been very brave and noble of Ishmael, and very pleasing in God's sight, if he had loved his little brother, notwithstand- ing his disappointment, and said, ' Never mind ; if God appoints it so it must be all right ; and my father will still care for me, though I am not to have his wealth '. Do you think you could have been so noble and gentle and self-denying if you had been in Ishmael's place ? There were not wanting, I dare say, those who were foolish and wicked enough to stir up and en- courage Ishmael's [)roud and envious feelings ; and to tease and provoke him by saying, ' You are nobody now : this new little baby will be lord of all ; and nobody will care for you ! ' Poor Ishmael ! I pity him. It is always difficult enough to do right, and to keep down envious evil temper ; and if you hearken to bad or foolish companions, it grows ten times moi e difficult. But, you know, right is right, and wrong is wrong, for all that. The harder you find it to do right, and to conquer your own temper, the more earnestly you must ask God's help. The sharper the conflict, the nobler the victory. ' He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty ; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.' Ishmael, I fear, did not try to rule his spirit. St. Paul says he ' persecuted ' poor little Isaac ; an in- nocent little baby, who knew no reason why his brother should hate him. The story in Genesis says that when Abraham made a feast in honour of his little son, at that time between two and three years old, Sarah saw Ishmael ' mocking ' : not in good- humoured play, but in bitter anger, turning the whole thing into ridicule, forgetting all the respect due to his father; all that was generous, kind, or dutiful. Sarah took alarm. She saw that it would never do to let the two boys grow up together. Ishmael never would be happy ; and by and by there might be a fierce quarrel, with consequences too dreadful to think of. Abraham was deeply giieved. He took his trouble in prayer to God, according to his custom. Then came this strange mysterious command : he must send away Ishmael and his mother from their home, with two or three days' provision of bread and water, to journey alone through the wild terrible wilderness. And now we come back to where we left them : Ishmael lying on the ground under the shrub, a little refreshed with the rest and shade; and his mother at a distance under another bush, weeping, heart-broken, too much in despair even to pray. Ishmael's Prayer. — In this dreadful danger, what was Ishmael to do ? Just what Hagar should have done. Just what you and I ought to do in every danger, trouble, or difficulty. He prayed. ' God heard the voice of the lad.' The Bible does not say that God heard Hagar's voice, though she ' lifted up her voice and wept '. Why does it say, twice over, that God heard the voice of Ishmael ? Of course, God hears everything. Every word you speak — every kind, gentle, helpful word ; every cross, unjust, foolish word — God hears, however softly spoken. But when the Bible speaks of God hearing the voice of any one, it means, attending to and answering prayer. Ishmael's voice was too faint to reach his mother's ear, but God heard it. Ishmael had been 43 Ver. 19. GENESIS XXI Ver. 19. taught to pray ; for God said of Abraham, ' 1 know him, that he will command his children and his house- hold after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord '. But you may well believe Ishmael had never pi'ayed before as he piayed then. Perhaps he said, ' Let me try if my name, ' ' Ishmael," speaks true. Will God hear ? ' Did he deserve to be heard ? He could not think so. His own misconduct had brought him and his mother into this frightful trouble ; and that was the worst of it. What may we suppose his prayer like, if we could have heard it? Perhaps something like this : — ' O Lord God of my father Abraham ! Have pity on me. Have pity on my poor mother. I have been foolish and wicked. It is all my fault. But Thou art my father Abraham's God. He is Thy friend, and I am his son, though I have been an undutiful son. O Lord, for my father's sake have mercy on us. We are dying of thir>t. O God, have mercy on us, and send us some water that my mother may not die ! ' Very likely good old Abraham, far away in his tent, with aching heart, was praying too for his poor wanderers. But it tells us nothing about that. ' God heard the voice of the lad. And the angel of God called to Hagar out of heaven, and said unto her. What aileth thee, Hagar ? Fear not ; for God hath heard the voice of the lad where he is. Ai'ise, lift up the lad, and hold him in thine hand, for I will make him a great nation. And God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water ; and she went and filled the bottle with water, and gave the lad drink.' How quickly the answer came ; and how easily ! God often keeps His children waiting long for answers to prayer ; but that is only when it is best for them to wait. The well was there all the time ; near at hand, full of refreshing water. But it was hidden. Hagar, blinded with her tears, could not see it till ' God opened her eyes ' ; that is, helped her to see it. Do vou ask. How? Perhaps she suddenly noticed that in one spot the grass was greener than in the parched ground elsewhere, showing that water lurked there in some deep hiding-place. Perhaps she saw footprints in the sand, of men and of flocks, which she had not noticed before, and these pointed to the hidden well. Perhaps some block of stone, half hidden in sand, which before seemed only like the other bits of rock strewn about, suddenly looked to her as if it could be moved ; and she found it the cover of the well. Arab shepherds are accustomed to cover their wells carefully, and hide them, if they can, from passers-by. But no one can hide what God chooses to make plain ; and there is no eye-salve like prayer. God did not need to work a mu-acle to answer Ishmael's prayer. He only needed to enable Hagar to see what was already provided. In a few minutes all their trouble was over. As they drank, and drank again, new life seemed to flow through all their veins. Soon they were strong enough to journey, rejoicing in this great deliverance, which told them that God had not forgotten them ; and encouraged them to trust Him for all time to come. ' God was with the lad,' the Bible tells us. Ishmael grew up brave and strong and free, in the wild desert, where his descendants dwell to this day. Often, per- haps, in after yeai's, he may have passed the hidden well, and stopj)ed to drink of it, remembering the lesson he had there learned of faith in his father's God. It is pleasant to know that more than seventy years afterwards, when Abraham died, Ishmael and Isaac (not even then very old men, as men's ages were then reckoned) met as brothers and mourned together by their father's grave. A Dip Into the Well. — Truth, the proverb says, lies in a well ; and in this hidden well which Ishmael's prayer uncovered, lies many a true lesson, if only we have the right sort of pitcher to dip and draw. First of all : how came the well to be there, just where and when it was wanted ? The Arab shepherds who dug it never meant it for wandering travellers, but for their own flocks. Hagar and Ishmael, when they lost their way and wandered on in despair, did not know that every weary step, every miserable moment, was leading them to the water for which they were thireting. God meant that well for them, and guided their feet towards it. He led them by a way they knew not. He kept the well hidden until the deliverance could come in answer to prayer. Then, in a moment. He opened Hagar's eyes, and behold ! there was the well close at hand. Life is full of hidden wells : stored up blessings, ready at the right moment to supply the answer to prayer. Many a weary broken-hearted wanderer who has missed his way in life — many a busy traveller along the hot dusty highways of the world, passes close by a well of living water, and sees it not. Why ? Because he does not pray. ' Ye have not because ye ask not.' Often, too, when we do pray, the answer comes so quickly and naturally, that we are tempted to say, ' I need not have prayed ! ' Never say that. Never think it. God foresees our prayers as well as our necessities. Our Heavenly Father knoweth what things we have need of, before we ask Him. But he says, ' Ask, and ye shall receive '. And as the light of the Pole-star which meets the traveller's eye and guides his steps, started on its swift journey thousands of yeai-s ago ; so if need were, God would have prepared thousands of years ago the answer to even a child's prayer, rather than break His promise. Another truth we draw from Ishmael's well is this : our encouragement to pray is not our own goodness, but God's. Ishmael's trouble was of his own making. He could not fancy that he deserved to be heard. But he knew that the Lord had spared his cousin Lot in answer to Abraham's prayer, and would even have spared Sodom if there had been ten good men in it : surely then He would spare Abraham's own son. How much stronger is our en- couragement to pray, who can plead not the name of Abraham, or any earthly parent or friend, but the name of Jesus, God's own dear Son ! ' He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for 44 Ver. 19. GENESIS XXL, XXIV Ver 27. us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things ? ' What a little thiny; a draught of cold water is ! But to one dving of thirst it is the most precious thini;- in the world. All the gold and jewels on earth would be despised in comparison. Learn from this not to tliink little things of no importance, or to suppose that God thinks so ; and not to be afraid (as some people are) to pray to God about little things as well as great. I will give you two reasons which prove that God does not disdain to attend to little things: First, l)ecause He has made many more little things than great, and has made the greatest things to depend on the least. ^Vorlds are made up of atoms ; forests spring from acorns, and harvests fi-om grains of seed. Events which change the history of the world may grow out of one little thought in one poor man's mind. Little duties, little sins, little joys, little troubles, make up mo^t of our daily life. Therefore ' in EVEEY THncG ... let your requests be made known unto God ' (Phil. iv. 6). Secondly, God is so great, that the difference between what we call ' great ' and ' little ' is to Him as nothing ; and He is so wise that nothing — not a thought or an atom — is small enough to escape His eye. To Him is nothinej S'rpat, is nothing small : He guides the comet's course. He marks the sparrow's fall. Is there in your heart any secret trouble, or wish, or temptation, which you do not like to tell even to your dearest friend ? Tell it to your Heavenly Father. Tell it to the Lord Jesus. The Eye that saw Ishmael fainting under the bush reads your heart. The Ear that was open to his prayer is open to yours. God will not, indeed, grant requests which are either wrong, hurtful, or foolish. But it is ours to pray ; it is His to judge if it be wise and right to give what we ask ; and if not, we must trust to Him to do better for us than we can either ask or think. Prayer is itself a hidden well : a secret source of joy and strength and wisdom, not only in times of trouble, but always. Trouble is a hard teacher, though its lessons are precious. Do not wait for it to drive you to prayer; but say like the Psalm- ist, ' O God, thou art my God : early will I seek thee '. Sinful pleasures are compared in Scripture to ' broken cisterns that can hold no water '. God calls Himself ' the Fountain of living waters '. Earthly treasures and joys at the best are perish- able : like wells that dry up and leave the thirsty traveller to die. ' Whosoever drinketh of this water,' says the Saviour, ' shall thirst again : but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst ; but the watee that i shall GIVE HIM SHALL BE IN HIM A WELL OF WATER, Sjn'inging up into everlasting life'. — G. R. Condeb, Drops and Rocks, p. 25. HOME COMING ' I being in the way, the Lord led me to the house of my master's brethren.' — Genesis xxiv. 27. 'As for me, the Lord hath led me in the way to.' — R.V. Wheee did this man want to go ? To ' the house of his master's brethren '. Then he had a Master! We all have. No one is his own master. There are two great masters, Jesus and Satan. Can we serve both ? No ; for they work ag dnst one another ; the one pulls up what the other plants, and plants what the other pulls up, and no one can serve two ma.sters whose ways are so contrary. Which is your master ? If it isn't Jesus, it must be Satan. You are never your own master, never ! What kind of Master is Jesus ? He is the good Master. You remember a young man once running to Him and saying, ' Good Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life ? ' There is another name for good Master. It is Lord. Lord is short for ' Good Master '. What do you think the word I.,ord meant at first ? It meant the ' giver of bread ' — the one who was generous and kind to the poor. Isn't that what Jesus is? He gives bread, does He not? It is called the Bread of Life ; that is the soul's food. Which Master will you serve? Satan or Jesus ? A master you must have ; oh, let it be Jesus ! This Master has many brothers. ' I being in the way, the Lord led me to the house of my Master's brethren.' A rich little boy was boasting one day to a poor little boy about his great relatives, and said at last, ' My uncle is a lord '. ' So is my Brother,' said the poor boy. 'Your brother a lord!' said the other scornfully ; ' pray, what is he called ? ' ' He is called the Lord Jesus,' was the answer. Yes ; Jesus is the Brother of every one who has the same spirit, the same heart, that He has. You can be His brother, or His sister ; and oh ! is it not grand to think that our elder Brother is the King of earth and heaven ? These brothers of Jesus have a house. 'The Lord led me to the house of my master's brethi-en.' Where is that house ? It is the church. Every church is a house of the Master's brethren, and if you are in the Lord's way, you will most surely be led there very often. Yes, but they do not stay there always. There is another, a greater house and a finer one, into which they are led by and by. It is like this : When people are invited to go to the palace and be pre- sented to the queen, they come up from all parts of the country and from beyond the seas ; but they do not go straight to the palace. No ; they first take up their abode in some house in the city, and there they wait till the day comes when they are to be presented to the queen, and then they leave the house they stayed in for the time, and go into the palace and see the queen. It is the same with the Master's brethren — with the Lord's brothers ; they wait first in the earthly house of God, and then, when the time conies, one 45 Ver. 27. GENESIS XXIV., XXXi Ver. 49. after another is called to go and see the King, ;md the King is Jesus ! They find, as Joseph's brothers found, that He is their very own Brother who has all the power ! How beautiful His house is ! Why, the sky is only the pasture ground outside the garden walls, and there the wind drives the white clouds before him for a flock ! The stars are only the golden sands on the shore of the great calm lake that is called Space ; and sometimes when there is what we down here call a storm, it acts like an earthquake up above, and makes great cracks in the pasture ground, and then we see the light that is on the other side, great streaks of brightest light, and wise men call it light- ning, but even wise men don't know everything ! No ; they don't know that these are only cracks letting through the light that is beyond ! No ; they don't know that ! Ah ! who can tell how beautiful that house is ? If you had a beautiful statue, and could put life into it, wouldn't that make ib more beautiful still ? And if you saw a beautiful face, and could put love into it, wouldn't that make it more beautiful yet ? Yes ; and the grandest house you ever saw or dreamt of, if you could put Jesus into it, wouldn't that make it grander still? Well, that is just what makes the house in heaven so beautiful ; it is because Jesus Himself is always there. The smallest child in heaven is never lonely, for its Brother is always with it. How did this man the text speaks of get to the house of his master's brethren ? It was hy putting himself in the way. ' I being in the way.' That is the great thing, to get into the way. If I want to find out the road that leads to a distant place, I look up the map, and make inquiries as to whether there is a ferry at this river or a bridge at that, and so try to find out all I can about the road. But does that bring me any nearer to the place I want to go to ? No ; I am j ust as far from it as ever. There is but one way I ever can get there, and that is by putting myself on the road and going forward. It is the same with the way to the Master's house on high. The Bible is the map, and it shows us all we need to learn about the way ; but we must do some- thing more than study the map, we must go on the way ourselves. What is the way ? It is doing what the Bible tells us ; it is loving Jesus, and trusting Jesus, and doing things for His sake. It is trying to look on things as Jesus would look on them, and trying to do things as Jesus would do them. That is ffettino- on the way. The way to Jesus is trying to be like Jesus. But how did this man keep the way ? You know many get on the right road at the first, but afterwards) when they come to cross-roads, and roads that lead But of roads, they often go astray. How did this man keep the right way ? Because the Lord led him ! ' I being in the way, the Lord led me.' Yes ; and when we are on the way to the house of the Master's brethren, the Lord Himself goes with us, and leads us. We may not see Him, but He sees us. How does He lead us ? Oh, in a thousand different fashions ! When you do wrong, isn't there something inside you that tells you you have done wrong ? That is the Lord trying to lead you right. It is the Lord who whispers in your heart sometimes, saying, ' Don't do that ! ' or, ' Don't go there, it is wrong ! ' or, ' Do this ! ' or, ' Go there, that is right ! ' He is then leading you. And so this man got to the house of his Master's brethren, and so will you, by putting yourself in the way — the way of love to Jesus, the way of trusting Him and praying to Him. Do this, and the Lord will lead you step by step, till He brings you to the house of many mansions. — J. Reid Howatt, The Ghurchette, p. 53. THE ALL-SEEING EYE ' The Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent one from another.' — Genesis xxxi. 49. These words were said long ago by Jacob, when he and his uncle Laban were going to part from each other, after they had been together for many years. Jesus says, ' Where two or three are gathered to- gether in My Name, there am I in the midst of them '. So however far distant we may be from each other in the body, our souls will be joined together in prayer, and in God's sight will be close together, with Him in the midst listening to our prayers for one another. God is always present with us, wherever we are, ' Am I a God at hand, saith the Lord, and not a God afar off? Can any hide himself in secret places, that I shall not see him ? saith the Lord. Do not I fill heaven and earth ? ' These words show us how impossible it is for us ever to escape from God, or to do anything that He cannot see and know all about. Just as the air fills every place in the world, and as the sea fills all the deep bed God has made for it, so God fills all heaven and earth, and ' In Him we live and move and have our being '. You might run away from the home, you might go away from this part of the world to another, you might go all round the world, and you will go out of the world, one day ; but wherever you go, you must take yourself with you. And as God is everywhere, it is as impossible for you to escape from God as to escape from your own presence. Let us think about God's all-seeing eye which follows us everywhere, and from which we can never escape. I remember when I was at school at Lowestoft, there was a large card hanging on the wall of the schoolroom, with all the texts in the Bible which speak of God seeing us written on it, as a warning to us not to do anything we should be ashamed for God. to see ; and the text in the middle of all was ' The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good '. 46 Ver. 49. GENESIS XXXI Ver. 49. When I was travelling in Belgium once, I saw a figure of Our Lord's head in the Cathedral at Antwerp, which was made in such a way that, which- ever direction anyone walked the eyes followed, and one coukl not escape from them. They seemed to be watching as though they belonged to a living person. It ought to be a great happiness to you to know that God is always watching you, for He sees every effort you make to please Him, and is none the less pleased because others may not see it ; ' The eyes of the Lortl are over the righteous, and His ears are open unto their prayers '. God not only sees every effort His children make to please Him, but He is always ready to listen to their pravers, for prayer is the Voice of the Soul speaking to God. When we are trying to follow in the Saviour's steps, and we tell God how difficult it is, and ask Him to help us, He is always ready to listen to us. He is far more ready to listen to our prayers than, I am afraid, we often are to pray. And when we are a long way from each other, God will see us, and will listen to the prayers we send up to Him for each other. God has also promised to guide us with His eye. He says, ' I will instruct thee, and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go. I will guide thee with Mine eye.' He will be our Good Shepherd, and watch us all through our journey from this world to the next ; and when He sees us going astray. He will speak to us through our Conscience, and warn usof our danger, so that we may return to the narrow way which leads to life. ^Vhat a good thing it is that God sees us ! For He is able to warn us when He sees us straying into the broad way which leads to destruction. As I have told you before, we are only ' strangers and pilgrims ' in this world ; we are on a journey to heaven, which is our home. God is close to every one of us at all times, and can help people all over the world at the same time. A soldier dying on the battle-field in South Africa can feel that God is with him, and die in peace ; while at the same time God is with you here, and will also be watching over me somewhere else. So you see, wherever we go, God is with us, and can see us. Some years ago a sad accident happened in a coal mine in Wales. An immense quantity of water flooded it. It was after most of the men had left their work ; but down in a very deep part of the pit were four men and a boy. It seemed to them that this must be their grave, for although they were not reached by the water, there were many tons of earth and coal shutting them in, away from the light of day and the fresh air. Some of the other men deter- mined to rescue them. They knew it would be many davs before they could reach them, and they might starve or suffocate, or they might be drowned by the water coming in. But they all loved God, and they knew God was with them in that pit, so they were not afraid at the thought of d)ang ; and they prayed and sang hymns, until they were too weak to speak from want of food. But God never forgets His servants when they are in trouble, and He watched over them all the time they were buried in that pit, and He listened to their prayers, ' For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and His ears are open unto their prayers ' ; and after they had been buried for nine davs, God let their rescuers find them. How anxious all their friends must have been feel- ing about them, wondering whether they would ever see them again ; but God had been watching over them while they were absent from one another, and at last restored them to each other. But we must remember that the eyes of the Lord behold the evil as well as the good, and that ought to warn us not to do anything that we should not like God to see. 'The face of the Lord is against them that do evil.' It is no more possible for us to escape from God than to escape from ourselves. But nevertheless people have tried to hide from God. Adam and Eve tried to hide from God. He had told them they might eat the fruit of all the trees in the Garden of Eden, except the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. But the devil tempted Eve, as he often tempts us, to disobey God. He said to her, ' Hath God said. Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden ? and the woman said unto the serpent. We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden ; but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden God hath said. Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die. And the serpent said unto the woman. Ye shall not surely die ; for God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as Gods, knowing good and evil. And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her, and he did eat.' Instead of trying to resist the devil. Eve listened to him and let him persuade her to disobey God, and then she tempted Adam, and persuaded him to dis- obey God also ; and they felt so ashamed of themselves that they tried to hide from God ; but He had been watching their disobedience, and He called them out of their hiding-place, and they had to tell Him all. God punished Adam and Eve very severely for dis- obeying Him ; He drove them out of the beautiful garden, where they might have been so happy if only they had done what God told them. How impossible it is then for us to escape from God's sight, for His eyes are watching us everywhere, and see both the evil and the good ! But sometimes we seem to forget this. Have you children never done what you knew was wrong when your friends were away ? Have you never disobeyed them behind their backs ? I am "afraid we can all remember times when we have done this, but we forgot that God was watching us all the time ; and we must ask His 47 Ver. 49. GENESIS XXXI., XXXII Ver. 1. forgiveness, or we shall have to answer for what we have done when we stand before His Judgment Seat. But why should we want to escape from God's sight ? When we have done nothing wrong we do not want to be out of our friends' sight, we like being with them. But if we have disobeyed them we wish we could escape from their sight before they find out our sin. It is sin that makes us wish we could escape from God's sight, because we feel so ashamed that He should know the wrong that we have done. Adam and Eve felt ashamed, and longed to hide from God. ' They heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden, in the cool of the day ; and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God, amongst the trees of the garden.' But it was no use, for God had been watching them the whole time. How careful we must be not to do anything we should be ashamed for God to see, knowing that nothing can be hidden from Him. I remember a story of a little boy who wanted to take some sweets he had been forbidden to touch ; he said it would be all right, because the cupboard where they were kept was dark, so he would not be seen ; but his sister reminded him that God could see in the dark. The Bible tells us this ; it says, ' The darkness hideth not from Thee, but the night shineth as the day ; the darkness and the light are both alike to Thee'. Remember this ; and if you ever feel tempted to be disobedient when your friends' backs are turned, think of that text — 'Thou God seest me'. Well, now we have thought of God's eye always seeing us, let us think about our own eyes. We all hope to see Jesus one day. And we all shall see Him when we stand before Him to be judged. But shall we be pleased to see Him ? We have never seen Him before, but He has been watching us all our lives, without ever taking His eyes off us ; and when He comes to judge us, ' Every eye shall see Him, and they also which pierced Him '. And that does not only mean the soldier who pierced the dear Saviour's side with the spear. It means all sinners. Every time we sin we wound Jesus ; it was our sins that made Him suffer the cross and the spear. If we have repented of our sins, and have been forgiven for them, we shall be pleased to see Jesus, and 'with joy and gladness shall we be brought, and shall enter into the King's palace '. But if we appear before Him without having tried to overcome the sins that caused Him such pain, we shall not be pleased to see Him, and 'shall go away into everlasting punishment'. The best way for us to be pleased to see Jesus then, is to remember that He sees us now. Try to let your childhood be like His ; and we must pray for one another that we may meet in that City, of which we are citizens, and see Jesus face to face for evermore. And our eyes at last .shall see Him, Through His own redeeminj? Love ; For that child so dear and gentle Is Our Lord in Heaven above. And He leads His Childrea on To the place where He is gone. — J. L. Smith-Dampier, Christ's Little Citizens, p. 143. THE MEETINGS WITH THE ANGELS 'And Jacob went on his way, and the angels of God met him.' — Genesis xxxh. i. Whatever may be thought or said of Jacob, there is no doubt that his is an intensely human character. It is, I think, the first quite human character in the Bible. Cardinal Newman remarked that 'Abraham we feel to be above ourselves, Jacob to be like our- selves '. It is difficult to rise to the majestic concep- tion of him who is called in St. James's Epistle ' the friend of God '. But Jacob's ambition, his tempta- tion, his fall, his punishment, his remorse, his agony of faith, his purification by suffering, these are features of the common human life. Suppose there is some one among us (and there may well be in a new Term) who has in his heart a love of holiness, could he but be true to it, who desires above all else to see the face of God, and yet who is not entirely sui'e of his own sincerity — not sure that he would have the grace of scorning- a mean action, if there were a certainty of his gaining a privilege by it — who feels that he might be led into doing evil that good might come (which is so dangerous a course, because the evil you do is certain, and the good is only contingent and may never come to pass), that he might not rise above the level of public opinion, but fall below it, and possibly even drag it down : well, then, such an one is a Jacob, a •supplanter, and it will cost him a sore effort to win his soul's salvation. I. It is a comfort, then, to think that when ' Jacob went on his way,' as we shall go during the next few weeks on oui-s, ' the angels of God met him '. You know he had j ust parted from Laban ; he was re- turning to his old home. He was going to meet the brother he had offended ; perhaps there is some one here who, in coming back to Harrow, has rather dreaded meeting a justly offended schoolfellow. It was even then in Jacob's life that the angels met him, and it was the turning-point, I would say, of his life. For Jacob, as I have said, is one of those who begin badly, who do what is wrong, and have to suffer for it, and to suffer greatly ; and yet he too had heavenly visions and spiritual striving.s, and the end was that he became a prince of God. It is told in the biography < f the great St. Columba, who was the Apostle, as I dai'e say you know, of Scotland, that one day when he was visit- ing one of his monasteries, a little boy, 'a poor little scholar of thick speech and heavy look,' came and touched the end of his robe, just as the poor woman in the Gospel touched our Lord's. The people who saw him cried, ' Back, back, little fool '. But St. Columba turned and kissed him — he wa* 48 \ cr. 1. GENESIS XXXI I., XXXVII Ver. 5. trembling all over — then he made the sign of the cross upon his tongue. ' This boy,' he said, ' whom you have so despised, let no man despise him from this day forth. For he shall be great, and shall grow in wisdom and in virtue ; he shall be famous in all the Churches of Scotland, and God shall give his tongue the gift of truth and eloquence.' And long afterwards that little boy would tell this story, and when he died he too was honoured as a saint. II. But the truth is, that to us all come heavenly visions, if only we knew them and would live as in the light of them. God has not left us to fight out our own battles. We are compassed about with a cloud of heavenly witnesses. ' We are made a spectacle ' — a theatre — ' unto the world, and to angels, and to men.' Oh ! if we could draw aside the veil which ever hides the invisible world from human eyes, if we could look upon life, as some day we shall look upon it from the verge of the eternal realm, would not the mountain, as in the vision of Elisha, seem to be full of horses and chariots around God's saints? should we not realize with a horror of suiprise the spiritual powers which agonize for every living human soul ? Think what a mystery lies in the promise that there is joy :unong the angels over one sinner who repents of his life's sin. Think what solemnity rests on your dealing with even the humblest of your schoolfellows in this place, if his angel does always behold the face of your Father and his Who is in heaven III. Let me speak, first, of your private devotions. People sometimes talk as if prayer were a waste of time. They say, 'The world is full of suffering, it needs action ; let us emerge from our retirement and set it to rights '. Ah I they do not know at all that prayer is action, even as action, in the old saying, is a form of prayer. They think of Christ only as the Healer and Redeemer ; they do not discern the secret of His saving works in the long nights spent in prayer upon the mountain. But you — you will not make this great mistake. It were hardly too much to say that there is one point only in which God's saints of all the ages and of all religions are agreed, and that is the spu'itual potency of prayer. Would you know the revelation of the Divine will ? Then ' enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret '. 2. Nor is it only so, methinks, that angels meet you. Can it be that they are present when you worship alone, and are not present when you worship in the sanctuary ? Nay, One greater than the angels has declared that, where two or three ai'e gathered together in His Name, He Himself is in the midst of them, to bless them. 3. But yet once more, and in the highest sense, the angels meet you when you gather round the Table of the Lord. For that is the highest function, you know, of Christian worship, and it is only the fully enfranchised Christians who are admitted to it. — .1. F. C. Wei.ldon, Sermons Preached to Harrow Boys, 1885-6, p. 89. DREAMING AND DOING 'Joseph dreamed a dream.' — Genesis xxxvii. 5. I DO not believe much in the future life of a boy who never dreams. I do not mean by a dream only the curious odd fancies which sometimes come into the mind at night, but I mean the dreams which visit us while our eves are wide open in the daytime ; and often the dreams of our sleep are closely connected with the dreams of our waking hours. You remember that the things Joseph dreamt about were sheaves and stars. I suppose the fact is that often in the daytime, as he walked through the splendid fields of corn, like wide seas of golden glory rippling in the bright eastern sunshine, and saw all scattered over them, almost like beds of variegated flowers, the groups of people in their bright-coloured garments reaping the crops and binding them into sheaves, great thoughts used to come into his mind that, good and useful as the work of these people was, there must be some nobler and better thing in life, and that he would like to attain to it. And then at night, as he looked up at the great heaven with its myriad stars, which seem to grow more and more as we gaze on at the darkening sky, he felt some of those great and higher thoughts which come into all our minds when we look up from earth to the glory and the splendour and the majesty of the hosts of heaven. And so he went to bed and dreamt sleeping, as he had dreamt waking, of great things. If you never dream, waking or sleeping, while you are young, of great things, you will never do great things when you have grown up. But dreaming is not enough. There were two mistakes which Joseph seems to have made at this time. He thought that greatness consisted in having other people serving him. He thought that he could easily and without any trouble become great. He was to become great as we now know ; not easily, but through long years of trial and toil. And he was to he great, not by having others serv- ing him, but by serving them, and saving, by his genius and skill and energy, millions of lives of men. We learn that lesson from Joseph's life. His father's cruel kindness had led him to imagine that he might become great by some kind of easy favourit- ism. But God taught him otherwise. You will remember another life which we i-ead of in the Bible — not that of the younger, but that of the ' first-bom among many brethren ' — which shows us that the grandest, greatest, noblest thing on earth is to labour and to live for others, and even, if need be, to die for them. Dreaming will not do us good without doing. But the doing is scarcely likely to come if we have not dreamed about it first. Boys — have an ideal while you are young — dwell on it, think of it ; that is what we mean by dreaming. Don't begin life by saying in your hearts, ' I can do nothing great, I can never become famous '. If that is your dream of life, be 49 4 Ver. 9. GENESIS XXXIX Ver. 9. sure it will easily come true. But say to yourself, ' Others have grown up from being boys like myself to do noble deeds for others, to serve their King and country, and to help in saving those for whom Christ died. Why should not I do the same ? I will not only dream of it, but work hard from the beginning. I will pray God to show me where the path of duty for me lies, and even if it seems to lead me, as it led Joseph, into the slavery and struggle of some Egypt, I vvill trust God, and trusting Him do the right. There was a young lad one day lying on a grassy bank in Worcestershire. He was dreaming. His eyes were fixed on a grand old house and a glorious park which lay on the other side of the little stream of water which flowed at his feet. The name of the fine old place was Dayle.sford. It had belonged to his family long years before : he came of an old race descended from one of the Danish sea-kings who once were England's terror. They had owned it for centuries, but lost it in years of misfortune. And the dream he dreamt, with his eyes wide open, and his heart beating full of courage and resolve, was this : that though he was poor, and with no great friends to help him now, he would fight a brave battle in life, and perhaps some day be able to buy back the dear old place. The only opening he could find, however, in life was to go as a humble clerk to India. This was a hundred and fifty years ago, and India then was little known in England ; it took many months to sail there, and some people doubted whether the small band of merchants, who were its real gover- nors, would be able to hold it. So the young lad's prospects of Daylesford did not seem very bright. I cannot now tell you the whole of that young lad's history. You can read it when you grow older, or some of you even now, in the pages of Lord Macau- lay's Essays ; and you can go any day to Westminster Abbey and read there on a monument how it ended. He rose step by step, and the day came when Warren Hastings — for that was the little lad's name — was not only Governor-General of India, but also the owner of Daylesford, and to Daylesford, after a long and great career, he came at last to die. He told the story of his early dreams some time after, when they had all come true Thought first, and then Action ; the Dreaming first, and then the Doing. — T. Teignmocth Shore, St. George for England, p. 21. JOSEPH, THE MODEL REALISER OF QOD'S PRESENCE ' How then can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God ? ' — Genesis xxxix. g. It is easy to speak of four ways in which his sense of God's presence proved a blessing to Joseph. And if we learn to follow the model he thus sets before us, it will be a blessing to us in the same ways. 1. When Joseph realised Qod's Presence, he found in it — 'Company in his Loneliness'. — We can easily think of different occasions in Joseph's life when he must have felt very lonely. There was one, for instance, when he came to his brethren to inquire how they were, as they were feeding their flocks in Dothan. They saw him coming, and made up their minds to kill him. When he came up to them they seized him roughly, and stripped him of the coat of many colours, which his father had given him. Reuben persuaded them not to kill him. But they cast him into a deep pit, and left him there by him- self all night. How lonely he must have felt then ! And after this, when he was sold as a slave into Egypt, and found himself a stranger in that strange land, with not a single person in the whole country that he knew, and not one that knew him, how lonely he must have felt ! And then, when on account of the false accusation of his master's wife, he was suddenly cast into prison, how lonely he must have felt ! But we are told that ' the Lord was with Joseph ' in the prison. And the sense he had of God's presence took away the feeling of loneliness, and made him happy and contented, even when he was shut up in that lonely cell. And this sense of God's presence which he had must have given him a feeling of companionship in all his times of loneliness. And there are times with us ail, when we have to be separated from our friends, and be left alone. But, if we learn to realise God's presence as Joseph did, this will make us feel that we have pleasant company in our most lonely home. One of the best and holiest men that ever lived was Heniy Martyn, the English missionary to Persia. In carrying on his work there, he had many long and lonely journeys to take. But how sweetly he realised God's presence, as giving him company in his loneliness, is seen in these beautiful lines, which were found, after his death, written on one of the blank leaves of the Bible that he cai'ried with him wherever he went : — In desert woods, with Thee, My God, Where human footsteps never trod. How happy could I be ! Thou, my repose from care, my light Amid the darkness of the night^ In solitude my company. And how many of God's dear children have realised His presence in just the same way! Here is an illustration of this. The companionship of Jesus. — This incident was told by one of our chaplains in the late war. 'I went into a tent connected with the general hospital one day,' says he. 'There, on one of the beds, lay a beautiful drummer-boy, about sixteen years of age, burning up with fever. ' " Where is your home, my young friend ? " I asked. ' " In Massachusetts, sir," was his reply. ' " And you do not feel very lonely here, so far away from your father and mother, and all your friends, and so sick as you are ? " ' I never can forget,' says the chaplain, ' the sweet smile that lighted up his deep blue eyes, and played over his fevered lips, as he said, in answer to my ques- 50 Ver. 9. GENESIS XXXIX Ver. 9, tion, " Oh, no, sir. How can I feel lonely when Jesus is with me ? " ' That deal' boy was realizing God's presence in just the way of which we are speaking ; and he found company in it. II. As he realised God's Presence, Joseph found — 'Comfort in Trouble'. — And we shall find the same, just so far as we follow the model he has left us. Few persons have had such great troubles to bear as Joseph had. And yet he bore them bravely and cheerfully. And the secret of it was, he felt that God was present with him, all the time, and he found comfort in this thought. This gave Joseph comfort, when nothing else could have done so. And if we follow the model which he left us, and learn to realize God's presence, as he did, we shall find comfort under all our troubles, in the feeling that He is with us. Let us look at some examples of the way in which this comfort was found. The nearness of God. — A city missionary in London used often to visit a poor old widow. She lived in a gan-et alone by herself All she had to live on w^as half-a-crown a week, allowed her from some charity. This was only a httle over half a dollar of our money, and was barely enough to keep her alive. The missionary used to notice, standing on her window-sill, an old broken tea-pot, in which a straw- beiTy plant was growing. He felt interested in watching it, and seeing how it grew. One day he said to the old woman, ' I am glad to see how nicely your plant is growing. You'll soon have some berries ripening on it.' ' I don't care about the fruit,' she said. ' It's not that which leads me to watch over this little plant. But I am too poor to keep any living creature with me. And I love to have this little plant in my room. I know it can only live and grow by the power of God. And as I look at it, from day to day, and see it growing, it makes me feel that God is here with me, and I find great comfort in that thought.' Don't worry.- — During the reign of Oliver Crom- well in England, an English ambassador was going to Sweden; to represent his country there. He was a good Christian man ; but things were in such a troubled state in England, that he was sorry to be obliged to leave, and was greatly disturbed on this account. The last night he spent in England before sailing for Sweden, he was so distressed that it was impossible for him to sleep. He had a faithful man-servant, who w.as an earnest, intelligent Christian. He was grieved to see his master so much distressed. He heard him tossing about on his bed, and sighing and groaning. At last he rose, and went into his master's chamber, and apologising for disturbing him at such an hour, he begged to be allowed to ask him two or three questions. Permission was granted. Then he said : ' Pray, sir, don't you think that God governed the world very well before you came into it ? ' ' I do.' ' And pray, sir, don't you think that He will govern it quite as well when you are gone out of it ? ' ' Certainly I do.' ' Pardon me, sir, but don't you think you might safely leave Him to govern it while you are in it, without being so much troubled ? ' This was a view of the matter he had never taken. But he saw it was the right view to take. He thanked his faithful servant for the suggestion he had made. He resolved to put away the thought which had been troubling him. Then he turned over, and went quietly to sleep. He realised God's presence, and this gave him comfort in his trouble. ill. Joseph found — 'Strength for Duty' — in realising: God's Presence. — And if we follow the model he has set us we shall find the sama When his father told him to take that long journey, from Beersheba, where he lived, to Shechem, where his other sons were feeding their flocks, that he might see his brethren, and inquire how they were, Joseph obeyed his father, without a moment's hesitation. He knew very well that his brethren did not love him. They hated him because of his dreams ; and because their father had unwisely let it be seen that he loved Joseph more than he did any of his other sons. Joseph had reason therefore to fear that his brethren would not be kind to him. But, of course, he could have had no idea of the cruel way in which they were going to treat him. Still he obeyed his father at once. He felt sure that God would be with him, and this thought gave him strength to do his duty. The same feeling gave him strength to do his duty in the house of Potiphar ; and very soon he rose to the highest place in that household. And when he was cast into prison, he did his duty there so faithfully, that the keeper of the prison soon had so much confidence in him that he left the whole management of it in his hands. And it was the constant feeling of God's presence which Joseph had, that gave him strength to do his duty in all those trying cu'cumstances. And if we follow the model Joseph has left us, of realising God's presence, it will have just the same effect on us. It will always give us strength for duty, whatever that duty may be. Let us look at an illustration of this point. We may begin with a story about — A brave sailor boy. — He was a cabin boy on board an English man-of-war. He had a pious mother, and was trying to be a Christian ; and the story shows how the sense he had of God's presence strengthened him for duty, under very trying circum- stances, and made him eminently useful to his ship- mates and to his country. The sailors called this boy ' Cloudy '. The incident to which I refer took place in the midst of a terrible naval battle between the English and the Dutch. The flagship of the English fleet was commanded by the brave Admiral Narborough. His vessel had got separated somehow from the rest of his fleet, and was drawn into the 51 Ver. 9. GENESIS XXXIX., XL Ver. 8. thickest of the fight. Two of its masts had just been shot away, and had fallen with a fearful crash upon the deck. The Admiral saw that all would soon be lost unless he could bring up the rest of his ships to help him. He summoned a lot of his men upon the quarter deck. He could not send a boat, but he asked if any of them would volunteer to swim through the fight, and take an order for the rest of the fleet to come up at once to his help. A dozen men offered to go ; and little Cloudy made 1he same offer. The Admiral smiled, when he looked at him, and said, ' Why Cloudy, what can you do ? ' ' I can swim, sir, as well as any of them. You can't spare these men from the guns, sir. It won't make much matter if I am killed. But I'm sure that God will take care of me. Please, sir, let me go.' 'Go, mv brave lad,' said the Admiral, 'and may God bless you ! ' He thanked the Admiral, and running to the side of the ship, sprang over into the sea, and struck out bravely towards the ships, which he was to order up. The men cheered him, and then went back to their guns. The fight went on, but the Dutch were getting the best of it. The Admiral was feeling very sadly. He did not see how he could hold out much longer. He said to himself, ' I have never hauled down the flag of old England yet. I'd rather die than do it now. But how can I help it ? ' Just then he heard a firing to the right. Looking through the clouds of smoke that surrounded him, he saw that the brave boy had got through his long and dangerous swim. He had delivered the order entrusted to him ; and the expected ships were coming, crowding down upon the enemy. This turned the tide of battle. The Dutch were soon beaten, and the flag of old England was not hauled down that day. In the evening the Admiral called his men on deck to thank them for their brave conduct. And then, turning to Cloudy, who was also present, he said : — 'And I want especially to thank you, my brive lad, for your noble conduct. We owe this victory to you. I hope to live to see you have a flagship of your own, some day.' And it turned out just so. That cabin boy went on realising God's presence ; and this gave him strength for duty, till he was knighted by the king, and known in the English navy as — Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovel. IV. When Joseph reaiised the Presence of Qod, he found that it gave him — ■' Victory over Tenipta= lion '. — And if we follow the model he has left us, we shall find that it will do the same for us. The wife of his master, Potiphar, was trying to persuade Joseph to do what would have been very wrong. But the thing that kept him from doing it was the feeling he had that God was looking at him all the time. This led him to say, in the words of our text, ' How can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God ? ' It gave him victory over tempta- tion. But we all have temptations to meet with wherever we go. And the very best way of meeting these temptations is to imitate the model Joseph has left us, by trying, as he did, to realise God's presence, and never to forget that His (ye is always upon us. The thought of God's eye. — Emma Gray was a Sunday-school girl who was trying to serve the Lord Jesus Christ, and to make herself useful. As she was going to school one day, during the week, .she passed a little boy, whose hand was thrust through the railings of a gentleman's front garden trying to steal some flowers. ' Oh, my little boy,' said Emma kindly, ' do you think it's right to take those flowers without asking leave ? ' ' I only want two or three,' said the boy, ' and no- body sees me.' ' You are mistaken there, my boy. God is looking at you from yonder blue sky. He says we must not take what does not belong to us without leave. And if you do it He will see it, and it will grieve Him' 'Then, if He's looking at me I won't do it,' said the little fellow. And so, as he thought of God's eye, or realised God's presence, it gave him the victory over the temptation to steal those flowers. Josejih stands before us as the model realiser of God's presence. It was a blessing to him in four ways. It gave him company in his loneliness ; comfort in trouble ; strength for duty ; and victory over temptation. And if we learn to realise that pres- ence as he did, it will be a blessing to us, in just the same wav. Remember these four words when- ever you think of Joseph : company — comfort — strength — and victory. — Richard Newton, Bible Models, p. 91. THE INTERPRETER ' Joseph said unto them, Do not interpretations belong to God ? ' — Genesis xl. H. Sometimes we see a picture — very pretty — bright colours — plea-ant faces — onlv we cannot tell what it means. Presently some one comes and explains it — tells the story in words which we can understand — interprets it for us. Notice : — I. Two Pictures which Needed an Interpreter. — Two men in prison — drearv days — what a relief the nights must have brought them ! Piison walls can't shut out the sights which come to men in sleep. 1. The picture which the butler saw. — Beautiful vine. Three branches. Budded, blossomed, brought forth clusters. A man, himself, the king's cup in his hand ; seizes a bunch of the ripe grapes, squeezes juice into cup, and gives the cup into the king's hand. 2. The picture which the baker saw. — A man, himself ; three baskets of fine bread on his head. In 52 Ver. 8. GENESIS XL., XLV Ver. 15. the top basket all manner of confectionery. Birds of the air hovering round and picking out the choicest morsels. 11. The Interpreter and his Interpretations — If we want to know what a picture means, the best person to tell us is the man who painted it. ^Vho had painted these dream pictures ? [niush-ation.— Sometimes see a plate on which child has been rubbing paints ; a quantity of colour- smudges — blue — red— green — yellow — all mixed up together ! Many dreams something like this, just a quantity of thought-smudges. The butler thinks about grapes and cups ; the baker about bread and confectionery ; no wonder that in their dreams they should see pictures which remind them of such things. Once a great artist, Turner, got his grandchildren to rub their fingere about in the coloui-s on his palette. When they had made a great mess he said, ' Now stop,' and then from their smudges he painted a most beautiful picture. God sometimes does this with our thought-smudges. So, here, with the butler and the baker, He took their confused thoughts and made clear pictures out of them.] In the prison was a man who trusted God, and because he trusted God, therefore God trusted him. He understood what the dream pictures meant, God taught him to interpret them. This was his explana- tion : The three branches and the three baskets each meant three days. The butler squeezing grapes into the king's cup would get his place back again in that time. The baker, whose confectionery was stolen bv the birds, would lose his head as he had lost his wares. So, too, it came about, and the inter- pretation was found to be true. Conclusion. — Some people like to have dreams, but dreams are not much good if they have no mean- ing or if we can't find out what the meaning is. God sometimes teaches Uicn by dreams, but He has many other ways of teaching them. The world itself is God's great picture-book, full of meaning for those who can interpret it. Better to be an interpreter than a dreamer. Cf Job xxxiii. 23. If we can in- terpret, not dreams only but all nature will bring us messages from God. Can we be interpreters ? Yes, if we are like Joseph, pure, simple, trusting God, try- ing to obey Him. Those who trust God, God trusts. If like Joseph, we shall find, all about us, pictures with a meaning to them. Everything about us has a meaning if only we could understand. The seeds growing say to the interpreter, ' Don't be in a huiry ; first the grain, then the ear, then the full com in the ear '. The wind says, ' Ye know not whence I come or whither I go, and God's Spirit is like me '. The moon says, ' I am so bright and beautiful, because I reflect the light of the sun ; if you want to be bright and beautiful you must reflect the glory of Chiist '. We need not mind dreams, ^ood or bad : let us leam to tru.st and obey God, so that He may teach us to be good interpreters. — C. A. Good- hart, Hints and Outlines for Children's Services, p. 135. PAYING OFF OLD SCORES ' Moreover he kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them : and after that his brethren talked with him.'— Genesis xlv. 15. There is an old proverb that says, ' Revenge is very sweet'. Well, revenge is sweet, and one very often hears a boy say about another boy, ' I'll pay him out '. Well, it is right to pay him out. It is a sweet thing to be able to pay one out who has done you an ill turn. Revenge is very sweet, but you must go about it in the right way. There are two ways of doing everything — a right and a wrong way ; and so there is a right and a wrong way of revenge, a right and a wrong way of paying another out. The wrong way of doing this is a way that is not sweet, or good, or wise ; but there is another way that is very sweet, and good, and wise, and that is what we have in the text. I. Joseph's Revenge. — Hisbrothei"s had done him a very ill turn. You remember how they took away his pretty coat which his father had given him, and put him into a pit which had no water in it, and then sold him as a slave to a lot of travelling merchants, who carried him down to Egypt, where he got into no end of trouble. But God was with him, and he got on wonderfully, and at length became prime minister to Pharaoh — the second man in all the land of Egypt ! And now he had got these brothers into one room ; he had got them into the palm of his hand as it were ; he had only got to close his fingere upon them to crush them. He had just to strike his hands together twice, and instantly there would have come in a lot of servants with swords ; and he had only just to give a nod, and all those brothers of his would have been killed there and then. But that would have been both a foolish and a wicked way of taking his revenge. Joseph wasn't going to pay them out in that w:iy. Still, he was resolved to pay them out, and he did. How did he do it? Why, just as we read in the text, ' he kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them, and forgave them'. He did them good ; he made use of his power to serve them, to keep them alive. Instead of calling in his servants to kill them, he just flung both arms round their necks, and had a good cry ; and they all kissed just as they kissed one an- other when little boys together. That was Joseph's way of paying them out ; and you see what a wise and beautiful and noble bit of revenge it was. It broke their hearts, I should think. It made them very sorry, and by and by it filled them with the very wine of joy and gladness, and the gladness went right away to the poor old father living alone, in sorrow and sickness, ever mourning for his dead boy, Joseph. Why, it made the old man's heart dance with glad- ness ! Joseph's revenge, I think, must have been the happiest hour of his life, and he had had some very happy hours before. That must have been a very happy morning when his father brought out from his stores that coat of many colours — the boy must have been very happy when he first went out in that Ver. 15. GENESIS XLV., XLVIII Ver. 16. beautiful coat ; and then that morning when he awoke from the dream God gave him, showing how all his brothers should bow down before him ; and again when he was rescued from prison and made prime minister to King Pharaoh ; but I don't think he ever had such a happy moment as when he was paying his brothel's out — that moment when he was able to pay them back good measure, weighed down and running over, good for evil, a kiss for a blow, the tears of love for all the bad things they had done. That is the way to pay out. II. That is How Jesus Pays Out — If you read the story of Jesus' revenge, you will find it was just like Joseph's, only better, larger, and nobler. Still Jesus had His revenge, He paid out people who did Him an ill turn. They hated Him, grieved Him, forsook Him, and killed Him on the cross, did everything they could to injure Him, and Jesus paid them out. On the morning of the third day He rose from the grave, and that morning He was the Master of every- thing in this world. God put into His hands all authority and power ; He was stronger than death and hell, stronger than all the world ; and just as Joseph had his brethren, so on the morning of our Lord's Resurrection He had His enemies in the palm of His hand. He had only to close His fingers to crush them. But He did very much better than that. You read in history of people who rebel against governments, and when the rebellion is put down they are not all forgiven ; no, the ringleaders are not forgiven, they are killed ; only the smaller offenders are forgiven. But Jesus Christ didn't act like that. He didn't say So-and-so and So-and-so must not be forgiven, only the others. No ; He said to His disciples, ' All power is given Me in heaven and earth ; go ye therefore into all the world and preach the Gospel ' • — ^that is, forgiveness to everybody. That was Jesus' way of paying them out, and I think Jesus never had such a happy moment as when He said those words ; and He had had some very happy moments too. That was a happy moment when He felt God's spirit coming down upon Him when He was baptised, and when He did His first miracle, and when He bent over the little girl, the daughter of Jairus, and called her up from death. How happy He must have been, how His heart must have sung within Him, as He saw the girl's face brighten into life ! But I don't think He ever had such a happy moment as when He paid the world out, and told His disciples to go and preach the Gospel of love to all. ' If you meet the man who put his lance through My side, preach forgiveness to him. If you meet the man who struck the nails through Aly hands, preach the Gospel of love to him.' That was Jesus Christ's way of paying out. III. Your Revenge — Now, I dare say you little children, as you grow up, will meet with people who will do you ill turns. You meet them now — boys and girls who annoy you. Weil now, mind, always to take your revenge — always. Mind don't let a single thing be done to you without your paving it back ; but do it in this way. Don't return a blow for a blow — that is stupid ; don't return a frown for a frown — that is foolish. That is not paying out at all ; you do no good to anybody, and get no joy your- self. Joy is to be found only in following Joseph's plan, and following the plan of Jesus Christ — paying out evil with good, frowns with smiles, and blows with affection — and so will you draw down blessings on yourselves, and so will you have the very joy that makes God glad. May God help you in this. — J. Morgan Gibbon, In the Days of Youth, p. 1. THE REDEEMING ANQEL ' The angel which redeemed me from all evil, bless the lads.' — Genesis xlviii. i6. This is what a dear, kind old grandfather said to his grandsons. I have tried to find out how old his grandsons were. As far as I can make out they were sixteen and fifteen vears of age. These are very im- portant ages. Do you not find that grown-up people always tell you that every age is a very important age? Whenever you come to a new year, don't people tell you, ' Now you have come to a very im- portant year ? ' So it is. And I will tell you which I think is the most im- portant age. Which do you think is the most im- portant age ? I think the most important age of life is from one to twelve ; and after that from twelve to twenty-four is the next most important age; and after that the age is not so important. Do you know why ? Because then the character is foimed. Most people's characteis are formed between the years of one and twelve ! and some people's between twelve and twenty-four — very few people's after that. I am sure, then, that fifteen and sixteen are very important ages. And this dear old grandfather spoke to these boys when they were fifteen and six- teen years old, and he told them how kind God had been to him all his long life. I think we ought to do that — don't you ? That is one thing I ought to do as your clergyman. I am much older than you, and I ought to be able to say how kind God has been to me ; how good I have found God. And so I can. But not clergymen only. I think everybody ought to say so. Don't you sometimes wonder that grown-up people don't talk to you more sensibly and usefully about religion ? Does it ever strike you that when grown- up men and women talk to you, they do not talk to you about anything that will do you any real good ? I wish they did. I used to think it was a strange thing when I was a boy. And so will you remember, when you grow up, that you used to think that grown-up people never told you anything that would do you any real good. Jacob did talk to Ephraim and Manasseh about good things, to do them good, did not he ? He told them how God had taken care of him all his life ; how God had ' redeemed him from all evil '. 54 Ver. 10. GENESIS XLVIII Ver. 16. Do you remember how God ' redeemed ' Jacob ' from all evil ' ? Let us trv to recollect. When Jacob was younjj he was not very i;oo(l ; he was not kinil to his brother Esau ; he took advantage of him ; and, I must say, he cheated him ; and he deceived his own father, and God might have punished him verv much for it. God did punish him a little, He might have punished him very much ; but he did not do that. And when he was obliged to go away from home, when his mother sent him away from his brother because he had been naughty, and he had to go away to a far country, that night God met him, and told him He forgave him, that He ' redeemed him from all evil '. Then Jacob had to go out, a long way off, and spend twenty-one years as a slave at Paden-aram. And although he had to live with a very treacherous master God took care of him, and did not let his master hurt him. He delivered him 'from all evil'. He made him rich, He took care of him all these years, and when he came back, Jacob thought his brother Esau would kill him, for he was very strong and powerful, but God 'redeemed him from all evil' : and ' Esau ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him'. But God sent a great famine after that, and Jacob was likely to have died of hunger, but God took care of him ; there was plenty of com in Egypt, and ' re- deemed him from all evil '. Jacob thought Benjamin would die, but God 'redeemed him from all evil,' Benjamin didn't die. And He let him see Joseph again. So God was very kind to him all his lift-. He ' redeemed him from all evil '. And when Jacob was very old, he told his grandsons how kind God had been to him, how he had taken care of him all his life, and said, ' The Angel which redeemed me from all evil, bless the lads '. I. I wonder if you know who the ' Angel ' is ? Who do you think is ' the Angel that redeemed him from all evil ' ? Do you know what the word ' angel ' means ? It means a messenger, a good messenger. And the angels in heaven are so called because they carry messages. It is a nice thing to carry messages, if we carry them well. If we carry kind messages, and do it' in an accurate way, like Christ, it is being like the angels in heaven, it is being like Jesus Christ. I hope you will be all good messengers. Perhaps you will have a very important message to caiTy, and you ought to do it well. I have a very important one to carry to-day. Therefore I am an angel, for ministers are angels. But it is not an angel from heaven, it is not a minister, it is not a common man, that is meant here. Jesus Christ is meant, Jesus Christ is the ' Angel '. Shall we look at one or two verses to show you that ? I like to prove things by the Bible. Will you look at Genesis xxxi. 11 ; it says, ' And the Angel of God spake unto me in a dream, saying, Jacob'. In the 13th verse the Angel said, 'I am the God of Bethel '. Therefore the Angel was God, there- fore the Angel was Christ. Will you look at the verse before my -text — the 15th verse, Jacob ' blessed Joseph, and said, God, be- fore whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac did walk, the God which fed me all my life long unto this day, the Angel '. So the Angel is the same as he first calls God. Now will you turn to the book of Mulachi, the last book in the Old Testament ; look at the third chapter — you won't find the word ' Angel ' there, but the word 'messenger,' and you know messenger is exactly the same word. This is a prophecy of Christ, shall we reatl it ? The 1st verse of the third chapter, ' Be- hold, I will send My Messenger, and He shall prepare the way before Me ; and the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to His temple, even the Messenger of the covenant (i.e. Christ) whom ye delight in : be- hold, He shall come, saith the Lord of hosts '. Now if you like to look at one more passage (Is. Lxiii. 9) — it is all about Christ — 'In all their afflic- tions He was afflicted, and the Angel of His presence saved them '. There are a great many more passages, but that will be enough, I think, to show that ' the Angel ' in this veree was Jesus Christ. Now will you look at the verse again, and remember it is Jesus Christ — ' The Angel (i.e. Jesus Christ) which redeemed me from all evil, bless the lads'. I think now you will understiind the word ' Angel '. II. I want to help you now to understand another word. What is it to be ' redeemed ' ? Which re- deemed me from all evil'. Can you think? Does ' redeemed ' mean ' saved me,' ' delivered me ? ' Is it the same as if it said, ' The Angel that delivered me from all evil'? Not quite. That would only be half the meaning. If I were to save you from being drowned, and it was no trouble to me to save you, and if I did not expose my own life, I should not ' redeem ' you ; but if I did it at great danger, at great pain, or at great loss to myself, then it might be called ' re- deeming '. To ' redeem ' is to save at great cost to one's self — because the word means ' buy ' — to buy back. Therefore if I spend a great deal of money, and become much poorer by it, in order to do you good, then I ' redeem ' you. That is the meaning of the word ' redeemed '. Did you ever think what was the value of your souls — how much ? When I see something very valu- able, I sometimes say, ' How much did it cost? How much did that watch cost ? How much did that diamond cost?' How much did your soul cost? How nmch did your body cost ? How much did it cost that you should be alive this day ? How much did it cost for your ' hope ' to go to heaven ? How much did it cost that you should have your happy thoughts ? How much did it cost? A thousand pounds ? Thou- sands of thousands of pounds ? The earth ? The world ? All the stars ? Everything that was ever made ? Much more I much more ! It cost Jesus Christ — who made everything — the life of Jesus Christ. Oh ! what a precious thing your soul is, and your body too 1 Your soul was bought, and your body was bought also 1 Will you remember that that 55 Ver. 16. GENESIS XLVIIl Ver. 16. little body of yours has cost so much ? Take care what you do with it ; it is very costly. That tongue of yours — do you remember what it cost ? Those hands — ^what they cost ? And every thought ? And your soul — what it cost ? You mustn't play carelessly with very expensive things, must you ? If a watch cost a thousand pounds, you must take care what you do with that watch. Take care what you do with that body, and that soul — for they cost a great deal. Christ ' redeemed ' them from ' all evil ' — paid His ' hlood ' for them. And now we go on to think what it means here — that Christ ' redeems ' us ' from all evil '. What is the greatest ' evil ' in the world ? What is the worst thing? Do you think it would be to break your neck ? The worst thing is sin — sin. But Christ has 'redeemed' us — 'the Angel' has 'redeemed' us from sin. Do you remember any text about Christ redeem- ing us from ' sin ? ' ' Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world ! ' III. And how has He ' redeemed ' us ' from sin ' ? I will tell you what a poor heathen once said about it — perhaps you have read it. A poor heathen, who had become a Christian, wanted to explain how he became a Christian to another heathen who did not know anything about it ; and he took a little worm — a poor, little, miserable worm — and he put the worm on a stone, and he put all round the stone, where the worm was, some straw. He then lighted the straw, and when it was all blazing, he ran through the lighted straw, and took up the little worm in his hand when it was wriggling in the fiie. The hot fire had scorched and drawn it up. ' This,' he said, ' is just what I was — a poor, miserable worm, with a fire all around me ; and I should have died, and gone to hell ; but Christ ran in, took me up in His arms, and saved me : and here I am a saved one.' I will tell you a remarkable thing which happened in a town in the West of England. One Sunday a clergyman was to preach a sermon ; the people in the town did not know him ; he was a stranger there ; but he was known to be a very excellent clergyman, and a very clever man. A great many people went to hear him preach, and when the prayers were over the clergyman went into the pulpit. The congre- gation noticed that he seemed to feel something very much — for he was silent some time, and could not be- gin his sermon. He hid his face in his hands, and the congregation thought he was unwell ; but he was not. However, before he gave out his text, he told them something like this : ' I want to say something. Fif- teen years ago I was in this town, and I was in this church. I was then very young — and I came to hear the sermon. That evening, three young men came to this church. They were very wicked young men. You may suppose how wicked, for they came not only to laugh, but they came actually to throw stones at the clergyman. 'They filled their pockets with stones, and determined they would thi'ow at him. When the sermon began thev were sitting together, and when the clergyman had gone on a little way, one said to the other, " Now throw ! now throw ! " This is what they said, " Now throw at the stupid old blockhead, now throw ! " The second said, " No ; wait a little, I want to hear the end of what he is saying now, to see what he makes of it ". They waited. But presently he said, "Now you can throw: I heard the end of it, there was nothing in it ". The third said, " No, no, don't throw, what he says is very good, don't hurt the good old man ". Then the two others left the church saying something very wicked ; they swore at him, and went away very angry, because he had spoiled their fun in not letting them thi-ow.' The clergyman went on to say, ' The first of those three young men was hanged some years ago for for- gery ; the second was a poor, miserable man, brought to poverty and rags, miserable in mind, and miserable in body ; and the third is now going to preach to you — Listen ! ' So ' the Angel ' ' redeemed ' that poor boy (for he was only a boy when he went to throw stones) ' from all evil '. It is not only sin, there are other 'evils'. There are a great many troubles in life, aren't there? Have not you a great many troubles ? I am sure you have some. It is a great mistake to say to children, ' Oh ! you have no troubles '. I think children have quite as many as grown-up people, perhajis more. But people often say to children, ' You have no troubles now, you have them all to come by and by'. That is not the case. I believe you have quite as many troubles as we have ; but Christ ' redeems ' you from all trouble. Now there are two ways Christ can do it. Per- haps Christ will say, ' Trouble shan't come to that boy or girl '. That's one way ; but He could do it another way. He could say, ' Yes, trouble shall come, but when it comes, it shall be turned into joy. I will make him so happy in his trouble, that he shall be glad. His sorrow shall be turned into joy.' Which, think you, will be the best, tor trouble not to come at all, or, when it comes, to be ' turned into It is just so, you know, with the dark cloud which makes the rainbow, or, as a very clever Frenchman has done, it is quite true, he has found out the way to make suuar out of tears. He gets a great number of tears and makes sugar out of them. God makes sugar out of tears, that is the best way of ' redeeming us from evil '. So that you see God can do two things to you, and He will be sure to do one of the two. If you are His child, He will either prevent trouble coming, or, when it comes. He will 'turn it into I will tell you about a little boy — it is quite true. About eighty-five years ago there was a little boy, and his name was James. He was six years old. He was the son of Moravian parents, and his father was a missionary ; he went out for the missions, and his mother went with his father out to a foreign country. They were very son-y to leave their little boy behind, they were very unhappy to part from him, they 56 Ver. 16. GENESIS XLVIII Ver. 16. could not lielp it, but they never saw him again, for thev died in the place to which they went out. James was sent to school, if ^ou want to know the place it was called Fulneck, in Yoikshire. He was a very nice-looking boy, very good, and not much like other boys, as he did not delight in play, but used to like to be by himself, and used to think a great deal. He was very fond of reading, and always read good books ; he was a very thounhtful boy. When he was fourteen he left Fulneck, and went to be apprenticed in a town in Yorkhhire. He himself was a Scotch boy. He went to a grocer — he did not like him at all. Mr. Dykes was always complaining of James — he was not the sort of boy for a grocer; he was too lond of reading and books to serve the customers carefully. The grocer said, ' There was old Mrs. Shepstone came yesterday to buy some snuff, and he sold her coffee instead. And on another day he told a person the price of tea was 4d. a lb. instead of 4s." Mr. Dykes was very unkind, he used to give him hard words and hard blows. At last he told James that he could not keep him any longer, he must go away, and earn what he could. The ])Oor boy had only three shillings and sixpence in his pocket when he was turned away ; and his master told him he had better go to London, or some- where else. When he left, he said — not meaning it, but rather in a joke — ' Perhaps, Mr. Dykes, I shall be a greater man than you some day ; and perhaps people will come to .see the house where I was born,' for he h.id great ambition. He didn't go to London, for another person in the town gave him a situation. He did not, however, stay long there, he went from one situation to another. But although he was .so fond of books, and fond of the best thoughts, yet he prayed a great deal, and giew up a thoughtful, pious young man. Now I am going to skip over about eighty years, and I will tell you what happened then. At the little town of Alva, in Scotland, there arrived a nice old gentleman — an honourable old man — and all the town came to ms'et him. The magistrate came to meet hiui in his robes ; and after speaking a word or two, the good old gentleman said, ' I want to ask you a kindness; will you allow me to go alone? I have not been here for eighty years, I want to see whether I can find the house where I was born '. So he went by himself, found the house, in which was an old woman. He said to the woman, ' Do you live here?' 'Oh, yes,' she said, 'I live here.' 'I am come to see this house,' he said. She replied, 'Ah, a great many braw ladies come to see this house — it is a great house, gi eater than a palace^ — for here James Montgomery was born ! ' And that old man was James Montgomery, the Christian poet, the man who wrote that beautiful hymn — Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Uttered, or unexpress'd — The motion of a hidden fire, That trembles in the breast. That was the way James Montgomery began, that was the way James Montgomery ended. God 're- deemed ' him, brought him out to honour, and some- thing better than honoui-, for he is gone to heaven now. I will tell you now about God 'redeeming' a little girl in another way. Her name was Alvi, but she was always called Allie. She was three years old, and one day little Allie jumped upon her father's knee, and said, ' Pa, when's spring ? ' Her papa stroked her little curly head, and patted her on her cheeks, and she looked up and smiled and said, 'I fat as butter'. She said again, 'I loves my pa, I does; I loves my pa '. And her papa loved her very much. She .said, ' When's spring, pa ? ' The father said, ' Why do you want to know when spring is ? Do you want to see the pretty flowers, and hear the birds sing, and play in the sunshine?' She said, 'No, pa; me go to church in spring.' ' Do you wish to go to church, Allie?' 'Very much, pa." 'Why Allie?' ' God there, God there ! ' ' And do you love God, Allie?' 'Oh! so much, papa, so much ! ' ' Well, mv dear,' papa said to little Allie, 'to-morrow is spring, spring will be to-morrow.' And little Allie jumped down from her father's knees, saying, ' To-morrow ! to-morrow! Alii-i- is so happy! To-morrow, to- morrow, to-morrow I ' And she went about the house singing, 'Aliie is so happy, to-morrow, to-morrow, to-morrow, Allie so happy '. That night Allie was very tired, she wanted to go to bed an hour before her proper time. During the night she fell into a burning fever and they sent for a doctor. When he came he shook his head, and said, 'Too late! too late I nothing can be done'. They sent for four doctors, and all said, 'Too late ! too late I ' And when the morning came, little Allie was dead, she was gone to heaven. Her mamma stood and looked at her, and thought of what she had said the day before, 'To-morrow, to-morrow, Allie so happy to-morrow ! ' and she wiped away her tears at the thought. So God ' redeemed ' little AUie. IV. Now ' the Angel which redeemed me from all evil, bless the lads '. Jesus likes to ' bless '. I think some people think He likes to punish, that He is very severe ; but He is not. He likes to ' bless,' and noth- ing but ' bless '. Jacob didn't know Him so well as you know Him. When Christ came, what did He do ? Don't you know? He 'blessed the lads '. Don't you remember that Jesus ' took the little babes in his arms (I don't know whether they were boys or girls, perhaps both), put His hand upon them and blessed them '. We are sure He loves to ' bless ' little boys and girls. There are a great many places in the Bible where it says Jesus loves to ' bless' little children. Shall I tell you what the high priest did ? If you will attend to it you will see what I mean. Once in the year the high priest of the Jews went into th > holy place in his common clothes. He stood there ,■■ little while, and then you would have .seen him come out again in beautiful clothes, his priestly clothes, such 57 Ver. 16. GENESIS XLVIIL, XLIX Ver. 4. beautiful, magnificent clothes ! And when he came out in his priestly clothes, he stood at the door, lifted up his hands, and blessed all the people. Jesus Christ is our High Priest He went to heaven in His common clothes : He went to heaven like you and I almost ; but He will come out so grand, so beautiful, and when He comes out from the holy place, He will stretch His hand over the world, and say, ' Come, ye blessed children of my Father '. He will come to ' bless ' us. He is always ' blessing '. He began preaching by ' blessing '. He ' blessed ' little children. He ' blessed ' the Apostles when He arose from the grave. He was always 'blessing'. Jesus loves to ' bless ' you. Nobody loves you as Jesus loves you, and He is always ' blessing ' you, ' Bless the lads ! ' Will you turn to the book of Chronicles, there is an account of a young person who asked God to 'bless' him (1 Chron. iv. 10), 'And Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, Oh that Thou wouldest bless me indeed, and enlarge my coast, and that Thine hand might be with me, and that Thou wouldest keep me from evil, that it may not grieve me ! And God granted him that which he requested.' There you see was a young person who asked God to ' bless him indeed,' and God did so. If you want to know whom God will ' bless,' read the eleven first verses of the fifth of Matthew, and there you'll find whom God blesses. And, oh ! what a blessed, happy thing it is to be a child whom Christ blesses ! Shall I tell you how you'll feel ? I cannot tell all, I will tell you a little. There was a good man once, who said that all his life through he always fancied that he felt his mother's soft hand upon his head ; and he said it kept him from a great many sins, and always made him feel very comfortable when he was in trouble. Now if you are one of the children whom God 'blesses,' you will always feel, wherever you go, 'Christ's hand is upon my head, laid there to bless me '. You will feel, ' He has set me apart ' What a happy thing wherever you go, at play or work, out of doors or indoors, ' Christ's hand is upon me, and He is blessing me'. I will tell you another feeling you'll have. What a diff'erence it makes when the sun comes out ! How cheerful it makes everything look ! Now if you are one of God's dear children, it will always be sunshine. There was a little girl, so good, so affectionate, so kind to everybody, that she went by the name of ' The little bit of blue sky,' because she was always so bright, and sunny, and happy. I wish you all "went by that name. But if you are God's child, you will always be happy; you will always go about like 'a little bit of blue sky '. Then, perhaps, when you grow up to be old men and women, you will be able to tell somebody what I am telling you, you will be able to say how kind God has been to you ' all your life '. Who knows ? Per- haps you'll look back some day, oh I a long time hence. if God lets you live, and you will say, ' I remember going into a church at Brighton, on the 10th day of June, I860, and remember the clergyman preaching about the " Angel that redeemed us from all evil," and he told us that if we loved God, we should be so happy and blessed, and be like "a little bit of blue sky," and that Christ's hand would be upon our heads ; and I have found it much better than he told us ; he was very stupid not to tell us more. It was a thou- sand times more than that. It is all come true, and much more than true : he didn't tell us half enough ! ' Perhaps you will say that. Perhaps you'll have your grandsons and granddaughters come to sit on your knees, and you will say to them, ' The Angel which redeemed me from all evil all my life, the dear Saviour that has been so kind, and made me so happy, and laid his hand upon me, bless the girls, bless the boys'. You will be able truly to say this text, ' The Angel that redeemed me from all evil, bless the lads ! ' — James Vaughan. INSTABILITY UNSUCCESSFUL ' Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel.' — Genesis xlix. 4. Reuben was the eldest son of Jacob. The eldest brother and sister ought always to be the most use- ful ; the only way to be useful is to be kind. I do not know whether I am speaking to anybody who is the eldest of a family. Perhaps I am, and perhaps some day you may have to take the place of your father and mother, because your dear father and mother may be gone ; they may die ; and then you must expect all the younger brothers and sisters to look up to you, and respect you, so that you may do a great deal of good. Therefore, you should always be very kind, and live every day in such a way that your brothers and sisters may respect you ; you must be very kind and consistent, and also holy. Little Julia was a very uncommon little girl, and her father and mother died when she was only four- teen years old. She had three younger brothers and sisters, and was very kind to them. They used to say they would rather be with Julia than with any- body. And one Sunday somebody went to see them, and he found them all very happy, but they were crying, yet they were very happy indeed. And the reason they cried was this, they had been reading about Jesus. And the gentleman who called said, ' Why do you cry about Jesus ? — you have often read about Jesus '. ' Oh, yes, we have often read about Him, but then nobody is like Julia — nobody reads like her ; we feel her reading more than we do the clergyman's.' Now she was a nice elder sister. And whoever is the eldest boy or girl in any school or family, fills a very important place. I do not know who is the eldest boy or girl among those I am speaking to ; but who- ever is the eldest ought to be veiy good, and ought to say, 'I must live a Christian, that all others may look up to me '. Some years ago there was an eldest boy in one of our religious schools — it was a school at Marlborough 58 Ver. 4. GENESIS XLIX Ver. 4. — and he was a Christian boy, and the younger boys loved him, and they said that he did more good than the master ; he was such a Christian boy. I will not tell you his name, though I know it — he was always first in every good thing- — first in loving and fearing God ; and he did such good in Marlborough that many boys said they owed a great deal indeed to that boy. He was the eldest. Reuben is the eldest, and therefore you will see his father calls him, in the verse before the text, ' the excellency of dignity, and the excellency of power,' and he calls him too ' unstable as water '. lleuben had one great fault, and that spoiled him. Do you know what it was ? He was ' unstable '. What does that mean ? ' Unstable.' I will tell you what that word means exactly ; it means that his character did not stand ; he was always changing ; he was not steady to one thing : he was not a firm character ; and because he was not a firm or steady character, it spoiled all. Now it says here, you see, that an ' unstable man ' is like ' water '. Shall we think how he can be like ' water ' ? There are several sorts of water — what water shall we think of? There is the sea, that is all water, and you know the sea is very restless — it does not keep still- — it is not the same one day as it is another day — it occasionally looks a different col our, it sometimes looks green, sometimes blue, sometimes a kind of purple, sometimes whitey-brown ; and then it is always tossing about. You remember it says in Isaiah lvii. 20, ' The wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt '. I do not think that this is what the word means. Do you know how 'water' is made? Water is made up of numbers and numbers of little round things called ' globules,' little spheres ; and they touch one another only at points, just like marbles in a bag ; they cannot stick to one another. To speak properly, there is not much attraction or cohesion, because they are little round things ; but they may be easily separated. Now a piece of wood is altogether different, be- cause it is close, it is not composed of little round things. W^e can put our hands into a basin of water and move it about, but we cannot put our hands into a piece of wood — it is too firm ; but as water sticks so little together, you can easily move it. If you put some water in a basin on a table and you walk across the room, the water will move by the shaking ; and even if you breathe upon it, the breath will cause it to move. For this reason it is so ' unstable '. And you cannot, you know, make water stand up by itself. Supposing you get some water, and try to make a pillar of the water, you cannot do so. If you try to make water stand up by itself it will not stand up. No, not even the most wonderful man that ever lived in the world could make water stand up like a pillar. So a man that is ' unstable ' cannot stand ; he is always moving, that is what it means. Think of the sea — think of the water in the basin — how it moves by a little touch. You may try, but I am sure you cannot make water stand up. It is said of some people they are just like ' water,' they cannot stand ; they are always moving, always changing — ' Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel '. Now I wonder if I am addressing any of you who are like Reuben. You find that now and then you have very good feelings ; then these feelings all pass away ; you cannot keep them. Perhaps some of you now,- — if not now, some of you can recollect a time when you used to read the Bible at home : when you were very little children you have read to your father or mother ; do you re- member how sometimes you used to think when you were reading the Bible — perhaps you were only little children, and only just able to read at all — you have felt so religious and looked so happy. Are you as good as you were when you were very little ? Can you say now, ' I read the Bible as I did then ' ? Will you look at Hosea vi. 4 — we will all read it together — ' O Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee ? O Judah, what shall I do unto thee ? For your goodness is as a morning cloud, and as the early dew it goeth away.' Are you like that ? Does all your religion soon pass away, soon go ? It is very often the case with little children. I will tell you how it is. You kneel down to say your prayers, and before you have gone through them your thoughts travel I don't know where ; your thoughts all wander. Then you go to other things. You go to your studies ; you may be very diligent ; you commence well ; you open your books and begin to study, but before you get a very little way you have looked at something which sends your thoughts all wandei'ing about ; you do not keep steady ; you are ' unstable '. Then I will tell you another thing I think about some of you: that you determine that you will be good, and love God, and do what is right ; and yet, after perhaps a very little time, you break your resolution. You are ' unstable '. There is another verse in Hosea I should like you to read, chapter vii. 8. It is a very singular verse : ' Ephraim is a cake not turned '. Done on one side and not on the other. Have you two sides ? One side looks very different from the other. To see you on one side people would say, ' What a religious boy that is I What a religious girl that is I ' But, looking at the other .side, people would see that you did not give God your whole heart ; all is not given to God. You make resolutions, but you do not keep them. W^ill you look at Matthew xxi. 30 ? ' And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered and said, I go, sir ; and went not.' Have you not sometimes said to God, ' I go,' and afterwards go not ? You make resolutions and break them. I will tell you a sad story. An old man was lying on a sick and dying bed, and he sent for all his children ; when they gathered around him he said something like this : ' My dear children, never 59 Ver. 4. GENESIS XLIX Ver. 4. grieve the Holy Spirit. Taiie warning by me. When I was a little boy I had often religious instruc- tions, but I did not take much account of them till I was about sixteen. Then I had very strong religious feelings — I had great convictions of sin, and I re- member what I did. I remember saving to myself, " I must become a Christian, I must be religious, but I am very young now ; there are a great many pleasures, and I will take my pleasure now, but will become teligious soon." ' And so I put it away, and went on till I was twenty-five — _] ust after I was married — and then came another, when it seemed as if the Holy Spirit was striving with me again, for He was very patient with me, and I had very strong religious feelings, and something seemed to whisper to me, " Now, now ". I remember what I did then. I said, " Now I am man-ied, and I must attend to my wife, to my home, and my children ; I cannot forget them just now". ' And so it went on till I was forty. And when I was forty I remember how the Spu'it worked in my heart again, and urged me very strongly to decide for God. And Mgain I said, " I am a man of bu.siness, I can't do it while I have to keep up my business ; when I give up my business, then I will give my whole heart to God ". ' And so it went on for another ten years, till I was fifty, and then it once more came to me and said, " Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salva- tion ". I put it away more easily than I did before ; I thought that soon I should be a very old man, and then I should be infirm and be obliged to stop in- doors, and then it would be the time to be religious. But now I lie upon my sick-bed, and now it does not seem as if the Holy Spirit is with me ; He does not seem to draw me. I li.sten, I listen ; but I quenched the Spirit — I stifled conviction. I have gone through life without Him, and now He seems gone ! " Quench not the Spirit." ' And he died. I am not going to say whether that man was saved or not — God only knows — he may be ; Jesus may have saved him. I know he was very unhappy indeed, but he was a very old man to look back and think when he was dying that he had been so ' unstable '. Now I will tell you one more thing in which I think you are like the ' water'. Don't you find that you are very different when you are with different sorts of people ? When you are with good people, you feel how pleasant it is to be good ! Ah, and when you go with another sort of people, wicked people, then you are like the wicked people, and you act like them, and feel like them ! You are always like the people you are with — changing your char- acter, and striving to please everybody. There is a very awful instance in the Bible of a man who did that. Do you know who it is ? Pontius Pilate — he was always like the people he was with. When he was with Christ, he was like a Christian ; when he was with a Jew, he was like a Jew ; and when he was with a Roman, he was like a Roman ; and just see what he did. He at last became so wicked that he crucified Christ ! He was a weak character. ' Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel.' Now I think you see how you are like ' water '. Do you remember whether it is so ? I think it is. Some- times you have very good feelings, and they pass away like 'the dew' in the morning. I think you make good resolutions and break them again. I think you act according to the people you are with. And in all these things you are ' unstable,' like the ' water'. Now God has said that if you are ' unstable ' like the 'water,' you 'shall not excel'. If you are restless and changeable — if you are easily moved, like the ' water ' in the basin, by the breath of what anybody says, or the footsteps of a companion — if you cannot stand up you will never be great. Just turn to St. James, and see what he says about that (chap. I. 6-8), ' For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive anything of the Lord. A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.' If you ai-e undecided in religion, you will be undecided in everything ; it will make you a changeable character in everything ; and then you will never be a great man, or a great woman ; you will never do anything very great ; you may be saved, but vou will never be what I wish you all to be, a useful man or woman— great in earth and great in heaven — what God calls great. Reuben was never great, though he was the eldest ; no, Reuben never (lid any great things because he was ' unstable '. Now I come to the all-important thing. Are you very weak ? Which is weaker — your bodies or your souls ? You have not very strong bodies, but your souls are weaker than your bodies. A good old divine, one of the old Puritans, who lived a long time ago in England, says that he always had a broken wine glass, without the bottom, and around the wine glass he used to have the text written, ' Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe '. His soul was like the wine glass. To remind him how weak he was, he had this wine glass before him with the text written around it, ' Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe '. How can we become more firm and strong, that we may 'excel' — that we may all be useful Christians? That is what I want you to think about. I. One thing is (and I am going to tell you four things), to keep your promise, io be consistent and decided. That is one thing. Let us look at some- thing which does not change. It helps us very much if we want to do anything steadily, to look steadily at steady things. For instance, when a man is steer- ing a ship, he must not look at the waves, he must look at the compa.ss, or at some star ; or when a man is ploughing a furrow, he must not look close to him, but at some object at the end of the field, and then the furrow would be straight ; and if you want to walk along a plank, you must not look on the plank, you must look at the end. Do that with your soul. What is the most unchangeable thing in the world ? What ? Who is it that has not ' a shadow of turn- 60 Ver. 4 GENESIS XLIX Ver. 4. ing ' ? Do you remember who that is ? If yoii will look at James t. 17, you will find it says that God has ' not a shadow of turning ' ; and now most likely vour Biblts are open in the right place to find Hebrews xiii. 8 ; there we read of One who never changes, 'Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever '. Oh think of that. He changes not, therefore He is ' the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever '. We ought to be thankful that we have a stable God. Think how unchangeable Jesus Christ has been to you ever since you were born. II. This is one thing ; now I come to the second. You will find, if you live long enough and think about it, thiit you cannot stand, and your soul cannot stand by itself As soon as you get a vine in your garden, and you wish to make that vine a splendid tree, you bind it around something — all the little creepers must be entwined about something for that purpose, else it will not become beautiful ; and, oh ! we are all of us creepers, we cannot live and grow unless we creep. Well, let us look at Psalm lxi. 2, ' Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I '. What a pretty prayer ! ' Oh, I am a poor, weak, little girl (says one), I cannot keep my good resolutions ; oh ! ' lead me to the Rock that is higher than I,' — that is, 'Jesus Christ : He is the Hock, and He will hold me up. And I shall twine around Christ, and shall get strong, bec.uise He is strong.' I will tell you about a man who lived some time ago. When he was a boy, he was veiy passionate, and o'ten became very angry. This little boy had a very gooJ mother — -a kind, pious mother ; and this mother used to read the Bible with him every morn- ing, and she did what a great many good mothers do, when she had lead a passage she used to say to the boy, ' Let us take a verse and think of it during the day — have it for our motto for the day'. And one morn- ing, when this little bov had been in a great passion, and had been a very naughty boy indeed, when he went to read to his mother, she chose the sixty-first Psalm, and they read it together, and she said, ' Now, my dear boy, let us choose out of this Psalm a verse that shall be our text for the day ; and I think the best will be, " Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I ".' And then she ex])lained to him that Jesus Christ was ' the Rock,' and that he could not conquer his temper if he did not go to Jesus Christ for help, and if he loved Jesus Christ he would be able to con- quer himself; and he said, 'I know I shall, I am sure I shall, I will conquer myself ; I feel so different that I am sure I shall never be angry again '. But, before the breakfast was over, the little boy was in a passion ; yet when he was in that passion his text came to his mind, ' O lead me to the Rock that is higher than I ' ; and he was conquered much sooner than wa^ generally the case, because he offered up the prayer, ' O lead me to the Rock that is higher thin I ; He will conquer for irie '. That boy lived on, and had a great many troubles in life. He was a young man who was very unkindly treated. I will not tell you who it was ; but he said he found his text like a talisman' — that is, a sort of charm ; and whenever he was getting uiigiy, he thought of these words, ' Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I ; and I shall conquer '. And when that man came to lie upon his dying bed, a minister went to see him, and he said, ' What shall I read ? ' And he said, ' Oh, read the sixty-first Psalm — I owe everything to that — read it ; oh, read it on ' ; and when the minister came to the end of the second verse, — ' Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I,' — the sick man cried out, ' Stop, stop ; I can't tell you what I owe to my mother who pointi d out to me that verse when I was a little boy. She taught me to say, " Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I " ; and so I conquered.' If there is a passionate boy or girl in this church — if there is one who cannot do as he or she wishes, remember that little prayer, and say, ' Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I '. III. Now I must go on to my third point. If you are a weak character, and know it, you must not expose yourself to temptation. For instance, if you are a weak character, you must not be intimate with worldly people — you must not go and make a bad boy or girl your friend ; you will be sure to be like such a one. You n>ust not go in danger's way ; where you know there is a tempter, you must not go. Supposing a doctor came and said to you, ' Now you are a person who will very easily take a fever,' would not voutake great care not to go near a place where you knew there was a fever? Would not you be very careful ? Supposing the cholera were very bad about, and you were told you must be particularly careful what you ate or drank, for you would easily take the cholera. Would not you be careful about vour diet? I tell you, as the physician of your soul, that you are a character that will easily catch sin. Then, for God's sake, don't go near to it — to danger ; don't go in temptation's way, lest you catch that most contagious disease — sin. IV. Once more. Take good care that you have some good foundation as you are so ' unstable '. We may be easily led — take care to have a good foun- dation. Some time ago a ship was wrecked on the coast. She was riding at anchor, but she slipped her anchor, and so, drifting, ran on shore. The sea was running very high ; only a few were saved on that dreadful night ; they were saved by swimming on shore, or by getting on planks. There was one man on board ship who was as calm as possible on that terrific night. One of the sailors went to him and said, ' Uo you not know the danger ? Don't you know we have lost our anchor, and are drifting on to the shore ? Our destruction is certain.' ' Oh, I know, I know,' he replied, ' I have an anchor for the soul, a castle built upon a rock, sure and steadfast.' And it was that which gave him such stability ; because he had the anchor of the soul, he could do anything. — J.\MES Vaughan. 61 EXODUS. THE ARK OF BULRUSHES ' And when she could not longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the child therein ; and she laid it in the flags by the river's brink.' — Exodus u. 3. How many Arks are mentioned in the Bible ? With what persons were they associated, and of what ma- terial were they made ? I can think of three — Noah's Ark, made of gopher wood ; Moses' Ai'k, made of bul- rushes ; and the Aak in the Tabernacle, which we may call Aaron's Ark, made of shittim wood, overlaid with gold. These three Arks were veiy different in size, in shape, and in appearance. Noah's Ark was like a very large house, made to float as a ship on the water. Aaron's Ark was a small oblong box, plated with gold, and was carried by staves on men's shoulders. Moses' Ark, which I am now to speak of, was some- thing like a clothes-basket. I. The Appearance of the Ark. — Moses' Ark was, as I said, not a big floating house like Noah's Ai-k, but more like a good-sized clothes-basket. Pharaoh, the King of Egypt, was afraid that the children of Israel would multiply too fast, and become too many for him to manage ; so he made a cruel law, that every little boy that was bom should be cast into the river Nile, in which, if he was not drowned, he would stand a good chance of being eaten up by the croco- diles. At this time a very beautiful little boy was bom, and his Hebrew mother, when she saw that he was a goodly child, hid him in her house for three months. ' When she could not longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes.' She plaited the rushes into a sort of basket, and to keep the water out she daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put her baby into it. Would he not get very dirty and sticky with the pitch ? No doubt she lined the ark with dry leaves and linen to keep the pitch from his clothes. Might not the crocodiles bite through the basket, and make a dinner of the baby after all ? Crocodiles, it is said, do not like papyrus or bulrushes, and so she hoped her baby would be safe. II. The Inmate of the Ark — Noah's Ark was a great house, and contained Noah and his wife, his three sons, and their wives, and a whole menagerie of animals, from the elephant to the mouse. The Ark of bulrushes was no bigger than a basket, and only contained one little three months old baby. But that little baby grew up to be one of the greatest men that ever lived. He led the great host of the children of Israel through the waters of the Red Sea, and through the great and terrible wilderness to the borders of Canaan — the promised land ; he gave them, under the guidance of God, a code of wise laws for their government ; and he wrote a large part of the first five books of the Bible. He became one of the greatest men the world ever saw, after being saved in his infancy in this wonderful way fi'om I'haraoh, and the crocodiles, and the Nile. Now, what was his name ? His mother brought him to Pharaoh's daughter, and he became her son. ' And she called his name Moses' (which means 'drawn out'): 'and she Said, Because I drew him out of the water.' III. The Safety of the Inmate of the Ark.— Several persons were caring for the safety of the little baby Moses. First, there were his parents. He ' was hid three months of his parents, because they saw he weis a proper child ' (Heb. xi. 23). The word 'proper' does not mean a well-behaved and good child, though I have no doubt that little Moses was all that ; but it means a goodly or beautiful child, and they were not afraid of the king's commandment, but set it at defiance. Then there was his sister Miriam, who stood afar off to know what would be done to him. How anxi- ouslv she would watch the little Ark, and how frightened she would be if a crocodile came in sight ! Then there was Pharaoh's daughter. She came down to bathe in the Nile, and when she saw the Ark among the flags by the river-side, she sent one of her maidens to fetch it. She opened the Ark, and there was the baby ! What a start she would get ! It very naturally began to cry. Pharaoh's daughter had a kind heart, and said, ' This is one of the Hebrews' children '. Miriam was on the watch close by, and, like the clever girl she was, she said to Pharaoh's daughter, ' Shall I go and call to thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the child for thee ? ' ' Go,' said Pharaoh's daughter. And whom should Miriam bring but the little baby's own mother ! Pharaoh's daughter engaged her as nurse on the spot. We may be quite sure that she did her duty faithfully, and was a kind and tender nurse to her own dear little boy. IV. The Lesson of the Ark— Faith.— ' By faith Moses . . . was hid three months of his parents' (first in the house, and afterwards in the Ark) : ' and they were not afraid of the king's commandment.' Why ? Because they had faith in God. Pharaoh, no doubt, was a great king, but God was greater. Pharaoh was mighty, but God was AlTnighty. They believed in God though they could not see Him, and believed that He is the Rewarder of tho.se who dili- gently seek Him, so they committed their baby to God's loving care, ' as seeing Him who is invisible '. That showed great faith. 'This God is our God for fiS Ver. 3. EXODUS II Ver. 3. ever and ever,' and as He took care of little Moses, He will take care of little boys and girls to-day, whose parents put tluir trust in Him. — F. H. Robarts, Sunday Morning Talks, p. 164. The Ark of Bulrushes 'And when she could not longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the child therein ; and she laid it in the flags by the river's brink.' — Exodus ii. 3. I COULD show you that in history two baskets at least have rendered very valuable service. The first helped to save the life of Moses, the great lawgiver of Israel, when as yet he was but a little child, three months old ; the other preserved the life of Paul, the greatest Apostle, j ust at the beginning of his public ministry. Thus these baskets are well worthy of notice, and I have no doubt that if people could only find them to-day they would be considered very valuable relics. We will now try to learn a few things about the first basket — namely, the one which Jochehed, the mother of Moses, made for her boy. Moses was born in very troublous times. The Israelites were in bondage, and it was ordained by law that every little Hebrew boy who was born was to be drowned ; so that there should be no men among the Israelites in future days to resist the power of the tyrant. Jochebed thought that her little boy was far too good to be drowned. ' When she saw him that he was a goodly child, she hid him three months.' She came to the conclusion that he was a very charming baby. Your mother came to that conclusion about you, thought you were the best-looking baby she had ever seen except your brother, and so she kept awake many a nij;ht to watch over you and to nourish your tender life. The neighbours perhaps wondered what she could see in you, but she was only surprised that other people did not love you as much as she did. The mother of little Moses, like yours, saw a great deal in him worth loving, thus she hid him for three months. But it is a difficult task to hide a baby. The little darling will cry occasionally, and exercise his lungs in different ways, and Moses was as fond of that diversion, probably, as most children. Thus there was danger of the little fellow's voice being heard outside the house by the Egyptian detectives, who were constantly on the look-out for little Hebrew baby-boys. At this time people in Egypt used to make little baskets, bassinettes, and a great many other useful and ornamental articles, of 'bulrushes' — or rather the papyrus, that gi-ew abundantly on the banks of the Nile, and the various canals throughout Egypt. Probably Jochehed had made a beautiful bassinette for her little baby, but now she had to turn it to a slightly diff^erent use. She had to make a little bout of it, so she daubed it with ' slime ' — that is, either the mud of the Nile, which when quite dried be- comes waterproof, or bitumen — ' and with pitch '. What care she must have taken in doing this ! and when she had finished, how keenly she would look into all the corners and see if there was a small hole anywhere through which the water might enter ! Then, I think, she would manage to find sufficient water in some secluded spot upon which she could float the ark, and thus find out any possible leakage ; and last of all, she would put little Moses in it, and see whether it would bear him, or whether, if he turned over in his bassinette, it would topple over. Having satisfied herself on these points, and many others that would readily occur to her, I imagine her taking up the little basket and its precious hurden in the dead of night, and taking Miriam with her. She could not trust anyone else to place little Moses near the water. Miriam was only about twelve years of age ; while Amram, the father of Moses, although he had a share in hiding the child during the past three months (see Heb. xi. JJ3), had not the necessary tact to place Moses now just in the right place among the flags (or weeds) on the river's brink. Fathere are puzzled on such occasions : they cannot tell where to put babies and bassinettes ; mothers must do that, especially in a difficult case like this. Jochebed laid the little ark among the weeds and bulrushes that grew by the river's side, very near the place where she had noticed Pharaoh's daughter and her maidens take their walk after bathing. She had also heard that Pharaoh's daughter— so tradition tells us — was a married lady who, having no children of her own, was nevertheless very fond of them. Hence she put the ark just in a place where it might appear that it had drifted on the stream. She felt sure that if that royal lady but once saw her bonny babe she would be sure to love the child. So she told Miriam, 'My child, I must leave you now, for the day is dawning, but God will take care of you and your little baby brother. I have made the ark of bulrushes, for they say that crocodiles have no liking for this plant. But there are no crocodiles near this place, or Pharaoh's daughter would not so often visit it. Be.^ides, there is One above who took care of Joseph in the pit, brought him to this land and made a ruler of him. That God will take care of your brother, and — who shall tell ! — perhaps He will make another ruler of him, and a deliverer of His people.' Many were the instructions given to the child how she should watch afar off, and yet be near enough to hear and see, and what she should say to anyone who might find the child ; and then a silent prayer from a mother's heart would ascend to heaven for the two children as she kissed them and bade them a fond adieu in the dai'kness of that night. You know the history : ' And the daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river ; and her maidens walked along by the river-side ; and she saw the ark among the flags, and sent her handmaid to 63 Ver. 11. EXODUS II Ver. 11. fetch it. And she opened it and saw the child ; and behold the babe wept ' — the old trick of babies, and much honoured in the observance to-day — ' and she had compassion on him, and said, This is one of the Hebrews' children '. This was just what the mother of the child had expected. Miriam, finding that her mother's anticipation was fulfilled, was encouraged now to draw near, and do just what her mother had told her. She thought she knew a capital nurse for Moses, and said to Pharaoh's daughter, 'Shall I go and call thee a nurse of the Hebrew women, that she may nurse the child for thee?' She felt that no one could nurse a Hebrew child like a Hebrew mother — and especially one mother she knew. You know the result : how Miriam was sent and Jochebed was per- mitted to nurse her own baby-boy, and was paid good wages for her trouble. Ah ! Jochebed was quite right. It was by faith that she had hid her child, and when she put Moses in the ark of bulrushes, and placed that ark on the liver's brink beneath the heaven of God, she knew that not only Miriam, but also Gnd Himself, would watch over that child. God wanted a man who would be the deliverer of His people from bondage, one who should give to them His law, and lead them through the wilderness Canaanward ; hence that little basket of bulrushes was to Him a special trust. The mother's fondest hopes were far more than ful- filled in that child's life ; and little did Miriam realise how great that little child was to become. Thus the story of a little basket, made by a mother's loving hand and daubed with mud and jiitch, in humble .style, is the story of a mother's love, and a sister's watchful care, being honoured of God by a wonderful deliverance. Now, the God who took care of little Moses amid the many dangers by which he was surrounded, takes care of you, will suffer no evil to befall you and no plague to come nigh your dwelling. Probably He shelters you with a father's care, a mother's love, and a sister's or brother's sympathy, but in any case he watches over you Himself, and with such a Guardian what have you to fear ! — David Davies, Talks with Men, Women, and Children (1st Series), p. 97. TO THE RESCUE I ' And it came to pass in those days, when Moses was grown, that he went out unto his brethren, and looked on their burdens ; and he spied an Egyptian smiting an Hebrew, one of his brethren.' — Exodus ii. ii. I. You all know the story of Moses : how, when he was quite a little fellow, about three months old, and unable to do anything for himself, he was nearly killed by a cruel king ; and how his mother and his sister managed to save him in the ark of bulrushes, how they got him even into the house of Pharaoh the king, and how he was brought up and cared for as the son of the king's daughter. It is a wonderful and delightful story, and we should like to know a good deal more about the childhood and boyhood of Moses. He grew up to be a great writer : there is npt a better story-teller in the Bible. How splendidly could he have told the story of his own childhood I One wishes he had told us something about his school, about his masters, and what lessons he had ; but he has not done so, we can only guess. We know thi.s, that he had a very good schooling, and grew up to be a very learned man ; and the point of my text for you children is this : There came a time when Moses was grown up, a time when he came out and looked upon the world for himself; and what he saw was a very sad sight. He saw the Hebrews, his own brethren, his countrymen, in slavery — poor slaves, half-naked, badly fed, and brutally used. And this thing was brought before him in a very striking manner. For on the first day when he seems to have gone out, he saw an Egyptian actually smiting a Hebrew, and the blood of Moses boiled at the thought that this Egyptian should be smiting one of his own countrymen. He did very wrong in killing the Egyptian : that was a thing he had no dght to do ; but the question came to him something in this way. What was he to do in the matter? Was he to go and live in Pharaoh's palace, having an easy, soft life for himself and never lifting a little finger to help his own people ? Well, he might have argued a good deal on that side. He might have said, ' What can I do ? I am only one, and I am not very clever, as one should be who seeks to lead men.' He was not a good speaker ; words did not come quickly to Moses ; he could not make moving speeches to the people ; he stuttered and stammered and was slow in speech, and that generally makes people rather timid and shy. And so he might have said, ' What can / do ? am I to go and rise against Pharaoh to help the.ie people ? ' He might have .said that, but somehow he didn't. Per- haps he knew the story of how he had been saved ; of how he had been put in the ark of bulrushes by his mother and sister, who risked their lives to save him. And that, I think, was burning in the heart of Moses. His heart was so full of pity for his poor countrymen who had no ark to save the')n ; and he felt so sorry for them, that, for their sakes, Mo.ses gave up everything that he had in life — every hope and every prospect, — came out of the palace, gave up his honourable place, gave up his hopes of office, gave up his easy life, gave up everything, in order that he might help and serve his countrymen. II. He had a great Work to do. — He was able to take these people out of Egypt and lead them for forty years in the wilderness, and lead them to the borders of the Holy Land ; and God helped him, to do it. ' He lived as one seeing the Invisible ' (Heb. XI. 27). He always felt as if God were quite close to him ; and though of course he couldn't see God, he felt that God was near. He was strong and brave and noble because he always felt that God was there, close to him. III. Well, now, what has all this got to do with you boys and girls who live to-day ? Oh, it has a great deal to do with you ! You, like Moses^you, too — are being greatly cared for ; there is nothing 64 Ver. 12. EXODUS II., Ill Ver. 3. that is good for you but you have it ; you have a great deal of kindness and love, more than any of you know. You will only know it in some future time, when vou come to love as you have been loved. Moses was educated, and so are you being educated. Poor boys, the poorest in London, go to our Board Schools, where they are educated better than kings and princes used to be a few hundred years ago. Why, the very nobility could not read their own names. But you have a lot of love and care ; and the day will come when you will be grown up ; and you will, like Moses, go out and look aiound you ; and you will see a great deal of wrong and cruelty in Hie. " And my question to you is this. What will you, do when you are grown up, when you see the wrongs of the world ? Will you help the Egyptian or the Hebrew ? Will you help the oppressor or the op- pressed ? Will you swell the army of the devil, or will you swell the army of God ? Will the world be better for you, or will it be worse ? One of the two it is going to be. There are boys and girls in homes to-day — mind, not in low bad homes, but in nice beautiful homes — they are growing up, they are being educated, they read books, they have presents given them, and all that love can do is being done for them ; and yet, when they grow up, they will choose to be bad men and women. The world will be sadder because of them. Now, what are you, going to do ? What are you going to be ? Are you thinking about it ? Have you made up your minds which class you will join ? Have you said, ' With God's grace in our hearts we will help the oppressed ; we will help to make this world brighter, more like God and heaven ; we will not add a finger's weight to the burden pressing men down ? ' Just ask God to help )'ou. Try to live as always in God's presence ; and He will raise up some of you and make you great men and women, and the world will be better for you. As long as this world lasts it will be better for what Moses did. Try you to belong to the number of those who will make the world of men and women happier and better, nobler and holier, as long as it lasts. Those that turn many to righteousness, they shall be as stars for ever — shining always — always giving light, and always being beautiful. God help you now, while you are young, to have great thoughts in your minds, to nurse great hopes in your hearts, and to pray great prayers to God, so that you shall belong to the noble men and women, the saviours of the world and not its destroyers. — J. IMorgan Gibbon, In the Days of Youth, p. 1. THE WAY BETWEEN 'And he looked this way and that way, and when he saw that there was no man, he slew (R.V. smote) the Egyptian, and hid him in the sand.' — Exodus ii. 12. ' He looked this way and that way, and when he saw no man ' — then he did it ! Isn't that the way you act when you are going to do something wrong? You look this way and that way, to see if anyone is looking. Then you may be sure of it, when you begin to look this way and that way to see if any- body is watching, you are very likely going to do something wrong. A bad conscience always looks this way and that way ; a good conscience doesn't, it just does what is right, and doesn't mind whether people see it or not ! Remember then it is not wise to look this way or that way unless you also look that way — upward — to God. God sees you even when no one else does, and this man found that out before very long. God saw what he had done, and God sent him into banishment for forty years for what he did then. That is a long time, forty years ; but then sin is a very serious matter with. God. Remember then, when you are tempted to look only this way or that way to see if anybody sees you, that you haven't looked the right way until you have looked up to God! Think well of this also — you can't hide a sin. What did this man do ? ' He slew the Egyptian, and hid him in the sand.' Weil, he couldn't hide anything he had done better than that, could he ? If you saw ground dug up here or there, you might suspect something was wrong ; but the sand — why, the sand is just like the sea, you can't make out one place upon it more than another : it is all alike. Yes ; but what happened ? Only two days after- wards, when this man who had killed the other was walking about, he saw two men having a fight, and he went up to separate them ; then one of them turned round on him, and said, 'Oh ! I suppose you are going to kill me like as you did the other man ! ' It was j ust as if the dead man had spoken to him I He thought he had concealed his sin so well that it would never be found out ; and yet it was now plain that people knew about it ! No ; you can never hide a sin. This person and that person may not find it out, but God knows all about it, and God one day is going to blow away the sand and show what you have hidden beneath it. Doesn't it make you afraid to sin ? It does me. Now though people have come to be very old and very wise, and to know many things, they have never found out any other way of keeping from sin than this — by loving Jesus very much. Try to do this ; try to love Jesus very much, then you will never be afraid to look that way — upward ; for you will like to do that, for you will know that Jesus is looking on you and loving you. — J. Reid Howatt, The Ghurcheite, p. 245. THE BURNING BUSH ' I will now turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.' — Exodus in. 3. ' The good will of Him that dwelt in the bush.' — Deuteronomy XXXIII. i6. Here we have the greatest teacher, a great scholar, a great sight, and a great truth. You are a scholar of God as Moses was — the big bell has rung for you, 65 5 Ver. 3. EXODUS III Ver. 3. and God has called you too by name ; and a good scholar you shall be if you have Moses' spirit. His attention was splendid. He looked and looked again ; he halted ; he turned aside ; he stood still ; he filled eyes and mind with the amazing object ; he pondered it in his heart. The first word for soldiers and scholars is attention. The word means a stretching forth towards, as of the little nestlings when they crane their necks over the etlge of the nest for their food. The true scholar continues attending, for great truths are [Printed upon our minds as pictures are printed upon paper by chi'omolithograph. Each colour is printed by itself, so that there are some fourteen printings before the whole picture is conveyed to the paper. In the same way it takes time to impress any great truth upon our mind.s. Ideas are like chemicals : they need time and heat to tell. It is astonishing how much any child can learn when he attends with patience. The pity is that the preacher would often need to find words and ears too, for the heart is apt to play truant when God is the teacher. Wonder and curiosity were strong in Moses as he said, ' I will now turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt '. The Bible invites you into a wonderland of grace and truth. Thoughtful wonder is the mother of knowledge : it moves you, as it moved Mosrs, to ask the reason why. Far seen across the sandy wild, Where, like a solitary child, He thoughtless roam'd and free ; One towering thorn was wrapt in flame — Bright without blaze it went and came : Who would not turn and see.' Holy fear was strong in Moses as he put off his shoes from off his feet (ver. 5). To go barefoot in the East is a mark of humility. The shepherd talks with God apart, And, as he talks, adores. When you are learning the great things of God and the soul, you too are on holy gi'ound, and should then put off the sandals of the soul — those soiled thoughts that come to our spu-its from touching the world. And do not draw too near: have the sweet awe that fears to profane holy things. Some folks have little reverence, and come too near the mystic bush, so that their finer feelings are blackened and scorched by the fu-e. They grow rudely familiar with things divine. Humble obedience was the fruit in Moses of this great object-lesson, for, at God's bidding, he went straight from the bush to Pharaoh. You learn all your lessons ill unless they make you obedient to the voice of God. If you have these four marks — attention, wonder, holy fear, and humble obedience — you may claim to be among the schoolfellows of Moses ; and like him, with your eyes full upon it, you will learn the lessons cf the burning bush. Make this bush, then, the home of your thoughts. It is the first plant-emblem of the Jewish people as a whole. Let us consider. I. The Bush. II. The Bush burning. III. The Bush unburnt. I. The Bush. — It was one of the common stunted growths you may see to-day in the desert : some root out of a dry ground ; a bramble-bush, or heath, or thorny acacia, or tamarisk ; one of the humblest of living shrubs, quite unlike the cedar, the oak, or the palm. And this child of the de.sert, without stateliness or grace, is a picture of the cause of God and Church of Christ, so far as the outward eye can see. How small the Church in Egypt then was com- pared with Egy])t's idolatry. The Egypt of that day has been made to live before us by famous discoveries, and by books like those of Dr. Ebers, which wonder- fully light up some pages of the Bible. In the museum at Cairo, the Pharaohs, with whom the Israelites had to do, grin at you from their munnny-cases. You may see their photos in the shop windows. Egypt's idol temples were then, as they still are in their ruins, among the wonders of the world, and enormously rich. Their idol-worship was most gorgeous, and upheld by all the power of the State. Jehovah's worship by its side was like a solitary heath-bush in a forest of the cedars of Lebanon. What a very small cause Christ's seemed when He died on the cross ! How majestically Pagan Rome overshadowed it! During the first three centuries there are only some ten or twelve short and scornful notices of Christ's Church in all the books of heathen writei-s ; and yet soon after that the Church hurled heathen Rome from its throne, and conquered the world. II. The Bush Burning. — 'The bush burned with fire ' (ver. 2) , that is, it burned fiercely with real fire. It was no make-believe or pictured flame ; the bush was steeped in fire. Horeb means ' dry,' that is, the parched desert. The shrubs there are good for burn- ing, and in summer they are like tinder. Almost the only trade there to-day is in charcoal, which the Arabs make out of such bushes as Moses saw. The Bedawin of Sinai have to pay their taxes to the Egyptian Government in charcoal. This is the only coal known in Bible lands, and the making of it is now, as it always has been, a very important industry. In some places the Arabs have no other way of earn- ing money, and one village is called 'the mother of charcoal '. Small pieces of it are burnt on a brazier. It was around such ' a fire of coals ' that Peter and the servants of the high priest sat when he denied the Lord. It is to these David refers when he speaks of ' coals of juniper '. The traveller often meets Arabs on their way to Alexandria leading camels laden with charcoal ; and he has to take care lest the bulky burdens on the camels' sides should come too near him. The blazing fire in the bush was a symbol of the fierce persecution of Israel by Pharaoh ; for God says (ver. 7), ' I have surely seen the affliction of My people '. Men often speak of the fires of persecution. 66 Ver. 3. EXODUS III Ver. 3. The burniiif;' bush is thus the emblem of many churches of the martvi's. Sometimes the words are added, Ardens sed virens — ' Flaming, yet flourish- ing' ; or more frequently. Nee tainen consmnebatwr — ' Yet it was not consumed '. The same idea is re- presented by one of the emblems of the Waldensian Church, which is the lily among thorns — a lily untorn and undeflowered amid the thorns that threaten to destroy it. III. The Bush Unburnt ' The bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed.' Like the sun above him, it blazed, but was unconsumed. This is the great miracle of history. Egypt, Persia, Tyre, Rome — all the great nations of antiquity have been burnt down, but the bush lives. Yet thousands of times it has seemed utterly impossible that the Chm'ch could live ; and yet it lives to-day, is larger than it ever was, and is spreading over the world. All the forces of evil have done their worst against it, and have failed. And more than that, the blood of the martyrs has been the seed of the Church. Their holy heroism has left a strong cheering light upon the paths of men. When the fires of persecution had, to all seeming, burnt the bush to the ground, it arose again, like the fabled phoenix, from its ashes. Some believe that the bush not burning is the bush consumed. Sn)iles, in his book about the Huguenots, tells how an aged French Christian assured him that the Christianity of French Protestants would never be worth much till it had been again refined by the fires of persecution. VVhen Julian, the Roman Emperor, was doing his utmost to overthrow the Church, and erect the idols upon its ruins, the rhetorician Libanus, the friend of Julian, in scorn asked a Christian, ' What is your Carpenter of Nazareth doing now ? ' ' He is making a coffin,' was the quiet reply. Ere long Julian was in the coffin, and all the idols he had set up were swept away. It is said that with his d3'ing breath he cried out, ' O Galilean ! thou has conquered '. 'The good will of Him who dwelt in the bush ' is the reason why the burning bush is unburnt. 'God is in the midst of her ; she shall not be moved ; God shall help her, and that right early ' (Ps. xlvi. 5). Christ has said, ' Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world '. These words should calm our fears, and should make us hopeful of the future of Christ's cause on the earth. Surely God's side must be the winning side. We should sow broadcast the good seed in faith. You may count the acorns on the oak, but you cannot count the oaks that may be in the acorn : you may know how many apples are on a tree, but you can never know how many trees are in the apple. Thank God that a little child may share all the good things of this great kingdom, and do something to spread it throughout the world. The visible Church in David's day was laden with many imperfections, yet David greatly loved it, and did his best for it. The visible Church in Paul's day was very far from what it should have been, yet Paul strove to make it worthier of its name ; and so you, as you grow up, should gladly give what help you can to the sacred society that Christ has planted in the world. But you belong to the Church only in name, unless you behave like Moses before the burn- ing bush. God gives us his biography in three words, ' Moses, my servant '. Like Moses, listen to God, choose God in youth, and remain faithful unto death. — James Wells, Bible Object- Lessons, p. 37. THE GREAT SIGHT {For Good Friday) ' I will now turn aside, and see this great sight.' — Exodus hi. 3. I WANT each one of you to echo these words, and say to himself, '/ will now turn aside, and see this great sight '. Turn aside from what ? From the thoughts and works of the world, from the cares and pleasures of the day ; and to see what great sight ? The greatest, the most wonderful, the most glorious, and yet the most terrible of sights. Do you know why this is called Good Friday ? Because it is the day when Jesus Christ died on the cross. This is the great sight which I want to turn aside and see, Jesus c: - jiig on the cross. Try to turn your thoughts aside from the world, from your work, from your play, and fix them upon the dying Son of God. Where must we look upon this great sight ? We must turn our thoughts to a spot outside the gates of Jerusalem, a slightly rising ground, called, probably from its shape, Golgotha, the place of a skull. This is the great sight which I would have you look upon. I. It is a great sight because it shows us a great mystery. God knows all things, and can do all things in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, yet He al- lowed the world to go on sinning for ages till He sent a Saviour to redeem it. Then whom did He send ? Greater mystery still. He sent His own Son into the world, to take our nature, to be like us, only without sin ; and more mysterious still, although Jesus was without sin, yet He suffered for sin, and died for sin, but not for His own. The whole world was lying in wickedness, and the wages of sin is death. All men have been, and still are bom in sin, and all had com- mitted sin, and so sentence of death had been pro- nounced on all. Jesus redeemed the world from that sentence by dying Himself, the Just for the unjust. Here then is a great mystery. II. Again, it is a great sight on which we look to- day, because in it all the prophecies are fulfilled. Jesus, the seed of the woman, has bruised the head of the serpent, that old serpent the Devil, by conquer- ing the power of sin ; now in Jesas, the seed of Abra- ham, all the nations of the earth ai'e blessed. The star, which Balaam foretold, has come out of Jacob, and the sceptre has arisen out of Israel. The familiar friend in whom He trusted, has lifted up his heel 67 Ver. 3. EXODUS XX Ver. 8. against Jesus, as David long ago foretold. As Isaiah prophesied, the eyes of the blind have been opened, and the ears of the deaf have been unstopped ; Jesus has been despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. He has been wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His stripes we have been healed. As said the Prophet Z.ach- ariah, the King has come to the daughter of Zion, lowly, and riding upon an ass ; and they have weighed for His price thirty pieces of silver, and they have looked on Him whom they pierced. They have parted His garments among them, and cast lots upon His vesture ; He has made His grave with the wicked, and with the rich in His death — for we know they laid Him in the rich man's sepulchre — all has been fulfilled which God spake by the mouth of His holy Prophets, which have been since the world began. in. Again, this is a great sight, because in it all the types of Jesus are fulfilled. I have told you that many persons and things in the Old Testa- ment are types, or signs, or shadows of our Lord. As in Adam all men die, so Jesus has become the Second Adam, in whom all are made alive. Jesus, the true Noah, has brought an Ark to save us from the flood of sin, even His holy Church. Jesus, the true Isaac, has been born the Child ot Promise, and been obedient unto death, and carried the wood for His own sacrifice, unto the mount of death. Jesus has come as the true Melchizedek, a Priest, a Prophet, and King, the King of Peace ; He, the true Joseph, the dearly beloved Son, has been hated of His brethren, to whom He has been sent. He, the true Joshua (Joshua and Jesus are the same name, and mean Saviour), has led us to victory against our enemy ; He, the Captain of our Salvation, will carry us across the Jordan of death to the good land of Paradise beyond. Jesus, the ti'ue David, has conquered Satan, the giant of wickedness ; and now, as the Good Shep- herd, He leads His people through green pastures, and beside still waters. As we turn aside now to see this great sight, let us remember two things, first, that Jesus died for sin, and that all sin is therefore hateful to Him ; and next that Jesus still lives to pardon us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Believe that every sin wilfully committed is like a fresh nail in His dear hands and feet, a fi-esh thorn in His dear brow. Try to get the better of your sins, not from fear of punish- ment, but from love to Him Who suffered and died upon the cross that He might redeem us by His Precious Blood. THE GODS OF THE HEATHEN ' Thou Shalt have no other gods but Me.' — Exodus xx. 3. ' Little children, keep yourselves from idols.' — i John v. 21. ' PROFEssrsG themselves to be wise, they became fools, and changed the glory of the uncorruptible God into an image made like to coiTuptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things ' (Rom. i. 22, 23). It is thus that St Paul spoke of the most I'.arned and civilised men of his age, the Romans, the Athenians, and the Egyptians. It is a well-known fact that the nations who did not enjoy the blessings of the Gospel have always shown, whatever may have been their knowledge in science, art, or literature, a wonderful ignorance concerning religion. The Egyp- tians worshipped an ox, the Persians the fire, and the Greeks and the Romans admitted a multitude of divinities, who, jealous of each other, quarrelled per- petually, and committed the most fearful crime.s. Up to the present day, six hundred millions of heathens in the world know no better, and the idols they worship are really monstrous. I. How can we wonder, when we come to think over all the follies of idolatry, that the prophets and the people of Israel should have laughed and scoffed at idols and at their worshippers. You all remember the story of Elijah upon the Mount Carmel, and how he mocked the prophets of Baal who called in vain to their god to bring down the fire of heaven upon their altar. ' Cry louder,' he said, ' either he is talking, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he sleepeth.' And the priests cried aloud, and cut themselves with knives till the blood gushed out upon them. And later, another prophet, Isaiah, to prove the folly of idolatry, describes in jest the making of an idol. A man, he says, heweth a tree in a forest. He will burn part of it and warm himself; with another part, he eateth flesh, he roasteth meat and is satisfied. He warmeth himself and saith, ' Aha, I am warm, I have seen the fire '. And with the residue thereof he maketh a god, his graven image ; he falleth down unto it, and worshippeth it, and prayeth unto it, and saith, ' Deliver me, for thou art my God ' (Is. xliv. 15, 16). The words of Isaiah put me in mind of a little girl in one of the missionary schools in India. One day that the children had been repeating the second commandment, 'Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image,' etc., etc., she suddenly exclaimed, ' Oh ! how foolish to worship idols ! There is a large one at home, sitting with its legs crossed, and its eyes shut, so,' and the child assumed the posture she was describing. ' However loud we speak, it never hears or answers. My grandfather and my grandmother say that it is holy, but I can see nothing in it but an old and ugly piece of wood, covered with dirty paintings.' "The other children tried to stop her, but she went on. ' As for myself, I shall love and serve the God whose eyes see through darkness, who can read in our hearts.' II. But, although there is no harm in laughing at idols, still we ought to feel the deepest pity for the poor people who know no better, as their ignoiance deprives them of so much happiness. You have parents who love you dearly and watch over you with constant care ; you feel safe in their love, and you like to look at their picture as it lies in its pretty frame on youi- little work-table. Now, fancy a child whose parents would have been as full of solicitude 68 Ver. 3. EXODUS XX Ver. 1. and of tenderness as yours have been, who would have gone through many privations to bring him up ; but it happens that he has never seen them, and that they have even been represented to him as gloomy and exacting ; instead of hearing of their love, people have told him that they were malignant and hard. Poor child, what treasures of tenderness he loses ! He will never know either the sweetness of home or the comfort of pouring his troubles into an affectionate heart. His own heart, which the slightest token of love would have made so light, is oppressed by a feeling of loneli- ness ; his life, which might have been easy and pleasant, is daik and gloomy. Well, the poor heathens who live in ignorance, and to whom nobody has ever spoken of Jesus and of the great love God has shown towards us, are like the child I was speaking of It is not on that account alone that they deserve your pity, but also because the worship of such gods keeps them in a most shameful state of corruption and de- gradation. HI. But pity is not enough, we must also help them to shake off the yoke which keeps them down. It is not enough to declare war against their gods, we must also teach them to love our God. It is the work of our' missionaries, and which amongst you will be one of them ? Who can say whether some of the lads who listen to my words will not some day devote their lives to the good work ? Oh, if my voice could kindle in your hearts the ambition of becoming soldiers of Christ ! I know of no higher calling, as none requires more self-denial, more per- sonal courage, and more love. Veal's ago a collection for the missions was being made on a Sunday at the door of a church in Eng- land. There went by many rich people who threw both gold and silver into the plate, just as in the time of Jesus at the door of the temple at Jerusalem. There came last a poor little boy, who had not a farthing of his own ; and when the crowd had gone by, he called out to the collector, 'Hold the plate lower, please, lower still ! ' ' Why so ? ' inquired the man. ' Because, as I have neither gold nor silver, I mean to give myself up to the missions.' And the boy who had spoken these words became a great mis- sionaiy. Does not his example move your hearts ? A missionary, called Schwartz, had spent thirty years among the Indians, without reaping any fruit of his labours. He was lying upon his death-bed, satisfied to receive in heaven the rewai'd which had been denied to him upon the earth, and praying God that another might reap where he had sown. Sud- denly an Indian chief, whose hatred for the missionary was well known, entered the cabin. ' Say your prayers, for you are going to die,' said the savage man, lifting his tomahawk above the dying man's head. Schwartz began to pray, his face already full of heavenly peace, and in this, his last prayer, he did not forget the enemy who was threatening his life. Biit, () wonder, these words of love and forgive- ness melted the heart of the murderer, the tomahawk slipped from his hand, and kneeling by the bedside of the missionary, he enti-eated to be instructed in a re- ligion which enabled a man to die with such feelings. He received the Gospel, and the whole tribe with him, so that Schwartz appeared before the throne of God carrying, as a crown of glory, the conversion of a whole tribe. IV. And now I shall add a few words about your- selves. It is not enough to assist the missionaries in their war against the gods of the poor foolish savages ; we must also wrestle with our own idols, for although you may not be aware of it, we are all more or less heathens. Our heart is like a sort of Pantheon, in which we have secretly enshrined our idols. After all, an idol is not always a stone or a piece of wood ; it may be a particular taste or a liking which leads us to forget our duties. Look at that little boy, who, thinking only of his pleasure, has laid his book and his basket upon one of the seats in the public garden, and plays with his top instead of going to school. He worships his favourite idol, the top. And that other boy, who has spent all his pocket money at the pastrycooks, and has hidden himself from his parents to eat so many cakes and sweetmeats that he will be ill to-morrow, is he not worshipping his favourite idol, the cake ? And that httle girl who stays in bed every morning becxiuse it is so pleasant, and who, when already half-awake, shuts her eyes again, turns on the other side and goes to sleep again, so that she has to be called at least ten times, don't you think that she worships an idol, her pillow ? I must not forget the idol which finds the greatest number of worshippers, either among men or among children. It is the idol self. ' Me ' is the god of those who neither like to give nor to lend, and of the children who set their own pleasure or their own com- fort above that of others. It is to that little word that we owe the frequent use of the possessive adjec- tives which begin with the letter M. My place, my things, my pleasure. It has for initial letter a large gold M, twined with wreaths, which we find repeated on all the things belonging to it, M M M, and so on. We have given it the best place in our hearts, where we bring to it our tribute of incense and adoration. Oh, let our motto be, ' War against idols, war without mercy, war against selfishness, idleness, carelessness '. Let God alone be the sole master of our hearts, and of our families, as He is of the whole world. — A. Decoppet, Sermons for Chil- dren, p. 128. ' Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.' — Exodus xx. 7. James Vaughan of Brighton told this story in one of his sermons to children : — Benjamin Field, a well-known clergyman, was stay- ing at a Brighton boarding-house. 'At ilinner, at the boarding-house, a young officer in the army swore. At the dinner table Mr. Field took no notice at all. He waited his opportunity. In the evening, when Mr. Field came in from his walk, he found this young man alone in the di-awing-room. He said to him 69 Ver. 8. EXODUS XX Ver. 8. "Sir, you hurt my feelings very much at dinner". The young gentleman said, " Did I ? I am exceed- ingly sorry. I don't know what you refer to. Did I speak of a friend of yours in a way you did not like ? " "That is exactly what you did," Mr. Field replied, " you spoke of my greatest friend in a way I did not like at all. You swore. And God is my greatest friend. And you spoke of my greatest friend in a way that pained me very much, and pained Him." Mr. Field talked to this young man a great deal ; and he asked Mr. P'ield before he left the room, to pray that God would forgive him, and he did so ; and every day, while Mr. Field stayed at Brighton, he went up to that young man's bedroom in the morning of the day, and prayed with him. That was the way to reprove him. The result was, I believe, that young man was converted, turned to God by Mr. Field reproving him for swearing.' ' Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.' — Exodus xx. 8. ' May we lie in bed on the Sunday morning ? Do you think we may have a longer lie ? ' I do, especially if we have been working our bodies. I am quite sure if anybody has been working very very hard during the week, he has a right to lie longer in bed on Sunday. His body wants rest. I do not see any objection myself to most people lying in bed a little longer on Sunday morning. Most people like it. It makes the Sunday happier, perhaps. I should advise it. At the same time I must say if any boy or girl would feel, ' I should like to get up very early on Sunday morning to read about Jesus Christ, and read good works,' if any boy or girl feels that, I would say, ' Blessed boy or girl ! ' I envy that boy or girl. Well done, boy or girl ! who says, ' I want to get up, and think and read about Jesus Christ'. Happy boy ! happy girl ! That is best of all. — James Vaughan, Sermons to Children (4th Series), p. 183. THE PEARL OF DAYS Exodus xx. 8. It would be difficult to say which is God's best gift to men, next to the gift of His Son, and the gift of His Spirit, and the gift of His Word. I dare say if you were to try to make out a list of the gifts of God, arranging them according to their value, it would be very difficult to know in what order to put them down, there are so many of them which are so very good ; and as for making a full and correct list of them, I suspect we should never get to the end of it. I wish now to speak to you about one of these gifts of God. It is well to be often thinking and often speaking to each other about what God gives us, that we may love Him more, and be ever seeking to make a better use of His gifts. I am not at all sure that many of you v. ould name, among the foremost of our good things, the one which I am now to speak about. And yet, if we could get the opinion of all the good on earth, and of all the saints in heaven, we should have millions upon millions of voices sounding forth its praises, and thanking God for it, as one of His greatest blessings to the sons of men. Some of God's people have loved it so well, that they have lived for it, laboured for it, written for it, suffered for it, died for it. One of these lies in the Grange Cemetery in Edinburgh, not far from the spot where Dr. Chalmers and other great and good men are buried. On the beautiful block of granite which marks his grave — just as on a soldier's tombstone would be engi-aved the name of the battle- field where he fought and fell — you find, besides his honoured name, the simple inscription of what is now to be my text : — ' In memory of Sir Andrew Agnew, Bart., of Loch- naw, born 21st March, 1793, died 12th April, 1850 — " Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy ".' This single line may be regarded as this Christian champion's motto, which you would do well to study.^ From this you will gather that the gift to which I refer is the Sabbath. Not many years ago this formed the subject of a number of prize essays, written by working men, who all sought to recommend the Sabbath to others, by telling what they themselves had seen and felt of its value. One of the essays sent in was found to have been written by a young working woman, and was aftei-wards published and dedicated to Queen Victoria, with this beautiful title — ' The Pearl of Days '. I now take that as the title of this address, and shall try to show you that the name is well applied to the Sabbath. I have no doubt there are some days which stand out to you above all others, such as a birthday, or a Christmas or New Year's Day — some holiday which you always greatly enjoy, and would like to come round oftener than it does. Perhaps you would call one of these 'The Pearl of Days,' as prizing it above all others. And yet the Sabbath is the real ' Pearl of Days '. It should be so to you, as it is in the sight of God. Will you turn to Exodus xx. 8 : ' Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy '. I have spoken of the Sabbath as ' The Pearl of Days '. It was spoken of as the ' Prince and Sove- reign of Days ' by a good man, long ago. It might be called the ' King of Days '. I wish I could make it as beautiful and attractive to you as I would. I wish I could get you to love it, so that, instead of it being a dull, tiresome, wearisome day, and as coming after Saturday, just like passing out of bright sun- shine into a dark night — or out of a palace into a prison, it should be wearied for, all the week round, and received with songs of welcome when it comes. God meant it to be a happy day — the happiest of all the seven. He gave it to us as one of the best blessings He could bestow. When His people are recounting His various gifts to them, you find this getting a special place — 'Thou madest known to them Thy holy Sabbaths '. So He Himself says, ' I gave them My Sabbath,' as if He had given them 1 See Life of Sir A. Agnew, by Thomas M'Crie, D.D., LL.D. ro Ver. 8. EXODUS XX Ver. 8. something that did not belong to earth — something of heaven — as was indeed tlie case. Many — both old and young — have found it to be such, and have said so. We are told of one little boy, who loved his play and prized his Saturday as much as any of you, saying, ' Count up my Sundays ; tell me how many I have had in my life '. And when he was told he had had about three hundred, he exclaimed, ' Oh, how many ! How kind of God to give us so many ; and in heaven it will be all Sunday together I ' Does that thought ever fill your heart with joy ? I. Reasons for Observing the Sabbath. 1. We have God's command. This of itself should be enough for us. I sometimes hear boys, when told by a father or a mother to do such and such a thing, asking, ' Why am I to do it ? ' Now the less that word is on a boy's lips the better. If he is duti- ful and right-hearted, it will be enough for him that he has a parent's orders. I can suppose one of you saying, regarding something, ' I remember, when my father was in life, that he often told me to do this. I do not quite understand why, but I do not need to understand. It is enough for me to know that it is a right thing, and that he bade me. I have such love and respect for him, that I need no more than to have his command or wish ; and though he has long been in his grave, I .shall do it.' And so it may well be, in regard to anything your Heavenly Father bids or forbids you to do. He has always good reasons for what He commands, and so, whether you fully understand it or not — whether you like it or not, you are always safe to do his bidding. Now if there is one thing more than another which He is particular in commanding — it is the observance of the Sabbath. You hear His majestic voice again and again repeating, ' Ye shall keep My Sabbaths '. On these tables of stone, written with God's own finger, and binding upon all men to the world's end, you read the inscription, ' Remember the Sabbathday, to keep it holy '. And if anyone should ask you why you observe the Sabbath, it should be enough to answer ' God commands it '. The whole of the Ten Commandments must stand or fall together. They are all equally binding, for all the world and for all time. None of them has ever been done away with. So long as it is God's command to have no other god before Him — not to worship Him by images— not to take His name in vain — -not to dishonour parents — not to kill, or be impure, or steal, or lie, or covet, — so long is it God's command 'to remember the Sabbathday, to keep it holy '. God thus surrounds ' The Pearl of Days ' with the guard of His law. 2. We have God's exam,ple. He acts towards His children as other wise and kind parents do. He does Himself what He bids us do. When He says to us, 'Be merciful,' it is added, 'even as yom- Father who is in heaven is merciful '. In like manner, when the Lord Jesus says ' Forgive,' He also says, ' even as I also have forgiven you '. You remember how He taught His disciples the lesson of humility and kind- ness. He not only said, ' Be humble and kind to each other. Do not think it beneath you to do anything for each other's good. Do not be always quaiTelling as to which of you is to be the greatest.' Nay, but He took a towel and girded Himself, and poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel saying, ' I have given you an exam.2de, that ye should do as I have done to you '. He knew there was no way of teaching like that. 3. God claims it as His own day. I said the Sabbath was God's gift to men, and yet He gave it with a view to certain great purposes being served by it, and He still retains the right to say how men are to use it. Hence He calls it ' the Sabbath of the Lord thy God ' ; 'My Sabbath ' ; 'My holy day ' ; ' the Lord's Day '. And when it is used for other purposes than those for which it was given, it is an abuse of His gift — it is robbing Him of His right. You would be indignant if anyone were to say you were a thief. And yet the Sabbath-breaker is a thief, in the sense that he turns God's day to a use different from that for which it was given. All the other days of the week He has given to men, to attend more especially to the things of this life. He says, ' Si.x days shalt thou labour and do all thy work '. And yet with all the other six days of the week for such purposes, some people will en- croach upon the seventh, and make it just like the rest 4. God is pleased and honoured by the keeping of it. God is very jealous of His honour, and when He has given His command and example, and set forth His claim, His honour must needs be concerned in the matter. And so it is expressly said, ' If thou call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable, and shalt honour Him '. How He com- plains of Israel for having ' polluted His Sabbath,' one of the things for which He sent them into cap- tivity. On the other hand, how He commended those who kept His day : ' Thus saith the Lord, Unto those that keep My Sabbath, and choose the things that please Me, I will give a name and a place within My house better than of sons and of daughters '. What you will do to please and honour a father or mother ! And you can hardly do too much in that way. You tell us what they have done for you, and how deserving they are of all the love anJ honour you can show them. And will you not seek to please and honour God in His own way ? 5. It is a memorial of a completed creation work and of Christ s Resurrection. Up to the time of Christ the Sabbath was the great memorial of God's finishing the work of creation. Was not such an event worthy of being kept in mind ? What a wonderful and beautiful world we live in ! Its mountain scenery, its lakes and rivers, its glens with ferns and other wild plants, its meadows strewn over with flowers, to which the richest carpet is not to be compared, the fruits and flowers of the 71 Ver. 8. EXODUS XX Ver. 8. garden in such endless variety — the whole vegetable worid from the gigantic trees of the forest down to the tiny moss or lichen— the mineral world, with such untold treasures buried in the heart of the earth — the animal world, from the monsters of the deep and of the land, down to the almost invisible creatures that crowd in a drop of water, and man, the most wonderful of all — -the heavenly bodies — sun and moon and stars — worlds upon worlds outside of our own — ■ our Father made them all — they are all His handi- work. When any great enterprise is finished now — a rail- way, or a canal, or a bridge, or a public building, or waterworks for a crowded city — how the event is celebrated and the commemorative tablet is erected, and other reminders of it abound I I suppose the finishing of the Forth Bridge, as a marvel of engineer- ing skill, will be thus kept in remembrance. The almanac of future years will record 'The Forth Bridge finished ' — on such a day. And shall a finished creation have nothing specially to remind men of it ? The Sabbath does so every week, and will continue to do so till the end of time. It says, ' God made the worlds — remember Him as the great and wise and good Creator of all things '. Well may such a day be remembered and observed. We see with what earnestness and enthusiasm other memorial days are observed. I might refer to many instances. A few will suffice. On the 18th June, 1815, the great battle of Waterloo was fought, which decided the destinies of Europe. Success crowned the British arms under the Duke of Wellington, and peace was secured between Britain and France, which has never since been broken. How that 18th of June was kept in remembrance ! how its return year after year was celebrated, till the number of surviving heroes at the Waterloo Banquet had become so small that it had to be given up I On the 1st August, 1834, liberty to the slave was proclaimed throughout the whole British dominions. On the last night of July in that memorable year, a great assembly of slaves met in a church in one of our West Indian islands. At five minutes to twelve, Mr. Clarkson, who had done so much to bring about their emancipation, rose and exclaimed, ' The monster is dying ! ' The next five minutes were spent in silence and in prayer. When the clock struck twelve, the same voice exclaimed, ' The monster is dead ! ' The joy of the people was unbounded, for from that hour no man or woman could be a slave on British soil, or on board a British ship ; and since then, the first day of August in each year has been observed as a holiday — has been regarded as the brightest day in all the year. Each time it comes round it is wel- comed with a joy peculiarly its own. It commemor- ates the achievement of freedom. On the 4th July, 1776, the United States of America a.sserted their independence and threw off the yoke of the mother-country. Since then, ' Inde- pendence Day,' as it is called, has been observed all over the American continent, and by American citi- zens all over the world. I spent the 4th of July, 1874, in the city of Boston. It was a day of universal rejoicing. The people assembled in thousands in the public park. All the places of business were closed. Flags were flying from trees and windows. Little banners, with the stais and stripes, were fastened to the horses' heads, and were carried by boys in their jacket buttonholes. That is the great day in the American year. And shall we not gladly commemorate our de- liverance— our victory— -our emancipation — the an- nouncement that the sinner's salvation was complete, by the rising of Jesus from the dead ? Shall we not remember this day on which our Redeemer arose ? Shall we ever suffer ourselves to be de]irived of a day that has such happy and hallowed associations ? Surely the Sabbath should be a happy day — a day of gladness and rejoicing — as the memorial of the Resur- rection of Jesus and of the completion of our re- demption. 6. It is a .blessed emblem and foretaste of heaven. It points back to the Paradise that was lost. It points forward to Paradise restored. It is the very name given to heaven. 'There remaineth a rest — a Sabbatism, — the keeping of a Sabbath, unto the people of God.' We think and speak of heaven as the perfection of all that is good and bright and blessed. We delight to think of our dear ones who have died in the Lord, as having gone before us to the better land. We look forward to heaven as the glorious home of all Christ's redeemed ones. And every time the Sabbath comes round, it tells of all this. 7. The keeping of it has God's blessing at- tached to it. ' The Lord blessed the Sabbath day.' He set it apart above all the other days of the w^eek as specially honourable, and He linked special bless- ing to it. God has honoured the Sabbath above all the other days of the week, and blessed temporally and spiritually those who have observed it. I have already quoted a passage from Isaiah, in which God gave this promise to those who kept His Sabbath, though despised among men, ' And the sons of the stranger who shall keep My Sabbath, even them will I bring to My holy mountain, and make them joyful in My house of prayer'. So in chapter lviil 14: ' Then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord ; and I will cause thee to ride upon the high places of the eai'th, and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy father : for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it '. What honour was put on the Sabbath in New Testament times I It was on the Sabbath that Jesus fii"st appeared to the disciples after His Resurrection. It was on the Sabbath that he joined the disciples on the road to Emmaus. It was on the Sabbath that He rejieated His visit. It was on the Sabbath that the Holy Ghost was poured out — on the day of Pentecost, converting thousands. It was on the Sabbath that Jesus revealed Himself to John on the isle of Patmos. And then what honour has since then been dcMie 72 Ver. 8. EXODUS XX Ver. 8. to the Sabbath, and what a blessino; has come to men in connection with it ! What a birtliday of souls it has been ! How many have to count their age, as beHevers, from the Sabbath ! Looking back from glorv, the Sabbath will appear the brightest and best of all the days on earth. How many have to tell, from their own experience, what the fourth commandment says, ' The Lord blessed the Sabbath day '. There is no surer way of missing the blessing than by neglect- ing the Sabbath. There is no surer way of getting the blessing than by rightly observing it. A friend told me lately of a most successful post- in'r-master in a large English city. He was asked, ' To what, under God, do you most attribute your suc- cess ? ' and he at once replied, ' To having closed my gates on the Lord's day '. The friend to whom I have referred had advised him to do this at an early stage of his business career. It was very difficult to do. The first week it cost him the loss of one of his best customers. But God prospered and blessed him. The customer who had left him came back, after a few months, and brought another to him every way as good. I met, not long since, a gentleman who, in early life, had been on a coffee plantation in Ceylon. He entered on this work at the age of three-and -twenty. He would not drink ; he would not swear ; he would not work on the Lord's day, and for a while had much to bear in consequence. But he persisted in doing what he thought right, and at length he carried the day. His workers brought in as many coffee-berries in six days as others did in sevea They were in better trim after the rest of the Sabbath than those who had worked right on ; and while this young man, who was ready to make any effort or sacrifice that he might keep a good conscience, lived down opposition and prospered, othei's who wanted principle, or had not the courage of their convictions, went to utter iiiin. II. The Manner of its Observance. — A few words will suffice as to this. 1. Resting from the employments and recrea- tions of other days. What a blessing the Sabbath is in bringing us rest — alike from work and from play I Sometimes the one is as hard as the other. There are some things which must be done on the Sabbath, and the doing of these is permitted or re- quired. We are in the habit of calling these ' works of necessity and mercy '. But beyond that, God says, ' In it thou shalt not do any work '. We never would have had a Sabbath at all if God had not given it to us — not even a Sabbath of bodily rest We may well take it as He gives it to us, and be thank- ful for it. 2. Spending the day in Ood's worship and ser- vice. The Sabbath has been given to us for this great purpose. No one will deny the duty and privi- lege of worshipping and sei-ving God on all the other days of the week. But if we had not the special time and opportunity provided for us on the Sabbath, there would be danger of falling away from God's worship altogether. The Sabbath is the great guard against this danger. The church, the family, the Sabbath school, the closet — all have their special place to fill on th.at day, as they could not on any other. The Psalmist in the eighty-fourth Psalm .says, ' A day in Thy courts is better than a thousand. My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord.' ' The Lord loveth the gates of Zion, more than all the dwellings of Jacob.' And so as regards service. There is work for us to do, for God and for others. If we can do anything in our own home, that has the first claim on us. The poor, the sick, the sorrowful ; the discouraged and solitary and friendless — we have these to help and care for. And the Sabbath is the special time for this. How much you might do to help each other to keep the Sabbath — by example, by warning, by pray- ing, by encouraging each other. I believe if the children would but take it up, and make it their business, with God's blessing, Sabbath-breaking might largely be put a stop to. I wish it were the custom to ' begin the Sabbath on Saturday night,' as it has been expressed, instead of carrying Saturday night, as is often done, into the Sabbath morning. Something might be done to im- prove matters in this respect. I have seen it men- tioned that the Jews, after the time of the captivity, when they had learned to value their Sabbaths, were accustomed to light, at sunset of the day before, a candle, which was called the Sabbath candle, as indi- cative of the joy with which they welcomed the return- ing Sabbath ; so that when the little ones saw the Sabbath candle lighted, it would be the signal for shouts of gladness. I wish we had our ' Sabbath candle' lighted on Saturday night — that Saturday night had more of the Sabbath about it.^ Your earthly Sabbaths will soon be over. Seek to make the most of them. Let your Bible be more your companion. Seek to have more of the spirit of a young boy who, when told, on one of the last Sab- baths of his life, to stop reading, because the light was gone, left his little chair, which he had put close to the window, saying, ' The light of the fu'e will do, till I finish this nice chapter '. — J. H. Wilson, The King's Message, p. 185. THE WARNING AGAINST BREAKING THE SABBATH ' Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.'— Exodus xx. 8. These words are pai-t of one of the Ten Command- ments which God gave to the Israelites at Mount Sinai. We may regard them as God's command to us to keep the Sabbath, or as His warning against breaking it. And so, our sermon to-day is about — ' The Warning against Breaking the Sabbath '. And I wish to speak of three reasons why we ought to mind this warning. 1. In the first place, we ought to Mind it — ' See PrepaTation Day, Nelson & Sons, and Sir Mattliew Hale's Letter to His Children. 73 Ver. 8. EXODUS XX Vv. 9, 10, 11. ' for our Own Sakes '. — 'It is God's command to us to keep the Sabbath holy. And David tells us that 'in keeping His commandments there is great reward '. This brings the matter home personally to each one of us. In Isaiah lvi. 2, God says, 'Blessed is the man that keepeth the Sabbath from polluting it '. And in the fifth verse of this chapter, the Lord goes on to tell how He will bless those who keep the Sabbath. He says, ' Even unto them will I give in My house, and within My walls, a place and a name, better than of sons and daughters, and I will give them an everlasting name that shall not be cut off'. This shows us how truly we should mind this warning for our own sakes. It will bring God's special blessing upon us, and that will do us more good than all the gold and silver in the world without it. Sir Matthew Hale's experience about the Sabbath. — This good man was for many years a judge in Eng- land. He was one of the best and wisest j udges that England ever had, and he was an eminent Christian. And this is what he said, after forty years' experi- ence and observation, about the Sabbath. ' I have noticed,' he said, 'that whenever I undertook any worldly business on the Lord's day, that business never prospered. Nay, I have noticed that if I even planned or thought about any temporal business on that day, it never prospered. So that I was always afraid even to think of any worldly business on the Sabbath.' ' Nay, more than this,' said Judge Hale, ' I have noticed that the more diligent and careful I was in attending properly to the duties and privileges of the Lord's day, the more happy and successful I was in my business during the following week ; so that, from the way in which I kept the Sabbath, I could always tell how I might expect to prosper in the employ- ments of the ensuing week.' II. In the second place, we oug'ht to Mind this Warning for ' the sake of our Country '. — One i-eason why God appointed the Sabbath among the Israelites, was that it might prove a blessing to them as a na- tion. Am! in the prophecy of Isaiah (eh. lviii. 13, 14) we find Him giving a special promise, which shows how directly the prosperity of their country was made dependent on the proper observance of the Sabbath day. In this passage God is speaking to the Jews as a nation, when He says : ' If thou turn away thy foot from the Sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on My holy day ; and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord, honourable ; and shalt honour Him, not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words : then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord ; and I will cause thee to ride upon the high places of the earth, and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy father ; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.' Here we ai-e taught that keeping the Sabbath will promote the prosperity of our country. And then there is another passage of Scripture, which shows us just as plainly that if we break the Sabbath we shall bring the curse of God upon our country. When the Jews failed to keep the Sabbath, this was one of the chief causes on account of which they were led into captivity by the King of Babylon. After their return to Jerusalem, Nehemiah was sent by God to be their governor. In talking to the princes of Judah one day, Nehe- miah used these words : ' What evil thing is this that ye do, to profane the Sabbath day ? Did not your fathers thus, and did not our God bring all this evil upon us, and upon this city ? Yet ye bring more wrath upon Israel by profaning the Sabbath ' (Neh. xiil 17, 18). It was true that the Jews keeping the Sabbath brought God's blessing upon their country, and made it prosper ; but breaking the Sabbath interfered with their prosperity as a nation, and brought distress and trouble upon them. III. The third Reason why we ought to Mind this Warning is — -'for the Lord's Sake'. — The first time that we hear of the Sabbath being kept was after the creation of the world. And God Himself is the first person that we know of who ever kept the Sabbath. In the second chapter of Genesis we read : ' And on the seventh day God ended His work which He had made ; and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had made. And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it : because that in it He had rested from all His work which God created and made.' God did not need rest after working for six days, as we do ; yet He took the rest, and kept the Sabbath day, to set us an example about keeping this day holy. And here we have a good reason why we should mind this warning against breaking the Sab- bath. God Himself has set us an example in this matter, and we should be careful to follow this example for the Lord's sake. Let it be our earnest prayer that God may help us to keep the fourth commandment — for our own sake — for the sake of our country — and for His sake ; and then we shall live happy and useful lives, and lives that will be to the honour of His holy name for ever. — Richard Newton, Bible Warnings : Addresses to Children, p. 214. COPYING OUR FATHER ' Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work : . . . But the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God : . . . For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day.' — Exodus xx. g, and parts of lo, ii. Children like to imitate parents. Father joiner; boy gets hold of saw and hammer — must do some carpentering. Mother cutting out dress ; girl gets scissors — nuist cut out too. God, our Father, wants us to imitate Him. I. Let us Work as Qod Worked. — 1. One thing at a time. Never was such a tangle to put straight as that in Genesis i., ' Without form and void '. \^et God did it How ? First light, then firmament, then land, then grass, beasts, men. 74 Ver. 12. EXODUS XX Ver. 12. How often we make mistakes through rushing at half a dozen things at once. Lessons, tidying up, tangles generally. Copy your Father. ' One at a time.' So also in religion ; try to conquer one fault at a time. 2. The right thing first, or everything in its proper place. God did not make man before there was a place for him or food for him. Everything was in the right place. Beasts ready for man, and green herbs for beasts, and land for herbs, and light for all. Copy your Father again. Often just the other way. Boy wants to be a man before he has been a boy. To write in copy-book before can write pro- perly on slate, etc. So also in religion. First our hearts — out of these are 'the issues o/life '. II. Let us Rest as Qod Rested. — ' Why keep Sunday ? ' Best answer, ' Because our Father did, and He wants us to copy Him '. Question something like baby's, ' Why go to bed j ust yet ? ' need not give any other reason than that father wants him to. But other children, to — wants them to copy Him as well. H(5W selfish to buy things on Sunday. 'Ah, but / rested.' If you pushed another boy through a window, who would have to pay for the broken glass ? Remember, then, our Father's work and our Father's rest. Recapitulate. Let us try to copy Him. He will help us if we try. Pray, 'Lord, show us how to work now, so that afterwards we may rest with Thee for ever '. In working up this address, help may be found from Draper's Lessons on the Ecclesiastical Year, No. XV., by which, in part, it was suggested. — C. A. GooDHAET, Hints and Outlines for Children's Services, p. 36. ' Honour thy father and thy mother.' — Exodus xx. 12. James Vaughan gives two good illustrations of this text : — There was a little girl whose name was Mabel. She went to pay a visit to her grandmother, and her grandmother was a very kind person ; she lived in a very nice house, and had a very happy home. Mabel went to stay, then, with her grandmother. And when there, her grandmother went to see little Mabel in her bedroom, to see if she had got into bed all right, or wanted anything. She was surprised to find a tear on little Mabel's cheek ; she had gone to sleep, but the tear was there ! The next morning her grandmother said to her, 'Mabel, I am afraid you are a little home-sick'. 'Oh, no, dear grand- mamma,' she said, ' no one could be home-sick with such a kind person as you. You make me so happy. I am sure I am not home-sick.' The next night the old grandmother went again to look at little Mabel in bed ; and again she saw a tear on her cheek. She was very much surprised again to find a tear. So she determined the next night she would sit in the next room, the dressing- room, and watch to see what was the matter. So the grandmother sat in the next room, after tucking up little Mabel in bed, putting under her a soft pillow, making her very comfortable, and giving her a nice tuck up to the chin, so that she seemed very happy. The grandmother then sat down to see what would happen. Soon she heard little Mabel sobbing. She was very restless; she put her pillow this way, and that way, and seemed very uncomfort- able. Her grandmother went in to see her, and said, ' Mabel, what is the matter, I am sure you have got "a thorn in your pillow". What is it?' She understood at once what her grandmother meant, and said, 'Yes, grandmamma, I have'. 'Tell me, Mabel, what is " the thorn in your pillow " ? ' ' Oh ! grandmamma, I have said to my dear mamma at home, I won't, / won't ! And I cannot un.say it now. I have said it, and I cannot unsay it. That is " my thorn," what I have said to my dear mamma. And she is such a kind mother, she loves me so much ; and to think that when at home I said to her, / won't! that is my thorn.' My dear children, take care you do not 'sow a thorn into your pillow'. Take care when your dear father and mother are dead and gone, that you have not ' a thorn in your pillow ' about your conduct to them ! regrets that you have said some things that you cannot now un- say. They are gone ! How many a man and woman now living would ' give the world ' to be able to un- say what they once said to father and mother ! The great Dr. Johnson was a very learned man ; he wrote a Dictionary. He lived in Uttoxeter. His father was a bookseller, not in a very grand way, because he used to sell his books in the market-place. Oue day he asked his son Samuel (that was the Christian name of Dr. .Johnson) to come down and help him in the sale of his books in the mai'ket-place. Little Samuel was rather a sort of a dandy, a con- ceited fellow ! and he thought it beneath his dignity to sell books in the market-place. ' He demean himself to stand in the market-place to sell books, indeed, for his father ! He was too great a gentleman for that ! ' Fifty years passed away, and Dr. Johnson had be- come now an old man. It haunted him ; he could not forget, though more than fifty years had passed, what he had done to his father in refusing to sell books in the market-place. He was very sad and unhappy about it. So, one day the doctor took off his hat, and went and stood in the same market-place, on the very spot where he said he would not stand to sell books for his father. And all the boys laughed at him ; but ti e e he stood with his bald head, not feeling the rain, or caring for the boys' laughter, that he might do a sort of act of penance to ease his conscience ! He did not ' honour his father ' when a boy, and he remembered it fifty years after, and it was a pain to him. You have heai'd of that great man Sir Henry 75 Ver. 12. EXODUS XX Ver. 12. Havelock, a great general, a great soldier, one of the greatest soldiers of his age. I will tell you what once happened to him. When a little boy he lived in or near London, I am not quite sure which. One morning his father took little Henry with him to London, and he was out all day, and when his father came back at night he said, ' Where's Henry ? ' His mother said, ' I don't know. I thought he was with you.' His father said, 'I thought he came home. Where can he be ? He is missing, and I cannot find him.' Then his father thought for a time, and at last said, ' Oh, I remember. It is my fault. When I went away in the morning, I said to Henry, " Henry, at twelve o'clock I will meet you on London Bridge ". He was to meet me there at that hour, and now it is late at night,' and Sir Henry Havelock's father said, ' I have no doubt he is still on London Bridge '. So oif he set, in the night, many miles, and went to London Bridge, and there was little Henry. He had stood there from twelve o'clock in the day — all the time — because his father had said, ' Stay there till I come to meet you at London Bridge ' ; — there he was till the middle of the night. I do not wonder he became a great general, a pei>on so honoured ; a boy so obedient to his father was the very one to rule when he came to be a man. Those who obey well will rule well. So he laid the foundation of his great life by ' honouring his father'. I vvill tell you what that wonderfully good and great man Richard Hooker once said. He lived many years ago, and was one of the best men that ever lived. He wrote a book on Ecclesiastical Polity, another on Justification hy Faith, and many more : they are very learned and very beautiful books. He said, ' If I had no other reason why I would wish to be religious, I would be religious to make my mother happy ! ' THE WARNING AC 'NST DISOBEYINQ OUR P.-..vENTS ' Honour thy father and thy mother.' — Exodus xx. 12. There are three good things which minding this warning will bring to us. These should be our rea- sons for minding it. I. The First Good Thing which Minding this Warning will bring to us is — ' Honour '. — We have a good illustration of this in the case of Joseph, whose history is given in the Bible. When his father Jacob commanded him to leave their pleasant home in the vale of Hebron, and go and find out how his brethren were, he obeyed at once. They were feeding their flocks in Shechem. This was a long journey to take in those days. Joseph knew very well how his brethren hated him, because his father loved him more than he did them. On this account he must have known that his visit would not be a pleasant one to him. He was then about seventeen years of age. Now many a boy under these circumstances would not have been willing to obey his father. But it was different with Joseph. He had learnt to mind this warning against disobeying his father. So he went straight forward, and did what his father had told him to do. This brought him into a great deal of trouble at first. His brethren treated him very un- kindly. They stripped him of his robe of many colours. They cast him into a pit, and sold him as a slave to be taken down to Egypt. There he was kept in prison for several years. And yet, obeying his father about visiting his brethren was the best thing that Joseph ever did. It was this which led to his becoming the governor of all the land of Pjgypt. As Pharaoh sat upon his throne, Joseph stood the next to him in honour and greatness. He was one of the greatest men in the world at that time. But if he had not learned to obey his father, and to mind the warning we are now considering, he never would have gained this honour. We have another illustration of this part of our subject in the history of one of our own countrymen — the great and good George Washington. When he was a boy he had a great desu-e to go to sea. A friend of his, who was an officer in the navy, had obtained for him a midshipman's commission. His mother had at fii'st given her consent to his tak- ing this step. But afterwards she changed her mind, and was unwilling to have him go. Yet the prepara- tion for his going went on. The trunk containing his clothes had been packed and taken on board the vessel. Then George went in to say ' good bye ' to his mother. But as he threw his arms round her neck to give her the farewell kiss, she burst into tears, and said she could never have a moment's happiness while he was away from her. ' Then, mother dear, wipe away your tears, for I won't go,' were George's noble words. Then he had his trunk brought back from the ship, and gave up the idea of going to sea, although he had set his heart upon it. Thus he honoured his mother by obeying not her words only, but her wishes, and altering his whole plan of life to please her. And this became the turning-point in the life of Washington. This led to all his after greatness. If he had not learned this Bible warning againstdishonouring his pai'ents, his name would never have had the place it now occupies on the page of history, as the great and successful general of the American Revolution, and the first President of the United States, All this honour came to Washington as the result of his obedience to his parents. II. The Second Good Thing which Minding this Warning will bring to us is — ' Pleasure '. And for this we ought to Mind it. — Solomon tells us that rehgion's ways are ' ways of pleasantness '. The ways in which religion leads us are the ways of keeping God's commandments. David tells us that ' in keeping these commandments there is great reward '. This ' great reward ' refers not only to the joy and happi- ness which God's people will find laid up for them in heaven as the result of their having kept His command- ments ; but it also refers to the pleasure which keep- ing God's commandments will bring to them in this life. And there is not one of God's commandments 76 Ver. 12. EXODUS XX Ver. 13. that will secure to us more pleasure than this we are now considennjj— the fifth commandment, about honourin"' and obeying our parents. III. The Third Good Thing which Minding this Warning will bring to us is ' Profit '. And for this we ought to Mind it. — God says, ' Them that honour Me I will honour '. And ' the honour which cometh from God ' is the most profitable thing we can ever get. We honour God when we keep His commandmeuts and mind the warning He gives us against disobeying our parents. The profit of obedience and kindness. — Here is a story which refers to what happened to a family in Germany some years ago. The parents of this family were good Christian people, but they wei'e very poor. They had ten children, who had been faithfully taught to honour and obey their parents, and to be kind to all who are in trouble. A poor widow woman, who was a neighbour of theirs, had just died, leaving a little daughter named Gretchen, with no money to support her, and no relatives in the world with whom she could live. One evening, about sunset, Gretchen came round to the door of the good Ger- man mother's house, and asked if she could have a home with them. ' I don't know how we can make out,' said the mother, ' and yet we cannot let you starve, poor child.' Just then a stranger was passing by. He had heai-d the child's question to the mother, and her reply, and felt interested in the matter. He asked if he could have some supper with the family, and was invited in. He found out by inquiry all the particulars about little Gretchen, and then said, ' Can't you manage to keep her ? I suppose you have none of your own ? ' The mother smiled at this, and said, ' Oh, we have only ten, sir '. Then the call was made for supper, and the little ones all came trooping in. The stranger watched them with great interest. Their faces were all clean ; their hair neatly brushed, and their patched and worn clothes looked as though they had taken the greatest possible care of them. He was engaged in conversa- tion with the parents of the family, and yet he kept a careful eye on the children. He was delighted to notice how instantly they minded every word that was spoken to them by their father or mother, and how ready they all were to shai'e whatever they had with poor little Gretchen. Then he said, ' good-bye ' to them, and went away. The next day a soldier, in grand military dress, rode up on hoi-seback, and called for the mother. When she opened the door he gave her a large letter, with the seal of the Emperor of Germany upon it. She trembled as she broke the seal, and opened the letter. And what do you suppose that the letter said ? Why, it said that the man who had taken supper with them the night before was the Emperor, and that he was so pleased with the ten children, with the way in which they honoured and obeyed their parents, and with their kindness to poor Gretchen, that he had decided to make each of them a present of 8100, which would be paid to them each year as long as they lived. Only think of that ; $1100 a year because the stranger who took supper with them was so pleased with their ready obedience to their parents, with their respect to him, and their unselfish kindness to the poor orphan Gretchen. Some of you may think that this sounds like a made-up story. But it is not so. It is a true story. The letter was signed — ' Joseph, Emperor of Austria '. He was the stranger who had eaten a potato supper with that poor family the night before. And this is a beautiful illustration of the profit that comes from minding the Bible warning against disobeying our parents. — Richard Nkwton, Bible Warnings : Addresses to Children, p. 309. 'Thou shalt not kill.' — Exodus xx. 13. In France, a long time ago, there was a remarkable picture placed in the church of Notre Dame. It is an alto-rilievo on the wall. And this is the history of it. A long time ago there was a nobleman going through a wood, called the Wood of Conde, a wood in France, accompanied by a fine dog, an English bloodhound. While going along a man attacked him, robbed and murdered him, and afterwards buried him under a tree. The dog stayed by the grave some days, and then he went oft' to the place where his master had lived ; and he took hold (by his teeth) of the trousers of a man, and drew him along. The man could not understand him, but at last he saw the dog had something on his mind, so he followed him, and he took him to the spot where his master was murdered, and there the body was found, buried under the tree. They took the body away, and buried it properly, and then this dog went back to the family of the nobleman ; but whenever he met in the street (which he often did) a certain other nobleman, this dog always growled at him ; he flew at him once, and seized him by the throat ! People began to think it was very strange. They inquired into the noble- man's history, and found he had been a great rival, and very jealous of the other nobleman who had been murdered. Putting it all together, they thought it looked very suspicious ! So some one told the king — Louis VIII. of France. He thought it strange, and sent for the dog. There were twenty noblemen present, standing before the king, and as the dog entered, he immediately recognised the nobleman he had so frequently attacked, and immediately he ran at him, just as the king had expected. He was therefore convinced there was something behind the scenes. He ordered that to be done which was the custom in those days, viz. that the thing should be settled by a battle. They must fight it out ; just as this man would have had to fight another man, so he would have now to fight the dog. On the spot where Notre Dame stands, in the middle of the island, there the nobleman and the dog had to fight. The man was allowed to have a great cudgel, and the dog an 77 Ver. 15. EXODUS XX Ver. 15. empty cask, to run into when tired. They had a great fight ; and the dog ran round and round, and every now and then ran into his cask for refuge to avoid the cudgel. At last the dog seized hold of the man by the throat, pulled him to the ground, and stood over him. The nobleman then confessed he had committed the murder ! He was afterwards exe- cuted for it. And now, in Notre Dame, this picture remains as a record of the event. It shows how God finds out a murder ! — James Vaughan, Sermons to Children (4th Series), p. 214. MINE AND THINE; OR, STEALING ' Thou shalt not steal.' — Exodus xx. 15. This is a short command, and should be le U'ned by heart by every boy and girl. Indeed, they ought to learn all the Ten Commandments by heart, that they may obey them. The text teaches you to regard the rights of others in property, in things owned. It marks the difference between mine and thine. Each one can say of some things, 'These are mine'; but of others he must say, 'Those are not mine'. You can, and do say sometimes, ' This is mine and not yours ; but that is yours and not mine '. You have clothes, and shoes, and books, and dolls, and playthings which you call your own, though your father or mother bought or made them for you. They are yours, and not your sister's or 3'our brother's, and you know it. But your brother or sister has other things which he or she owns, and you do not. This you understand. You know your own hats or caps, your shoes, your dresses, your playthings. They are your property. You have a first right to them. No one but your parents has a right to take them away from you. Now the text refers to this right of property, and says, ' Thou shalt not steal '. Did you ever think that these words apply to you, children ? Yet they do ; for in your plays you may learn to steal or learn not to steal. Do you ask me, ' How so ? ' I will tell you. As you deal with your brother or sister, so will you deal with others, even when you grow up to be men and women. It is because of this that I speak to you about stealing. Your teacher gives you a book. It is yours. You own it. But your brother wants it, and so he goes and gets it, and hides it. He steals it. He is learning to steal. Had he any right to your book ? None at all. Have you, then, any right to take and use anything that belongs to your sister or brother without the consent of the one who owns it ? No ; you can use your own as you please, if you do not injure them; but you should not think of taking and using another's things without consent. If you want to see or use them, ask for them in a kind way. Do not snatch them, nor say, ' Give them to me ! ' You should say, in- stead, ' Please, may I take them ? ' Of course each one in a family ought to love the rest so that he will be glad to have them take, ex- amine, and use his playthings, and not be selfish about it ; but there ought to be in eveiy home among the children a difference between mine and thine, what one child owns or claims as his, and what another owns or claims as his, and this difference or distinction should be enforced by parents. One child should be made to treat the rights of another with respect. For, if a boy be allowed to eat what belongs to his brother or sister, and to use their things as though they were his own, he will be likely to do the same to other boys, and, because he was not trained better, may grow up a thief But if a boy or girl treats a brother's or sister's things as he or she should, not taking and using them without leave, neither will grow up a thief They will not steal even a pin. The first way, then, to obey the text is, not to steal from brothel's and sisters, from father or mother, or from playmates. And I hope your parents will see to it that you do not take without leave anything which does not belong to you. The next way to obey the text is to treat the property of others as you do the playthings of others. You should never pick fruit from trees growing on your father's place without his permission ; but to rob fruit trees which your father does not own, what shall I say of it ? It is stealing. It is breaking the command, ' Thou shalt not steal,' which God himself gave. The fruit is not yours. You have no right to take it. You sin against God by taking it. Never touch what does not belong to you. If you do rob the trees or the vines, you are a thief. Do you say that you took only a little? Yet stealing a little is stealing. Stealing a cent is as truly stealing as the stealing of a dollar. To steal a cent's worth of fi'uit or a dollar's worth is as wicked as to steal a cent or a dollar from a man's pocket. If you grow up robbing vines and trees and orchards, where will you stop ? Who would have you in their store or office or shop or farm ? Who would trust you in anything ? A child who does not mind the difference between mine and thine, what is his and what is not his, in little things, will not be likely to mind it in great things. He grows up to take all he can get from others without punishment, and it is but a little step to a life of stealing and robbery. Do not begin to take that sad step. Do you say that you like strawberries, grapes, pears, peaches, and apples ? But that is no reason why you should steal them. If anybody could steal whatever he liked, no one could own anything that another wanted. If you think it right to steal because you like it, then another could for the same reason steal your best doll or your cap or anything else you have. No, there is only one law of God, and that is the text, ' Thou shalt not steal '. Obey that, and you are safe ; but if you begin to break that law by stealing sugar or fruit or candy or anything else, you may become a thief of larger things, and be sent to prison for it. Let me repeat : — 1. Do not steal from your parents, sugar, cake, fruit, money, or anything else. 2. Do not steal from your brothel's or sisters, their books, playthings, or anything else. 78 Ver. 30. EXODUS XXIII Ver. 30. 3. Do not steal from your playmates, marbles, pencils, or anything else you may want 4. Do not steal from your neighbours, fruit, melons, eggs, or anything else. 5. Do not steal from anybody anything whatever ; for God says, ' Thou shalt not steal '. While you are thinking of these five things, let me say a word to parents, and ask them to train you carefully to know and to respect the difference be- tween mine and thine, what is your own and what is not your own. Children learn it very young and will stand up for their own, will quarrel and fight for it. Hence parents can use these times to teach one of the most important lessons of life, namely, the distinction lietween mine and thine. The neglect of this distinction and training may ruin your dear children. Enforce it rigidly. — A. Hastings Ross, Sermons for Children, p. 223. LITTLE THINGS • By little and little.'— Exodus xxiii. 30. In nature a noxious weed may be the means of pro- tecting a useful plant from the sun and storm, till it is stront;' enough to do battle with the elements itself And this was the kind of service which the old Canaanites did for the Israelites who invaded and conquered their country. These people were guilty of many dark vices, and they had polluted the land with their foul idolatries ; and if the Israelites allowed them to dwell among them, they would have cor- rupted their good manners, and in a short time would have made the chosen people as bad as themselves. But, bad as they were, God would not have them re- moved wholesale at once. For in that case the land would have been made a wilderness, the wild beasts would have multiplied, and the Israelites would have been too few to cope with them. By little and little the Canaanites were to be driven out ; and in this way the wild beasts would be kept in check, till the new inhabitants had increased to such an extent that they would need no help to prevent their ravages. I. It is by little and little that an evil character is formed. Great sinners are not made such at once. Their guilt is made up of many little sins. When you want to light a fire in the grate, you do not put into it a great lump of coal or log of wood, and apply a match in the hope that it will burn. Your match will go out and your great lump of fuel will not kindle. You have to prepare the way by putting first into the grate a quantity of paper and small dry sticks or wood-shavings or some other inflammable material ; and these catch fire at once, and by the heat and flames thev produce they gradually set the solid coal or wood ablaze. And is that not the way in which great sins have the way prepared for them by a number of little sins ? Gehazi would not have cheated in the matter of the presents of Naaman, the Syrian leper, if he had not cherished the spirit of covetousness previously in the service of Elisha. And Judas would not have betrayed Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, if he had not before that been in the habit of pilfering from the bag containing the common money of the disciples, which he kept. You know how the wonderful bridge across Niagara River, below the great waterfall, was made. The engineer first sent over the terrible abyss to the opposite side a child's kite having a silken thread attached to it. To this silken thread a thin coi'd was tied, and to the thin cord a thicker cord, which carried over a rope, and then a great cable, and then granite piers were built supporting huge iron chains on which to lay planks for a roadway. And to-day the immense traffic of two great nations passess fearlessly over the great gulf that at one time seemed to place an in- superable obstacle in the way. And that is precisely the method in which the sinner makes a way to span the abyss of evil : first the thin silken thread of desire flies over, and then stronger desires and passions, and at last by little and little he who would at first have shrunk back from the least appearance of evil dashes boldly across the gulf of ruin in his mad career. If there be no outward sin, a single day seems to work but little mischief in the character. You do not usually feel worse to-day than you did yesterday. There is nothing in yourself or in your circumstances to show how far you have drifted from the right direction ; and you have gone on in sin and confirmed and strengthened your evil inclinations. II. Sin is cumulative, that is, grows and collects in a heap. The effect of each sin does not pass away when it is committed. It remains and influences the character for evil, weakens the moral fibre of the nature, so that you find it easier to commit another sin. There are some poisons that pass out of the system at once, so that if you took a small quantity of them by degrees you would not suffer any harm. But there are other poisons that abide in the system, so that if you took a number of very small doses in succession, those minute doses would accumulate in your body, and form in the end a dose sufficiently deadly to kill you. Prussic acid is one of the cumu- lative poisons. It gives the bitter flavour to laurel and bay leaves, and to the kernel in the inside of cherry and prune stones, of which young people are so fond. A little girl in Paris one day ate a large number of peach kernels. Each of them contained a very small quantity of prussic acid ; and by a cum- ulative process the large number which she ate pro- duced in the end a sufficient dose of the poison to prove fatal. She died with all the symptoms of death by prussic acid. And so sins, in themselves small and insignificant, may little by little so accumulate as to create a habit, which will have the most injuri- ous effect upon the moral constitution, and lead in the end to fatal results. Lord Kelvin once remarked, while speaking of the far-reaching influence of strains or vibrations, ' I lay this little piece of chalk upon a granite mountain and it strains the whole earth '. And so a little act of yours strains the whole moral world, makes it different from what it would have been without it. III. I have thus shown you that great consequences 79 Ver. 30. EXODUS XXII I., XXV Ver. 4 may come from what you call little things. Your heart and life are what ("anaan was when the Israelites entered into it. It is full of wild beasts, of lusts and evil thoughts and desires. And you must drive them out by little and little as God's sanctifying grace works in you. You must fight them again and again and make them feel the strong hand of power. You must not make terms with them, for the more you indulge them the more they will trouble you. But if you will overcome them in God's strength and name, they will become weaker as you become stronger, and the final victory will be with you. You must not allow your Christian character to be spoiled by little sins, or what are called such, but watch against them, and keep your conscience tender and wakeful, so that you may perceive those sins to be indeed sins. Seek to have your hearts filled with love to Jesus, that you may realise by contrast with His holiness the evil that there is in your own sin. Do not allow little sins in your conduct and convei'sation, in your temper and dis- position, to settle down and become part of your character and destroy its purity and beauty, as the particles of dust in a room settle down and become engrained in a carpet that is never swept, and so by the friction of frequent footsteps loses both its pattern and texture. What you want is a sensibility to sin like that which the eye has towards a speck of dust, which produces a tear that washes it away at once. IV. In conclusion, let me ask you to be constantly doing little things for the Master, and He will value them at their due worth. It is upon the doing of little things that the judgment of the last day hangs — upon giving a cup of water to a disciple, upon feeding the poor, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and the prisoner. It is by little things that we show our love. Strangers must give valuable presents if they are to be accepted, but a child of the house can give a little wild flower. There is a very beautiful legend connected with the mosque of St. Sophia in Constantinople. It was once a Christian church and it has stood for fourteen centuries. It was built by the Roman Emperor Justinian, who was a Christian, and cost more than twenty millions of pounds, and took ten thousand workmen for more than twenty years to finish it. It was the greatest building in the world ; and on a marble stone above the lofty entrance door the Emperor caused the architect to carve the words, ' Justinian gives this house to God '. On the day of the opening of the church the Emperor looked up in the pride of his heart to see this inscrip- tion, and to his astonishment and indignation he found instead the words, ' The widow Euphrasia gives this to God.' Who dared commit this sacrilege ? No one knew. At last the widow Euphrasia was found in the person of a poor aged woman living at the foot of the hill on which the church was built ; and when brought trembling into the presence of the monarch and accused of changing his inscription, she replied, ' Sire, I only threw a little straw which I plucked from the mattress on which I lay before the oxen that dragged up the stones to the building'. The Emperor said, 'Thy gift was small, but the great King who lived and died humble has accepted thy gift, for it was the gift of love ; but He has rejected mine, for it was the gift of pride. God grant, my poor friend, that when we meet hereafter nt the Throne, I may attain to a footstool at thy feet' It is a lovely story and has a lovely moral. God's valuation is not according to the great mountain of rock, but according to the little jewel into which it crystallises. It is the little thing that contains much love that sparkles as a gem of untold value in His eyes. The two mites of the widow that make but one farthing are more precious to Him than all the golden gifts of the rich cast into the treasury. — Hugh Macmillan, The Spring of the Day, p. 179. THE TABERNACLE COLOURS ' Bloc, aod purple, and scarlet, and fine linen.' — Exodus xxv. 4. For forty years the children of Israel lived in tents, pitched now here and now there in the Arabian desert. And Jehovah their God, Who had brought them out of Egypt, dwelt in a Tent too, in the midst of them. That holy Tabernacle was formed after the pattern which the Lord had beforehand showed to Moses when he was with Him on Mount Sinai. And it lasted for nearly five hundred yeai-s. The people got bouses to live in as soon as they were settled in the Promised Land ; but God's Tent remained until the building of the Temple by King Solomon. The Tabernacle which Moses set up was very strong. Sometimes it is spoken of as ' the frail tabernacle ' ; but it was not frail at all. It could scarcely have been more substantial than it was. The materials of it were very costly. The metal which it contained has been valued at £230,000, and the curtains and precious stones at £20,000. The total value was therefore £250,000, or a quarter of a million of our money. And the Tabernacle was very beautiful. The tents in which the people lived were ordinary and commonplace ; but the Sanctuary in the midst of them was resplendent with its scarlet roof, its golden furniture, and its gay-coloured curtains. Moses devotes only one chapter, or at most two, to the creation of the world ; but his narrative of the erection of the Tabernacle, and the consecration of the priests who were to minister in it, spreads itself over twelve or thirteen chapters. Evidently, therefore, the Tabernacle occupies an important place in the story of redemption. We shall shortly consider two things in reference to the Tabernacle colours : — i. What They Were.— The words of our text tell us — words that occur frequently in the chapters which describe the building of the Tabernacle : ' Blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine linen '. These were the colours, fii-st of all, of the ten great curtains of which the sacred Tent was made by ' the wise-hearted men ' among the people. They were the colours nest of the great veil which divided the Holy Place from the Holiest of all. They were the 80 Ver. 4. EXODUS XXV., XXX Ver. 12 coloui-s also of the firet veil, or entrance curtain of the Tabernacle. And they were the colours of the hang- ing for the gate of the court open to the sky, which enclosed the sacred Tent, and within which the con- gregation assembled for worship. The hangings for the court itself were white — of fine twined linen. The same famous Tabeinacle colours were seen also in the robes of the priests. The ordinary priests, the sons of Aaron, were clad in white : they wore coats, and bonnets, and breeches of fine linen. But Aaron, the High Priest, wore all the colours on his resplendent apparel. The mantle, or ' robe of the ephod,' which reached down to his feet, was 'all of blue ' ; and upon the hem of it were pomegranates of blue, and purple, and scarlet. The ephod, or short upper sleeveless coat — the curious girdle of the ephod — and the breastplate of judgment, were all made 'of gold, of blue, and of purple, of scarlet, and fine twined linen, with cunning work '. The High Priest's robes were called 'holy garments,' because they were worn only in the service of the Sanctuary ; and it was neces- sary that they should have upon them the sacred colours. II. Their Meaning. — Why were the.se colours chosen as the livery of the Tabernacle ? Was it be- cause they were both beautiful and costly ? Was it because they are the royal colours, and therefore the most fit for the adornment of the abode of the King of kings ? Certainly, the blue, and the purple, and the scarlet, and the white were in their proper places on the curtains of the sacred Tent, and on the robes of Aaron its minister, because of the natural symbol- ism which we associate with these colours. Blue is the colour of the sky : it means Peace. When Moses and Aaron and the elders ascended Mount Sinai, ' they saw the God of Israel ; and there was under His feet as it were a paved work of a sapphire stone, and as it were the body of heaven in His clearness '. Sapphire is a beautiful blue ; and the clear deep blue of the firmament leads us to think of 'peace with God'. Blue is true; and God's peace is the most real and precious of blessings. Purple is the royal and imperial colour. It sug- gests first the thought of sovereignty, and then that of Grace. For grace is the most attractive and beautiful form in which it is possible for sovereignty to manifest itself. A king apparels himself in a purple robe ; and purple therefore suggests the thought of the undeserved favour of God towards us sinnere. Scarlet is the blood-colour. It speaks to us of sacrifice by blood-shedding, of the remission of sins through the merit of the great atonement, and thus of the Divine Mercy. Red means both sin and love ; and every scarlet thread in the Tabernacle needle- work may well prompt the doxology : ' Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father ; to Him be glory and dominion for ever and ever '. White consists of the union of the seven prismatic colours. In the Tabernacle it was the background of all. It was the ground on which the lovely hues were wrought. White is right : it is the colour of Holiness and purity. To the Bride of the Lamb ' was granted that she should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white : for the fine linen is the righteous- ness of saints '. 'Blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine linen.' That is, ' Grace, mercy, and peace ' from God to His people ; and purity in heart and life their response to Him. Seen on the curtains and veils of the Tabernacle, these coloui-s said to the worshipper drawing near, ' Grace, mercy, and peace to you from Him whose Tent this is '. And seen on the High Priest's dress, they said, ' Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, of whose Body the Tabernacle is a picture- symbol '. — Charles Jerdan, Messages to the Children, p. 272. THE CENSUS ' When thou takest the sum of the children of Israel after their number, then shall they give every man a ransom for his soul unto the Lord, when thou numberest them ; that there be no plague among them, vfhen thou numberest them.' — Exodus xxx. 12. You all know what is meant by ' the census,' and I dare say you have been very much interested about it. One night all the people in the United Kingdom were counted. You saw the large sheets of paper with lines ruled to make several columns, which were left at every house, and you all helped to fill up the columns. First, father entered his name as the head of the house ; then came mother, then the older brothers and sisters, then your name, then baby's name, if there was one ; and visitors, and servants, and whoever slept that night in the house. Our text tells us that the Jews were commanded to take a census, but their census differed in various respects from the one taken every ten years of our- selves. I. Every Man must give a Ransom for his Soul. — ' They shall give, every one that passeth among them that are numbered, half a shekel after the shekel of the sanctuary' (ver. 13). Half a shekel would be not quite one shilling and threepence in our money. This sum every man was obliged to pay, ' that there be no plague among them, when thou numberest them '. In our census there was nothing to pay. Some ignorant people fancied there was, and had to be assured that this was not the case. But if anyone wilfully filled up the census paper falsely, he was liable to a fine of five pounds. Then in the Jewish census children were not in- cluded. ' Every one that passeth among them that are numbered, from twenty years old and above, shall give an off'ering unto the Lord.' In our census all the children are included, even the very youngest. Children are very important members of every family amongst us, and I trust they will all be included in the family of God. Jesus said, ' Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not : 81 Ver. 12. EXODUS XXX., XXXIII Ver. 14. for of such is the kingdom of God '. No children in- cluded in the Jewish census ! and half a shekel ran- som money for all who were numbered ! What a difference between that census and our own ! il. Every Man, Rich and Poor, must Give the same Ransom. — ' The rich shall not give more, and the poor shall not give less than half a shekel, when they give an offering unto the Lord, to make an atonement for your souls' (ver. 15). What does that mean ? Why were all to give an equal sum? Was it not to teach the great truth that all souls are equal in the sight of God, and that those who are rich should never despise the poor? Money is a very good thing for those who know how to make a good use of it, but never a thing to be proud of A boy who is proud because he has more pocket-money than his schoolfellows, or because his parents are richer than their parents, only shows how foolish he is. It is far better to have a well-filled mind, and a noble character, than a well-filled purse. Some poor men in the sight of God are very, very rich, and some rich men are very, very poor. III. A Ransom has been Paid for every One of us by the Lord Jesus Christ. — Not one of us could make an atonement for his own soul. No money that the richest could pay, no good work that the best could do, would ever atone for his sins ; but we are ' redeemed, not with corruptible things, with silver or gold ; but with precious blood, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot, even the blood of Christ '(1 Pet I. 18, 19, R.V.). Look in your maps, and find the island of Malta in the Mediterranean Sea. Malta is full of Roman Catholics, and I have read that on certain days priests go about the streets with a money-box and a bell, ringing the bell, rattling the coins in the money-box, and crying with a loud voice, ' What will you give for the souls? what will you give for the souls?' The money is put into the boxes to pay the priests for ' saying masses,' as it is called, and offering prayers for the souls of the dead that they may be delivered from punishment. On the outside wall of one of the churches in the city of Antwerp I have seen a veiy curious thing, a model of a prison cell built against the outside wall of the church like a cage, with iron bars in front. Inside the cage are figures of men as large as life, like what you see in a waxwork. They look very miser- able, and are stretching their hands between the prison bars, and pointing to a money-box outside as if they were appealing to you to take pity on them, and to put money into the box to pay the priests to pray for them, and to deliver them thus from their prison. Does not all that seem to you very foolish ? How thankful we should be that the Lord Jesus our great High Priest 'ever liveth to make intercession ' for us, and that HE has paid the ransom price, for boys and girls as well as men and women, in His own most precious blood. May we all of us be numbered with His people in the last great census, and be found amongst the 'great multitude which no man can number,' who ' have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb '. — F. H. RoBAETs, Sunday Morning Talks, p. 83. COMFORT FOR TIMID CHILDREN ' My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest.'— Exodus xxxiii. 14. It is a good thing for boys and girls to be brave, but sometimes you feel timid and frightened. Some children are afraid to be left alone in the dark, but if you will sit with them till they go to sleep they are quite happy. Little boys are sometimes teased at school. It is very cruel and wicked to tease and bully one another, but it is sometimes done. But if a little boy has a big brother at school to take care of him and fight his battles, he is not afraid. The presence of his big brother gives him rest. A story is told of Lady Augusta Stanley, the noble wife of Dean Stanley of Westminster. She used to visit the poor sick people in the Westminster Hospital, and to read the Bible to them and comfort them. One day a poor woman, who had a painful operation to suffer, sent for Lady Augusta to come and sit beside her. ' For I can bear it better,' she said, ' if you are with me ; ' and her kind friend's presence gave her rest In our beautiful text, the great God in heaven says to little boys and girls, ' My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest'. As He went with the children of Israel ' by day in a pillar of cloud, to lead them the way ; and by night in a pillar of fire, to give them light ' : so He will go with us. But there is no pillar of cloud and of fire for us : we cannot see God at all. How do we know that His presence is with us ? Can a little child see his mother when his eyes are shut and the room is dark ? No ; but he goes to sleep quite happy if he believes that she is there. Can you see the air which fills the room at this moment ? No ; but the room is full of air, or else you could not live : and the presence of our dear kind Heavenly Father round about us is as real as the presence of the air that we breathe ; and to believe this will give us rest and peace. Now, let me try to show you how this will come true. Years ago, long before any of you were born, there was a little boy who was to go a long railroad journey from London to Bristol. In prospect of this he was rather timid. You wonder at this because you never feel timid on the railroad. But you must remember that railroads were new things at that time. They had not been long invented. He had never seen a railroad ; and he had heard about terrible railway accidents, and long, dark railway tunnels ; and he was afraid at the thought of his first railway journey, just as you might feel afraid at the thought of going in a balloon for the fii-st time. Well, this little boy had a kind aunt, and before he got into the train she put into his hand an envelope, on the outside of which was written, ' Prescription against fear '. You know what a prescription is ? It is the Ver. 2. EXODUS XXXIV Ver. 2. paper which doctoi-s write, telling the druggist what medicine to send for people who are sick. When the train was going very fast, and was getting near the long tunnel, and the little boy was beginning to feel fearful, he opened the envelope, and what do you think he found inside ? He found this text of Scrip- ture, written in large lettere : ' What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee ' ; and that told him that the best cure for fear is to think of God and His presence. Wherever we go, God is always there to take care of those who put their trust in Him. But ' no man hath seen God at any time,' and we cannot form a picture of Him in the mind's eye. Quite true : but we can easily form a picture of the Lord Jesus Christ when we read the beautiful stories given of Him in the Gospels. We read how He stilled the storm and said to the frightened disciples, ' Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith ? ' and His presence will be with us in our storms, as it was with them in theirs, for He says, ' Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world'. Let us all believe in Him and in His presence, and that will give us comfort and rest. — F. H. Robarts, Sunday Morning Talks, p. 6. MOUNTAIN CLIMBINQ Exodus xxxiv. 2, Moses on this occasion was bidden to climb Mount Sinai, and reach the summit to receive the Law from God, so that he might give it to the people at the foot. He could not become a lawgiver except on two conditions : first, that he should get up early and be ready in the morning ; and second, that he should climb the mountain until he reached the very summit Now, there is very little done in life except on these conditions. A man must begin early and climb patiently, if he would do anything noble here. We will therefore talk a little about mountain climbing, and apply it to our everyday life. 1. The be.st time to climb is early in the morn- ing, before the heat of the sun is powerful. How true this is of life ! The best time to do difficult tasks, and thus climb patiently toward some position of usefulness and honour which we long to occupy, is very early in life. Those who have lived noble lives have as a rule striven when very young. 2. Climbers as a rule start in high spirits. They run on, and j ump over every brook and boulder, and it would appear from their rapid progress that they would soon reach the summit ; but as they proceed they learn to reserve their strength, and thus use it more wisely, as it will be all required before they have finished their task. How often have we seen this in life ! Little boys and girls begin life with great enthusiasm. They rush at everything, and spend a great deal of energy unnecessarily, but by and by they learn to make the best use of the strength they have, as they will have none to spare after they have done all their duty. 3. Climbers are also apt at first to take short cuts. They do not see why they should take the winding or the zigzag path. But they have only to do this a few times to learn that those who made the path knew the way far better than they do, for by taking a short cut they have only got into difficulties and dangers, such as bogs and precipices. So in life, at first we are inclined to make a way for ourselves, and not to follow in the old paths which others have trodden before us, but sooner or later we learn that our own conceit and waywardness have only resulted in trouble, and we look with greater deference to the example of others who have walked the path of life before us. We get less impatient and more teachable as we go on. 4. Even when climbers follow the right way, they have, at times, to pass dangerous spots, where the path narrows near a steep precipice over which some one, perhaps, has at some time or other fallen. On such spots there is often a board fixed bearing words like these : ' Dangerous ! a man has fallen over this precipice '. Then we have to take warning, and keep as far away as possible from the danger. How often this is the case in life ! There are so many dangers — sins and habits — against which we are warned. God has in His Word graciously given us many such warnings. Blessed are those who take warning, and keep as far as possible from the sin which has made others so grievously to fall ! 5. Some climbers have to carry heavy burdens, while others have not only their burdens carried for them, but are carried themselves. So in life. Some are born in such circumstances of poverty and trial that their path is a very steep one, and they have many burdens to carry. Others are born in such circumstances of wealth and ease, that they and their burdens are carried most of the way. But how much more noble it is to climb and do our duty well than to be only a burden to others ! How much sweeter will be the joy on the summit for all the difficulties which we have patiently overcome on the way. 6. The climbers have occasionally to pass through cloud and mist on the way upward, but if they per- severe they pass through the cloud into the clear sunshine above, and then how beautiful the very clouds will be when beneath our feet ! Yea, some- times we see the lightning flash and hear the thunder roar, but we are above all, and can smile at the storm and the darkness. So if you live long enough you will find that you have to pass through storm and darkness, but if you have the grace to persevere, and trust in your God, you will at last be led through the darkness into light, through trouble into joy. 7. Climbers, too, have viany disappointments on the way. They ask others how far it is before they reach the summit, and they get many conflicting answers, so that they scarcely know what to expect. Then again they see a lofty crag with a pole stuck on the top of it, and they say, 'There, if we can reach that we shall have gained the summit '. They reach it, and then find that there are other heights towering far above them which have yet to be climbed. How often this is the case in life ! FrequentJy we 83 Ver. 29. EXODUS XXXIV Ver. 29. think that we have only to go so much farther, or to reach such and such a height, and then all will be done, but we find that we were greatly misled by many to whom we listened, and that the height which we thought was the highest only enabled us to see better how far we had yet to go. Yet we ai'e not sorry, for even our mistaken hopes for a time have helped us to go on. It is well that God has not shown us all the future at the start of life. 8. Many difficulties and dangers will be avoided, and success will be assured, if we have a safe and experienced guide. There are some mountains which cannot be ascended safely except with a guide. Our life is a mountain of that kind. We cannot reach the goal unless we have Jesus for a guide. He has given us an example that we should follow His steps. May we all follow Him very closely, and we shall pass safely through every danger and every cloud, and at last stand upon the summit where the light of God for ever rests, and from which we shall review with gratitude all the winding paths of life, and all the difficulties and dangers through which we have passed. — David Davies, Talks to Men, Women, and Chil- dren, p. 201. THE BEAUTY OF GOODNESS ' Moses wist not that the skin of his face shone while he talked with him.' —Exodus xxxiv. 29. There was once a great artist in Italy, whose name, Michael Angelo, some of you may have hearii. He was one of the greatest painters and sculptors who have ever lived, and he spent his life trying to fashion the most noble and beautiful faces and forms that could be made. He made hundreds of them, both on canvas and in marble and bronze ; but at last he succeeded in making one which was incompar- able. I have never seen it, though I have seen many casts and engravings and photographs of it ; but I hope some day to go to Rome and see it, and so doubtless will some of you. Now, this noblest image of manly beauty which the art of man has ever produced is the same face as our text speaks about. It is Moses, when he was coming down from Mount Sinai, after being forty days and forty nights alone with God, and when his face shone with a Divine light, although he wist not that this heavenly beauty was there. I dare say beauty is something which you all covet. You would like to be called beautiful ; perhaps there is nothing else you would like so much. Well, let us see what we can learn about it from this description of Moses. ' He wist not that his face shone while he talked with him.' There are three things we can learn from these words : (1) True beauty is from within ; (2) It does not know itself; (3) It does good to othei-s unawaj'es. I. It Comes from Within. — There is an old Scotch saying you may have heard, that ' beauty is only skin- deep '. This is partly true, but partly it is quite un- true. There is a kind of beauty which is merely skin-deep ; it consi.sts in delicacy of complexion, and the soft, well-proportioned features of the face. Many children have it, and it is very charming as long as it lasts. But it does not generally last long : it is the prey of every accident and disease ; and the wind and weather of yeai-s rub it all off. But there is a kind of beauty which is not merely skin-deep and does not pass away. It comes from within, and instead of fading, only increases as years pass by. It comes from the mind and the heart. You know the face is a miiTor of what is in the mind and the heart. If you sit for a long time watching a face you are well acquainted with, you can almost tell what is going on in the mind within. You see it reflected in the eyes and the movements of the features. If a person is melancholy and sunk in deep sorrow, the light foi'sakes the eyes, and a dark cloud seems to rest on the whole features. On the other hand, if the heart within is blithe and men-y, the eyes sparkle, and sunshine spreads over the brow and cheeks. If, therefore, the state of the heart and of the mind be permanently melancholy, the face will take a melancholy cast ; it it be low and mean, the features will become sordid and repulsive ; but if it be happy and elevated, a bright, noble expression will settle on the face. I remember once alighting at a London railway station and finding myself in the midst of a huge, pushing, surging crowd of the rascality of the East End, who were trying to get into a train which was to carry them to some suburban races. The air was resounding with oaths, and heavy with the fumes of drink. But oh, the faces ! They still haunt me ; the devil's mark stamped deep on them. What his- tories of vice they exhibited ! The sins within had risen up and stood looking out of window through the ugliness and repulsiveness of their features. On the contrary, where there is a self-forgetting heart within, rejoicing in doing good to others, the good feeling streams up into the face. Some people thus carry sunshine wherever they go. This is the beauty which comes from within. But nothing can make the heart so happy and keep it so happy as the love of Christ ; and nothing can make the mind so noble as communion with God. It was from this that the noble beauty sprang which shone in the face of Moses. He had been up forty days and forty nights in Mount Sinai. What was he doing there ? He was talking with God ; he was brooding on God's love ; his mind was filled with great, new thoughts of God. This it was which made his face to shine. It was this, too, which made the face of the martyr Stephen shine when they were about to stone him : his heart was full of the love of Christ ; he cried out, ' I see heaven open, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God '. The Bible says Stephen's face had the beauty of an angel's. What is it that makes the angels beautiful ? It is that they see God ; their hearts are filled with His love and their minds with high thoughts of Him. And this will be the source of the beauty in the glorified bodies of the saints. It will come 84 Ver. 29. EXODUS XXXIV Ver. 29. from within, the radiant soul making the body radiant. II. It Does not Know Itself. — People who are beautiful sometimes set their beauty off with orna- ments. For instance, a simple blue or pink ribbon clasping the head will sometimes set off a fine brow ; or a rose stuck in the hair will set off' the whole figure; or a jewel of some kind appropriately placed can do it. People who have no taste do not know the use of ornaments ; they stick them on anywhere, merely to show that they possess them, or to exhibit their wealth. But persons of taste never put on an ornament except to bring out some point of beauty. Now there is an ornament which more than any other sets off the true beauty of which I have been speaking — the beauty which comes from within. It is the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit — the orna- ment of humility. Moses wist not that his face shone. He had been so absorbed in gazing at the glory of God up in the moun- tain, and, as he came down the hill, he was still so absorbed in the exalted thoughts with which his mind was filled, that he had not a thought to spare for himself, and never knew that he was different fi-om other men. Indeed, I believe that if he had been thinking about himself, if he had been anxious to know whether any change was taking place in his countenance, if he had been considering how noble and beautiful he was becoming, and how deep an im- pression he would make upon others, his countenance would never have shone at all. It spoils all when we know about our own excel- lences. If a boy is very clever and brilliant, you know how it spoils people's admiration for him, if, after speaking of his cleverness, they have to add, ' Yes, but he knows it '. Those who have the kind of beauty I have spoken of as skin-deep very often know about it, and this spoils it altogether ; for a face cannot be truly beautiful, however symmetrical its features or however fine its complexion may be, if the stamp of self-conceit is on it. But the goodness which conies from within does not know about itself: it has no time for such thoughts ; if they were to prevail, it would be lost. But how are we to get this beauty without know- ing about it ? How can we strive after it unless we think about it ? It is got by thinking about other things. Moses got it by gazing on the glory of God, by thinking of His love and His wisdom and His majesty. So it is by being often in the mount with God that you will get it ; that is, by being much in prayer. It is by filling your minds with thoughts of God out of His holy VVord. It is by being friends of the good and gentle and pure. It is by forgetting yourselves, and taking an interest in others, and living for the sake of making them happy. A godly soul is like a great globe-lamp : as long as it is thinking about Christ's love, and God's majesty, and the good of men, it is brilliant, and its light becomes brighter and brighter ; but as soon as it begins to think about itself, smoke mingles with the flame, and the globe turns dim. III. It does Good Unawares. — Moses did not know that his countenance was shining, but whenever he came within sight of the multitude at the foot of the mountain, they saw it, and it produced the deepest impression on them. It did them more good than anything else could have done. It told them what he had seen in the mount. It assm-ed them how blessed it was to be near God. It made them feel their own wickedness ; for they fell back from Moses in terror, as Peter did from Christ, when he cried, ' Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord '. So those who have the beauty which comes from within do good unawares. — James Stalker, The New Song, p. 154 86 LEVITICUS THE TWO BIRDS (In Ascension-tide) ' But he shall let go the living bird out of the city into the open fields.' — Leviticus xiv. 53. Thebe were two little birds. The priest killed one over the running water, and then he dipped the living bird into the blood of the dead bird, and into the water, and then he took the living bird, and let it go, let it fly ' out of the city into the open fields '. Do you see it ? What does it mean ? Can you think ? It means Jesus. ' The dead bird ' and ' the living bird ' ai'e Jesus. A great many things go to make a picture of Jesus. The two birds here make a picture of Jesus. ' The dead bird ' is Jesus dying on the cross ; ' the living bird ' is Jesus going up into heaven. And as ' the living bird ' was dipped into the blood of the dead bird,' it is to|teach us that Jesus went to heaven because He died, as it says in the Philip- pians : ' He became obedient unto death. . . where- fore God also hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a name which is above every name '. Do you see ? The dead bu-d and the living bird both Jesus ; ' the dead bud ' Jesus dying, ' the living bud ' Jesus going to heaven, — going to heaven because He died. 'The chariots of God are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels.' 'Thou hast ascended up on high. Thou hast led captivity captive ; Thou hast received gifts for men.' I believe these thousands of thousands of angels were there to make a grand pro- cession into heaven. ' Lift up your heads, O ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors ; and the King of Glory shall come in. Who is this King of Glory ? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord, mighty in battle.' That was the other side of the cloud. Angels and archangels making a grand triumphant entry ; the gates opening their heads, and letting in the King of kings. So he went to heaven. ' The bird ' flew away into the open fields. What happened there ? Where did He go ? Can you tell me ? To the highest place. To what is called ' God's right hand '. God has not 'hands,' He is a Spirit; but it means the highest place in heaven. There He sat. Why did He sit ? Shall I tell you ? He had done His work ; so He rested. He was going to stay. When you are going to stay anywhere, you sit. He was the King's equal, equal with God. We do not sit in the king's presence unless told to do so. If you go to see the queen, you must not sit down till the queen tells you to do so. But He was equal with the King of kings. He was ' the King of kings '. He sat on His throne. Those are the reasons why He sat there. What is He doing there? Can you tell me? I can think of four things— can you ? What is He doing there ? Can you think ? There He is, and He is there for us. He is holding ground for us. It is as much as to say, ' Where I am, there you shall be also '. Just as we keep a place for anyone, so He is keeping a place for us. Another thing. He is governing us. ' He is the Head over all things to His Church.' A third thing is. He is praying for us. A fourth thing — He is sending us the Holy Ghost to prepare us to come there ; and at the same time He is preparing a place for us when we are prepared. Are you ready ? Are you prepared ? There is a prepared place for prepared children. "That is what He is doing there, in heaven. There we must leave Him — till He comes again. Now I want to go back to Bethany. There were the disciples 'gazing up into heaven'. They were ' worshippirtg '. They were quite right. They wor- shipped. But perhaps they were gazing too far. Some people are very fond of being always gazing, always in a sort of reverie — thinking, not doing, wasting their time. So while they were gazing two men came to them, in white apparel, and they said, ' Why stand ye here gazing? Go to Jerusalem, as you were told, and wait for the Holy Ghost.' It was as much as if the angels had said — ' You will see Him again. Do not be unhappy ! " This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven shall so come, in like manner, as ye have seen Him go into heaven".' I want you to think a little more about it. We may call Ascension Day ' the Coronation Day ' ; the crowning day ; crowning King Jesus ! He was always Lord, always King ; but now He went up, as a Man, to be crowned as a Man, ' King of kings and Lord of lords '. St. John says (Rev. xix. 12) that he saw Him thus: 'On His head were many crowns '. Several people have seen Jesus in heaven. Do you know who ? St Stephen saw Him. St. Paul almost, perhaps quite. St. John saw Him. And He had ' many crowns '. St. Paul says that the people, to whom he was useful, were his crowns ; speaking of the people who were converted through his instru- mentality, he says, ' Ye are my crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus '. I suppose it is the same with Jesus. His people are His crowns. Would you like, on the great Coronation day, to put a crown on the head of Jesus ? You can, if you give your heart to Him now ; you will be a crown upon His head then. If you are His child, you are His crown. If you bring anybody to love Christ you will put a 86 Ver. 9. LEVITICUS XIX Ver. 9. crown on the head of Jesus. Even a little boy or girl can put a crown on the head of Jesus, Try to do it. Crown Him ! One of the greatest events that ever happened in the world was when the Roman emperors used to come from their grand battles and victories, and go in triumph uji the Appian hill. They were wonder- ful things. Dill you ever read of them ? I will tell you a little about it. It was the custom for them to have their enemies — those whom they had conquered — tied to their chariot wheels, and so they dragged them along by their sida So our Great Conqueror ' led captivity captive '. He led His enemies captives. When Jerusalem was taken. His enemies were taken captive. But the great thing was when the Roman emperors came back and had their triumphs, they used to fling very large gifts upon the people. Just what Christ did. ' He hath gone up on high, and received gifts for men.' And He flings his gifts — lai'ge and free — to all who wish or seek them. He is a Great King, and He has great gifts to give you. He has gone up to be a King for ever. Expect great things from Him because He is a King. Very soon you will die. What will happen then ? What will happen when you die ? Your body will be put into the grave — ;just as a little seed is put into the ground. Not to stay there. There it will be for a time. But where will your soul be? If God's child, in Paradise. You will be in Paradise. The ' bird ' flies to Paradise. Then, when Jesus comes, your body will come up out of the grave, and your spirit will come up out of Paradise, and they will meet, and your spirit will go into that body again, and it will be one bird then. The dead bird and the living bird then both one living bird ; and it will fly away — fly away, up above the blue sky — all among the stare, and beyond the stars ; fly away, free and happy ' in the open fields ' — nothing to tie you down then, nothing to clog you to earth. Then there will be no sin. You will be free then. You will fly away ! you will flv away I ' into the open fields ! ' into the open fields I — James Vaughan, Sermons to Children (4th Series), p. 805. POLITENESS Leviticus xix, g, etc. Eos my ' Words ' this morning I propose to read four of my favourite texts which are little known. They form a lovely sermon in themselves. They are from a strange Old Book which is rarely read — Leviticus. ' When ye reap the harvest of your land thou shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy harvest. And thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, neither shalt thou gather every grape of thy vineyard ; thou shalt leave them for the poor and stranger : I am the Lord your God. Thou shalt not curse the deaf, nor put a stumbling-block before the blind, but shalt fear thy God : I am the Lord. Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God : I am the Lord.' Now are not those lovely verses worth remembering, teaching us that we ought to be thoughtful and polite and kind ? The lesson that I read from the 1st Epistle of Saint Peter held two words which some of you noticed, I dare say — ' Be courteous '. And some- times we are inclined to wonder that that should be in the Bible ! Yet when you look in the Bible with eyes that understand, you will see that the Bible is full of courtesy and kindness. You remember the story of Moses' politeness, how one day he found seven girls together drawing water out of a well and filling the troughs for the sheep to drink from, and there came a lot of rude men who drove the maids away, and Moses was angry, and he said, ' Shame ! shame ! Ladies first ! ' And the lovely part of that story is that one of those girls afterwards became Moses' wife. Another story just as familiar to you is how a poor widow woman — a foreigner too ! was gleaning in a stranger's fields, and the bluff' old farmer saw her, and he said to his reapers, ' Now, mind you drop a few handfuls of corn for her to pick up '. And they did it so that she did not know, and was not therefore ashamed. He might have gone to her and said, ' You ai-e very hungry, aren't you ? here's some corn for you ; it will keep you from starving ; now run home '. That would have shamed her. But although Boaz was a rough-handed, unpolished old farmer, who didn't wear tailor-made clothes, he was a gentleman ! Politeness and courtesy are small things to speak of, but they are not small things by any means. It is very useful sometimes to look into the history of words. The origin of ' polite ' is strangely interest- ing. Some say that ' polite ' comes from an old Greek word that stands for 'city'; and city life polishes people into being polite ! But we know very well that people who live in London are not all polite. There are some who say that ' polite ' is derived from polio, I polish or smooth. So that politeness is to life what lubricating oil is to engines. Politeness helps things along wonderfully ! Boys don't think much of it : ' Oh ! that is Miss Nancy all over — polite, indeed I ' Do you know that the stronger and gi'eater a man is, the more need there is for him to be polite and courteous ? For ' politeness ' means self- restraint, self-respect, self-sacrifice. ' Oh ! ' you say, ' surely not ! ' Now just you try — (it may be a hard effort, but it is worth making) — try to be polite as many times as you can to-day and to-morrow. See if it does not mean denying oneself in little things. And politeness on a large scale is heroism. Heroism is j ust politeness grown big. Now you and I cannot — if ever we want people to care for us and think kindly of us — afford not to be polite. ' Oh,' you say, ' I mean always to call a spade a spade.' No ! no I Please don't ! Sometimes it is far better not to call it anything, but to leave things unsaid ; to be kind, to be thoughtful is better than to keep on calling spades spades. 87 Ver. 32. LEVITICUS XIX Ver. 32. There is an old story told of Heni-y Ward Beecher which I have told before, but no matter ; it has so much beauty in it that it is lovely to tell. How one cold night he saw a little newsvendor's boy shivering ; his very teeth were chattering, so that he could hardly call out the names of the newspapers. Beecher, for pity, bought the whole sheaf of papers under the boy's arm, and said, ' I am afraid you are very cold to-night, my boy ! ' And the boy said, with a gulp, ' I was, sir, till you passed by '. An act of kindness puts warmth into the heart and joy into the brain. To go through life making sun- shine for other people is to be a Christian, for we read that Jesus ' pleased not Himself,' and ' went about doing good'. — Bernard J. Snell, The All- Unfolding Love, p. 77. THE ALMOND-TREE FLOURISHINQ ' Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God : I am the Lord.' — Leviticus xix. 32. It is of respect and reverence for the aged that my text speaks. Notice how strikingly and beautifully the commandment is expressed. It is not said. Rise up before the old, or the man whose hairs are hoary, but making the head itself as it were a person, the text reads, ' Rise up before the hoary head '. So, again, it is not. Honour the old man, though that is the meaning, but 'Honour the face of the old man'. What a fine picture the whole presents to our eye ! We seem to see some aged veteran, his hairs, changed with yeai-s and toils, falling down, white as almond blossoms, thinly, but gracefully around his temples ; his face tracked with little furrows, drawn by the plough of time ; a soft haze resting on it, for the shadows of decaying strength are mellowing and veiling the glow of life, yet with the light of long ex- perience gleaming out through it — we see him pacing slowly along, or entering some apartment, and as he comes youth and manhood rise to do him honour. They rise, for that is the instinctive gesture of re- spect. So people rise up to receive a guest. So worshippers rise to praise or pray. Now, if reverence is due to old age from all, it is most of all right that the young should render it. To you, therefore, who are still in childhood, I am anxious so to recommend the duty, that when you next see an old man, rich or poor, you may be touched by the sight of his hoary bail's, and give him respect. What I have to say will apply to the old whose char- acter does not shame their years. Alas ! there are some whose hoary heads are not a crown of glory to them, but a badge of disgrace. Even these must not be despised, but pitied and prayed for, and their white hairs should lead us to treat them tenderly. But let us take the face of an old man who has been a child of God, and we have something to read which ought to awaken your love and reverence. The face of the old man ! look at its wiinkles, and think what cares, and griefs, and watching, and working traced them there, and honour it for what it has seen. The face of the old man ! look at it again ; it speaks of failing nature, but it has a beauty of its own — honour it for what it is. The face of the old man ! it seems to gleam with a light belonging to another world. It is near the veil, and soon will look through it. Ah ! honour it for what it must soon see. These are the three reasons I would give you for respecting the aged. I. For What the Old Man has been, Honour Him. — There is something about all old objects that calls for our veneration. An old tree, for example, or an ' ivy-mantled tower,' though but a ruin. I remember one old tree tenderly. When I was a child it was a majestic plane, in the prime of beauty and strength. What a crown of broad leaves it used to put on in spring, and in winter how it used to toss its arms about, and battle with the blasts I As years passed, it bowed its lofty head slightly before the western winds ; and when I saw it last, with loosening root and battered boughs, it was like an old man stooping to the grave. I think, had some woodman's axe been ready to strike it, I could have prayed him to s]mre that tree. I know another far older, growing by the roadside, throwing its arms across the highway ; and when a stranger passes on the stage, his neighbour, belonging to the district, will somewhat proudly point it out, and expect a word of admiration for its bulk and age. You have seen a picture of the cedars of Lebanon that are still remaining. They are stately and beautiful in themselves ; but the most interesting thing is, that they have lived through many centuries, and are a few of ' all the multitude that are left '. This leads me to say that old things are especially venerated when we connect them with some historic event or scene. This makes Palestine such an in- teresting place to visit, so many Bible memories hang around every spot. What Scotsman can look without reverent feelings on the house, in one of the streets in Edinburgh, where John Knox lived ? What Christian man could visit unmoved the chapel in Chester where Matthew Henry preached, and the little vestry-room where he is said to have written much of his Commentary ? It is this principle we are speaking of that gives so much interest to our museums and old libraries. In a college library in Bristol they show you Bunyan's Concordance to the Scriptures. Suppose a child who has read ' The PUgrim's Progress ' to have the book put into his hand, and to be told, ' That is the Concordance John Bunyan used when he studied his Bible, and wrote his dream,' do you think he could toss it about like a common school-book ? Now, in all these cases where the objects are dead, we somehow give them, as it were, the feelings of the living. We think of them as having seen and felt what was passing in the world when they were young. But an old man has actually been such a witness of past things as we suppose them to be. He has beheld and suffered much, making him sage with experience. What stories he could tell ! Rise up before the hoary head when you think 88 Ver. 32. LEVITICUS XIX Ver. 32. what toils and trials have bleached these hairs to snow. Honour the face of the old man, when you consider that every line of that shrunk and furrowed countenance may be said to have its history, for years of the battle of life graved it. Rise up with deepest respect before the aged Christian. What an honourable man is an 'old dis- ciple,' a consistent follower of Jesus, grown grey in his IVIaster's service ! What battles in his soul he has fought ! what wrestlings in the closet he has had ! what blows from Satan ! what helps from God ! What lessons he has learned from the Bible, and in the furnace of trial ! What works he has wrought ! and what a work of the Holy Spirit's making he him- self is ! If you saw a beautiful statue coming from the hands of an artist, and knew what thought and care, and thousands of touches it cost him, you would see nothing so wonderfully formed and polished as a good old man's character. Rise up before him, for he is one of the pillars of the earth ; and say, ' My father, my father ! the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof ! ' In a word ; for what he has seen, for what he has suffered, and for what he has done, honour the face of the old man. But — II. For What he is, Give Honour to the Old Man. — There are two things about old age that should win your kindness and regard : It is beautiful, and it is dependent. And children, especially, should be touched with both. What ! you will perhaps say, do you think old age beautiful ? I do. I have seen many a beautiful face shrunk and puckered with age. It is not the beauty of childhood or youth that lies there, but it is beauty. It is a great mistake to think that old people must necessarily be disagreeable, unamiable, querulous. They often are, doubtless, but they need not be. They are often quite the opposite. ' The beauty of old men is the hoary head.' It is a fine thing even to look at — a finer thing to think of A child of God, with graces ripe for heaven, is very beautiful to see. And one of the charms about good old age is this — it comes back to the simplicity of childhood. It is with life as with the sun. See him at rising. His soft bright beams are sent aslant over the landscape : he climbs higher as the day goes on, till at noon he looks right down from his high seat in the sky ; but by and by he will sink down to the same level he started from in the morning, and shine with the same softened light ; only we will look on him with different eyes, and the air will be different, and the shadows will be turned the other way — not to get gradually shorter, but to deepen into night. So old age comes back to childhood's level. Some one has imagined a scene like this — a grandfather is coming to visit a son or daughter's hou.se ; and as he comes up the road, away the children rush to meet him — one carries off his staff, another claims the vacant hand, and a third frisks round about him, while the happy old man feels his heart younger among that second generation than when he gambolled with his own boys and girls thirty years before. Is not the sight a cheer to see ? III. For What he is Soon to be.— The light of earth is fading from the face of the old man. But there is another light soon to break upon his dim eye. And did you ever think that he is about to become young again ? In another world he will be a child of days, if they count days there. If an angel should ask him in heaven how old he is, he will not answer as he does here. But there is enough in the thought that he is soon to be away from us, to make us cherish him. I do not envy the man that can look without a feeling of awe on the death-bed of the humblest and poorest person. A dying man in one chamber and a living king in another — which should other men rather neglect ? Which is the worthier of re- verent watch ? That dying man's face is lying in the clear or the dark of the near eternity. There, too, the face of the old man must soon be — your own, in- deed, may be lightened or shadowed first, but his, you know, must soon be. You will not have him long. He is going away into the land of the unseen. He is going, if a Christian, into the presence of the King. He is going to leave your company for that of the glorified saints. Rise up before him, for ere you meet him again he may be standing before the throne. Honour him, for to-morrow he may be walking with angels — High in salvation, and the climes of bliss. Honour him, for he whose voice you heard reading or repeating to you some of David's psalms, and John's words to the little children, may soon be con- versing with David and John themselves. Rise up before him, for soon (let me speak it with reverence) the Saviour himself will step from his throne to wel- come him. ' Behold, I see the heavens opened,' said the martyr Stephen, 'and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God'. — J. Ed.mond, The Children's Church, p. 154. 89 NUMBERS THREE LINKS IN A QOLDEN CHAIN 'The Lord bless thee, and keep thee: The Lord make His face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee : The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee and give thee peace.' — Numbers vi. 24, 25, 26. At the end of the service in all our churches, j ust immediately before the congregation disperses, God's ministering servant, as you know, ' pronounces the blessing '. The words I have now read to you contain the form of blessing which Aaron the High Priest was commanded to pronounce over the children of Israel as they were journeying in the wilderness. It was a blessing doubtless which included in it young Hebrews as well as old. That child nestling in its mother's arms Aaron must have addressed when he said — ' The Lord bless Thee ', Yonder Hebrew boy or girl pluckmg the desert flower, or filling their little baskets with the morning manna: that blessing must have embraced them — ' The Lord bless Thee '. And will it be different now, think you, with Jesus, the Great High Priest of His Church ? No, when He was on earth how often have we thought of Him as blessing the little ones. And He is the ' same, yesterday and to-day and for ever '. ' He will bless them that fear the Lord, both small and great ' (Ps cxv. 13). Observe the blessing of the text is uttered three times. It reminds us of the mother bidding farewell to her sailor boy as he is for the first time leaving his home to go to sea, and to embark alone on the more dangerous waves of ' this troublesome world '. She pours upon him her blessing, as she kneels along with him in her chamber. Then she follows him to the door, and again imprints the part- ing kiss on his cheek. And, as if this were not enough, she stands on the path outside the porch waving the last signal of love as he vanishes from her sight on the distant highroad. ' As one,' says God, ' whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you ' (Is. Ixvi. 13). Let us look to this threefold blessing. I shall call it three links in a golden chain. I. God the Father ' Bless Thee and Keep Thee 1 ' I have just spoken of the tenderness of a mother's love. Let me speak now of the strong hand and gi-acious help of a father. In the dark winter night when the storm is raging loud, when the rain is battering on the roof, the wind sighing among the trees, the swinging branches striking against the window-pane, and the house rocking to its founda- tions— how safe the little child feels when he sees his father sitting by his bedside drawing the curtains around him ! With his hand locked in his he forgets the storm. His fears ai'e at an end, and laying his head on his pillow he goes to sleep again. It is so with your Heavenly Father — when you know you have His blessing, how happy you are ! — 'So giveth He His beloved sleep' (Ps. cxxvii. 2). However otherwise rough and arduous your journey through life may be, depend upon it, it will be a safe and a happy one if you begin it by saying in words I often quote to you : ' My Father, Thou shalt be the guide of my youth ! ' II. Qod the Son ' Make His Face to Shine upon Thee, and be Gracious unto Thee '. What could you do without the shining face, and the gracious love, and the finished work of Jesus ? The Israelites in the wilderness saw every morning a lamb brought out and sacrificed. The blessing of the text was never pronounced till after the shedding of blood on the altar of sacrifice. So there can be no blessing to you or to me, apart from the precious blood ot Christ. One of His names is ' the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world '. As the first thing the little Hebrew children heard in their tents in the morning was the bleating of the lamb, so would I like that every morning as you go to your knees in prayer, your eyes should fall on the Great Sacrifice. ' Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world ' (John i. 29). I have just spoken of God the Father 'blessing you '. But do you remember a beautiful verse which tells you how that blessing reaches ? If you will turn to the opening words of the Epistle to the Ephesians, you will there read : ' Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in Heavenly places in Christ '. It is the blood of Jesus which gives you peace. The Apostle speaks of ' peace through the blood of the cross '. III. Qod the Holy Ghost — ' Lift up His Counten- ance upon Thee, and give Thee Peace '. That ' Peace with God,' which I have just told you is purchased by the blood of Jesus, is secured and continued by the gracious work of the third Person in the Holy Trinity. Can you quote any verse which tells us this ? In Romans xv. 13, the Apostle prays that the saints to whom he wrote might be filled ' with all joy and peace in believing, that they might abound in hope by the power of the Holy Ghost '. Oh the blessing of having the Holy Spirit — the ' Dove of peace ' hovering over the soul ! What true peace He and He alone can confer ! Look just at one among many Bible illustrations. 90 Ver. 24. NUMBERS XIV., XV Vv. 37-89. See how quietly the Apostle Peter sleeps in his prison between the two jumed soldiers! (Acts xii. 6). He had much ti'uly to make him afraid, when he thought of the morrow and of cruel Herod's wrath and j udg- ment-seat. But he remembered the words of the Lord Jesus how He said — (and said specially to him as one of the Apostles), ' ^Vhen they shall deliver you up, take no thought beforehand what ye shall speak ; but whatsoever shall be given you in that hour, that speak ye, for it is not ye that speak but the Holy Ghost' (Matt. X. 17). Well may that Holy Spkit be called 'the Comforter'. The Apostle's last prayer to the Thessalonians is in very simple words ; you will easily carry it away in your memories. It is about this same ' God of peace'. 'Now the Lord of peace Himself give you peace, always, by all means' (2 Thess. iii. 16). 'By all means '. If you are the children of God, if you love God, and seek to please Him, then everything will help to increase your peace, and nothing will make you afraid. You will be able to do what Ezekiel speaks of, to sleep in the very wilderness and in the woods (Ezek. xxxiv. 25) : as if the darkness will be unable to frighten you, or the wild beasts and their bowlings to disturb and terrify you. You will sleep under the shadow of the Almighty's wings, and His angels will encamp about you ! ' Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace (or, as that word in the Hebrew is repeated to give it force, peace, peace) , whose mind is stayed on Thee ' (Is. xxv. 3) . — J. R. Macduff, Hosannas of the Children, p. 307. CALEB ' But ray servant Caleb, because he had another spirit with him, and hath followed me fully,' etc. — Numbers xiv. 24. I. Qod's Testimony Concerning Caleb. 1. He had another spirit with him. The contrast is between the spirit which he cher- ished and (a) that of the spies who brought back a discouraging report ; (6) that of the peo|5le who were thereby roused to murmuring and rebellion. The spirit of Caleb was : — (i) A conciliatory spirit. ' Blessed are the ])eacemakers.' (ii) A cheerful spirit. ' All things work together for good,' etc. (iii) A prompt spirit. ' Let us go up at once.' (iv) A courageous spirit. ' He stood almost alone.' (v) A trustful spirit. 'The Lord is with us.' 2. He followed the Lord fully. One of the greatest needs of the present age in the Church and in the world is thoroughness. (i) Only a thorough Christian is of much real service in the cause of Christ. (ii) Only a thorough Christian enters fully into the enjoyment which Christ's service affords. (iii) Only a thorough Christian will remain stead- fast in the hour of trial. II. The Reward which God Promised Caleb. ' Him will I bring,' etc. It is useless to pretend to be indifferent to rewards. The promise was fulfilled at last, God nas promised something better for us. Our hopes and expectations rest upon the Word of God. ' TTie I.«rd hath said.' — Seeds and Saplings, p. 64. THE BLUE RIBBON 'And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, Speak unto the children of Israel, and bid them make them fringes in the borders of their garments throughout their generations, and that they put upon the fringe of the borders a ribband of blue : and it shall be unto you for a fringe, that ye may look upon it, and remember all the commiuidments of the Lord, and do them.' — Numbers xv. 37-39. Don't think I am going to give you a lesson in dress- making. I could not if I tried. Dressmaking has alwavs seemed to me to be something as wonderfid and as grand as shipbuilding or engine-making. In- deed, I think there is only one thing which ladies do that is more mysterious — and that is bonnet-building ! Nobody — no man or boy, at any rate — can ever hope to undei-stand how that is done ! I have watched, and watched, and tried to find out how a dress was made, but what with gores and gussets, and tucks and plaitings, and other strange things, I have got quite lost and bewildei'ed, and made to feel that I was only a man after all. But I do know something about the fringes which the Jews had on their garments ; know more about them perhaps than even mother does, though she could make a dress and I couldn't You see, this comes in with my business, and she says it is no business of hers ; and yet I think there is something she might leam from it too. Anyway, there is some- thing to be leanit that may do ws good. The Jews were to be a sepai'ate people : that is, they were not to mix themselves up with other nations and be like them. They were to show wherever they went and in whatever they did that they were the Lord's people — that their God was Jehovah, and not an idol. And so the Lord commanded them to wear a peculiar fringe on the edge of their garment, with a blue thread or cord running through it, so that whenever they looked upon it they would remember they were the Lord's people, and would behave ac- cordingly— and whenever other people saw them they would know that these were Jews and not heathens, and expect them to behave differently. It was a good distinction to have — good at the first — for it helped the peopla to keep right, j ust as his uniform helps to keep the soldier up to the mark for fear he should bring disgrace to his regiment. But by and by the Jews made a great fuss about this fringe. They had it trimmed up in all sorts of curious ways, with all sorts of curious meanings. They had four tassels on the fringe, and these tassels had to be made of eight white threads, and one of these had to be twisted round the others seven times and then tied in a double knot, and then wound round eight times and tied in a double knot, and then 91 Ver. 38. NUMBERS XV Ver. 38. eleven times and a double knot — and a great deal more of the same kind, without which the tassel was not thought to be perfect. In fact they came to make so much about the ft-inge of their garments, that some of their foolish-wise men said the chief thing in the Bible was what it said about the fringes, and one great man (his name was Rabbi Joseph Ben Rabba) was so particular about this, that when he was coming down a ladder one day he step}">ed on one of the threads and tore it off, and he would not budge from that step till the fringe was repaired. They had come, indeed, to think so much of that fringe that they made it broader and broader till it became a kind of veil to come between them and God, and Jesus showed up their foolishness when He spoke against them for ' enlarging the borders of their garments '. What God had meant to be a help to them, they had come at last to make a hindrance — as a great many people have done in many ways when once they have begun to make more of the thing itself than of what it was meant to do or meant to teach. The Jews still wear a garment with this fringe upon it. Yes, but in this country they take good care you shall not see it : they wear it now under their outer garments, and so they think they are keeping the command to wear fringes, while at the same time they are getting off being known as Jews. ITiat is like a soldier keeping his uniform in a box, while he goes about dressed as a civilian. Was that what his uni- form was given him for ? No indeed ! He is no true soldier who is ashamed to show his colours, and he is no true Jew who wears the tassels and the fringe, but takes good care nobody shall see them. But sometimes there are Christians who do some- thing like this. God doesn't ask us to show that we are Christians by the kind of clothes we wear, but He does ask us to show it, and show it everywhere, by the kind of hearts we have. Wherever we are and whatever we do, we should make it clear that we are Christ's. But some do not When they are in chm-ch, or among good people, they show the fringe and the ta-ssels, as it were — they speak of good things, and look like good people — but when they are in the world and among the wicked, they hide the fringe and the tassels, so to speak — they do things and say things just as the people do and say who are round about them. Is that right ? Is that honest ? Is that true ? No, no ! It is false, false, cheating and deceiving othei's and themselves. Don't you be of that sort ; never be ashamed of your colours. Wherever you are and whatever you do, see that you always make it clear that you are Christ's boy or Christ's girl. You don't need to have a hem to your garment, but you should have a hem — a sacred hem to your heart. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Pew, p. 187. THE BLUE RIBBON 'A ribband of blue.' — Numbers xv. 38. God gave to His ancient people the Jews the Ten Commandments of the moral law ; but He also gave them a great many others. The Ten Commandments were spoken by the voice of God amidst the thunders £ind lightnings of Mount Sinai, and they were after- wards written by the finger of God upon two tablets of stone ; while the numerous other commandments were spoken by the voice of Moses, and written down in the Books of Moses. The Lord said by His pro- phet Hosea, long afterwards, regarding the people's disobedience, ' Though I write My law for Ephraim in ten thousand precepts, they are counted as a strange thing '. Here in this passage we have a commandment about wearing ' a ribband of blue '. I. What was this ribband ? (The word in English may be spelt in four different ways : ribband, ribbon, riband, and ribon.) It was a part of the outer or upper garment which the Jew wore. That garment had fringes or tassels at the four corners, and each fringe was to be fastened at the edge of the robe with this ribband. The garment was worn over the shoulders like a plaid, and was so folded that the four comers with their tassels hung down. The colour of this ribband — or, as it is in the Revised Version, ' cord ' — was hlue. Blue is the colour of the sky, and thus it naturally reminds of heaven. It is the colour of what is true and sterling — ' true blue,' — and thus it reminds of the God of heaven. The Scottish Covenanters adopted blue as their colom", in contradistinction to the royal red ; and so one of our poets speaks of ' Presbyterian true blue '. What was the use of this blue ribband ? Why were the Jews to wear it? The words which follow our text (verses 39 and 40) tell us, 'That ye may look upon it, and remember all the commandments of the Lord, and do them,' ' and be holy unto your God '. The ribband of blue was like the facings on the uniform of a famous regiment. It was like the badge or livery by which the servants of a nobleman are distinguished. The Israelite wore God's livery. He was a marked man in his own eyes, and in the eyes of the heathen around him. The Hebrew nation were holy to the Lord — ' a peculiar people — ' God's very own. What about the wearing of the blue ribband ? All Jews were to wear it — ' both young men and maidens, old men and children '. The law was binding upon all persons, of every age, and of both sexes. The Jews judged that even blind people must wear the ribband ; because, though they could not see it themselves, others could. The Lord Jesus Christ wore it just like others ; He felt that ' thus it became Him to fulfil all righteousness '. And it was prob- ably the fringe which hung over His shoulder — called ' the hem of His garment ' — which the diseased woman touched in the crowd, and by the touching of which she was healed. The sacred badge was also to be worn always and everywhere, and in all circum- stances. The Jew was to remember that ' the eyes of the Lord ai'e in every place,' and that he himself was never to be ' off duty '. 92 Ver. 17. NUMBERS XXI Ver. 17. II. Now, all this may suggest to us much that we can think of with profit. God does not indeed ask you and me to wear ' a ribband of blue'. The 'ten thousand precepts ' which God gave to Israel have passed away, and this precept among them ; but the Ten Words which were s])oken from Sinai and laid up in the ark of the covenant remain. In our country members of the Order of the Garter wear a blue ribbon ; and so the word has come to be used regarding the attainment of an object of great ambition. Those who abstain from wine and strong drink in some cases wear a blue ribbon as a sign of the pledge which they have taken. But the Hebrew law on the subject is no longer in force. God employs other means to remind you and me of His connnandments. Our memories are as treacher- ous, and our hearts as deceitful, as those of ancient Israel were. And ' He knoweth our frame ; He remembereth that we are dust '. ' We have not an High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities.' So the Lord in His goodness has surrounded us with aids to knowledge and obedience. The Bible is one reminder. The Hebrews, while they were sojourning in the wilderness, had no Bible. And even after they were settled in the land of Canaan, the Old Testament grew up most slowly, and very few of the people were able to possess copies even of a small part of it. How different it is with us in these days ! God has given His Church a completed Bible, and we all have copies of the Book in our hands. No Christian home is without one. And all the commandments of God are written in this blessed Book. The Lord's Supper is another reminder. It is a memorial of Jesus Christ — of His death, of His dying love, of the nature of His salvation, and of His pro- mise to come again. ' As often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord's death till He come.' The Supper keeps this great event, and its meaning, before our mind's eye. And it calls up within the hearts of those who love the Lord Jesus a crowd of holy thoughts and feelings. The Holy Spirit within us is also a reminder. He dwells within the Church now, as He did not dwell within the Jewish Church. In the days of the 'ribband of blue,' His influences were given only to one small nation, and for the most part only to a few outstanding men in it, such as leaders, prophets, or kings. But now God pours out His Spirit upon all flesh — upon the mass of the people as a whole, and upon each single believer. He puts His Spirit within His people's hearts, and so writes His law there. The Comforter teaches us all things, and brings all Christ's commands ' to our remembrance '. — Charles Jerdan, Messages to the Children, p. 26. THE WELL OF GRACE ' Then Israel sang this song, Spring up, O well ; sing ye unto it.' — Numbers xxi. 17. It is curious that Holy Scripture says nothing about the well of Beer except the brief allusion made in the book of Numbere. Yet the remembrance of that deliverance, and the blessings brought by that spring, remained in the memories of the Jews, and fashioned itself into strange traditions. And it must have caused great joy. The [people slaked their thir.st at the fountain, filled their bowls, watered their cattle, and then burst forth into that .song of joy, of which the Book of Numbers contains a fragment. In the opening words, I think, we are reminded of another hot day, many hundreds of years later, when another lawgiver was weary and faint, and sat by another well, and promised other and more refreshing water. ' Then cometh He to a city of Samaria, which is called Sychar, near to the parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son Joseph. 'Now Jacob's well was there. Jesus therefore, being wearied with His journey, sat thus on the well : and it was about the sixth hour.' What is that water of life ? Is it not the joy, peace, and comfort of the Holy Ghost — in a word, the spiritual spring in your hearts ? You have all of you there, deep down in your hearts, a little fountain of grace, whence flow forth holy thoughts, earnest desires. In Flanders there is a pretty legend told of a place called Temsche. A clear fountain was in a farmer's field. He was a churlish man, and would not let the villagers go into his field to draw water from it, one hot summer when the land was parched and all the wells and pools were dry. Then a holy maiden, living there, went and filled a sieve with water, and shook it over the neighbouring common, and wherever a drop fell from the sieve there sprang up a living fountain. Now the old Jewish nation was much like that cross-grained farmer ; it would keep Divine grace to itself alone : it would have the living fountain of spiritual life for its own use only, and would deny it to the Gentile world. Then came holy Church, and took up the living water, given her by Christ, her founder, and she scattered, and still scatters it, over all the wide earth : and in the soul of everv baptised Christian up springs a fountain of spiritual life. How many a fountain of life there is ! a little fountain opened by God, springing up for eternity. 'Spring up, O well; sing ye unto it,' says our text. It was the song of the Israelites when thev saw the clear water bubble up out of the dry dead sand. And shall not we sing out and rejoice too at the sight of the fountains opened around us, on all sides, m all hearts ? Spring up blessed, precious Grace of God, in fountains over the whole earth, purifying it, n)aking its dry places blossom as the rose, glad and beauteous as the garden of the Lord. Aye ! ever will it flow in faithful souls, ever will it sparkle with the light of Heaven shining on it, ever will it leap up, reflecting Heaven ! In each heart is that heavenly opened well — but in what condition is it ? Too often choked with dirt and stones, and overgrown with noxious weeds. 93 Vv. 13, 21. NUMBERS XXII Vv. 13, 21 Do not allow the little wells of conscience to get clogged with worldly cares, selfish thoughts, and sin- ful desires. You must labour at them, and keep them clean. The princes, we read, dug with their iron-shod staves. So do ye. Clear away all that defiles the spring of conscience : tear out all that chokes it, remove the earth, the stones — that is the worldly cares and fleshly lusts that war against the spirit : search the heart with great care, by self- examination, by the rule of God's commandments, on your knees, asking the help of God, fearfully, diligently, earnestly, penitentially, and never doubt but the spring will leap up clear and fresh again. BALAAM ' And Balaam rose up in the morning, and said unto the princes of Balak, Get you into your land : for the Lord refuseth to give me leave to go with you. ' And Balaam rose up in the morning, and saddled his ass, and went with the princes of Moab.' — Numbers xxii. 13 and 21. What was Balaam's prime mistake? I think it was this, that he trifled with his conscience. At first, when the princes of Moab asked him to go with them, he knew perfectly well that it was wrong. Probably, if he had spoken out like a man, they would never have asked him again. But he began saying to him- self, ' What a pity that I should lose all this money ! Might not I go ? Might not I just try again if God will let me go ? What does it matter if it is a little wrong ? How do I know that anything worse will ever come of it ? ' Ah ! but this is just what it is so fatal to say. God speaks once to the human soul, and speaks loudly ; but if you disobey His voice, it soon sinks to a whisper. For it has been well said that in worldly things second thoughts are proverbi- ally wiser than the first, but in spiritual things it is first thoughts which are the wisest. Your own ex- perience, although not a long one, will tell you that, when a sin first presented itself to your mind, you knew it to be wrong, utterly wrong, but that, if you set about asking yourself how wrong it was, and whether it was not less wrong than it had seemed at first, you ended pretty well by thinking it to be right. Believe me, the only way of doing sometimes what is manly is to do it at once and without thinking twice about it. For you know there is a voice which tells you what to do, and what not to do. I do not speak of it in any philosophical terms. But look back upon your life ; has there not been a time when you have seemed to hear, as cleai-ly as you hear me now within this Chapel, something which said to you, ' The thing you are going to do is a sin ; you must not do it ' ? Have you done it, all the same ? Then let me tell you a simple story which was told twenty years and more ago from this same pulpit by one of the most eminent of Harrow masters, and which is so appropriate to the argument I am using that I cannot deny myself the pleasure of repeating it, although there may be some among the masters here who heard it then. ' When I was a little boy,' a good and great man said, ' in my fourth year, one fine day in spring, my father led me by the hand to a distant part of the farm, but soon sent me home alone. On the way I had to pass a little pond, then spreading its waters wide ; a rhodora in full bloom, a rare flower which gi-ew only in that locality, attracted my attention, and drew me to the spot. I saw a little spotted tor- toise sunning itself in the shallow water at the root of the flowering shrub. I lifted the stick I had in my hand to strike the harmless reptile ; for though I had never killed any creature, yet I had seen other boys out of sport destroy birds and squirrels and the like, and I felt a disposition to follow their wicked example. But all at once something checked my little arm, and a voice within me said, clear and loud, "It is wrong". I held my uplifted stick in wonder at the new emotion, the consciousness of an involuntary but inward check upon my actions, till the tortoise and the rhodora both vanished from my sight. I hastened home and told the tale to my mother, and asked what it was that told me "it was wrong". She wiped a tear from her eye, and taking me in her arms, said : " Some men call it conscience, but I prefer to call it the voice of God in the soul of man. If you listen and obey it, it will speak clearer and clearer, and always guide you right ; but if you turn a deaf ear and disobey, then it will fade out little by little, and leave you in the dark and without a guide. Your life depends on heeding that little voice." ' I. There are some people who make a boast, as it were, of having what I may call a loose or easy conscience. They think it a sign of intellectual light to be free from conscientious scruples. They say, ' Oh ! yes, no doubt there was a time when it was thought wrong to touch or to read newspapers and secular books on Sundays, or to go to a theatre, or to participate in dancing or card-playing or any such thing ; but these were Puritan days, and we have outlived them, we have learned to laugh at them, we do nowadays pretty much as we like'. This is the sort of language which is often heard in the world. Now what I say to you about it shall be simple com- mon sense. I agree to some extent with the people who so speak. It is a mistake, I think, to multiply the number of sins. There are so many things which are wrong in the world, and it is so hard for most of us to keep from doing them, that I should say we make a mistake if we voluntarily add to the number of things which we may not do. Thus to say that it is wrong to dance or play cards — -wrong in itself, I mean, for I know only too well that these are often the occupations of frivolous persons — this is a need- less aggravation of human duty. Only forgive my saying that, if one must make a mistake, then it is better to err on the side of abstaining from good than on the side of running heedlessly into wrong. It is better to have a weak conscience than a wicked one ; it is better to count the things which are right to be wrong, than to count the things which are wrong to be right. Take, for instance, the rule of Sunday. 94 Vv. 18-23. NUMBERS XXVII., XXXII Ver. 23. II. Again, let me impress upon you that your conscience is plastic ; you are always forming it, al- ways making it better or woree. If you listen to it when it speaks, it speaks more plainly ; if you neglect it, it will simply cease to speak. III. Lastly, follow your conscience, and it shall lead you to God. Believe me, the only way to get more spiritual light is to live according to the light you have. It may be only a ray that breaks atliwart the darkness ; make the most of it, and some day you shall have more. There may be hereafter only one duty which is clear to you, only one friend or kinsman whom you can help, only one boy whom you can keep from evil, only one piece of work which you alone can do. Well, do that Try to accomplish that one object. Try to save just that one human soul. Gradually, it may be after many a day, the clouds will break. You will know more of God's will. He will .seem nearer to you. His voice will sound more clearly in your soul. You shall enter into that Divine peace which the world may neither give nor take away. — J. G. C. Welldon, Sermons Preached to Harrow Boys, 1885-6, p. 185. JOSHUA, THE LEADER OF GOD'S PEOPLE: AND THE HOLY NAME JESUS Numbers xxvii. 18-23 ; Luke ii. 21. This man Joshua is a type of One Who came long after him. See how this is. I. First let us remember his name was not always Joshua, but Oshea. Now the name ' Oshea ' means ' Salvation '. When he was chosen to be one of the twelve spies, the name of God, that is, the name Jah, was added to his name, and instead of Oshea it be- came Jehoshua, or, as we generally write it, Joshua. This name means, then, as you can see, God the Saviour. It was given to him that all might leam that by him God would save the people from the wilderness, and bring them into the beautiful land. Now, you can see the type, and why we have this lesson to-day. Joshua, born of a poor mother in slavery in Egypt, has the same name as the little Child Who was born at Bethlehem on Christmas Day. You remember what the Angel said, ' Thou shalt call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins '. ' Jesus ' means ' God the Savioui" '. To-day, the Feast of the Circumcision, Jesus received His name. He was only eight days old, but His Blessed Mother did not keep Him with- out His name. Some people keep their children three months, or six months, or even longer, before they bring them to be baptised and to have a Chris- tian name, although the Church says they are to be baptised not later than the second Sunday after their bii'th. But Mary obeyed God, and to-day, the eighth day from His birth, Jesus Chiist was circumcised, and received the Name of God, sent Him by His Angel. Remember, then, that Joshua bears the same name as Jesus, our Saviour, our King. II. And now what did Joshua do? He went before the people; he was their leader until they came safely into the fair land which God had pro- mised to give. There is a fair land before us, more fair and beautiful than any the eye of man has yet seen. Its name is heaven, and the way into it is through paradise. Jesus leads His children there. He went to paradise, and then He rose again, and afterwards ascended into heaven. There He waits now for us ; to that fair land He leads His children who love Him. Canaan, to which Joshua led the Jews, was beauti- ful, but what was its beauty compared to the land Jesus will give us. His glorious heaven ? III. Think of another way in which Joshua is like our Lord Jesus. He could not take the people into Canaan until he had fought and overcome all their enemies. How many battles he fought we do not know, but they were very terrible. But God helped him. And Jesus all His life through was fighting against Satan and his evil spirits. We do not know, we cannot tell, how bitter that fight was, but we know a little how Jesus suffered in the greatest fight of all when He died on the cross, going to fight in the world we cannot now see. And He fights for and with His children now. We are signed with His cross that we may fight manfully under His banner. We have courage to fight ; we know we can win the victory, for our Joshua — Jesus our Saviour — has fought first, and now fights with us. IV. One other thing you can think of When all the fights were over and they were safe in their own land, Joshua divided the land to the people. He it was who said as God taught him what each was to have ; their land, their streams, their land for corn and their land for vineyards — all was as he said. Think how Jesus gathers His children in heaven, and gives each one his place in the kingdom prepared for him. No one will be forgotten, no one left with- out a place, no one need be jealous of another. Jesus is there ; Jesus loves all ; Jesus gives to each one the place that is best for him, the work that will make him happiest, the place in heaven that will give him the greatest possible joy in the presence of God. SIN FINDING OUT THE SINNER Numbers xxxii. 23. I HAVE often spoken to you about the goodness of God. And I have told you of things fair and pleasant by which that goodness is made known. But there is one proof of His goodness I have never named to you. It is the fact that, in making the world. He made it impossible for evil to hide. Sooner or later the evildoer is sure to be found out. Sin is so bad, so hurtful, so cruel a thing that God's love for us will not let it remain unpunished. And, because it might escape discovery by man, He has caused that it shall be its own detector and punisher. Lies, thefts, murders, prides, gi-eeds, envies — they turn 95 Ver. 28. NUMBERS XXXIl Ver. 23. round, one way or another, and smite the doers of them. The white cheek, the i^ed blush, and the downcast eye, which are seen in the faces of people discovered in an evil way, are just sin's ways of be- ginning to find out the sinner. It was Moses who first said, ' Be sure your sin will find you out '. He was speaking to thousands of people at the time. If thousands of people should agree together to sin, theii- sin will find them out. But the words are as true of one as of many. In God's world evil cannot hide. In God's world evil- doers are certain to suffer for the evil they have done. This is the lesson I want to give you to-day. A little more than fifty years since, a ship sailed out of Ai'changel in the White Sea on a long voyage into the Indian and Chinese seas. When the ship was far on in the voyage a trouble rose up between the sailors and the captain. And one night the sailors joined together and killed the captain. The two mates stood by the captain and fought against the sailors. They also were killed. Then the sailors took the ship into their own hands. But when this dreadful work was past and there was a new captain and new mates, they began to be afraid of each other. And it was remembered that two of their number had cried out, ' Don't kill the captain '. One night these also were killed and thrown overboard. And still they were afraid. There is no peace to evildoers. In the cook's galley there was a young lad who had taken no part in the murders, but he was seen to tremble when the bodies of the dead sailors were cast overboard. Perhaps he might tell when they got to land. They were passing a desert island, far away from the usual coui-se of ships, and they made pretence to go ashore for water, taking the young assistant cook with them. And there, while he was sent into a valley out of view to search for water, they left him, and sailed away. They had just this little touch of pity, or it might be in their hurry to get away — they left a gun and powder-bag on the shore. Two years passed. And out of the usual path though it was, another ship happened to pass this very island, and sent ashore to seek water. And there, under the shelter of some rocks, the searchers came upon the bones of the sailor lad, and his gun lying by his side. The poor lad had seen that it was death for him. And with a nail or a sharp stone he wrote on the stock of the gun the whole story of the mutiny and the murders, and the names of the ringleaders and of the murdered men. The bones were buried in the lonely island ; the gun was carried to Archangel. And in a few months the murderers were tried and judged to death. In this strange way their sin found them out. But this discovery might never have been made ; the murderei-s might have escaped punishment : yet their sin would none the less have found them out. Their sin would have found them out by its effect on their own souls. This will be made plain to you by the story I am about to tell. Towards the middle of the last century, two sons of a Highland gentleman had a quarrel. It happened, while the rage of anger was still in their hearts, that the elder of them had to leave home for a distant town. And, his way passing through a lonely moor, he met his brother returning from a walk. The rage sprang up from their hearts into bitter words, and then into blows. And in the struggle the younger brother was struck down by a blow on the head. He did not spring up again ; he did not attempt to rise ; he was never more to rise : he was dead. In a moment hoiTor took hold of the elder brother. His sin had found him out. He was a murderer. He threw himself down beside the body of his brother. He called him by name. He cried to him for pardon. But no ear was open to hear his cry. Lite was for ever gone. Then a new horror seized him. He himself would have to die for this crime. And shame and heart-break would fall on his father's home. He looked around. Not a single creature was in view. He lifted the dead body in his arms ; he carried it to a kind of bottomless pit in the moor, and threw it in. He heard the awful thud of it far down. And then he flung in furze and bracken and stones to cover. After that he continued his journey. The murder was never discovered. But from himself it refused to hide. The memory of it was with him every day thereafter. It was his first thought in the morning, his last at night. It was with him in his waking thoughts ; it was with him in his dreams. Like a book, his memory laid bare its pages, and he saw over again the lonely moor, the battle between the brothers, the lifeless body, the white face, and the black pit into which the dead was thrown. He could not bear to live in the Highland home. Everything there seemed to call out to him for his dead brother. He travelled. He went into business. All was in vain. His memory threw up the terrible story from within, and made pictures of it in his soul. And day and night he had no rest from the memory of his sin. One Sunday evening he was staying in a village on the coast of Fife, and a minister very fsimous in Scotland at that time — the Rev. Ebenezer Erskine — was to preach in the church. Mr. Erskine's text was the sixth commandment, 'Thou shalt not kill'. When the sermon was over and Mr. Erskine resting in his lodgings, this poor man called on him and told him all his sad story. Twenty years had passed, and never till now had he breathed a word of it. But now he could no longer be silent. The sermon had searched him through and tluough. The thing he wanted to know was whether he should tell his crime and suffer the punishment of it. Mr. Erekine was very kind but very searching in his questions. Was it known that his brother was killed ? Was any innocent person suspected ? Was any one kept out of earthly goods which, if the brother had lived, would have come to him ? When he got satisfactory answei-s to all these questions, he said : ' No good 96 Ver. 23. NUMBERS XXXII Ver. 23. public end would be served now by giving yourself up ; you would not yourself find peace in that way. Nobody is wronged by your silence. Only God can help you. Tell liim the whole story. Throw your- self with all your heart and soul on His mercy and forgiveness ; and in what remains of your life walk huniblv with God, and do justly and mercifully to your fellow-men.' I do not know the rest of this man's story. If he took Mr. Erskine's advice, his sin would no doubt be forgiven by God. He would know, and he would live in the comfort of knowing, that, though the memory of the past coukl not be blotted out, he would not be shut out of heaven by his sin. Now I know well, I have felt all through in speak- ing to you, that this is a terrible truth I have been setting before vou. But in bringing my words to an end I will say this very earnestly to you : You are young, and not yet as strong as you will be. And sin is very deceiving. And some day it might happen — it has happened to others as young as you — that sin, in some form or other, might overtake you and deceive you, and vou might yield to it. If unhappily this should befall you, remember that the great object should be, not to escape the punishment, but to flee from the sin. But if either you be discovered in it, or should yourself wake up to the thought, when as yet no one else knows of it, that God knows, and that your own memory has taken note of it and is keeping record of it to you — if this should happen — then, with your whole heart and strength, turn I'ound and tell Him of the sin that has hurt you, and be sorry for it, and do not repeat, or Wish to repeat it, and you will be forgiven. It is to bring us to seek this forgiveness that He has made it a law in the world that our sins shall find us out. Sin found out and forgiven, that is the meaning of the beauti- ful words, ' Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool '. — Alexander Macleod, The Child Jesus, p. 196. THE WARNING AGAINST SIN ' Be sure your sin will find you out' — Numbers xxxii. 23. One thing which has much to do with leading people to commit sin is the thought that they can do it in secret, and not be found out. Many a boy is tempted to play truant, instead of going to school, because he thinks that his father and mother will never know anything about it. Many a robber breaks into a house at night, and steals what he wants, because he thinks that no one sees him, and so his sin will never be found out. But here in our text we have a warning against sin because it is sure to be found out. And there are three things for us to remember, which help to make it sure, and should lead us to mind this warning. I. And the First Thing which must make it Sure that Sin will be Found Out is — 'The Presence of God '. — This is something from which we can never get away. David was feeling this when he wrote the 139th Psalm. Here he asks: 'Whither shall I go from Thy Spirit? or whither shall I flee from Thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, Thou art there ; if I make my bed in hell, behold, Thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea ; even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me.' Solomon says, ' The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good ' (Prov. XV. 3). If we could only remember these four words — ' Thou God seest me '—it would be a great help to us in minding the warning we are now considering, and in keeping us from committing sin. The thing that tempts us to commit sin more than anything else is forgetting that God is looking at Us all the time. The Second Thing which makes it Sure that Sin will be Found Out is — 'The Power of God'. — Men often try to do things, but are obliged to give up, because they have not the power which is necessary for doing them. You know for how many years the different nations of the world — England, our own country — Germany, and Russia have been trying to get up to the North Pole ; but they have never suc- ceeded in doing it. All their efforts have been in vain. They have not the power to get there. But it is very different with God. He has all power in heaven and on earth. Nothing is impossible for Him to do. He has the hearts of all men in His hands, and He can turn them as the rivers of water are turned. He can do according to His own will, in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of earth. And so, when He says to us, 'Be sure your sin will find you out,' we know very well that He has power enough to bring about this result. The angels of heaven serve Him. And suns, and moons, and stars, and seasons, and day and night, and all things serve Him. His power controls them all. He has determined that every sin conmiitted by any of His creatures shall be found out. And nothing is more sure or certain than that this will be done in every case. Now let us look at some illustrations of the different ways in which God's power works to find out the sins of His creatures. Our first story may be called — 'The Sinner Found Out'. 'I was walking along the Strand in London one day,' said a gentleman to a friend, ' when I saw a policeman go up to a young man, and lay his hand upon his shoulder, saying as he did so, " I want you ''. The young man turned very white,' said the gentle- man. ' There was a startled, frightened look in his eyes, but he made no resistance, and as he walked off with the officer, I heard him say, " I thought it would come to this ; it's just what I expected ".' On making further inquiries about him, this gentle- man found out that the short, sad story of that young man was this : He was the son of respectable parents. After serving his apprenticeship with a carpenter in the village where he lived, he came to London seeking for work. He found employment in 97 Ver. 23. NUMBERS XXXII V^er. 23. a large shop, where he received good wages, and for a while he was getting on nicely. Unhappily he made the acquaintance of some bad companions. They taught him to drink and to gamble, and to spend his money very foolishly. Before long he found himself heavily in debt. One day, the counting-house clerk being absent, this young man was sent to the bank to get a cheque cashed for a large amount of money. Then the thought came into his mind, ' If I keep this money I can soon get out of debt '. And then, instead of going back to the shop, he kept the money, and went off with it. He was afraid to go home, or show himself among his friends. He went to another part of London, and prowled about the little streets and alleys, feeling very wretched and miserable, and afraid of being seen by anyone that knew him. Several policemen were put upon his track, and had his appearance described to them, and this was one of them who found him. He was tried for stealing, found guilty, and sent to prison. It was the power of God which caused this young man to be found out in his sin, and that power is able to find out every sin. That young man's sin was found out for its punishment. But sometimes God's power leads to the finding out of sin for its pardon. I have one other story under this part of our sub- ject. We may call it — 'A Secret Murder Found Out'. A man who worked on a farm in the State of Con- necticut murdered the owner of the farm one night, in the stable near the farmer's dwelling. Then he robbed the farmer's house of all the money and the valuable things to be found in it. After this he left that part of the country and went abroad. He re- mained away for twenty years. A large reward was offered for the apprehension of the murderer, and a particular description of his person was published in the newspapers to aid in finding him. But of course, as he had gone immediately out of the country, he could not be found. But now I wish you to notice, in what I am going to say, how singularly the Providence and power of God worked together to have this man's sin found out at last. On coming to his old neighbourhood after twenty years' absence, he supposed, of course, that the murder, and all about it, would be forgotten ; and so it was. But God had not forgotten it ; and see how strangely He caused it to be found out. On arriving in his old neighbourhood the man took a walk, so that he could look around and see what changes had taken place. As he was walking it began to rain heavily. He sought shelter from the rain by going into a tavern, which stood near the old farm on ■which he used to work. The tavern had changed hands, and all the persons about it were strangers to him. As he stood by the open fire drying his wet clothes, another man, who had also been out in the rain, stood by him drying his clothes too. They had a few words of converea- tion together. Then this other man went to the window, and looked out to see if it was likely to con- tinue raining much longer, as he wished to go on his way. Now it happened that one of the panes of glass in that window had been broken. To keep out the cold air a piece of an old newspaper had been pasted over it. This newspaper was twenty years old. As the man stood there and looked at that paper, he read an account of a murder which had been committed in that neighbourhood. A large reward was offered to the person who should find the murderer. Then a description was given of the per- sonal appearance of the murderer, and special mention was made of a peculiar mark which he had on his face. This startled the man very much. He read the article over again, very carefully. Then he said to himself ' That man standing by the fire yonder must be this murderer '. Then he walked quietly back to the fire and looked at the man again. He became satisfied that he was right. Then he asked the keeper of the tavern to go with him into another room. As soon as they were alone he told him of his suspicions. A constable was sent for. The man was arrested and taken to prison. In due time he was tried, found guilty, and hung. How wonderfully God's power operated to find out that murderer's sin, and to bring on him the punish- ment which he deserved ! And here we see that the second thing which makes it sure that sin will be found out is — the power of God. III. And the Third Thing which makes it Sure that Sin will be Found Out ' is — The Purpose of God '. — What this purpose is we are plainly told by Solomon when he says that, ' God will bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil ' (Eccles. xii. 14). This purpose makes it absolutely sure that every sin which is committed will certainly be found out, sooner or later. Men's purposes do not amount to much, because they are not always able to carry them out. But it is very different with God. He says Himself, ' My purpose shall stand, and I will do all my pleasure '. Men's opposition to God's purposes amounts to nothing. It was the purpose of God that the children of Israel should be delivered from their house of bondage in Egypt, and go to live- in the good land which He had promised them. Pharaoh refused to let them go, and used all the power of his kingdom to keep them still in bondage. But by the simple waving of the rod of Moses, all Pharaoh's efforts were made useless, and God's purpose was cai-ried out. So it always has been, and so it always will be. Our last story may be called — ' Murderers Found Out by the Birds '. The incident of which I am now about to speak occurred in Germany in the year 1804, and in con- nection with a town called Lennep. In this town was the only post office for a district of country lying around it, which embraced a number of miles. There was a man who acted as postman for this 98 Ver. 23. NUMBERS XXXII Ver. 23. district, whose name was Heiiiiich Lutz. He used to go out from Leiiiiep three times a week, and carry the mail to all the villages and settlements round about the town for several miles in different directions. He was a good and faithful man. He had been engaged in this work, for a number of years, and was very much respected and loved by all who knew him. The road over which he had to travel for some dis- tance lay through a deep forest, where sometimes robberies, and even murders, had been committed. One day, in the fall of the year spoken of above, Heinrich set out as usual to go through his district, delivering the mail which he took with him, and bringing back the letters and papers which were given him to take to the post office. He generally left after an early breakfast, and returned by the close of the afternoon. In the course of his journey on the day of which we are speaking, as he was passing by the deep forest, two robbers rushed out upon him. They knocked him down, and began to beat him with their heavy clubs. While they were doing this, he said to his murderers: 'Don't think you will escape. Your sin will find you out. God can make the very birds of the air tell of you,' — pointing, as he said this, to a flock of wild birds that were then flying over them. The friends of Heinrich looked for his return in Lennep that evening, but he did not come. By the next morning the sad tidings of his murder were received, and his dead body was brought home. There was a great excitement in the town all that day. Towards the close of the afternoon two strangers came to the inn in the town, and asked for lodging for the night and for some supper. The wife of the keeper of the inn waited on the strangers. Among other things she placed a couple of roisted wild birds on the table for them to eat. While one of the men was cutting up the birds, she heard him say to his companion, ' These birds won't tell about it, anyhow '. This excited her surprise. As she looked carefully at the other man, she noticed some spots of blood on his blue jacket. This alarmed her. She went at once to her husband and told him what she had seen and heard. A constable was sent for. The men were taken up, and put in prison. On being- examined the contents of the mail bag were found about their persons. Then they confessed their crime, and told what Heimich had said about the birds before his death. They were tried, condemned, and hung. Their sin was found out by means of the little birds. But sometimes sins are not found out in this life. What then ? Will the warning of our text fail in their case ? No ; but they will go on to the day of judgment, and then — every sin will be found out. Every sin that is committed is written down in the book of God's remembrance. If we repent of our sins, the blood of Jesus will blot them all out. But if we do not repent, they will remain written there. At the day of j udgment that book will be brought forth, and then we may be sui'e that our sins will find us out. — ^Richard Newton, Bible Warnings : Addresses to Children, p. 138. 99 DEUTERONOMY THE BEE ' And the Amorites, which dwelt in that mountain, came out against you, and chased you, as bees do.' — Deuteronomy I. 44. IsEAKL h.id determined at all hazards to storm the strongholds of the Amorites. But as those who dis- obey iGrod can never stand before their enemies, the Israelites were no match for those hardy mountaineers of Seir. Like infuriated bees rushing out from their nest, the Amorite hordes swept out from their moun- tain fastnesses, and utterly overwhelmed the hosts of Israel. They 'chased you, as bees do, and destroyed you in Seir, even unto Hormah '. This is the only sense in which the bee is referred to in Holy Scripture. The ant may be introduced as an emblem of industry and instinct ; but the bee is always regarded as one of the scourges of mankind. It recalls an incident in the African travels of Muiigo Park. 'Some of his people having met with a populous hive, imprudently attempted to plunder it of its honey. The swarm rushed out in fury and attacked the company so vigorously that man and beast fled in all directions. The horees were never re- covered and several of the asses were so severely stung that they died the next day.' The bee was clearly a savage and dangerous annoyance. They ' chased you, as bees do '. But turning to the bee itself, let us note the three principal materials it uses in its hive. I. Wax. — Nothing can be done in the furnishing of the hive until a sufficient quantity of wax has been provided. And this, like the gossamer threads of the spider, is drawn from the insect's own body. The process of secretion, as it is called, may last for some twenty-four hours ; and when it is completed the wax projects from between the segments of its body in the form of thin plates. The material is then taken up into the mouth and undergoes a process of masti- cation, until at last it issues from the mandibles in the form of a small white ribbon. This is the material with which they build up their hexagonal or six-sided cells ; and marvellous is the skill they show in the ingenious arrangement. Like Plato, they might fitly inscribe over their portal, ' Let no one ignorant of geometry enter here,' for the bee is entitled to a fii-st place in the ranks of the geometricians. It is even asserted on the authority of the Rev. J. G. Wood that the angles of the bee- cell are so mathematically correct that by their measurement an error in a book of logarithms was detected; and Mr. Davwin himself admits that 'the comb of the hive-bee is absolutely perfect in econo- mising labour and wax '. The form of the cell has thi-ee distinct advantages. It combines the greatest strength, the lai-gest storage, and the least expenditure of material and labour; and ' the little busy bee,' as if acquainted with these strict mathematical principles, has followed them so accurately that it easily steps into the first rank as a born mathematician. But how is this fact to be accounted for? What is the explanation of these inimitable architectural powei's ? ' Without thought or even the organ of thought, the bee can produce work which embodies thought.' But to whom does this thought belong ? Can there be thought without a thinker? Can there be the marks of intelligence without an original and creative mind ? No ! at the building up of a bee-cell, just as at the framing of a world, the thoughtful soul is face to face with Him whose mind is stamped on every part of creation — with Him who is the great and faithful Creator, whose tender mercies are over all His works. II. Honey. — After the construction of the cells comes the gathering of the honey. Honey, as every boy knows, is the thick, sweet fluid which bees gather from the cups of flowers. Or in the language of myth and fable, it is the veritable nectar of the gods. The mouth of the bee is framed for the purpose. It is so constructed that it forms a sort of proboscis or tongue by means of which the insects suck up the nectaiine juice. It serves both as a mouth and a pump through which the liquid passes into the first stomach, and thus is cari'ied to the hive. The abundance of honey is frequently mentioned in Holy Scripture. Palestine itself is described as ' a land that tloweth with milk and honey '. And we remember that on one occasion Jonathan, the Son of Saul, was faint and weary, and when he saw honey dri]iping on the ground from the abundance and weight of the comb, he took it up on the end of his staff, and ate sufficient to restore his strength (1 Sam. xrv. 27). John the Baptist also was evidently in no danger of starving from lack of food, when the wild bees afforded him a plentiful sufipiy of the very material which was needed to correct the deficiencies of the dried locusts which he used instead of bread. His food was locusts and wild honey. III. Pollen. — Honey is not the only substance that bees carry homo to the hive. They als(j collect in considerable quantities the fecundating dust or pollen of flowers. If the long tongue is specially ad- apted for sucking up the one, the hind legs, supplied with a brush of hair, are equally fitted for collecting and conveying the other. When the bee visits the flower in question it dives deep down among the dust- 100 Ver. 14. DEUTERONOMY Vll Ver. 14. like powder, and conies out again, all covered from head to foot, like a miller well dusted with his meal. But applying the bi'ush of hair which it carries for the purpose, it speedily biushes the pollen all down in the form of a tiny ball, r\ntl carries it home on its hind legs to be used in the economy of the hive. But what is it for? To make bee-bread for the young bees. The hexagonal cells are not all used for the storage of honey. A very large proportion of the comb is set apart for the hatching of the young ones. And these infant bees are voracious eatei's. Like other little children, they have to be carefully nureed and attended to, and the sagacious nureos have quite enough to do in providing them with the right kind of food. Ordinary honey is too strong for their infantile digestion, and therefore the honey is mixed with the pollen to render it a fit nourishment for these fastidious babies. This is the only object the bees have in collecting the pollen ; but it is not the only end they serve in the plan of the great Creator. Unknown to them- selves they are doing a great work in the propagating of flowers. The fertilising dust of one flower must be conveyed to the corresponding organs of another ; and the bee, like a village postman, is brought in to convey the necessary love-tokens. Apart from this service rendered by the bee, the wild flowers that deck the fields and highways would soon be conspicuous by their absence. We cannot, then, go back to the point from which we started, and say that the bee can only be regarded as a savage and dangerous annoyance. It fills a very important place in the economy of nature. As the maker of wax it is the prince of mathematicians ; as the gatherer of honey it is the bringer of many choice blessings ; and as the collector and distributor of pollen it is at once a sagacious nurse, and one who dispenses a harvest, 'sowing the To-be'. Well may we sit at its hive and learn wisdom. — John Adams, Kingless Folk, p. 63. THE BLESSEDNESS OF BEING A CHRISTIAN ' Thou shalt be blessed above all people.' — Deuteronomy VII. 14. I WISH now to speak of four things in which it is true of real Christians that they are ' blessed above all people '. In the first place, they are so in their Names. If we look into the Bible we shall find a wonderful difference between the names or titles of those who are not Christians and of those who are. Where God speaks of those who are not Christians, He calls them ' fools,' ' wicked ones,' ' children of wrath,' ' cursed children,' 'enemies of God,' 'a perverse and crooked generation,' ' .serpents, a generation of vipers '. What a dreadful thing it is to think of the great and good Lord of heaven calling any pei-son by such names as these ! And then, after looking at these, how pleasant it is to turn and look at the names which God gives in the Bible to His own people — to all who love and serve Jesus ! He calls them His 'Ix-loved,' His 'dear children,' ' the excellent of the earth,' His ' chosen ones in whom His soul delighteth,' His 'lambs,' His 'trea- sure,' His 'jewels,' ' the sonsand daughters of the Lord Almighty'. Jesus calls His people by all these sweet names now. But hereafter. He says, they shall be called by 'a name better than of sons and daughter ; even by a new name which the mouth of the Lord shall name '. If I am really a Christian, I cannot tell what the name is by which I shall be called in heaven. But I know it will be a neiu name. It will be a beautiful name, fit for that glorious place, and the holy, happy company that will be there. And when we think of the precious names by which Jesus calls His people now, and the still more precious names by which He will call them hereafter, we may well say of Christians that they are ' blessed above all people '. In their names they are thus blessed. But secondly, they are ' blessed above all people ' in their Dress. I don't mean the dress of their bodies, but the dress of their souls. Christian people wear the same kind of dress for their bodies that others do, but they wear very different kind of dress for their souls. We don't know what the .soul is. We only know that it is that strange thing in us which thinks, and loves, and which will live forever. When our body dies, we know that the soul leaves the body and goes out from it. We can't see it when it goe.s. We don't know how the soul looks, or what the form or shape of the soul is. Perhaps it looks just like the body. Perhaps it has the same form and appearance as the body, only it is not heavy or solid like the body. If this is so, then, if we could see the soul of some dear friend who has died and gone to heaven, we should know it in a moment, just as easily as we should know the body of that friend. And there is a parti- cular kind of dress for the soul, just as there is for the body. We read in the Bible that St. John saw the souls of some of the people of Chiist who had died. They were in heaven when he saw them, stand- ing before the throne of God. And when he saw those, souls, they were all clothed. Yes, and their clothing was all alike. They were clothed in gar- ments that had been washed and made white for them by Jesus their Saviour. The Bible tells us of a robe or garment or dress that Jesus puts on the souls of His people when they become Christians, that is, when their hearts ai-e changed, when the}' repent of their sins and believe in Him. This is spoken of as a white dress or robe. It is like that which Jesus Himself wore when He was on the Mount of Ti-ans- figuration. Three of His disciples were with Him then. They saw Him while He was transfigured, and they have told us how He looked. His face was shining like the sun, and His garments were white as snow, so as nobody on earth could whiten them. What a blessed thing it is to have this dress on ! There are only two kinds of dresses for the souls of people spoken of in the Bible. One of these is this beautiful white dress which Jesus gives to His people. The other is one which everybody who is not a Chris- 101 Ver. 14. DEUTERONOMY VII Ver. 11. tian must wear. It is spoken of in the Bible as made of 'filthy rags'. It is stained and polluted, and dreadful to look at. If we are Christians, if we really love Jesus, we shall wear the white garment which He gives to His people. If we are not Christians, this garment of ' filthy rags ' is the only one our souls will ever have to wear. When we die, and our souls go into the presence of God, they will have nothing upon them but those ' filthy rags '. Oh, how much ashamed we shall feel ! How totally unfit we shall be to go among the white-robed company in heaven ! And yet we shall never be able to get rid of those rags there. We shall never be able to get any other dress for our souls to wear. But if we are Christians, if we really love and serve Jesus, then our souls will wear the same robe that Jesus wears Himself. This is the most beautiful dress that ever was. Jesus made it Himself for His people to wear. Nobody else will wear it but them. It will be more beautiful than the dress of the angels. The Bible says it will be ' of wrought gold, all glorious within'. This dress is so beautiful that even God loves to look at it. It will never grow old. It will never wear out. It will never get soiled or torn. It will be always new and beautiful. How true it is that real Christians are ' blessed above all people ' ! They ai'e so in their Dress. Thirdly, they are so in their Relations. I was reading lately of a very good answer made by a little boy in England, who afterwards became a very distinguished minister of the gospel. One of his schoolmates was boasting one day about the num- ber of rich and noble relations that he had. Then he asked the future minister ' if there were anj' lords in his family '. ' Yes,' said the little fellow, ' I know there is one at least, for I have often heard my mother say that the Lord Jesus Christ is our elder brother.' And when we are in trouble or distress, what a real comfort it is to have a relation who is able and willing to help us ! Some years ago a poor Austrian officer, who was very sick, arrived at a town in Germany which was celebrated for its baths ; and crowds of sick people were constantly coming there with the hope of being cured of their various diseases. The officer seemed very feeble, and it was not likely that he would live very long. He applied for lodging at several of the hotels, but they would not take him in, because they were afraid he might die in the house. Presently he came to the last hotel where he could hope to get a room, but he was told again that there was none vacant. The poor soldier was greatly distressed. He knew not what to do. But just then a gentleman who was living in the hotel, and who had heard the answer given by the landlord, stepped forward and said : — ' This officer is a relation of mine, and I will shai-e my room with him. He may have my bed, and I can sleep on the sofa.' The landlord could not make any objection to this, and the poor sick soldier was carried to the room of the gentleman who had claimed him as a relation. When he had rested a few moments and recovered his strength a little, his first question was : — ' May I ask your name, my kind friend ? How are you related to me ? On which side ? — through my father or my mother ? ' ' I am related to you,' said the gentleman, ' through our Lord Jesus Christ, who has taught me that every suffering man is my brother, and that I should do to him as I would like to have him do to me '. How kind and pleasant that was ! This is just the way in wliich Jesus would have us all act. And this is just the way in which He is acting all the time to His people who are His poor relations. He tells us all to ' call on Him in the day of trouble, and He will hear us '. He is called in the Bible the ' brother born for adversity,' ' the friend that sticketh closer than a brother ! ' And the best thing about the Christian's relations is, that he can never lose them. The Bible tells us that ' nothing can separate us from the love of Christ '. Jesus says to His relations that He ' will never leave them, nor forsake them '. The dearest relations that we have in this world are sure to be sepai'ated from us by death. And sometimes this separation comes very suddenly and unexpectedly. The fourth thing in which they are blessed above all people is in their Riches. It is said of Jesus our Saviour that ' though He was rich ' before He came into this world, ' yet for our sakes He became poor, that we,' His people, ' through His poverty might be rich '. Jesus came into this world on purpose to make His people rich. He says in one place in the New Testament that He will give His people ' gold, fine gold, gold tried in the fire, that they may be rich '. But it is not the gold and silver of this world that Jesus promises to give His people. It is the gold and silver of heaven that Jesus makes His people rich with. This heavenly gold and silver means the grace and blessing of God. Those who have this kind of riches are blessed above all people for two reasons : one is, their riches can always make them happy ; the other is, they will last for ever. The people of Christ are blessed above all people in having riches that can always make them happy. The riches that peojile get in this world cannot make them happy. When Stephen Girard was alive, he was the richest man in the city of New York. But you may judge how happy he was from what he wrote to a friend one day ; — ' As for myself,' said he, ' I live like a slave. I am constantly occupied through the day, and often pass the whole night without being able to sleep. I am worn out with the care of my property. If I can only keep busy all day, and sleep all night, this is my highest happiness.' Certainly that was a very poor kind of happiness. The riches which Jesus gives to His people are laid up for them in heaven. There they are perfectly 102 Ver. 22. DEUTERONOMY VII., XXII Vv. 6, 7. safe, there they will last for ever. — Richard Newton, Bible Blessings, p. 61. PEU ET PEU ' By little and little.' — Deuteronomy vii. 22. This was the way the Israelites were to win their battles and conquer Canaan— it was to be by little and little. And it is the way you must win your battles too. We have all to fight battles— every one of us — and the biggest of all is with our own hearts. There are so many sins there that we must subdue — there is selfishness — there is temper — there is dis- obedience, and there is laziness and a great many sins besides. We must get the better of these if we would not have them get the better of us : we must subdue the heart for Jesus' sake if we would be Christ's boys and Christ's girls. And the best way to do it is by little and little. Sometimes you have tried to be good, ail good — and all good at once — but you have not succeeded. No — for a boy who has been sick and got weak might as well try to become strong — all strong — -and strong all at once. The best way for him is to get strong by little and little — first getting a little stronger to walk, then a little stronger to play, and then a little stronger to work — then a little stronger to stand cold winds and biting frosts. ' One thing at a time, and that done well, is a very good rule, as many can tell.' And it is a good rule for fighting against sins. Begin with one at a time. Suppose you begin with disobedience : it vexes father and mother very much, does it not? to have to tell you to do a thing two or three times before you do it. Fight that sin first ; determine to get the habit of doing what you are told to do, and doing it at once. It will not be very long before you will get the better of that sin, for the habit of obedience will gi-ow. Then there is the sin of temper: there is the frown that conies on your face too (juickly ; determine to smooth that away ; and there is the hasty unpleasant word you are so ready to speak ; determine to pray that away, and to be kind, and think kindly, and be gentle. And so with many sins besides : fight them down, one by one, and by little and little you will conquer them. How many minutes do you think there are in a year? 525,G00 ; more than half a million ! How is a little weak watch going to tick tluough so many minutes ? Could it do it all at once ? No indeed. How does it manage then ? By taking one at a time, and so it gets through them all. Uo you the sa.Tne with the sins that beset you. Begin to conquer one — and battle with it till you have conquered it — and the next one will be conquered more easily by little and little. But you must have patience and hope, and so you must be often with Jesus. However busy you are, you must take time for food for the body, or else you will not be able to do the things you are so busy about. It is the same with the soul — however busy you are, take time to find food for that, and it is Jesus alone who can give it. So from this day deter- mine every day there are two things you will do ; fii-st. Speak to Jesus — that is prayer — pray to Him; and next. Let Jesus speak to you^ — read a little bit, if it is only a verse or two out of the Bible, for that is Christ's Word, and He speaks to us through it. Do that, and you will get strength to fight against sin, and the Lord will help you to drive out the ugly things that are in the heart. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Pew, p. 192. HOW TO TAKE A BIRD'S NEST ' If a bird's nest chance to be before thee in the way, in any tree or on the ground, with young ones or eggs, and the dam sitting upon the young or upon the eggs, thou shalt not take the dam with the young ; thou shalt in any wise let the dam go, but the young thou mayest take unto thy- self : that it may be well with thee, and that thou mayest prolong thy days.' — Deuteronomy xxii. 6, 7. ' This,' said the Rabbis, ' is the least among the commandments of Moses.' But I am not sure about that. True, the commandment is only about a bird's nest ; and nests are not as big as churches. Never- theless, a commandment about a very little thing may be a very large commandment. And at least one part of this commandment is very large ; viz. the reward attached to it. The precept runs into a pro- mise. The precept is only about a bird's nest ; but the promise is that he who obeys it shall have many days and happy days. ' If a bird's nest be before thee, thou shalt not take the mother-bird with the young or the eggs, that it may be well with thee, and that thou mayest prolong thy days.' Now think of that ! If you take your bird's nest in the right way, you shall have a long life and a prosperous one ! Why, this is more than is promised to those who honour their father and mother ! Their days are to be long in the land ; but their promise says nothing about prosperity. Whereas those who take heed to their ways when they are looking for birds' nests are pro- mised, not long life only, but that it shall be well with them as long as they live. The two gi'eatest blessings the Jews knew, long life and prosperity, are to be granted to those who keep this commandment. And that can hai'dly be ' the least of the command- ments,' which carries so large a blessing with it. It ought to be a great commandment, if we are to get so much for keeping it. And I think I can show you that it has great meanings in it ; that it is quite worth our while to try to understand and to obey it. There are at least three such meanings in it. (1) It set a limit to the natural greed of men. (2) It brought the law of God into the little things of life. And (3) it taught the sacredness of love. I.— It Set a Limit to the Natural Greed of Men. — What would be the first impulse of a Jew who found the nest of a quail, or a partridge, with the mother- bird sitting on the young ones or the eggs ? Of course, his first impulse would be to take all he could get, 103 Vv. 6, 7. DEUTERONOMY XXII Vv. 6, 7. the old bird as well as the eggs or the young. But to do that might be very poor thrift, and very poor morality. P^or in destroying the parent-bird with the young, the man might be helping to destroy a whole breed of valuable birds. He would get a dinner for to-day, but he would be lessening his chance of find- ing one to-morrow. He would be helping hiviself, but he might also be injuring Jds neighbour. All the game birds would soon die out of England if they were not preserved, or if no close time were allowed them. And even that would not be so great a cal- amity to us as it would have been to the Jews, who depended much more than we do on hunting and fowling for their food, and who could not import birds from other countries, as we perhajjs might do. Hence the Law of God stepped in, and said : ' Stop ; think : take the young if you want them, but let the mother- bird go ; for she may build another nest and rear another brood. Take enough for to-day ; but don't forget to-morrow. Take enough for yourself ; but don't forget your neighbour. He may find the nest nest year, and may want it then even more than you want it now.' So that God's care for birds was also a care for men. He was teaching them fore- thought and charity. He was teaching them to be provident, and to be neighbourly, when He said, ' Tliou shalt in any wise let the dam go ' ; i.e. Thou shalt do at least so much as that. 'Don't be greedy,' then, is the first lesson we find in our bird's nest. ' Don't snatch at all you can for to-day, careless about to-morrow. Don't grasp at all you can for yourselves, unmindful of others. Think of the future. Think of your neighbours.' And that is a lesson which all children need to learn. They cannot help being hungry, but they can help being greedy. It is natural and right that they should wish to have good things — not only good things to eat, but good things of many kinds; but it is wrong for them to grudge good things to others, to want to keep the best to themselves. Boys and girls should think of what they can give, as well as of what they can get. Nothing is pleasanter than to see a boy who is man enough to control himself, to govern and restrain his appetites, his passions, his tempers, unless it be to see a girl who is woman enough to think of others before herself, and to find her pleasure in pleas- ing them. Children who eat themselves ill, and play themselves cross, who cannot look beyond the present moment, and do not care who suffers so that they get their way, are like the Hebrew fowler who took the mother-bird with the young, and left nothing for to- mon'ow, nothing for his neighbour. n. Another lesson taught by this law about a bird's nest is this : !t Brings the Law of God into tlie Little Things of Life. — And that is just where we most need it, and are most apt to forget it. The words that told men how to take a bird's nest, taught them that there was a right and a wrong way of doing even such a little thing as that ; and therefore they were very wholesome words. For what they meant was, that God was always with them, that nothing so small could be but that they might do it unto Him ; that even when they went out to walk, or to hunt, or to catch birds in the pastures and on the hills, they did not leave God behind them, nor their duty to Him ; that God's pure and kindly will com- passed them about on every side, and that they might show their reverence for His will even in handling a bird's nest. And what could make them, what could make you, happier than to feel that the great Father in heaven is always with you, even when you play in the fields ; and, with you, both to show you that which is right and to save you from the pain of doing wi'ong. Let no one ever make you think of God as hard and cold and stern, or of duty as simply painful and austere. God is love ; and His love is all about you like a soft summer air which brings health and glad- ness with it. You need not be afraid of Him. He is your best Friend ; better than father, better than mother even, the Friend whom you should be most glad to have with you. If He ever looks austerely and rebukingly at you, it is only as a good father looks grave and forbidding, and shakes his head, when he sees that his child is thinking of doing something wrong, something the pleasuie of which will soon pass, while the pain of it will remain. For it is this, it is wrongdoing, it is sin, not duty which is really painful. To obey God, to do one's duty, is not painful, though there may be pain in it so long as we {.re weak. It is like breaking through a hedge to get into a field full of all delights ; we may get a few scratches in passing through ; but who cares for a few scratches from the hedge, if he is sure of a good time in the field? III. But this rule about bird's-nesting teaches us that all love is sacred ; and this is the most beauti- ful lesson I have found in it. If the love of a bird is sacred, how much more sacred is the love of a boy or a girl, of a woman or a man I All love is sacred. It is base and wicked to take advantage of it, to turn it against itself, to use it for selfish ends. Love is the strongest thing in the world. People will do for love what they would do for nothing else. And there are those who know that, and who take such base advantage of it that they sometimes ruin the character and spoil the life of those who love and trust them. There is nothing in the world so wicked, so base, so vile. If you have parents, or brothers and sisters, or young companions and friends, who love you dearly, O take heed what you do ! Their love will be the comfort and joy of your lives if you retain and respond to it. But that love puts them in your power. You may hurt them through it, and grieve them through it, and make them go wrong when, but for you, they would have gone right. And if you do, you will be scorned by all good men and women. If you do, what will you say to the God of all love, and what will He say to you, when you stand before Him ? — Samuel Cox, The Bird's Nest, p. 1. 104 Ver. 10. DEUTERONOMY XXVI Ver. 10. FIRST FRUITS FOR GOD ' And now, behold, I have brought the first fruits of the land, which Thou, O Lord, hast given me.' — Deuteronomy XXVI. 10. Suppose you were living in the country, and your father gave you a little piece of ground in his garden to cultivate as a garden of your own ; suppose you had a rose-bush, and day after day watched the first roses coming out in bud and flower ; and suppose you had a strawberry plant, and watched it, at first white with blossom, and then saw the fruit coming in fine red berries : what would you do with your first flowers and first fruit ? Keep them for yourself and eat them ? No. I cannot think you would be so selfish and so greedy. Some fine morning you would give father and mother a surprise. They woidd come down to breakfast and find a rosebud or a strawbeiTy on their plates. ' What is the meaning of this ? ' they would say ; and you woidd look very pleased and reply, ' They ai'e out of my own garden, the very first I got '. First fruits for father and mother ! Yes ; and ' First fruits for God,' our Heavenly Father ! Should not that always be the rule ? All we have comes to us from Him. Fruit, flowers, friends, health, happy homes. 'Every good gift ... is from above, and Cometh down from the Father of lights.' Should we not say, ' Fii-st fruits for God ! ' God gave the land of Canaan to the children of Israel. He brought them forth from slavery in Egypt, into a land flowing with milk and honey. That means that the grass in the pastures was so good that the cows gave plenty of milk, and the flowers in the fields so abun- dant and sweet that there were swarms of bees and hives of honey. Now, would it have been right for the children of Israel to keep all their good things for themselves? No. 'Thou shalt take of the first of all the fruit of the earth . . . and shall put it in a basket . . . and thou shalt go unto the priest . . . and say unto him, I profess this day unto the Lord thy God, that I am come unto the country which the Lord sware unto our fathers for to give us. . . . And now, Iiehold, I have brought the first-fruits of the land, which Thou, O Lord, hast given me' (Deut. XXVI. 2, 3, 10). ' First fruits for God ! ' Let that be the rale for us all. I. First Fruits of Time for Qod. — Time is divided into days and weeks and months and years, and we should begin each of these divisions of time with God and give the first to Him. Begin the year with God. — Some churches have a midnight service on the 31st of December, and close the old year and bring in the new year with prayer and praise. Other people think it better to begin the year quietly in prayer at home, or in an early prayer meeting on New Year's morning ; but there are few to be found, I hope, who do not have serious and grateful thoughts on .New Year's Day, and try to begin each year with God. Begin the week with God. — The first day of the week is 'The Lord's Day,' and should be kept sacred for the Lord's service. The Jews kept Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath. We keep 'The Lord's Day' in memory of the Lord's Resurrection, and thus devote the first fruits of our time each week to God. Hay)py are the families where this is done. No weekday books on Sundays, or weekday toys and games, but plenty of pleasure for all that Rest from work and lessons. Father at home all day. A happy Sunday dinner all together, with some specially good things for the children. Plenty of singing. Bright services in Sunday .school and church, and beautiful Bible stories of Jesus and His love. Although to some of us Sunday is the hardest day of the week, I am sure it is the happiest day, and ' the best of all the seven '. Begin the day with God. — Let the first printed page on which the eye rests always be the Bible, and let the fii-st waking thoughts be thoughts of gratitude to God for a good night, and prayer for a good day. II. First Fruits of Money for Qod. — Children have not much money ; all the more reason to make a good use of what they have. I knew a little boy who had an allowance of thi-eepence a week, and he was taught from the first to divide it in this way — a penny for God, a penny to save, and a penny to spend. Divide your allowance as you think right, but always re- member 'First fruits for God,' as Paul taught the Corinthians to lay by a certain proportion on the first day of the week as conscience should direct. Then if this habit is formed when you are a little boy or girl, as you get older and earn weekly wages or a salary and have a regular income, it will come quite easy and natural to set aside a fixed portion to be kept sacred for the service of God ; and if this were done by everybody, by men and women as well as by children, all our Missionary Societies would have lots of money ; and giving money, instead of being a pain, as it is to some people like the pulling of a tooth, would be a positive pleasure. And if a ' windfall ' comes, a present or a legacy we did not expect, dropping like an apple from a tree into our lap, we should certainly think of ' Fu-st fruits for God'. III. First Fruits of Life for Qod.— When God gave little Samuel to Hannah as her first-born child she gave him back to the Lord, ' As long as he liveth he shall be lent to the Lord,' and little Samuel was not many yeai-s old before he gave himself. The Lord called him, and he replied, ' Speak ; for Thy servant heareth ' ; and as the Lord's sei^vant he did as he was bid. If you wish to be happy, you will copy little Samuel and will do the same. You know much more of God than little Samuel knew. You know of Jesus and His love for children, and of His life and death upon the cross, that those who trust in Him may live. Do trust in Jesus, and begin to-day and consecrate the first fruits of life and time and talents to H,s service. — F. H. Robarts, Sunday Morning Talks, p. 169. 10.5 Ver. 13. DEUTERONOMY XXVIIL, XXXIl Ver. 31. THE HEAD, AND NOT THE TAIL ' And the Lord shall make thee the head, and not the tail ; and thou shalt be above only, and thou shalt not be be- neath ; if that thou hearken unto the commandments of the Lord thy God which I command thee this day, to observe and to do them.' — Deuteronomy xxviii. 13. Dr. James Brown, in his adniirable Life of Dr. William B. Robertson of Irvine, tells of the young farm -servant lad at Greenhill, who, on the first occasion upon which he was present at the family Sabbath evening ' catechising,' when asked, ' What is the chief end of man ? ' replied, ' I dinna ken thae questions, maister ; but I'm thinking mysel', though I may be wrang, that it should be his heid '. Hugh mistook the meaning of that grand opening question of the Shorter Catechism. And yet, taking his own peculiar view of its meaning, his answer was most correct. The head is the noblest and the most beautiful, as well as the most necessary part of the animal frame. It is the centre of life. It provides for all the body. It governs all the body. I. Now Moses, the Lawgiver, in this farewell ad- dress, assures the children of Israel that if, after their settlement in the land of Canaan, they shall fear God, and love Him, and keep His commandments, He ' will set the Hebrew nation on high above all nations of the earth '. Israel, so long as he is loyal to Jehovah, shall be ' the head, and not the tail ' ; he shall be ' above only, and not beneath '. That is to .say, he shall be the leader of the Gentile nations, and not their subject or follower. But Moses tells them also, on the other hand, that should they prove unfaithful and disobedient, they must be prepared for an opposite destiny. In that case, ' the stranger that is within thee shall get up above thee very high : and thou shalt come down very low. He shall lend to thee, and thou shalt not lend to him ; he shall be the head, and thou shalt be the tail ' (verses 43, 44). Which of these two destinies did the Hebrew na- tion choose ? For a short season it looked as if that nation was really to become ' the head '. God raised up King David to sit upon a glorious throne. The reign of his son was the Hebrew golden age ; in Solomon's time ' Judah and Israel were many, as the sand which is by the sea in multitude ' ; the Queen of Sheba came from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear his wisdom ; and he built a great Temple to the glory of the God of Israel. But, alas ! the Hebrews did not continue faithful to the divine covenant. They cast God's law behind their backs. They worshipped idols, and pereecuted the prophets, and killed the Lord Jesus Christ. And so, instead of being 'the head,' they have become 'the tail'. There was first the Assyrian captivity, then the Babylonish captivity, and at last the total dispersion, which continues to this day. The Jews have ' come down very low ' ; for more than eighteen hundred years they have been a nation without a national home. Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast. How shall ye flee away and be at rest ! The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave, Mankind their country — Israel but ihe grave ! II. But God is not the God of the Jews only ; and so He makes precisely the same promise and threaten- ing to the Gentile peoples. The leading nations of the world to-day are those which ai'e the most Christian. What nation is ' the head ' among the Powers of Europe ? Surely we may answer, without any of the partiality of patriotism, that it is our own beloved country. Great Britain is the mother of Greater Britain, that family of strong young nations which have begun to possess the future of the world, — the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Cape Colony, and others. And what nation is ' the tail ' among the European peoples ? Is it not that of Turkey^ — the one Moham- medan nation of the Continent ? Turkey is really what Nicholas I. of Russia called it long years ago — ' the Sick Man ' among the Powers of Europe. The Turks are lazy, selfish, and cruel. The government of the Sublime Porte is bad — little better, indeed, in some departments, than a system of organised robbery. Ottoman law declares the slave-trade to be illegal, and at the same time allows it to be largely carried on. Turkey has ' come down very low ' ; it is ' the tail '. And we know who it is, according to the proverb, that ' takes the hindmost '. III. We ought to remember, too, that what the Lawgiver says in this verse is true of persons as well as of peoples. A boy at school prefers, if it be possible, to be ' the head ' — dux in his class, if he be fond of books ; or captain of the eleven in the cricket club, if he be fond of sports. He tries to avoid having to confess that he is in any sense ' the tail '. We have all heard of the little fellow who, when asked day after day at home where he stood in the class, always answered that he was 'second dux,' until by and by his parents found out that there was only one other pupil besides himself in the class. It is those boys and girls, and those men and women, that are conscientious and diligent and God- fearing, who gradually grow in influence, and come to be more and more looked up to by their fellows. When we read the lives of the godly men of the Bible, we find that the constant tendency of their goodness is to lift them upwards. We see it in Joseph, in David, in Daniel, in Mordecai. The young people who are at present at school are just, as we say, 'beginning life'. The great question before each of them regarding the future is this — What will he do with it ? Forty years hence, many of the present generation of school children will be dead ; and of those who survive, some will be 'the head,' and others, alas ! will be 'the tail'. — Charles Jerdan, Messages to the Children, p. 234. THE SHAM ROCK AND THE REAL ROCK {Object — a Shamrock). (Our Rock) Deuteronomy xxxii. 31. I suppose that most boys and girls have at some time seen that graceful little leaf called ' The Shamrock '. It is often used as the National Emblem of Ireland. 106 Ver. 27. DEUTERONOMY XXXIIl Ver. 27. The stories told about St. Patrick, and how he drove all snakes out of Ireland, are about as tall or idle as the silly snake stories told of Queensland. Even if it be not strictly true, yet the legend of St. Patrick and the trefoil leaf or shamrock is both prettv and pointed. Tradition says that in order to illustrate to his listeners the unity of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, St. Patrick plucked the little green shamrock leaf and showed how that the three leaves were blended on one. Jesus who is represented as the centre leaf is sometimes likened also to a rock. ' He is a real rock.' I. Jesus is the Rock of Supply. — Paul in one of his letters tells how the people of Israel in their wanderings were called to pass through ditHcult places. As they journeyed their needs were supplied. ' For they drank of that spii'itual rock which followed them and that rock was Christ.' Water from a rock is cool and refreshing. I re- member once seeing these lines on a wayside spring : — Weary traveller rest and drink. Then ^o thy way remembering still The wayside spring beneatli the hill, A cup of water in His name. II. Jesus is the Rock of Strength. — ' He hath set my feet upon a rock.' A little child playing on the seashore playfully remarked to his sister whose feet were sinking in the soft sand, ' Mary, / can't sink, for I'm now standing on a rock '. III. Jesus is the Rock of Shelter. — ' A great rock in a weary land.' You have heard of safety found in the great Rock of Gibraltar. We cannot all find shelter there, but to Jesus all may go and abide in safety. Jesus is a rock in a weary land, a shelter in the time of storm. — A. G. Wellee, Sunday Gleams, p. 56. GOD OUR REFUGE ' The eternal God is thy dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arras.' — Deuteronomy xxxiii. 27. As I have taken my text from the Bible, which is the Word of God, so I shall have much to say about God, who is our Father in heaven. You all believe in God ; you say a gi-eat deal about Him ; you ask many questions about Him ; and you pray to Him before you go to sleep at night. I. God is a Person — He thinks and feels and wills ; He heare and sees and remembers. We can- not see Him or hear Him, yet we can see the things which He has made. And He has given us the Bible, and we may love Him as He loves us, and so we may know God by loving Him. When the snow falls and you run out in it, you leave footprints in the snow which you and others see. Those little footprints in the snow tell how large you are, which way you are going, whether you walk or run, what kind of a shoe you wear. Now God has left footprints which we can see, and which tell us much about Him, just as your footprints in the snow tell us about you. Tiic grass, the trees, the stars, the sun, the moon, all tell us of God, how great and wise He is. II. God Created all Things. — It is true that the shoemaker made your shoes ; the tailor or dress- maker or your mother made your clothes ; the clock- maker made the clock that ticks so steadily ; the cabinet-maker made the furniture ; the carpenter built the house ; but God made the leather, the wool, the wood, the world, the stars. He made man to be like Him ; and so, as God makes things to be and grow, man makes what he can out of the things God prepares. III. God is Eternal. — He never began to be and will never cease to be. We were born and we shall die. God was never born and will never die. He is without beginning or end of days. He is from ever- lasting to everlasting, eternal. He lives for ever. He is the eternal God, as our text says, and His arms are everlasting. IV. How Does God Look ? — We cannot tell, for we have never seen Him. True, He made us in His own likeness, not our bodies, but our souls. We can see our bodies, our hands, feet, head ; but we cannot see the soul within our body, that thinks, feels, wills. No one has ever seen the soul of a man. We are like God in our souls, not in om- bodies. Our fingers cannot think, but our souls can and do think. In soul we are like God. Yet since we have eyes, and arms, and feet, and a mouth, we speak of the eyes of the Lord, the arms of God, the mouth of God, because it helps us to understand God. But we must not think that God has a body such as we have. He is a spirit as our souls are spirits. We cannot tell how a spirit looks. V. God is Everywhere. — We are in different seats, live in houses far apart, and cannot often see one another. God is everywhere. He sees us wher- ever we go. He sees in the night-time as well a.s in the daylight. Your parents are not with you always, and they cannot hear what you say and see what you do ; but God is always with you, to hear and to see. Remember that God sees and hears you all the time, and be afraid to say or do anything wrong. VI. God is a Refuge for You. — He loves you as your father does. If you are afraid of anything, you run to your father and he takes you in his arms to keep you from harm. So our text tells us that God, the eternal God that never dies, is your refuge, and that He will put His everlasting arms beneath you and keep you from all harm. When you are sick and weary, your father puts his strong arms underneath you and lifts you up and comforts you. So God com- forts all that need and ask Him for comfort. Did you never sleep in your father's arms or in your mother's lap ? How sweet to sleep in the arms of God, and rest there for ever ! How many little lambs has Jesus carried in His bosom ! How many has He borne into heaven in His loving arms ! Let us flee to Him when we are sorry for sin and afraid, and He will forgive and comfort us. 107 Ver. 27. DEUTERONOMY XXXIII Ver. 27. VII. Shall we ever See Qod ? — Yes, we shall see Him by and by, and we shall have to tell Him all we have ever said and done, the good and the bad alike. If we omit the bad and tell the good. He will know it. Yet He is our kind Father in heaven, who sent His Son Jesus Christ to die for our sins, that He might forgive them. If we repent of sin, and turn from it. He will forgive us our sins, and heaven shaO be our home for ever. There is a God, who made all things, who is a per- son as each one of us is a person, who is eternal, spiritual, everywhere present; who is a safe refuge for us all from sin and sorrow, and whom we shall see by and by. Let us prepare to meet God. — A. Hast- ing Ross, Sermons for Children, p. 10. 108 JOSHUA STRENGTH AND COURAQH 'Be strong and of a good courage.' — Joshua i. 6. Although the strength of active limbs and firm muscles and the courage which men share with the lower animals are not to be despised, but praised and sought after in their degree, yet it is to the nobler qualities the text chiefly refers, when it says, ' Be strong and of a good courage '. I. The Need of Strength and Courage. — This word of good cheer was first spoken to Joshua, the brave leader of the army of Israel, when he was standing on the brink of Jordan and about to cross over and con- quer Canaan. God gave it to him, and repeated it thrice over, so that he might never forget it. He did not get it only for himself. He circulated it through the whole army. It went like a watchword from mouth to mouth ; and for years afterwards, in hours of peril, one soldier used to cry to another, ' Be strong and of a good courage '. Joshua and his men needed it, or God would not have said it to him thrice so earnestly. Indeed, their need of it was very great. They had Canaan to conquer — its towns and cities to storm, its kings and princes to capture, and its tribes to subdue. Some of these were strong and warlike ; some were giants ; all were prepared to fight hard for their lives, their goods, and their families. Well might Joshua be afraid and feel himself weak as he faced such an enter- prise. Therefore God came near and cheered him with the exhortation, ' Be strong and of a good cour- age'. This word is sent to us too, because we also have a campaign before us ; not one great battle only, but many battles. We have enemies to subdue that are strong, obstinate, and fighting for life. Do you know what they are ? Have you commenced to fight them yet? Let me tell vou when you will need to hear this cheering cry. 1. In the hour of confession. — Jesus calls upon every one of you to confess Him ; that is, to take His side, and to let others know which side you are on. ' If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.' ' Whoso- ever,' he says, ' shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny Me before men, him will I also deny before My Father which is in heaven.' You see how solemnly He demands this from you. If you do not confess Him on earth. He will not confess you on the last day. But it is no easy thing to do. There are bearded men who would kindle with rage if any one accused them of cowardice, but who are afraid to confess Christ. There are hundreds of young men proud of their courage and strength, yet not strong and brave enough for this. It is often exceed- ingly difficult at school. Very likely some of you are hanging back from becoming Christians, just because you are afraid of the shame and opposition you might have to face among your companions if you became followers of Christ. I have heard a young man tell that he was brought to Christ when he was a boy at a public school. It became known among his school- fellows, and one day, when he entered the playground, he found them drawn up in a body to meet him ; and as soon as they had him in their midst, they assailed him with laughter and cries of contempt. He was taken completely by sm-prise : his face burned with shame and anger, and the ground seemed to be reel- ing beneath his feet. It was a Monday morning, and the first exercise, after they had entered the school, was to repeat some verses of a Psalm. A pupil was called up to repeat them, and as the poor young Christian sat bewildered among his persecutors, the first words which fell on his ears were : — And now, even at this present time, Mine head shall lifted be Above all those that are my foes, And round encompass me. They seemed to be sent straight from heaven to him. They completely drove away his agitation, and made him calm and happy. He knew it was his Father saying to him, ' Be strong and of a good corn-age ' ; and sorely did he need this encouragement in his hour of confession. 2. In the hour of temptation. — We elder folk, to whom you are dear often look forward to a time when you will have to leave your homes, and go out into the tempting world. We look forward to it with fear, though you may seldom think of it your- selves. You are at present like a boat inside a harbour, riding in quiet water, or at most swaved from side to side by tiny wavelets. But soon the boat will have to put out from the harbour mouth, and enter the open sea beyond the protecting walls. It will have to encounter the wild storms and the rushing waves, and we tremble le.st it should be wrecked. Many a brave vessel has been lost there, getting among the hidden reefs or being dashed on the cruel rocks. Even already you may know some- thing of what it is to have to say No, when loved companions are urging you to do evil and your own inclinations are seconding their suggestions. There is many a hard struggle with temptation fought out before school is left behind. Yet the real struggle is still in front. You remember the three Hebrew 109 Ver. 6. JOSHUA I Ver. 8. youths who were tempted to deny their consciences and theu' God. The whole world was against them. They were brought near to the fire. The furnace was heated seven times. So in all probability will the furnace of temptation be by and by heated for vou. Will you quail and sink on your knees to worship the idol, or will you stand up and say No ? Oh, may you hear in that hour the words of Divine encouragement ringing in your eai-s ; for surely you will need them. 3. In the hour of misfortune. — Yours is the age of happiness. Most of you as yet know little of sorrow. Your fathers and mothers bear care and sorrow in place of you, and shield you from the cold world in their warm embrace. Long may your hearts be light and your voices ring with mirth ; but the hour of misfortune can scarcely fail to come some day. It is the lot of all It comes in a hundred tlifferent shapes. Think, as you read this, how vast is the united cry of pain ascending from earth to heaven. In hospitals, thousands are tossing on beds of anguish. In the homes of affliction, men and women and children are the prey of a hundred diseases, and those who stand around their beds in tears have scarcely less to suffer. How many of the aged, whose friends have died and whose business has failed them, have to look poverty in the face. And many hearts in every city are smarting with suffering far more hopeless than that which comes from pain of body or lightness of purse. You, too, may some time be thus labouring in the darkness with the tempestuous sea about you. So the di.sciples toiled in rowing that awful night on the Lake of Galilee, when they thought every moment their boat was to be engulfed and their lives lost. But across the waters, stepping from the ridge of one swelling wave to another, there came a radiant Figure ; and a voice which rose above the storm reached their ears, repeating almost the very words of our text. Did they not need it ? May you and I hear it too in our hour of suffering. 4. In the hour of death. — It is possible that some of us may to a very large extent escape misfortune. There are a favoured few on whom the diseases, the bereavements, the losses and crosses which crush others, do not fall. But there is one dread hour in front which none of us shall escape. Not the most fortunate can escape death. I hope it is far from most of you, though it comes to the young as well as to the old ; and none of us can tell how soon it will come to us. Are you ready for that encounter ? Can you look eternity in the face without flinch- ing ? Could you lie down to die, knowing that as you died so you would appear at the j udgment-seat, without crying out for strength and courage gi-eater than your own, and praying for a voice to whisper in your ear the words of Divine encouragement ? II. The Source of Strength and Courage. — I have already hinted where strength and courage for these hours of danger and conflict are to be found. It was told to Joshua in these words, following those of our text : ' Be not afraid, neither be thou dis- mayed : for the Lord thy God is with thee whither- soever thou goest '. This is the secret. It is to have God ever near — a Friend unseen to others, but visible to us. Not long after this time Joshua had a great task on hand — the capture of the city of Jericho. He did not know how it was to be done ; it seemed impossible ; and he began to forget the watchword he had received on the bank of the Jordan. But one morning very early, before the camp about him was awake, he saw near him the figure of a man with a drawn sword in his hand. He went up to him and asked — ■' Art thou for us, or for our adversaries ? ' to which the stranger made answer — ' Nay, but as captain of the Lord's host am I now come '. It was the angel of the Lord come to help Joshua. His fears vanished, Jericho was taken, and, accompanied by his heavenly friend, Joshua went forward, ever brave and strong, to his other conquests. Christ with us — that will make us strong and courageous. He knows all the dangers that are before us. Nothing creates terror so much as what is unknown. We dread the darkness, because we cannot tell what it may hide. But Christ knows everything which the future can contain for us. Be- sides, he is almighty. Our enemies are strong — the wicked heart, the tempting world, the unknown future. But gi'eater is He that is with us than they which are with them. No power can stand against us if he is on our side. And best of all, he loves us. You know how we trust those who love us. Some of you could not bear to go into a dark room alone ; but if your father carried you into it in his arms, you would not be the least afraid. You would walk along the darkest road if your father held your hand. So, if we know that Christ loves us, and that he has aU power, and knows all that is before us, what have we to fear ? — James Stalker, The New Song, p. 141. STICK TO THE BOOK ' And then thou shaft have good success.' — Joshua i. 8. Object — A pocket Bible. ' Caeey your Bible with you, take it wherever you go.' An excellent precept for personal practice, stick to the book. ' Meditate therein day and night, for then shalt thou make thy way prosperous, and then shalt thou have good success.' What do these wise words suggest to the young folk of to-day ? Do they not seem to say : — I. Stick to the Book for Salvation. — The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul (Psalm xix. 7). 'It is now sixty-two years since I became a Christian,' said a venerable old gentleman to a class of young men of which he was teacher. ' I have now passed the allotted span of life, but in looking backwards I can say with devout praise "not one of His good promises has ever failed me ".' Jesus seeks to save. II. Stick to the Book for Strength. — In the first letter of John, chap, v., immediately after his refer- ence to the little children and the fathers, the writer 110 Ver. 1. JOSHUA VII Ver. 1. says, ' I have written unto you young men, because ye are strong- and the word of God abideth in you ' (1 John II. 14). The strong men are, and always have been, Bible men. There is a picture in London, entitled ' The Death of Cromwell '. The whole room is dim with shadows. A Bible lies on the hero's breast, and there is a light flashing from it ii-radiating his face with a glory not of earth. ' A glory gilds the sacred page, majestic like the sun.' III. Stick to the Book for Success. — Not ordinary success. No, the promise is qualified in the text, 'good success'. There are few men of whom a mother felt more justly proud and to whom the Christian world owes a more lasting debt of gratitude than to the great John Kitto for that most useful exposition of Scrip- ture, known as Kitto's Daily Readings. John Kitto made the book his own. Do likewise. ' Be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed ; for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.' — A. G. Weller, Sunday Gleams, p. 94. THE STORY OF ACHAN Joshua vii. i. The story of Achan is one of the saddest in the Bible. It is a story of evildoing, and of the sore death that fell on the evildoer. But it is not that which makes it the saddest. It is this, that the death which fell on the man who did the evil did not stop at him, but reached over and fell on his innocent children, and on the very lambs of his flock. ' They took Achan, and his sons, and his daughters, and his oxen, and his asses, and his sheep, and all that he had ; and all Israel stoned them with stones and burned them with fire.' I am going to tell you of the great evil which Achan did, and of the evil thoughts which led him to do it, and of the terrible death which he and his had to die for his doing of it. Achan was a farmer. He was not a poor man. He had oxen and asses and sheep, and he had sons and daughters to attend to them. And like the other farmers of Israel at that time, he was a soldier. And like every soldier, he was bound to be true to God, his great King. And with the other soldiers he had to fight in the battle against Jericho. The Lord gave them a great victory over Jericho. It was a city surrounded by walls. The walls fell at the sound of the trumpets of Israel. And all the city, and all its gold and its silver, and its brass and its iron, and the beautiful garments of its citizens, fell into the hands of Israel. Now before the battle the Lord said to the fighters, ' The gold and the silver, the brass and the iron, shall belong to Me, shall be wealth for Me, and everything else shall be de- stroyed '. So that if a soldier came on a beautiful garment or anything else that was beautiful it was to be destroyed. But if he came upon gold or silver it was to be given over to God. As Achan was fighting in the streets and in the houses he came upon a heap of things rich and beautiful. There was a dress made in Babylon, the richest that could be made in those days, and there was a heap of silver and a wedge of gold. Up till that moment Achan was a brave fighter. He was doing the hard and difficult work of a soldier. But what he now saw made the sword arm drop to his side. He was alone. A moment had come to him when he had a more difficult battle to fight than that against Jericho : he had to fight against himself. But he did not fight this difficult battle. He saw before him, wholly within his reach, the glorious rich robes, the Babylonish garment, and the silver and the gold. It was his duty there and then to have taken them to his officer. But he did not take them to his officer. He kept looking at them. Perhaps he said within his heart, it can do no harm to look at them. But it was an evil heart which spoke in this way, and the evil heart deceived him. It said to him. No, thei'e is no harm in a look, or in a second, or in a third look. And by and by he could do nothing else but look. He forgot his task as a soldier. He .saw the rich spoils. He stood still where they lay, and still he looked. But now a new thought came into his heart. His heart had j ust said to him, ' There is no harm in looking at the goodly things.' In the same heart now rose up the desire to have them for his own. And he gave way to this desire. In his look now there was the hunger of an evil wish. He coveted the silver and the gold that belonged to God, and the Babylonish garment, which he ought to have de- stroyed. Up till this moment he was innocent, or nearly innocent. But now he was reaching out his heart to things that did not belong to him. He coveted them. In the New Testament it is said that covetousness is idolatry : when an evil heart leads anyone to wish for himself what is not his own, it is like giving worship to a false god. And possibly, in the short, swift moments in which Achan did the evil deed, he still had time to admire, and in his own soul praise, the riches and the beauty of the spoils. It was an evil new step he was taking. But even yet, if he had remembered the true God, and that he was a soldier for the true God, he might have escaped the snare into which, as a silly bird, he was flying. But he put the thought of the real God away from him. For the moment the silver and the gold and the Babylonish gannent, as they lay together in one heap, were his god. He hungered after them. All that was good and brave and upright in him bowed down before them. His evil thought was hastening to become an evil deed. And at last it became the evil deed. He shut the eyes of his soul to God and honour and duty, and reached out his hands for the spoils. He took them. And only think what a distance and in how brief a time he had now travelled in sin in doing this ! He was a thief now. It was no longer a look, a thought, a wish : it was a deed. He had done the evil. He 111 Ver. 1. JOSHUA VII., XXIV Ver. 15. took the goodly things — the things that were not his own, but God's. Yet, perhaps, even then, the evil heart within went on deceiving him. Perhaps it said to him, as it has so often said to evildoers, ' You are not worse than othere. Others, if they had this chance, would do as you desire to do. And it is only a fool who would throw such a chance away.' But whether the evil heart spoke to him in these very words or no, he took the splendid dress and the silver and the gold. And last of all he hid them. Once more his evil heart deceived him. ' Hide them,' it said. ' Nobody knows — nobody has seen — nobody can ever know.' So he rushed by hidden ways, carrying the spoil out from the city, away to the camp, to his own tent. And there he dug a pit, and in that pit he put the things — the silver and the gold and the Babylonish garment. And there was a moment- — one short moment — as he covered up the spoil with eaith, when his heart had joy. Nobody had seen him. Nobody knew what he had done. The things were safe in his keeping. Alas ! Somebody had seen him. One was looking on all the time he was hungering for the goodly things : somebody followed him from the city, along the hidden ways, and into his very tent. God had seen all. God knew the evil he had done. And by. the power of God all the hidden evil came up into the light. And the gold, and the silver, and the Babylonish garment were dug up and brought forth in the face of all the jieople of Israel. And Achan, the soldier that should have givtn up the spoil, the farmer that had oxen and asses and sheep of his own, and was not driven by poverty to steal — Achan, the father of gallant sons and daughters, whose honour and well-being he should have cared for — was brought forth to die. But it is this that troubles me in telling the story. He was not brought forth alone. His sons and his daughters were at his side. They had done no part of the evil. They had not coveted what belonged to God. But all the same they had to die. It is this that makes the story one of the saddest in the Bible. I have listened to people who, reading this story, have cried out against the Jews. 'So cruel,' they have said ; ' so pitiless, so inhuman ! ' Yes, I used to think in that way. But it is long, long ago. I find that that old Jewish law by which the innocent children had to suffer with the guilty father is still the law of the loving Providence that is working good to us every day. If a father lowers himself to become a thief to-day, in this very land where so many kind hearts live, his children will suffer for his sin. " They will not be put to death, as Achan's children were, but they will suffer in a way that is harder to bear than death. It is not only children who suffer when parents do evil, but it is also, and oftener far, parents who suffer when children go wi-ong. We cannot do evil that will hurt only ourselves. Every sin, every crime, reaches out and gathers others within its evil net. If we sin, we bring all who love us, all who lean upon us, all whom we ought to honour, within the shadow and shame of what we have done. — Alexandee Macleod, The Child Jesus, p. 187. CHOOSE YOUR GOD ' And if it seem evil to you to serve the Lord, choose you this day whom ye will serve.' — Joshua xxiv. 15. Notice how Joshua puts his case. The text is often quoted in a way different from that in which the speaker meant it. We often say, Choose you this day whom you will serve — meaning, Choose between God and idols ; just as Elijah said, ' If the Lord be God, follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him '. But Joshua makes a different application. He supposes that the people had made up their minds to forsake the service of God. And then he says. Well, choose what idol you will have. As if a boy were to say to his mother, I am not going to live any more in your house, and she were to answer him, Very good, and where will you go ? I knew a boy once that thought he would get a better home than his mother's house, and ran away. He passed through a number of strange adventures, but he came back again to his mother's door. Alas! many, many of those who go away from God never come back. And it is a very miserable lot that all choose who prefer anything else to God's love. Joshua meant that. He meant to say to the people that whatever god they might select, they would find that they had made a wretched exchange. I wish to show you the same truth. Suppose, then, that you make up your minds to it, that you will not be religious, that you will not love God, and serve him, what will you do to be happy ? What will you live for ? To enjoy myself, says one. To get rich, says another. To get a great name, says a third. To have people love me, says a fourth. Well, these are four idols — pleasure, riches, praise, friendship. Bring them forth and set them up, and let us question them and see what they can do for you. Here is, fii-st of all — ' Pleasure '. It looks well. Let us hear what it promises to them that serve it. Come with me, children, says pleasure, and live as you like. When you are young, take your fill of fun and pla}'. As you grow older, sing, laugh, go after all sorts of amusements, be merry, and gratify all your desires. Be like Solomon, keep not yourselves back from anything that appears good to you. Live like the insect dancing in the sun, sporting from flower to flower ? That sounds well enough ; such a life promises fairly for a fine summer day. When you are well, prosperous, young, a gay life looks a fine thing on the outside. But life is not always summer, and the night comes. Pleasures will not shut sickness out, nor will they always last. There are some pleasures that bring pain as their fruit, just as things stand- ing in the sunshine throw from them a black shadow. They are like the smooth, beautiful serpent ; thev 112 Ver. 15. JOSHUA XXIV Ver. 15. carry a sting. Did you ever lead of the bee in the fable that found a pot of honey ready made, and thought it would be fine to save all the trouble of flying about the meadows and gathering its sweet stores, little by little, out of the cups of flowers, and began to sip out of the dish. Then it went in and revelled in the sweets ; but when it began to get tii-ed and cloyed, it found, poor bee, that its wings were all clogged and would not open, nor could it drag its body out of the mass. So it died, buried in plea- sure. There are many young people that find pleasure to be death to them. Besides, it is not so good as it looks, even while it lasts. Bits of stained glass will glow like jewels, but they are worth nothing after all. There are not more miserable persons than those who live for nothing but to enjoy themselves. Their days are just excitements and weariness. A child takes sweets — thinks it would like to hve on them — that it would be fine to be always eating dainties. Give the child its desire, and it would soon become disgusted. Force it to eat nothing but sweets, and you would kill it. All the pleasures of sin are deadly, and all pleasures which are sought as our happiness are swept in the mouth only. Here is a second idol which many worship — 'Wealth'. That's a great god just now. Indeed, it has always been. It is wonderful what people do to get money ■ — how much they value it, and are valued for it. Well, we shall suppose you get a great deal of it. Are you satisfied now ? Does your wealth make you happy? Forget all the toil, moil, and worry that it cost you to get it. Forget all the trouble you have about keeping it. We will say nothing about these. But what can your riches do for you ? They can buy you a fine house, they can load your table with delicacies, they can enable you to travel and see the world, they can bring summer friends around you, tlicv can get you all worldly delights you have a mind to. But they cannot give you a quiet conscience. They cannot prevent sorrows. You may be sick, you may lose friends, you may sit at a desolate hearth. You will see others richer than yourself, you will meet with losses, you will be in fear that all you have will make itself wings and flee away. At all events you must leave it ail some day. A nobleman was once showing a friend his fine estate, the beautiful pro- spect he had, the noble woods, the rich farms, the superb mansion. He was expecting to receive some compliment or congratulation, but his friend was a Christian, and he said, ' Ah, these ai'C the things which make dying dismal ! ' Yes, they do, where there is no better estate ready to go to. You remem- ber what Christ says about the rich man in the parable. He had got great harvest stores ; and when he had hit on the device of building bigger barns to put his goods in, he said to himself, ' What a happy man am I ! I have provision for years. I have noth- ing to do but to eat, and drink, and enjoy myself merrily.' But God said to him, ' Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee'. When death comes to a rich man, all his wealth will not bribe it away. Nor is this all. For not only is wealth sure to be taken away, but God will ask its owner to give account of how he used it. The more he had, the heavier the account. What James says of gold and silver ill-gotten, is true also of riches ill-spent. ' The rust of them will eat your flesh,' he says, ' as it were fire.' \^1lat is the name we give to a man who hoards his money, and makes it his all ? We call him a miser. Now, miser is a Latin word, just meaning miserable. A miser is a wretch. Put away, then, the golden idol. You must surely have a better trust, and a better portion than that. Some of you think, perhaps, that here is a better. Your idol is — 'Praise'. This is a fine-looking idol indeed. If you gave it a shape, it should have wings — with a pen in its hand to write your name in the rolls of honour, and a trumpet to sound it all abroad. Some such figures of fame have often been drawn. Praise has great charms for young people. And so, some of you may be saying, I will be clever, I will write a book, or find out some grand invention, and be known all the world over. I will be a fine singer, and draw great multitudes to my concerts. Or I will be a great lecturer or preacher, and crowds will come to hear me, and go away applauding me. Or I will be very learned, and people will wonder at me when I am living, and they will write my life after I am gone, or perhaps give me a monument. Yes, says fame, I will grave youi' name on the stone, and I will blow my trumpet loud over your grave. Ah, that's it, over your grave! Will you hear it then.? Will your dust sleep the sweeter for the sound ? Will that fame help you when the day comes for judging the world, and when Christ's approval will be the only praise worth having ? If Jesus should say at last, ' I know you not,' of what use will it be to you that thousands of men knew and praised you ? Sup- pose a man standing on the sea-shore in a fearful storm and trying to speak louder than the waves, would you not think him mad ? Men's praise can do fai- less against God's condemnation than a child's voice against the thunder. Besides, even here, praise is not substantial or satisfying. Could your body live on praise? As little can your soul. And if you should get renown by wrong deeds, it will wither even on earth. At the bar of God it will be a heavy curse. The fourth idol we supposed some one to choose is — ' Affection '. You who make choice of this wish your father's and mother's love. You desire to be happy in the fond regard of brothers and sister's. And you would like to have many friends. You would be happy pleasing them. You would be rich by winning hearts. Now, this in itself is beautiful. I say nothing against it. There is something here which will disappoint far less than pleasure, or riches, or praise. But earthly friends must die. Their love is a flower, however sweet, that must wither. Then earthly friends are not perfect. And the best of them must not take the place of God. What would you 113 8 Ver. 15. JOSHUA XXIV Ver. 15. think of a boy at school that would be at pains to please and gain the hearts of all his classmates, but never mind his teacher's approval ? Or what of a little girl that liked to have the warm affection of brothers and sisters, but was quite careless about her mother's love ? When Moses brought down the two tables of stone from Mount Sinai, what would you have thought of the Israelites if they had set to work to break the first table all into fragments, saying, It will do well enough if we keep the second? If you are at no pains to please God, how can you expect Him to take thought about pleasing you ? Now, if I should ask you again, Which idol will you choose — pleasure, riches, fame, fiiendship? I hope you are quite ready to say. None of them all. We need something better than them all. We will seek and serve God. That is the right choice ; that is the clioice to which Joshua wished to shut up the people he was speaking to. And to show you a little more how this is the wise and good choice, let me tell you one or two things about it : — I. In God you have what nothing else can give. You can say of His favour three things that you cannot sav of anything else. You cannot miss it, if you only seek it. You can never lose it. And it is everything you need. Can you say these things of money, or honour, or gay enjoyments ? II. In serving God you may have all the other portions too, as far as they are worth having. You may have pleasure. The world is full of pleasure for people who love God. It sings in the woods, it shines in the sky, it dances on the waves, it smiles in the faces of friends — it comes in at a thousand avenues. And deeper than all outward pleasures is the sense of peace with God, and the sweetness of talking with Him in the heart. If you read the fourth Psalm you will find something about this worth committing to memory. So you may have wealth, and it will be doubly valuable because God's blessing is with it, and you know how to do good with it. You cannot take money with you to heaven, but you can buy things with it that will meet you in heaven, and make you rich there. Jesus once spoke a singular word about this ; do you know it ? Find a passage about the ' mammon of unrighteousness,' and you have it. You may have praise too. The meek, obedient, holy child Jesus grew in favour with God and men. 'The memory of the just is blessed.' And choosing God you are sure of friendship and of love. Jesus will be your friend. He says, ' I love them that love Me '. Angels will love you — the good in heaven and on earth will love you. Your home will be in the world that is filled with love. — J. Edmond, The Children's Church, p. 214. CHOOSE WHOM YE WILL SERVE ' Choose this day whom ye will serve.' — Joshua xxiv. 15. I AM going to begin this afternoon by speaking about a picture I saw some time ago, and I wish you could have seen it too. Let me tell you about it. We are in a splendid temple in Rome, but, alas ! it is not a Christian temple, for we see on one side an image of the goddess Diana, in front of which on a stand or altar a fire is burning. Near the image stands a young girl with a very .sad expression on her face, and near her are her relations — -her father, mother, and sister ; there her lover and there her friend.s. Besides these you see the priests of the temple, and a crowd of Roman people. What have they brought this girl here for ? 'There is a look of anxious entreaty on the faces of her friends, as if they wanted her to make some serious choice, and yet their request seems very simple, all they want her to do is to throw a little of the incense which a prie.st is offering her into the fire which is burning in front of the image. Only a little incense, yes, but how much it means ! It means either to keep or lose her friends, hc'r lover, and her life. Shall she burn the handful of incense and choose Diana, this false god- dess, and keep her friends and her life, or choose Christ and lose all the rest ? In those far-off days many girls and boys and men and women, if they chose Christ as their God and King, had to lose all they loved most on earth — and they did choose Him, and for His sake suffered im- prisonment and a cruel death. How glad we ought to be that we live in times when we can serve Christ without the fear of having to suffer such dreadful things ! But like the young girl, we all have to choose whom we will serve. On one side is ourselves, our own way, our own wills and desires, the way of the world and the way of Satan — on the other side is Christ — which shall we choose ? He has chosen all of us, for when we were baptised He took us for His own children and brought us like lambs into the fold of the Church. And when we grew up, some of us at our confirmation, some perhaps before, although not in Church, chose Him as our Master; but others, although they belong to Him, do not serve Him, for they can't make up their minds to follow Him and walk in His footsteps. And why is this ? Because they think it is hard to serve Him ; it means denying themselves, and giving up their own way, and having to say ' No ' many times when it would be easier and pleasanter to say ' Yes '. That is quite true, but even in that case they need not be unhappy. What does S. Paul say ? and you know he had to give up a great deal when he chose Christ, and had to suffer many hard- ships after he had chosen Him. Sometimes he wa& put in prison, at other times stoned and beaten, sometimes he suffered hunger and thirst, was laughed at and insulted, and called all kinds of hard names — and yet does he seem unhappy ? No, not in the least ; he always seems full of sweet content, and joy, and happiness. Do you hear what he is doing in the jail at Fhilippi ? Listen, it is midnight, and instead of being asleep he is singing, and all the time the cruel stripes are on his back. I don't ask you to choose Jesus Christ because those who serve Him here will reach heaven at last, 114 Ver. 15 JOSHUA XXIV Ver. 15. although that is tjuite true. I don't ask you to choose Him for fear lest you should be punished for turning away from Him, although that is quite true too. But I say, choose Christ because He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. To choose Him is to choose all that is honest, and good, and true, and gentle, and kind — because to choose Him is to choose One Who will help vou to grow up into pure and good and noble men and women. ' We love Him because He first loved us,' do you hear that ? Look at the Saviour hanging on the cross and say, ' I am going to choose Him to be my King and my Guide — He died for me, and 1 am going to live for Him '. There are a gi'eat many men and women who have spoilt their lives and wrecked their hopes of happi- ness, and become miserable and wretched because they wouldn't choose. They meant to serve Christ, they knew His was the voice of truth, but they couldn't make up their minds to choose Him, and so gradually they have drifted into evil ways and formed bad habits, and are now walking along the broad road which leads to destruction. And, alas ! perhaps some are saying to themselves, ' It is too late to turn back now '. Let us be wise and choose — make up our minds once for all we will choose Christ to reign over us. Look at that vessel there on the sea. How very strangely it is sailing ! sometimes it goes a little one way, then it goes for a while in another direction, and now it seems to be standing quite still. What is the reason of that ? Why look ! there is no one at the helm to guide it, and so at times the current takes it in one direction and then the wind takes it in another — it is simply at the mercy of the winds and waves. Now a boy or a girl who doesn't choose the right is ju.st like that vessel, tossed here and there by every breath of fancy or desire. We come across men at times who seem to have no will of their own — they can't make up their minds as to what they ought to do, and so are always asking the advice of others. It is bad enough when a man is always borrowing money from others, but it is much more disastrous when we have to borrow opinions from others and use them as if they were our own. We pity such people and call them weak, and are not surprised if they turn out badly. There are only two ways — the way of life and the way of death — and if we don't deliberately choose the way of life, that is Chri.st, we shall find at last we have chosen, even without meaning it, the way of death. This day. Yes, choose Christ to-day, whilst you are young. It is much easier to choose to-day than it will be to-morrow, and we are not sure that we shall be able to choose to-morrow — the time for choosing may then be over for us. — R. G. Soaks, Sermons for the Young, p. 69. 115 JUDGES CRUELTY ' Threescore and ten kings, having their thumbs and their great toes cut off, gathered their meat under my table.'— Judges 1.7. Adoni-bezek is not a very pretty name, and yet it was the name of a king. The meaning of it is Lord of Bezek. This cruel man was king of Bezek, a town which Eusebius, the old Church historian, tells us was seventeen miles east of Shechem. The regions ruled over by the native princes, with- in the boundaries of Palestine, must have been very small, as this master of brutality had subdued seventy of them. He was a great man among this crowd of little ones, and he was the head of the combined forces of the Canaanites and Perizzites, against whom the tribes of Judah and Simeon marched after the death of Joshua. Adoni-bezek's army was routed, and he was made a prisoner. The victors treated him as he had treated others, according to the cruel custom of the times. Did Adoni-bezek complain of this ? By no means. He considered himself as an offender brought to justice, as he freely confesses : 'Threescore and ten kings, having their thumbs and their great toes cut off, gathered their meat under my table '. Observe, also, the remark which he adds to this dreadful ac- knowltdgraent of guilt: 'As I have done, so God hath requited me '. He died not long afterwards at Jerusalem. I ought, perhaps, to explain that Adoni-bezek's object in mutilating the seventy kings was to hinder them from going to war again. In these days of cork legs and arms, and other curious contrivances, the loss of a finger or a toe would not matter so much, but in early times it was quite effectual. A man who had lost his thumbs could not well handle the bow or spear ; nor could he march forth, steadily and firmly, as a military leader, without his big toes. Although Adoni-bezek apologised for the cruelty which the Hebrews practised on him, we cannot. Now that the Lord Jesus Christ has come, and taught us the duties of gentleness, forgiveness, and mercy, His people see matters in a different light. Sylla commanded the hones of Marius to be broken, his eyes to be pulled out, his hands to be cut off', and his body to be torn in pieces with pincers. Catiline enjoys the inglorious notoriety of having been the executioner. You must not suppose, for a moment, that because the Gospel has taught people that it is wrong to be cruel, that therefore all Christians are merciful. This would be very far from the truth. Cruelty is too common, even now, and children are guilty of it every day. The Supreme Court at Athens punished a lad very severely for putting out the eyes of a poor bird. Our courts would have business enough, should they attempt to measure out equal justice in our day. Once upon a time, in Finland, a dog was run over by a carriage, and, in its crip|5led condition, crawled to the door of a tanner. His thoughtless son first threw stones at the poor creature, and then poured a vessel of boiling water over it. One of the neighbours saw this diabolical act, and told his associates, who agreed that the boy should be kept in prison until the next market-day, and then be dealt with as he de.served. At the time appointed he was led forth, in the presence of a crowd of people, and the officer of justice read his sentence in these words : 'Inhuman young man, because you did not help an animal which implored your assistance by its cries, and which derived its being from the same God who gave you life ; because you added to the tortures of the agonised beast, and then killed it — the Council of this city have condemned you to receive fifty stripes, and to wear on your breast the name you deserve '. So saying, the officer hung a black board around his neck, with this inscription, ' A savage and inhuman young man,' and, after having given him twenty-five good hard blows, he thus went on : ' You have now felt a very small degree of the pain with which you tortured a helpless animal in its hour of death. As you wish for mercy from that God who created all that live, learn to be more humane in future.' The officer then executed the remainder of the sentence, and let the young man depart. We have no court like that at Athens, and no magistrate to do what was done in Finland, but there is a Court and a Magistrate which do take some notice of cruel deeds. I need not say that this Magistrate is God. His tender mercies know no bounds, and He hears the young ravens that cry unto Him. ' With the same measure that ye mete, shall it be measured to you again,' is the rule which our blessed Lord lays down. Some years ago several cruel boys and girls fastened a bullock's horn to the tail of a dog, and, turning him loose, followed him with brutal exultations. The affrighted animal ran down a narrow road, and went on as fast as possible, until he met a cart loaded with coal, drawn by two horses. The driver was seated on the shafts ; and before he had time to look about him, the horses took the alarm and ran off, throwing the man to the ground with such violence that he was almost instantly killed. When the 116 Vv. 5-7. JUDGES VII Vv. 5-7. thoughtless boys and girls came up, thinking only of the rare sport of tormenting the dog, they saw the dead body lying in the road. You can imagine their feelings when I tell you that it was their own brother who had been killed. There are different degrees of cruelty, but he who is cruel in little things is in a fair way to become cruel in great ones. The boy who, out of mischief, bends up a pin, and puts it slyly on the bench, that he may have the pleasure of seeing his unsuspecting com- panion sit down upon it, has only to let this spirit of ci-uelty glow in him, and there is no telling what he will not be willing to do by the time he has become a man. Some of you have heai'd the story of Uncle Toby and the fly, but it is well worth telling many times. His kindly heart would not pemiit him to be cruel to anything. One day he had been very much worried at dinner by a great, overgrown fly, and at last he succeeded in catching him. Uncle Toby went to the window, and raising the sash said to the buzzing creature, which was by this time pretty well frightened, ' I'll not hurt thee, no, not a hair of thy head. Get thee gone. Why should I hurt thee ? This world is surely wide enough to hold both thee and me ! ' Would you have been as kind and tender-hearted ? And now, if you forget all the stories I have told you, remember this : God will love no one who is cruel. — J. N. Norton, Milk and Honey, p. 173. SELF-CONTROL ' So he brought down the people unto the water. And the Lord said unto Gideon, Every one that lappeth of the water with his tongue, as a dog lappeth, him shalt thou set by himself; likewise everyone that boweth down upon his knees to drink. And the number of them that lapped, lifting- their hand to their mouth, was three hundred men ; but all the rest of the people bowed down upon their knees to drink water. And the Lord said unto Gideon, By the three hundred men that lapped will I save you, and deliver the Midianites into thine hand : let all the other people go, every man unto his place.' — Judges vii. 5-7. Even though an angel out of heaven should tell you that God is jealously and selfishly set on his own glory, and on giving as little credit to men as He can, do not believe him. It is not tme. It is shamefully untrae. It is a mere libel on our Father in heaven, For the glory of God is his goodness ; and He is never .so happy as when He is doing us good. It was because He wanted to do good to the Children of Israel, that he made it plain to them that it was He who had saved them, and not they themselves. Suppose they had defeated that great Arab host, which was like the locusts for multitude, purely by their own valour and skill, and had gone about puffed up and bragging of their own great deeds, would that have been good for them ? Was it not infinitely more for their good to learn that God was with them and for them, that He loved them and would always save them from their foes if they took his advice ; that He was their true Lord and King, and that they needed no other, because no other either could or would do half as much for them as He would do? This was the lesson He tried to teach them when He saved them by the thi'ee hundred. And, again, the end justified the means. For Gideon did both learn and teach this lesson. Though it was so evidently God who had saved the men of Israel, and had proved Himself to be their Lord by showing Himself to be their Minister, they were foolish enough to give most of the credit of their salvation to Gideon. But when they came to Gideon, and asked him to rule over them because he had delivered them out of the hand of Midian, Gideon laughed at them. He would not hear of their request. It was God who had saved them, he said ; and therefore it was God alone who should rule over them ; for would they not want saving again ? and who could save them but God only ? This, then, is the story of Gideon ; and this is the moral of the story — that God wants to rule over us only that He may save us ; or, to put it in another way : God wants us to know that it is He who has saved us, in order to assure us that He is always with us and for us, and that He will go on serving us and saving us to the end. I doubt, indeed, whether there is any one lesson you so much need to learn as that of self-rule, any habit which you so much need to form as that of self-control — the lesson taught, the habit illustrated, by the story of the three hundred. They felt, I suppose, that there were other and better things than the gratification of appetite, even when appetite was most craving and imperative. They felt that, while gratifying an appetite, they might lose life itself, or all that made life worth having. And, hence, they controlled their thirst, or their craving to indulge it, innocent as that craving was in itself, and lawful and right as it would have been to indulge it had the time been favourable to indulgence. And it is of the veiy first importance that you should share that feeling, and refuse to gratify cravings, appetites, desires, which may be quite natural and innocent in themselves, but which, nevertheless, it may be ^vrong of you to indulge, or wrong to indulge to the full. The great difficulty is to make you sensible of your danger — to get you to believe that you must control the most natural and healthy cravings on peril of your life. You are like the comrades of the brave three hundred. You see no ambush, you suspect no danger, and cannot understand why, when you are so thirsty, you should not fling yourselves on your faces and drink of the cool water as hard as you like. You can easily understand, indeed, that the poor neglected children you meet in the streets, or see in the workhouse, may eat or drink too much when they get a chance, or be too eager for gain if they see a chance of getting gain, or rush at any pleasure which comes in their way. But you, who have been brought up in pious comfortable homes, trained in good habits, provided with all you need — what danger can there be for you ? Alas ! there is much danger, constant danger, 117 Vv. 14-23. JUDGES VII Vv. 14-23. terrible danger, even for you. And I want to con- vince you of it ; for how can I expect that you will be on your guard against it unless you believe that it exists ? Self-control is retjuired at every moment, along the whole range of your habits, and through the whole course of your life. From our present point of view, it may be just as wrong to drink too much water as to drink too much wine ; just as wrong to eat too much wholesome food as to eat food which is unwhole- some ; just as wrong to give too much time to play, and to be too fond of it, as not to play at all ; just as wrong to be too eager to make money, and to get on in the world, as to be too lazy to do any work well. Of cour.se, it is quite right to drink when voa are thirsty, and to eat when you are hungry, and to play when your work is done, and to be diligent in business when you have business to do. It is only the too much against which you need to be on your guard. It is only against being too hotly set on any object that we warn you. It is only the habit of controlling cravings and desires which are likely to run away with you that we invite and beseech you to form, which we say you must form if you would not injure your health, your I'eputation, your useful- ness. Our counsel to you is : Hold youi-selves well in hand. Do not suffer any appetite of the body, or any am- bition of the mind, to master you. Be masters of yourselves, of all your appetites and of all your de- sires. Sip the water, or the wine, of life, like the three hundred. Lap at it as you go on your way, and keep a good look-out for the enemies that may lurk in it or around it. But do not, like their re- jected comrades, fling yourselves on your knees to it, and diink as if your only business in the world was to get your fill of pleasure, or of gain, and to gratify your appetites as they rise within you. Would you like to have a pattern, an example of what you ought to be and do in order to attain this habit of self-control ? You may find it in Jesus Christ our Lord — find it most of all in his meekness and gentleness. For it is by ' the meekness and the gentleness of Christ,' that St. Paul beseeches us to subdue all fleshly cravings, and to cast down all the ' imaginations ' which exalt themselves against God and against our true life in Him. — Samuel Cox, The Bird's Nest, p. 148. PITCHERS AND LIGHTS Judges vii. 14-23. In the wonderful chapter in Judges which tells the story of Gideon's victory there are so many lessons that we might read it every Sunday for a month, and find new lessons each day. It is only one of these lessons I am going to bring out for you at present. And I will call it the lesson of the pitchers and the lights. It is an old story now. The thing it tells of happened more than three thousand yeai-s ago — long before Elijah's time, before King David's time, a 11 hundred years even before Samson's time. And that was a very sad time for the children of Israel. Moses and Joshua had been dead more than two hundred years. And they had no prophet, or king, or great captain to help them. They were like sheep without a shepherd. It was just then, when they had no king, that the wicked nations of Midian and Amalek said to each other, ' Come, they have no king in Israel, nor king's soldiers, let us go in and seize their land '. And they came — a great army, like locusts in number and cruelty — and filled the whole rich plain of the river Jordan, and spoiled the people of their tents, and their cattle, and their food. The shepherds and farmers fled to the hills. And there, awav in hidden places, which the robbers could not reach, they sowed their wheat and their barley, and fed the flocks they had saved. But the good Lord took pity on His poor Israelites. And he sent an angel to say that He would raise up a captain to fight for them. And then one of the strangest things happened. The man God chose to be then- captain was not a soldier at all, but simply a good, pious farmer, who, since his boyhood, had worked among the wheat-fields of the hills for his father, and had kept love for God in his heart. The Lord chose this man, Gideon, the son of Joash, and said to him, ' Be thou captain under Me in this war '. Thirty thousand people flocked to Gideon, to be soldiers under him, when they heard the news. And then another strange thing took place. The Lord said to Gideon, 'Thu-ty thousand soldiers are too many for the battle which thou must fight'. So twenty thousand were sent home. But the Lord said again : ' Ten thousand also are too many. Bring them down to this brook, and bid every man of them drink.' And when they were there, the most part of them, nine thousand seven hundred of them, went down on their knees, put their lips to the water, and that way drank. But three hundred made a cup of their hands and raised the water to their lips, and in that way drank. Then the Lord said : ' By the three hundred that lapped the water from their hands I will have this battle fought '. So all the rest went back to their hiding-places among the hills. And now took place the strangest thing of all. The Lord commanded Gideon to divide the three hundred into three companies, and give each man a ram's-horn, an earthen pitcher, and a light hidden in the pitcher. He was to go into the battle at mid- night with these. And when every man had got his horn and his pitcher and light, on a certain night Gideon gave the word. And the three companies moved down in silence from the hills to where the tents of Midian and Amalek covered the plain. Silent, unseen, moved the three hundred, nearer and nearer to the sleeping hosts. Then Gideon planted his men all round the camp. Then he blew a great blast on his own horn, and cried, ' The sword of the Lord and of Gideon ! ' Then every man did as his Vv. 14-23. JUDGES VII., IX Vv. 7-15. captain had done, blew a loud blast on his horn and raised the same shout. And then they all broke their pitchei-s and let the lights flash forth. And at the sound of the shouting and of the horns the robber-annv started from its sleep. The soldiers heard the sudden sounds, and, looking out, saw the flashing lights. All round and round the camp they saw lights moving through the darkness ; they heard horns blowing. The air was filled with noises, with the shouts of mightv voices, saying, 'The sword of the Lord and of Gideon ! ' Sudden fear took hold of them. They rushed out of their tents. From tent to tent, over the whole camp, i ushed lorth the terror- stricken soldiers into the darkness, until at last the whole army was in flight. And then Gideon and his men pursued. And then came down from their hid- ing-places on every side other fighters of Israel to help. And there was a great pursuing of the robbers, and some were killed, and the rest were utterly chased out of the land ; and the land was cleared of its foes. That is the story of the wonderful victoi-y which this great hero gained. He went down into the battle with only three hundred men, with onlv trumpets, pitchers, and lights for weapons, and the mighty hosts of IMidian and Amalek, thousands upon thousands, fled before him and were driven from the land. More than a thousand years after, when the story of this victory had come to be a common lesson in the houses and schools of the Jews, it was read in the hear- ing of a little boy named Saul who lived in the once famous city of Tarsus. And it made a great impre.ssion on him, and went deep into his heart. And long years after, when he was an old man, and the Apostle Paul, he remembered it. And once, when he was in the city of Philijipi, and writing a letter to the Corinthians, he put what he had learned from that story into a letter in these words — ' God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasui-e (this treasure of light) in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.' You see the old Apostle has I'emembered all the story — the pitchers, the out-flashing of the lights at night, and the excellent power that gained the vic- tory. Especially he remembered this — it was this that had gone most deeply into his spirit — that the power in all battles for God must be the power of God. Paul is writing of the sufferings which he and his fellow- workeis had to endure. He and they seem no better in the eyes of Paul than earthen pitchere — poor, weak, fragile creatures, that any blow might break, who one day should certainly be broken. But poor and fragile though they be they are vessels carrying a Divine light, a life kindled bv God, and a power which cannot be destroyed, which, even if those who carry it were broken to pieces and lying in the dust, should still shine forth and win battles for God. And just that is the lesson I wish to draw from this old story of Gideon's pitchers. As Paul remem- bers it, and translates it into Christian truth for us, it becomes part of the good news of Christ. It brings the happy assurance to every heart who hears it, that even a child may be a vessel to carry the power of God. Weak people, little people, fragile people — God uses them all — God can fill the weakest and the most fragile with strength for His work. He asks only that the heart shall receive His life. The out- side may be no better than earthenware, but inside there will be an excellent light and power of God. And that is the New Testament picture of all Christians, whether young and feeble, or old and strong. The\ are all, in themselves, but vessels — and vessels neither of gold nor silver, but of clay — poor fragile things, just like earthen pitchers. We should be worthless, only God puts His life into our hearts. We should be uncomely, only God puts His beauty into our life. And we should be utterly feeble, and unable to fight one battle for truth or righteousness, only God puts His Spirit into ours. , And when the power of that comes upon us, we become strong like Gideon. — A. Macleod, The Gentle Heart, p. 257. THE THORN KING 'And vrhen they told it to Jotham, he went and stood in the top of mount Gerizim, and lifted up his voice, and cried, and said unto them, Hearken unto me, ye men of Shechem, that God may hearken unto you. The trees went forth on a time to anoin; a king over them ; and they said unto the olive tree, Reign thou over us. But the olive tree said unto them. Should I leave my fatness, wherewith by me they honour God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees ? And the trees said to the fig tree, Come thou, and reign over us. But the fig tree said unto them. Should I forsake my sweetness, and my good fruit, and go to be promoted over the trees ? Then said the trees unto the vine, Come thou, and reign over us. And the vine said unto them Should I leave my wine, which cheereth God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees ? Then said all the trees unto the bramble, Come thou, and reign over us. And the bramble said unto the trees, If in truth ye anoint me king over you, then come iind put your trust in my shadow ; and if not, let fire come out of the bramble, and devour the cedars of Lebanon. — Judges i.\. 7-15. Many lessons might be drawn from this parable, which has more than a mere literary or historical interest, and which carries its truth for this age no less than for the old and stormy time which gave it birth. Of these lessons three seem to be clearly marked and worthy of our serious thought. The first is the lesson of Contentment in our own Sphere of Service. Gideon was wise and right in his refusal to accept the position of king. The people had the best of kings. Like many jjeople of modern times, they laid their disasters to their form of government, and clamoured for a change when, in fact, the disasters arose from their own want of loyalty to the existing form. God had numerous uses for wise and good men, without making them kings. Gideon had no need to be a king in order to serve his country. He could serve it far better in the position in which God had placed him, and he had the grace to perceive this, and, like the olive tree, to 119 Vv. 7-15. JUDGES IX., XIII Ver. 8. refuse to be torn up from the soil in which he was honouring God and serving men, and commit himself to the freaks of the popular will. Hence he said to the people, ' You will not be without government, though I refuse to be your king. The Lord will rule over you, and each of you can betake himself to serving God in his place, and, by your virtue and loyalty to Him, make the land prosperous and happy.' Jotham's parable carried the same thought The good trees perceived that ruling meant uprooting. They were not disposed to be torn up from the soil where their deep rooting enabled them to render such excellent service in order to go and ' wave about over the trees,' for such is the literal meaning of the words ' to be promoted over '. And both Gideon's words and the words of Jotham state a great, an eternal truth, that position carries with it success and useful- ness only as it is firmly rooted in obedience to God. The only sure warrant of success which any man in any place has, is — ' God put me here '. And so many positions become altars on which their occupants are sacrificed, because their occupants are bramble-men, there by their own self-seeking, and for the sake of the po.sition, and not to do the will of God. Fire comes out of the coveted place and destroys the bramble-man as it did Abimelech. The thing which every man ought first to desire in this world is usefulness. Service is a good man's law of life ; and the only authority and prominence which ai'e worth having at all are won by a man's de- monstrating his power for superior usefulness. Hence our Lord says, ' He that will be chief among you let him be yom- servant '. The mastery which He him- self exercises over the lives of men, lies in the fact that He is the world's supreme benefactor. ' He took on Him the form of a servant, therefore God hath highly exalted Him and hath given Him a name which is above every name.' There ai'e high places which must be filled, and God has the right men to put into them; but one of the gi-eatest and most common mistakes is the thought that usefulness is dependent on position ; whereas the exact reverse is the case — tliat true position is dependent on useful- ness. Therefore the parable rebukes the almost universal restlessness and craving for a higher and more com- manding place. The good trees wisely saw that in the quiet bringing forth of their oil and wine and fruit, in the silent ministry of their shadow to the sun-stricken and weary, they were doing good service to God and man, and they were content with this. It was the worthless thorn-bush which was eager to leave its place and accept the appearance of honour. But let us now turn to the second lesson of the fable — The Sin of Refusing God's Appointment to a Higher Place. Jotham's story turned upon the choice of a bad king by bad men. The olive and the vine were right in refusing to leave their places at the call of the foolish trees and in order to serve their own selfish prida But his words had no bear- ing upon a Divinely established monarchy, such as came later. This fable is not, as some have ex- plained, an inspired utterance against monarchy in general. There came a time when God appointed a king, and then it was not for Saul nor for David to plead their different callings as excuses for refusing His appointment. Whatever sweetness or iraitful- ness or power of shelter lay in them must be put at the service of Israel. Something is and must be king over each of us. Something will say ' must 'to us : and remember that the alternative of the rule of the best is the rule of sting and fire. Men were made for no rule worse than God's, and whatever else usurps the throne carries disaster within it. There is a too common sentiment that one may refuse the absolute law of God as embodied in the Gospel of Christ, and yet enjoy all the blessings of His sovereignty, along with whatever he may pick and choose out of the world. Jotham's bramble tells us better than that: 'If in truth ye anoint me king over you, then come and put your trust in my shadow '. When you choose a ruler you choose an absolute ruler. ' To whom ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are to whom ye obey, whether of sin unto death or of obedience unto righteousness.' And what you choose to obey you must also choose to trust. You cannot choose the devil for master and God for protector. If the bramble is king, you must find shelter in the shadow of the bramble. If the bramble is fit to rule you, he ought to be fit to defend and comfort you ; and if you take the bramble at all, you must take him entire — thorns, fire, and all. The moral choice of men is not only between two masters, but between two econoynies, and the economy goes with the master. — Makvin R. Vincent, Sermons to Young Persons, p. 1. CHRISTMAS EVE 'Teach us what we shall do unto the child that shall be bom.' — Judges xiii. 8. That is a kind thing to ask, is it not ? ' What shall we do to the child that shall be born?' It would never do to put off' thinking about him, and planning for him, and getting things ready for him, until he had come. It would be too late then — would look as if he was not wanted — wasn't welcome — and he might go away again, and never, never come back. So if he was really wanted and was really welcome, dear little fellow, there was only one way of showing it, and that was by having everything ready for him — something to eat, and something to wear, and a big, big heart to love him. You ai-e so old now, you little children are, and you have had so many things to think about since^ and laugh over and cry over, that I daresay you have quite forgot about that beautiful morning when you first lifted the latch and came in. You rather liked the look of things then, didn't you ? I am sure you did, for you just took off your wings and made up 120 Ver. 8. JUDGES Xlll Ver. 8. your mind to stay, as you have remained ever since) which is very good of you ! Wliat was it that pleased you then ? I know it was to lind that father and mother had been thinking about you before you Hfted the latch and came in, and when you said, ' Good morning,' they said, ' Good morning ' too ; and it was a good morning, for their love was waiting for you, aired and waimied, and quite ready. They loved you, you see, before you loved them ; they got the start, for God had taught them what to do to the child that should be born. But now, what about Jesus ? Christmas Day will soon be here, and you will be all singing, ' Unto us a child is born ' ; ' Glory to the new-born King '. That will be nice — very, very nice — but mustn't we do more than that ? Mustn't we get ready for His com- ing? It would never do for Jesus to come and then find that we hadn't been expecting Him, hadn't been waiting for Him, hadn't been getting things ready for Him. That would look as if we really didn't want Him, and He might go away again ; and then we would be without Jesus, and that is the saddest thing in all the world — to be without Jesus. So what shall we do for the child that shall be boi-n ? There's one thing we can do — yes, the tiniest among you can do it. We can get a little room ready for Him. Do you know where that room is ? Ah, there is only one room that Jesus will stay in, and that room is in your heart. Yes, my dear little one, if you make rooai in your heart for Jesus He will come and stay there. But He won't stay anywhere else. He visits other places, but He only stays in the heart that makes room for Him. So get ready a place for the child that shall be born. Put out of the heart everything He would not like to see — bad thoughts, naughty tempers, unkind words, and everything that grumbles or grudges. If He sees these there He will see at once that He isn't wanted, and He won't come in. So put all that away ; get the heart ready, bring in kindness and sweet thoughts and love — -oh, there must be love — big love, ti'ue love, wai-m, warm love for Him. You wouldn't have stayed if there hadn't been love in the house before you, and no more can He So get the heart ready for the child that shall be born, and let it be made warm and bright and pleasant with love. And then pray — pray for Him to come, tell Him there is room in your heart for Him. Pray to Him, pray to Him to come into your heart, for when He hears you praying for Him He knows He is welcome, and He will come. Don't leave Jesus out in the cold ; get your hearts ready for the child that shall be born. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Pulpit, p. 264. 121 RUTH RUTH AND NAOMI ' Whither thou goest I will go.' — Ruth i. i6. I THINK that these words express the relationship that ought to exist between the young and the old. The one who uttered these words was named ' Ruth,' which translated probably means ' Rose ' — a beautiful name, borne, in this case, by a woman of beautiful character. One thing that was very beautiful about Ruth was that — I. She was very closely attached to her aged mother-in-law who had really become to her a mother, through her kindness. A very strong love seemed to unite the,se two together. This was all the more striking, because they did not belong to the same rate. Naomi was a Jewess, Ruth was a Moabitess. The sons of Naomi had married two daughters of Moab ; and one might have expected that some sor- row would have resulted from that. Not only did they belong to two different races, at a time when it was not lawful for a Jew to marry a Moabitess ; but more than that, though the Moabites were the de- scendants of Lot — Abraham's nephew — they had gone back to idolatry ; it was, therefore, very wrong for a worshipper of the true God to marry an idolatress. But, notwithstanding all this, Naomi and her daughter-in-law Ruth, and, indeed, herother daughter- in-law Orpah, loved each other dearly. They had lived long enough together to know and to love each other. Ruth, therefore, felt now that if there was any one on the face of the earth to whom she ought to cling, that one was Naomi ; and all the more be- cause Naomi was getting old, and because she and Ruth had passed through the same sorrows. Naomi had lost her husband ; Ruth, too, had lost hers ; who was also Naomi's son. They had wept together : they knew what it was to enter into each other's griefs. Now there is nothing that brings people to- gether like that which they have experienced in com- mon. One great thing to bring little children to- gether is a common joy — a joy in which all can shai-e. That is one reason why play should be encouraged ; it is such a uniting force. When half a dozen chil- dren join in the same game, and share the same joy, they are drawn to each other. Of course, there are some children who can be disagreeable anywhere, even in play ; but happily they are exceptions, and I am not speaking about them. As a rule, if a child never likes play, he is never very loving toward other children ; but if he likes play, he is drawn into sym- pathy with them, just because they have something in common. Now, if that be true of joy, it is still more true of sorrow, though, I have no doubt, you do not know that yet. There is nothing that brings us together like a common sorrow. There are, perhaps, some little orphans who know what it means. Some brothers and sisters here this morning have possibly lost father or mother, or both. They never knew how much they loved one another till they shared that bitter grief Till they wept together over the same loss, they never thought of the love they had for each other ; and that loss has only brought them closer to each other. It was just so with Ruth and Naomi. They had had the same sorrow, the same losses, and so they had been drawn very closely to- gether. But now Naomi wanted to go back to her own country. That is one of the strongest attractions we have, after all. You will never learn how much you love England till you get out of it. You never know with what affection you think of your own people till you get away from them. Naomi had been away from Bethlehem and the people she loved for ten years. Now that she had lost her noble husband and her brave sons, she longed to see Bethlehem once more ! She wanted to see some of the old friends she knew in hapjner days. Many, she knew, she would never see again. Death makes a great many gaps in ten yeare. There were many vacant chairs and darkened homes in Bethlehem. Well, Naomi longed to see other widowed and childless mothers. She would .sympathise with her old friends in their sorrow, and they with her in her grief And she would gladly see others who would be sure to give her a welcome hack to the dear old place. Thus, no doubt, the aged Naomi thought, and I suspect that she said as much to Ruth and Orpah ; she therefore resolved to return. Now, this was Ruth's opportunity. She felt that she could not let her go alone ; she had always been so kind and loving — a second mother — to her, and in their great sorrows they had understood one another so thoroughly. Besides, she could never look at Naomi without thinking of her dear husband. She was his mother, and he was, no doubt, the good man he was largely through his mother's example. Thus Ruth felt that, whatever might happen, she must cling to Naomi. Orpah, indeed, felt the same, only that Naomi succeeded in persuading Orpah to return. I have not a word to say against Orpah ; she was a loving genial woman, only Ruth was more determined than she was. Rutt persisted in saying, ' Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee : for whither thou goest, I will go '. Now, all this is very charming, because Ruth could 122 Ver. 16. RUTH I Ver. 16. have got on far better than her mother-in-law could. Naomi was getting old, Ruth was young. Kuth, too, was among her people, and, probably, suiTounded by i'riends, yet she could not think of letting Naomi go alone, and so she went with her. But then there is another fact stated- — II. Ruth accepted Naomi as her Guide. — ' Where thou goest, I will go.' In other words, ' I trust in your judgment. If you want to go back to your own country, I know it must be right. I have never found you wrong in your judgment; you have had more experience than I, and are far wiser than I am. One thing I know, and that is, I cannot leave you. Where you go I will go'. Now that is just the language of a child. Ruth was not a child, but she was a child as compared with Naomi, and so she gave the preference to one older and more experienced than herself We always think well of those who pay deference to their seniors, especially if these are parents or guardians or teachers. Ruth did not hold to her preferences and opinions doggedly when she knew that Naomi wanted to return to her own country and kindred. Now I wish you children would just learn that one lesson. Be more ready than you are to follow the leading of those who are older than you. Those who hava watched, and are watching over you, are, as a rule, wiser than you are ; and, if you cannot find a reason for everything they do, you should be ready to believe that your father would not be likely to do that, or your mother this, unless they had some reason for it. Hence it is the duty of the child to follow. Thus Ruth followed Naomi because she knew she was a godly woman ; and to imitate the godly is always safe. They leave us an example that we should follow them. Christ, above all, has left us an example that we should follow His steps ; but so also, in a measure, does every saint. Ai'e there children here who have godly fathers and mothers ? Moses delighted to speak of the true God by the name of ' My father's God '. That is what we parents long for more than anything — ^that our children should worship our God ; and that somehow each should associate that God with us, and say, ' I do not wish to worship another than my father's or my mother's God '. Oh, what a help it is to have a father or mother, or still better both, worshipping the true God ! — David Davies, Talks with Men, Women and Children (6th Series), p. 160 123 I SAMUEL THE CHILD OF PRAYER I Samuel i.-iii. The Bible reminds me of a spring on a mountain side. That fountain has been flowing for thousands and thousands of years. It is as old as the old grey rocks in whose cool shade it wells up. Yet the water is always fresh, always flowing. So the Bible histories, though written thousands of years ago, never seem to grow old. Often as we have heard or read them, we can always find in them something new. Almost every child who knows any Bible stories knows the story of the Child Samuel, whom the Lord called to be a prophet when he was but a little boy, and who grew up to be one of the wisest and best men who have ever lived. You know the story, do you not ? Well, let us have a talk about it Per- haps we shall find out some things you have not thought of before. I. The fiist thing we ai'e told concerning Samuel is that he was the Child of Prayer. His mother prayed that she might liave a son, and God heard her prayer. Whoever might doubt whether God hears prayer, Samuel's parents could never doubt it. Samuel himself could never doubt it. His very name signifies, in Hebrew, ' Heard of God,' that is, given by God in answer to prayer. Among the ancient Hebrews it was counted a great calamity for married people to have no children. People thought it showed that God was displeased. Some think this was because every Jewish woman hoped she might become the mother of the Messiah, the promised Saviour. This, however, is not very likely. A simpler explanation is that as each family had its own portion of land to till, those families were best off" which had a goodly number of strong, in- dustrious sons to help the father in tilling the ground and tending the flock ; and of active, dutiful daughters to share the housework with their mother. Those who had no children must hire sei'vants or buy slaves to do their work. Another reason was that at any time all the men of suitable age might be called to fight in defence of their country and homes ; and it was counted a great honour for a father to have many brave sons whom he could lead or send to battle. You remember that Jesse, David's father, had eight sons, three of whom were in Saul's army. So when Hannah and her husband Elkanah had been man-ied a good many years, and she had no child, they were deeply grieved and disappointed. More troubled, perhaps, Hannah was than she ought to have been ; for when she went with her husband to woi-ship in the Tabernacle at Shiloh, and ought ac- cording to the law to have feasted upon the thank- offering, praising God for His goodnes'^, ' she wept, and did not eat '. This one trouble swallowed up all her joy. But at any rate she did the best and wisest thing with her trouble, — what we should do with every trouble, gi-eat or small, in order that we may either be delivered from it, or have patience and courage given to bear it. She took it to God in prayer. ' She was in bitterness of soul, and wept sore, and she vowed a vow, and said, O Lord of hosts ! if Thou wilt indeed look upon the affliction of Thine handmaid, and remember me, and not forget Thine handmaid, but wilt give unto Thine handmaid a man child, then I will give him unto the Lord all the days of his life.' No ear but God's could hear her prayer. ' She spake in her heart ; only her lips moved, but her voice was not heard.' But so earnest was she — her tears rolling down, and her frame trembling as her lips moved silently — that Eli the high priest was afraid she had been drinking too much of the wine of the sacrifice. ' And Hannah answered and said, No, my lord ; I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit ; I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but have poured out ray soul before the Lord.' This is prayer indeed — pouring out the soul he- fore the Lord ! The most beautiful form of prayer would have been of no use just then to Hannah. Some forms of prayer are very excellent, and veiy useful in their way and place. If you put your heart and soul into a form of prayer, that is real prayer. If you are using your own words, but do not really mean what you say, that is not real prayer, but mere mockery. But after all, there is no prayer like that which comes fresh from the heart, even if we do not know how rightly to put it into words. The most remarkable prayers recorded in Scripture — prayers which received remai'kable and distinct answers — ^vere of this sort ; asking God for what was wanted, with full expectation that if it were right and wise He would grant it. We must never forget that condition — if it he right and wise : in other words, if it be according to God's will. We must not even wish that God would grant any request which He sees to be wrong or foolish. I doubt not God had put it into Hanneih's heart to be thus specially earnest, because He meant to grant her prayer. So when her little son was bom, she called him Samuel — ' Heard of God '. II. The next remarkable thing in Samuel's historj is, that he was Given to the Service of Qod while yet a little child. As he was of the tribe of Levi, he would have been bound to take his turn in the public service of God's house, helping the priests in their 124 1 SAMUEL I.-III sacred ministry, when he grew up.' But his mother could not be content for him to wait until then. She wished God's house to be Samuel's home from his early childhood, so that when he grew up he might not be able to remember the time when he did not serve God. God's house at that time was the Taber- nacle. The Temple was not built till about a hun- dred years afterwards. As soon as little Samuel was able to do without his mother's daily care — which might be when he was three years old — she brought him to the high priest Eli, at Shiloh, where the Tabernacle was. Elkanah, Sanmel's father, brought with him a liberal present — three bullocks, a bushel of flour, and a goat-skin full of wine. Then they brought the child to Eli, and Hannah said, ' Oh, my lord, I am the woman that stood by thee here, praying unto the Lord. For this child I prayed ; and the Lord hath given me my petition which I asked of Him : therefore also I have lent him to the Lord ; as long as he liveth he shall be lent to the Lord.' So ' Samuel ministered before the Lord, being a child, girded with a linen ephod '. That is, he was dressed like a little priest ; and learned by degrees to fulfil such simple duties as Eli thought suitable to his age — lighting and trimming the lamps, opening and closing the doors, and the like. ' Moreover his mother made him a little coat, and brought it to him from year to yeai; when she came up with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice. . '. . And the child Samuel grew before the Lord.' Samuel could not have been given to God's service in this particular way had his father not belonged to the tribe of LevL None but Aaron's family could be priests, and none but Levites could help the priests in their holy ministry. But now that the Gospel has come in place of the old Jewish I^w, the earthly temple, priests, and sacrifices are all done away, because Christ has offered the One Real Sacri- fice, and has entered as our Priest into heaven. Christian ministers, therefore, are not priests, but teachers. All true Christians are called ' priests ' in the New Testament (1 Pet. ii. 9 ; Rev. v. 9, 10)— that is, all are called to be alike holy, alike near to God, and to serve Him continually ; some in the ministry of the Gospel, or other special kinds of use- fulness, but all in daily living to His glory. ' Whether, therefore, ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.' The true Temple is heaven, where Jesus dwells, and God's glory is manifested. There all who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb, will have a place, as it is written, ' Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple ; and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them.' . . . ' And His servants shall serve Him ; and thev shall see His face ' (1 Cor. x. 31 ; Rev. vii. 14, 15; XXII. 3, 4). III. The next great event in Samuel's history is just what might be expected : God called Samuel to ' See the pedigree of Samuel in 1 Chronicles vi. 33-38, where his name is spelt (as in Hebrew) Shemuel. His service. His parents gave him to the Lord, and the Lord accepted their gift He did more. As if a poor man should offer to a king a precious stone which he has found on the seashore ; and the king, instead of merely putting it among his common treasures, should have it carefully polished and set in his crown : so God put honour on the child of Elkanah and Hannah, such as they never dreamed of. They had thought only of giving their boy to a humble, quiet life of service in the Tabernacle, where, when he should grow up, he would take his place among his brother Levites. God called him to such service as very few men in the whole history of the world have been honoured to render ; and gave him a name side by side with that of Moses, among the greatest of His prophets (Jer. xv. 2 ; Ps. xcix. 6) . Qod called Samuel Early. — The Scripture does not tell us how old he was when God spoke to him, and gave him his sad and solemn message to good old Eli. The Jewish historian Josephus says he was twelve yeare old — ;iust the age, you remember, at which Our Saviour paid His first visit to the Temple. This was very young to be a Prophet. Moses had to wait till he was eighty years old before God saw fit to send him to deliver Israel. The Lord Jesus gave a wonderful example of patience and humility, by living quietly at home till he was thuty years old — the age at which Joseph was promoted to rule over Egypt, and David to be king over Israel. But God had wise reasons for beginning to employ Samuel as His prophet while yet a child. Perhaps one reason was to humble the pride of such ungodly priests as Eli's wicked sons ; and another, to show that it is not human wisdom, but God's Spirit, that makes a prophet. No doubt God gave him at first short and simple messages, like that to Eli — though that was one of the most sorrowful he had to deliver — and trained him by degrees for the great work of his life. So ' Samuel grew, and the Lord was with him, and did let none of his words fall to the ground. And all Israel, from Dan even to Beersheba, knew that Samuel was established to be a prophet of the Lord.' How his parents must have wondered when they heard this ! The boy-prophet found himself looked up to, and his counsel sought by the oldest, wisest, bravest men in the land. Great humility was needed to bear such honour meekly ; to feel that he was but God's servant and messenger, and not to grow vain, conceited and self-glorious. As young plants need shade, and wither if the scorching sun shines full on them, so it is commonly dangerous for young persons to come out early into the glare of public notice. But God, who called Samuel to this high office, fitted him for it, you may be sure, by giving him true humility ; for it is written that ' God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble '. Qod called Samuel very Gently and Patiently. — Not in a voice of thunder, like that which made even Moses tremble, when the Israelites said, ' Let not God speak to us, lest we die'. But in a gentle, kind, father-like tone, which the boy mistook for the voice 125 Vv. 27, 28. 1 SAMUEL I Ver. 28. of good, kind old Eli. Not a voice from heaven like that which Abraham heard, but close beside his bed. This is what is meant when it is said, 'the Lord came and stood and called as at other times, Samuel, Samuel ! ' It sounded like some one quite close, speaking softly. How patiently, too, these calls were repeated ! Four times the Lord called him, never chiding him for his mistakes ; till at last, when Samuel knew it was the Lord, he did not feel frightened, but was ready to say, 'Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth '. Even thus gently, patiently, repeatedly, does God call you to give your heart to Him. By how many voices ! By the voices of parents, teachers, ministers. By the lessons of His providence. By the promises, the precepts, the examples, the warnings of His word. By the voice of His Spirit, who says, ' To-day, if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts ! ' ' Be- hold, now is the accepted time : behold, now is the day of salvation.' — E. R. Condee, Drops and Rocks, p. 103. THE SERMON * For this child I prayed ; and the Lord hath given me my petition v^hich I asked of him : therefore also I have lent him to the Lord ; as long as he liveth he shall be lent to the Lord.' — i Samuel i. 27, 28. I. The Child Samuel was Asked of the Lord. — It is nowadays common to name babes after their kinsfolks, parents, grandparents, or other relatives. But at first sons and daughters got names from some circumstance attending their birth, or some hope re- garding their future lives. The Bible gives us many examples of this. Thus, Moses, and John, and Jesus, and Samuel, are all names with a meaning, and intended to instruct. Moses means outdrawn ; and this name was given to the child of Amram and Jochebed by Pharaoh's daughter, for she said, ' I have drawn him out of the water.' John is a very solemn and teaching name. It means Jehovah- given. As applied to the child of Zacharias, it said that this babe was a special gift from God to his parents and to the Church, the messenger sent before the face of his Son to prepare his ways. You all know the reason assigned by the angel for the name Jesus being given to the child pron)ised to Mar}' : ' He shall save His people from their sins,' and there- fore He is called Jehovah-his-help — Jehovah-saving. Hannah had a reason, too, for the name she gave her child. She said, ' I have asked him of the Lord,' and called him Samuel ; that is, ' heard of God '. II. The Child Samuel was Lent to the Lord. — Take notice of the expression employed by Hannah in the text. She says, ' I have lent him to the Lord '. Eli, in the same style, speaks (il 20) of Samuel as a ' loan lent to the Lord '. In her prayer Hannah uses also the word ' give '. But she gave as a loan for life. Then it would appear she expected to get him back again. And so she has, in a better world. Now in a very important sense every child of be- lieving parents is lent to the Lord. There was a sign of this formerly in the ordinance of circumcision ; and now we have a like sign in the ordinance of baptism. When a parent brings his infant to be baptised, he says, I give my child to God ; I own his claim, and feel that my child is not mine, so much as God's : I will therefore strive to bring him up for God's service. ^Vhen you were baptised you were lent in this way to God. Now, I have to ask you, will you take back the loan ? or will you confirm it, and count yourselves not your own, but Christ's. There was more than this, however, meant in Hannah's lending. Her other children, bom after Samuel, were all dedicated. But Samuel was given to the public ministry. He was to be brought up as a Nazarite ; and was to be, so to say, left at God's disposal for service in the way God should call him to do. We know that he became a great prophet and judge, and performed also priestly acts. In accord- ance with her vow, Hannah brought him when he was only three years old, and left him at the Tabernacle with Eli. She came to see him after that, year by year, but she did not take him home. He continued with the high priest, and ministered in his presence. He was a little Levite servant to Eli, and to God. Put the two heads of discourse together and re- mark : — 1. That we can give to God only what we fii-st receive from Him. David felt this when he said of the contributions for building the Temple, ' Of Thine own have we given Thee, and Thine is all this store '. And it is easy to see that it must be so. We have nothing of oui-selves. Do we give God service ? — He strengthened us for it. Do we give him money ? — He enabled us to get it. Do we give him love ? — He taught us to cherish it 2. We ought to give to God again of all we receive from Him. Our very condition as creatures proves this, and there is express law for it. He gave us life, and we should live to Him. He gave us speech, and we should jiraise Him. He gave us hearts, and we should love Him. He gives us pos.sessions, and we should remember His word, ' Honour the Lord with thy substance, and with the first fruits of all thine increase '. He made us, and sent His Son to save us, and we should give him ourselves. 3. When we ask earthly good, it should be with the view of serving Him. If I ask health, or riches, or long life, it should not be merely to enjoy these things, but to use them for God's glory. 4. When God borrows, it is for our advantage. He does not need our gifts, but He never forgets them. He rewards gloriously. — J. Edmond, The Children's Church, p. 435. LENT TO THE LORD ' I have lent him to the Lord ; as long as he liveth he shall be lent to the Lord.' — i Samuel 1. 28. Picture out scene. [A hill surrounded by hills, as though in a cup, on it the old age-worn Tabernacle. Little party, man, woman, boy, bullock with flour and wine, approaches. Old man, dim-eyed, near Taber- nacle. The interview. Hannah's story. The loan.] 126 Ver. 9. 1 SAMUEL II Ver. 9. May remind us of another scene. [Font in church — ciergvinan — parents and child — cf. Baptismal Service, ' We receive this child,' etc.] So we, lent to Christ, and that when we were too small to say whether we should like to be lent or not I Think : — ■ I. The Lending, and Why it was Right. 1. As to parents. A loan a <^ood loan when it brings good interest. [Illustration. — jNIoney in clothing club or savings bank.] When we lend to God He always gives good interest, cf. 1 Samuel ii. 20, 'Three sons and two daughters ' ' for the loan that is lent to the Lord '. So Hannah lends God one child and gets five instead I 500 per cent interest ! 2. .4s to child. It was a good thing for the boy. [Illustration. — Suppose, when grown up, you were told that you might have had a good place in the Queen's household — • Queen quite willing, only mother could not decide for you. What say !] Here mother did decide for the boy, and he never blamed her, for he could not have had a better place. Taught there better than anywhere else, and servant to the best of all masters. When our parents, sponsors, etc., made promise for us — lent us to Christ — what better thing could thev have done for us ! what better master could we have than Christ, in whose service we have been en- rolled ! II. After the Lending. 1. How the child got on. (1) Taught by the high priest — always ready to help him. (2) His work always about the Tabernacle. And when we are lent to God, who is our High Priest, always ready to teach and help us ? A taber- nacle, too, for us to look after. What ? [' Know ye not that your bodies are temples of the Holy Ghost ? ' ' Ye are the temple of God.'] 1. What the mother did. (1) Looked after her loan. 'Year by year' came up to Tabernacle. (2) Gave him a gift, yearly — a little priestly robe — to remind him of his duties, his service. (3) No doubt prayed for him. So our parents, having lent us, should look after us — remind us of our duties to the Master. Pray and work that we niav be faithful servants. [Should parents be present, special appeal may be made to them.] And the children — lent to the Lord. Are you taking Samuel as your model ? — working for the Master — looking after Tabernacle — keeping near the High Priest ? — C. A. Goodhart, Hints and Outlines for Children's Services, p. 141. SLIPPERY WAYS ' He will keep the feet of His saints.'— i Samcel ii. g. Just a little word from a little text about a great matter ! God promises to keep the feet of His saints. Who are saints ? They are those who love God and try to please Him. We often hear about the old saints ; we don't hear much about the young ones. But that is only a way people have of talking. There are young saints as well as old ojies, and this text was spoken about a very young one indeed — about Samuel when he was a very little boy ; so this great promise God makes is for you, my little ones, as well as for older folk. But why should God need to keep your feet ? Ah, if you were in the Highlands of Scotland, or the Alps, or among mountains anywhere, you wouldn't be long in finding what a kind, precious promise this is. There a man's life has often to depend on the strength and firmness of his foot. If his foot gave way for an instant — if it trembled— if a sudden pain struck through it^ — the man would be dashed in pieces down the precipice. So God promises to keep the feet of those that trust Him when they are walking in dangerous places, or when snares and pitfalls are about them, and to guide and help them. A friend of mine took his holiday lately in the hill country, among the lakes, in the North of England. He had a companion with him, a little, quiet, wiry, active fellow — and one day the two thought they would cross the hills by a narrow footpath which was rarely used. So up they clambered in the bracing air, higher and higher still, till the forests beneath looked like dark tufts of moss, and the lakes like silver shields. All around them were only the bare rocks, grim and silent and black. So they got to the top of Redscree, and began to descend on the other side, and the way was very steep, and got steeper and steeper at each step, till, whenever the ground was the least bit broken, they couldn't tell whether it was a precipice that was beyond, or only a ' drop ' of a few feet — and of course they had to move along very cautiously. It was well they did so, for, as they were letting themselves down bit by bit, holding on by hands and feet to the face of the rock, my friend suddenly saw a precipice right beneath him — and he couldn't go back ! What to do he did not know. ' Keep steady ! ' said his companion — the active, cool little fellow — ' keep steady, and let me go down to the edge below you.' So down he crept to the feet of my friend, and then — crawling along — he felt all the stones with his hand and rolled away those that were loose, and planted my friend's feet on a firm place — and even held them, too, where the ground was not very secure ; and so the two got past that point — got past to learn, when they had reached the valley, that only three weeks before a man had gone over that very precipice and been killed. Maybe some day you will be in a dangerous place like that ; pray God He may then keep your feet ! But whether your feet are ever in a dangerous place like that among mountains or not, your spirit is certain sometimes to be in dangers just as great as you go about in the world. You will have tempta- tions; God alone can keep your feet while these are around. And the worst temptation of all will be, when you know a thing is wrong and yet want to do 127 Ver. 18. 1 SAMUEL II Ver. 18. it That's a slippery place — very slippery and very dangerous — and you can't help yourself then, for you want to do wrong, though you know it is wi'ong. Oh, cry to the good Lord in that time. He will keep your feet — and none but He can keep you then. And sometimes when you are doing right, you will find yourself in dangerous ways too — for the path of duty is always an upward one, upward among rocks. But then — be sure of it — God will keep your feet, for vou are on the right way. He doesn't promise to keep your feet if you go on wi-ong ways, for then He isn't with you — -you don't want Him. But when you are on right ways, doing right things, never fear. He will keep you, for He will be with you. Trust Him and take Him with you wherever you go, for those that trust and love Him are His saintly ones, and He will keep the feet of His saints. — J. Reid HowATT, The Children's Angel, p. 147. THE CHILD MINISTER ' Samuel ministered before the Lord, being a child, girded with a linen ephod.' — i Samuel ii. i8. The first thing I want you to notice about Samuel is this — that, like most good men, he had the best thing that any little child can find when firet it comes into the world — a praying mother. When I was a boy there was a very favourite story of mine about a negro who sat one day on the deck of a steamer, waiting to be sold. He was very wretched, sitting there with his face buried in his hands, when a stranger came up and asked him what was the matter. ' Me gwine to be sold, niassa, ' said the poor negro. ' What for ? ' asked the stranger. ' Well, you see, me disobey orders. Me pray too loud, and my massa gwine to sell me. He let me pray easy, but when me gets happy me begin to holler, and then me know nothing about ordei's or anything else. ' The stranger was struck with the negro's appearance, and as the master came up just then he said, ' What will you take for your negro ? ' The price was a hundred and fifty pounds. He was healthy, the master said, and the best hand on the estate. But he got religious, and used to pray so loud that the master had resolved to get rid of him. Now the stranger thought that it would be a very good thing if he could get a good negro to pray for him and for his family, so he bought him. ' Has he a wife and family ? ' the stranger asked. ' Yes,' said the old master, ' a wife and three children, and I will sell them for a hundred and fifty more.' The stranger paid the three hundred pounds, and then going up to the negro, he said to him, ' Well Moses, I've bought you '. ' Oh, hab you, massa ? ' and the poor negro looked very, very sad. He was thinking of his wife and children. ' Yes, and your wife and children too,' said the stranger. ' I31ess God for that ! ' cried Moses. 'And look here,' said the gentleman, ' you may pray as much and as long and as loud as you like, only whenever you pray vou must pray for me and for my wife and my children.' ' Why, bless the Lord,' cried Moses, ' me hab all kind o' commodation, like Joseph in Egypt.' Twelve months had gone by, when one day his old master came in to see him. He found Moses measuring corn and looking very happy. ' I want to buy Moses back again,' he said, ' I can't get on without him ; everything is going wrong, and I've been a miserable man '. ' No,' said his master, ' I'm not going to sell Moses to any- body, but I shall give him his liberty, and let him work for me if he will as a free man, for since he has been here, I and my wife and my children have found the Saviour, and everything has prospered wonder- fully. I owe more than I can ever tell to praying Moses.' ' Oh, massa,' cried Moses, with tears in his eyes, ' me always prays for you too, sare. Me put the old massa and the new one both together.' Now if a man would give three hundred pounds for a praying slave, who can tell the worth of a praying mother ? Next to the love of Jesus in our own hearts, the best thing in the world is this — a mother who prays for us. I have heard people say sometimes of a boy who was bom heir to a large estate, or to very much money, ' Ah, he's a lucky fellow — he is born with a silver spoon in his mouth '. But very often it was the most unlucky thing that could happen. This is the best fortune that any child can have — the heritage of a mother's prayers. First, let us think about The Child Minister. — Samuel ministered before the Lord, being a child. No doubt Eli saw that the child was called of God. But even then he must have been a very kind and a very wise old man to let this little fellow come to help him in the house of the Lord when he was so young. Most people would have .said, ' What is the good of a little lad like that ? What help can he be ? He is not strong enough or big enough or wise enough to do anything. Let him stay at home, and let his mother take care of him till he is grown up. Then he will be of some good. But this child, he is too little to know anything about it.' I think this story is put in the Bible to teach us that it is very foolish and very wrong to talk in this way. The child Samuel ministered unto the Lord, and so can you. Your little hands can serve Him, and your young hearts can love Him. Let nobody say you are too young. Jesus said something very different from that. He said, ' Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven '. And at another time Jesus said, ' I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes. Even so. Father, for so it seemed good in Thy sight.' So you .see, Jesus would have you to love Him now and serve Him now. He would not have you wait till you are grown up. He wants children to minister to Him. Samuel,, though a child, was not too young to love Jesu,s. ' But what could this little child minister do ? ' you ask. ' It was all very well for him to be with the old man Eli, learning good lessons, and hearing God's word, but of couree He could not do anything.' Oh, 128 Ver. 18. 1 SAMUEL II Ver. 19. but he could. He did many things that were helpful, as we shall see by and by. Little folks can do very many things. To begin with, nobody doubts that children can do much harm. People know that Little Things Can do Much Good. — Those o' you who keep your eyes o])eii — and I hope you all do — must have seen at the railway stations and at other places a picture of a lion in a net, and a little mouse gnawing at the rojie. And this is the story that it represents. A lion who was the great king of the forest had somehow got into a net — I don't know how, but so it was. All the animals when they heard of it came to his majesty's help. The elephant came and walked round and round as majestically as it could, and looked very- sad. The bear came and danced all about. The tiger came and roared very loudly indeed. But all that did noc bring the king out of his trouble. Then came the hyaenas and jackils and wolves, and they shook their heads very wisely, and said if only this were done, and that. But as no one could possibly do what they talked about, that didn't help very much. So it seemed that the great king of the forest must die thus miserably in a net. Then as the lion was sadly bemoaning his fate there came a little mouse, and said that if he might make so bold he thought he could set his majesty at liberty. It was very absurd in such a little thing to try and do what the elephant and the great animals could not do. But the lion thought there could be no harm in his trying. So he crept up to the rope and began to gnaw at it. Strand after strand of the rope was bitten through by the sharjj little teeth. It was a long and wearisome task, but the little teeth worked on. At last the rope was loosed, and when once it gave way it was an easy thing for the lion to get out, and the king of the forest was set at liberty by a little mouse. Such good little things can do. I must say a word about another thing. 'Samuel ministered unto the Lord, being a child, Girded With a Linen Ephod.' The linen ephod was the dress that the priest wore. You may read of it in the twenty- eighth chapter of Exodus and the sixth verse. Though he was only a child, yet it would not do for Samuel to appear before the Lord without the proper robe. Not in his own robes, but in the robes that were appointed and commanded of God. And so, I think, God teaches us that we cannot minister to him in our own strength or our own goodness. We must get the right robe, and that is the robe washed and made white in the blood of Jesus. We must get His Spirit into our hearts. When He has forgiven us our sins and washed them all away, and when He has clothed us with His love and gentleness and truth and wisdom and courage and goodness, then we are beautiful in His sight. The ephod was to be made of gold, of purple, of blue, of scarlet, and of fine twined linen. We must come to Jesus for the robe firet, the golden love and all the virtues, and the cleansing blood. Before any of us can minister unto the Lord we must have the right robe. And then, lastly, we are told that his mother made him A Little Coat. — She was a wise mother, and made his coat to fit him. Boys and girls, don't any of you think that because you are going to minister to the Lord, you must give up being children, and must be men and women. Many people think that minister- ing children must never have little coats. They make great stiff solemn coats, much too long and too heavy and too clum.sy for little wearere. The blessed Lord would have you minister to Him, and wear the linen ephod. But you are to wear the little coat too. Be simple and happy and merry, like children ; and wear your little coats even though you minister unto the lord. — ^Mark Guy Pearse, Sermons for Children, p. 56. SAMUEL'S LITTLE COAT ' Moreover his mother made him a little coat, and brought it to him from year to year, vyhen she came up with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice.' — i Samuel ii. ig. Shiloh is one of the saddest places in the Holy Land. It is now a mere heap of grey stones in a corner of a lonely treeless valley. But there are few places that so deeply touch the heart, for it calls forth tender memories of the childhood of Samuel, and teaches us lessons that are to be learned nowhere else, except in that obscure town among the northern hills where the holy child Jesus grew up in wisdom as in stature. When visiting this haunted spot, I wondered if any of the hoary stones which my foot touched had formed part of the rude wall that enclosed the sacred Tabernacle of Israel, or had come in contact in any way with the little Levite who ministered there. The very thought was enough to waken a thrill in my heart, and make the whole wonderful past of the place live again beibre my inner eye. Shiloh was once the very heart of the Holy Land, where the pulse of national life and religion beat loudest. To that holy shrine all the people of Israel came on a pilgrimage once a year. Friends and neighbours made the journey together for the sake of protection and pleasant fellowship. The pious parents of Samuel had been regular pilgrims to this appointed altar, and God rewarded their devotion by giving them the dearest wish of their heart. Hannah, the mother, was a woman of exceptional gifts and goodness. She was worthy of a high place in the household of faith. She dedicated her child to the Lord before he was bom, and made him from his earliest infancy a Nazarite. When he was old enough to enter upon some childlike service in the Tabernacle, she brought him to Shiloh. She gave to God the gift she had received from God. The priests, who took a deep interest in the little boy entrusted to their charge, gave him a garment called an ephod ; a close-fitting coat made of white linen, like that which the high priest wore ; and thus he became an acolyte, and his special duty was to put out the sacred light of the golden candlestick that had burned all night, 129 9 Ver. 19. 1 SAMUEL II Ver. 19. and to open the doors of the Tabernacle at sunrise. But in addition to the ephod his mother made him a little coat, and brought it to him from year to year, when she came up to Shiloh with her husband to offer the yearly sacrifice. I. What could be more touching and beautiful than the fact that Samuel's little coat was made by his mother ? How full of sweet meaning it is ! It is very wonderful how among the lower creatures they make provision for their young by removing parts of themselves for the purpose. The spider encloses its eggs in a silken bag made from its own substance. The solan goose lines its nest with the down which it plucks from its own breast. We have something like this touching devotion in the case of the Walden- sian mother who can-ies in her bosom the flask of water which she gives to the minister on the occasion of the baptism of her child. She thus warms the ice- cold glacier water of her native valleys with the vital heat of her own heart before it touches the face of her child, and the ceremony is thereby invested with a new and most beautiful significance. Equally significant was the provision of the little Hebrew priest's robe by his mother. We can picture the pious Hatmah at home preparing the little coat. She could not buy the linen of which it was made. Each Israelite had to gi-ow on his own farm what he needed for himself and his family, food and clothing and fuel. And doubtless Hannah's husband, in his field on Mount Ephraim, sowed and reaped the flax which she spun and wove and bleached into the linen web, out of which she shaped and sewed the little gar- ment which she presented to her son. Year after year, a part of the produce of the flax harvest was consecrated to this pious use. The blessing of God would be asked upon the sowing and the reaping of the flax ; and many a pious thought and prayer would Hannah form as she spun and wove the linen web, and shaped out of it the pure white linen coat for her son. We can think of her sewing the little priestly robe that was to be employed in the service of God, cherishing fond thoughts of her little boy away beyond the hills, and dreaming as she sewed, as mothers always will, bright dreams of the future of her son. And many a wish did she frame, and many a prayer did she utter, that her boy might be honoured of God to serve his generation nobly ; for the times were sadly out of joint, and those who loved the Lord were indeed few and faint. II. It is good when a mother makes the tiny garments that cover the bodies of her little ones. No more appropriate hands can shape them ; and it is a happy task, for many a bright hope and loving thought are sewed up with every stitch. But it is better still when she makes, as she alone can make, the clothes of the immortal young souls committed to her care. The first clothes of the soul, whatever may be said regarding the fii-st clothes of the body, are made by her. 'The first influence that comes to the mobile character of the child is from the mother, and whatever great and good things have been done in the world may be traced to the impulses and the teachings received from a mother's lips. It is her character that is most deeply impres.sed upon her child ; and it has been often observed that the great majority of the human family ' take after the mother '. The biographies of those who have been most distin- guished for talent and virtue reveal the fact that they have been the children of remarkable mothers. To the mother's hand in infancy they have owed the sowing of the good seed whose growth and fruit- ing have been a blessing to themselves and to the world. Eithne, the mother of the great St. Coluniba, who was among the first to bring the Gospel to our country when it was in heathen darkness, like Hannah, dedicated her little Samuel to the Lord from his birth. Before he was born, she dreamed one night that an angel presented to her a garment of the most beautiful texture and varied hues. This gift, how- ever, He afterwards took away ; and as it flew through the sky it continued to unfold and extend itself over mountains and plains, until at length it covered a space which her eye could not measure. Finding what she had once possessed thus gone out of her reach, she was grieved exceedingly at her loss ; but the angel comforted her by saying that the expanding garment was a symbol of the teaching of the child that should be born to her, which would spread over all Ireland and Scotland, and clothe an innumerable company of souls with the garment of salvation. Blessed are those who, like Samuel and St Columba, are early taught the piety which has its root in mother's love ; who are not only wrapped in the mantle of maternal affection, which, better than ail others, protects the young from the evils of the world, but who are also clothed by a mother's hand, by her teaching and example, under the blessing of heaven, with the robe of Christ's righteousness — that robe which from the very beginning makes them kings and priests unto God and the Father ! III. The coat of Samuel lasted all his life. I do not mean the same identical coat, for we read that every year — we do not know how long — while Samuel ministered in the Tabernacle, his mother prepared and brought up for him a new coat. That coat was invested with too man)' hallowed memories and associations to be ever abandoned. It was the symbol to him of his mother's love and care. It was the robe of religious consecration, to be kept ever sacred. Everywhere we see him dressed in it. It was always appropriate, for while he was a prophet and a judge, he had never ceased to be a priest. We see him offering sacrifice on public occasions for the people ; we hear his loud cries and prayers to God on behalf of Israel in times of danger and distress. In his own house at Ramah he built an altar to the Lord ; and whatever he did, whether ministering at the altar as a priest, or sitting in the chair of justice as a judge, or denouncing doom against the evils of the people as a prophet, he wore the same garment, and the people looked upon him with the same pro- found reverence with which their fathers had regarded 130 Vv. 1-10. 1 SAMUEL III Vv. 1-10. Moses. He was known by his peculiar garment wherever he appeared. Saul laid hold of its skirt when he finally parted from Samuel at Gilgal ; and as it rent in the unhappy monarch's hand, the awful words of doom were pronounced, ' The Lord hath rent the kingdom of Israel from thee, and hath given it to a neighbour of thine that is better than thou '. By the peculiar appearance of his mantle Saul recog- nised him in the vision of Enilor, when he exclaimed, ' I see a god ascending out of the earth '. Thus we find that the little coat which his mother gave him — enlarging its size to suit his advancing years — marked him out as a consecrated person from his childhood to his latest days. He was true all his life to the purpose for which that robe set him apart. The service of God, to which his mother dedicated him fi-om his infancy, was the service in which his whole life, from the beginning to the end, was spent. He identified himself so completely with his mother's coat, that it became in all after ages the mantle of the prophet — the peculiar distinguishing dress of every seer and teacher among men. In the matters of the soul the child should be father to the man. Its spiritual garments should grow with the growth of the soul, and increase with the years of those who wear them. Like the mirac- ulous clothes of the Israelites, they should not wax old in all the passing years, but fit life's latest days as they fitted its earliest hours. How delightful to walk with Christ in white all through life ; to keep that white robe unstained by the world and unspotted by the flesh ; to wear the same priestly dress of love to God and service to man through the varied duties and experiences of life, exchanging it in the end only for the white robe in which the redeemed serve God day and night in His Temple. — Hugh Macmillan, The Spring of the Day, p. 243. THE CHILD SAMUEL I Samuel hi. i-io. God was to speak to Samuel, and to tell him His will. Now God very often speaks to all of you, in a great many different ways, at a gi-eat many different times ; let us see what some of them are. Whenever you hear His Word, He is speaking to you, is He not ? for it was God the Holy Ghost that wrote that Word, and that wrote it for you, as much as for any other of His jieople ; He knew what you, would want to be told, He knew what you would want to be warned against ; and all this that Blessed Spirit then put down, and put down for your sakes. Then again, whenever your conscience says to you, this thing is very disagreeable, but still you ought to do it, and you must do it, or when your conscience says to you, such another thing is very pleasant, looks very bright, seems to promise a great deal of happiness, but it is sin, and how can you do this great wickedness, and offend against God ? — that is God speaking to you, and it is very, very sad if you do not attend. But now about Samuel. God spoke to him, but not at all at the time when you might have expected. Samuel was not saying his prayers, Samuel was not in any of the services of the Temple ; he was not doing any especial good act ; he was only in had. And that may teach you that you never know how and when God may speak to you. Have you never had a good thought put into your minds, you could not tell why, you could not tell how? it just came in of its own accord, very likely your guardian angel put it there, but it was God's voice nevertheless ; and you never can tell how or when it may come ; the thing is, always to be prepared to hear it. Now see something else. God called, and Samuel heard ; but Samuel did not know that it was God. He thought it was Eli. He ran unto Eli, and said, Here am I, for thou calledst me. I wonder, by the by, how many of you, if you were woke out of your first sleep as Samuel was then, would run, as he did, to the person that called you ? It is just these little things that make true obedience ; we are none of us likely to have any great things set us to do for Christ's sake ; the great matter is, to do little things at once. This is the example which our deal' Lord set us. As soon as ever God the Father sent Him to redeem the world, then, without any delay, then, without any hesitation, then, that very moment, He said, Lo I come, to do Thy will, O God. And depend upon it when He went down and lived in that poor cottage in Nazareth, and was subject to St. Mai-y and to ;St. Joseph, He did readily and willingly and at once whatever He was told to do. When He was sent on His blessed mother's errands, He went at once ; when He was employed to fetch any of St. Joseph's tools, He went at once. I do not want you to be like that son in the parable who, when his father said to him. Son, go work to-day in my vine- yard, said, I will not ; but afterwards he repented and went. To be sure, it was a great deal better to do this than not to go at all, but how much best of all it would have been to have gone the very moment he was commanded ! Well, I said that Samuel did not know it was God that was calling him, and thought it was Eli. You say, I wonder how he could ever have made such a mistake I It must have been so easy to tell the dif- ference. Did you ever, any of you, make the same mistake ? come, I will not say, ever ; let us take the time since you came here, and that has now been four days. Have you all always got up that very first moment that the bell rang ? Have you all always done exactly and at once what you were set to do in your lessons, or your work, or your play ? ' No,' you say ; ' but then that is a very different thing. It was only the bell that called us, it was only the mother, or sister Martha who told us what to do ; it was not as if God were speaking to us '. Indeed, it was just exactly the very same thing. You thought it was the bell that rang, or the mother that spoke, just as Samuel thought it was Eli that spoke; but all the while it was God's voice to you ; and when you disobeyed it, you disobeyed Him ; and if you obey it, you obey Him. So you must not wonder, 131 Vv. 1-10. I SAMUEL III Vv. 3, 4. you see, if Samuel made a mistake that you yourselves have made only the last few days. Now there is something else in Samuel that I praise vei-y much. Here he was called up three times, in the middle of the night, and all, it seemed, to no purpose ; and yet he went readily and cheer- fully, and every time it was, ' Here I am : for thou didst call me '. Remember, all of you, it is not enough to do what you are set, unless you do it willingly. If you feel cross all the time you are doing it, if you take as little pains about it as possible, if you try to get it over as soon as you can, that is not the kind of obedience that God loves. And now at last Eli found out the mistake. Eli perceived that God had called the child. And we can very often see when God is calling a child now, when God is putting something in her ways which will prove whether she really means to do His will or her own : yes, and is giving her grace to obey Him, is calling her nearer and nearer to Him, becau.se some day He means to call her to live with Him for ever and ever. As I get to know you all better, what a pleasui'e it will be to me to see that God is calling some of you in this way ! What a great happiness to find oat that you are trying to do something which is disagreeable, because you know that it is right, or to leave alone something that is very pleasant, because you are sure that it is wrong ! Then Eli told Samuel what to do. He was to go and lie down once more, and if God called him again, he was to answer, ' Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth '. And Samuel did so ; only he left out one little word: and what was that? Eli had told him to say, ' Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth' : but he did say, ' Speak — speak, for Thy servant heareth '. I suppose he could not believe that the God Who made heaven and earth would come down to speak to a child like himself: he did not think it possible that the voice, the still small voice which he heard in the quietness and darkness of that night, could be the same voice which, as he had read, had given the Law upon Mount Sinai, when the people were so terrified at the sound, that they said to Moses, ' Let not God speak with us, lest we die '. But what would Samuel have said if he had known what all of you know — that God not only speaks to children, but that He became a Child Himself : first a little helpless Baby, as weak and helpless as any other baby, quite dependent on His dear mother, nursed by her, fed by her, rocked to sleep by her; and then a Child, learning as other children, playing as other children, in all things doing as other children do, only without .sin ? Do you not think this would have astonished Samuel, much more than it did that God should have appeared to him in Shiloh ! Much as he knew of God's love at that time, do you not think it would have seemed to him quite beyond all belief that the God of all things should become a Child in the cottage of a poor carpenter ? And see, when God had thus called Samuel, what He gave him to do. It was a very hard and very painful thing. He was to go to Eli, and give him a very sad and very painful message. Because Elli had not kept back his sons from their great wicked- ness, therefore in one day they were both to die, and the High Priesthood was to be taken away out of that family. It says, ' Samuel feared to show Eli the vision '. I dare say he did, but still, he did as he was commanded, and he did it faithfully : he kept back nothing : Samuel told him every whit ; he hid nothing from him. And Eli received it like a good man as he was, notwithstanding his faults; he said : ' It is the Lord, let Him do what seemeth Him good '. God very often speaks to all of you, and yet you do not know who it is that is speaking ; you never can tell how or when He may say something to you which you are bound to obey ; when those who are set over you tell you to do anything, it is not so much they who speak as it is God that speaks ; and therefore, whatever you do at their bidding, you must, as the Apostle says, 'do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not to men '. — J. M. Neale, Sermons for Children, p. 109. SAMUEL, GOD, AND DARKNESS ' And Samuel V7as laid down to sleep, and the Lord called Samuel.' — i Samuel hi. 3, 4. There are many, many fair and beautiful disposi- tions in the world, 'out the disposition of God is the fairest and most beautiful of all. This we know because God is like Christ Jesus. It was His spirit and disposition that shone out into Christ's life, and that was the faire.st, loveliest life the world has ever seen. Now, the boy Samuel, though without our advantages, as he had neither seen Jesus, nor been able to read about Him — for when Samuel lived Jesus had not yet come into the world, — l-,new some very joyful things of God. About one of these I will tell you. One night Samuel heard the voice of God ! I dare say if anyone had told him that he was going to hear the voice of so great and holy a Being speaking to him, the little fellow would have felt afraid. To hear God speak ! Oh, that must be very dreadful ! for people seem naturally to think that the great and holy God must be terrib'e. Samuel had, doubtless, read h iw the children of Israel, when they heard the thunder on Sinai, and felt the mountain quake, said it was the voice of God, and they exceedingly feared and trembled ; and perhaps Samuel would not think that God would make any difference when He was speaking to a little boy ; for the Bible says Samuel did not know God yet. When God spoke from Sinai, He was speaking to a great crowd — a crowd of grown-up people, and very hard-hearted and wicked people ; but when He spoke to Samuel, He was speaking to a boy, a little boy, all alone and in the dark night. Samuel, however, had no warning that God was going to speak to him. He did not know anything about it, and when the voice came he mistook it, so 132 Vv. 3, 4. 1 SAMUEL III Vv. 3, 4. sweet and gentle was it, for the voice of kind old Eli. Samuel lived with Eli in the same house. It was night when the voice came, and both Eli and Samuel were in bed. ' Samuel, Samuel,' it said, and Samuel thought, 'There is Eli calling me. Perhaps he's ill and wants something ' ; for Eli was old. And Samuel lost no time in going to see what Eli might want. I cannot tell you how much I like to think of this mistaking the voice of God for Eli's voice ; for the dear old Eli could not find in his heart to speak hai"shly to people. Even when his own bo^'s were behaving badly, and doing wicked things, his voice was without one tone of harshness. It was a pity that it was so ; for his naughty and uncorrected bovs grew up — as all naughty boys who are uncorrected do — to be bad and miserable men. But when the old man had to speak to Samuel there was no need for harshness. He found in him all that his fond heart longed for, and he could always speak to him in the tender tones he loved so well. And I like to think, too, that the voice was mistaken for Eli's voice in the night, when there would be more than usual tenderness through the old man's natural reluctance to wake him out of his first sleep. So this little story is to me one of the most beauti- ful things in all the Bible. It is beautiful in itself Just think al)out it. A little boy is all alone, and in the dark, lying on his little bed and fast asleep. God speaks to him and awakes him, .and his first waking thought is that the voice which woke him is the voice of the old man who loves him so much, and he goes to the old man. The IMhle does not say that the old man patted the little fellow's cheek, and stroked his head, when he sent him back to his bed and told him that he was a good boy for coming, though he was mistaken — Eli had not called him ; but from what we know of Eli's nature I am sure he would do so. And the boy would smile, and go back to bed again. Then he lav down and fell asleep again. But the sweet voice did not leave him. Once more it awoke him. And such a delight was it to do anything that so kind a voice might want, the little fellow did not say, ' Oh, it's a mistake, I've been once. I've been dreaming again '. He was charmed out of bed again. And again did he go to Eli, and the old man was not vexed to be disturbed again. There was a strong affection between the two. Eli was happy to have the boy near him, and the boy was happy to be there, sleeping-time though it was. At last Samuel found out the voice to be the voice of God, and God and he had a little talk together. I said this story was a beautiful story for its own sake, but it is still more beautiful for the sake of what it tells us about God — your God and mine. A jewel case may be beautiful, but the case exists for the gold and diamonds inside of it ; and the story of this little boy in the night hearing God's voice is very beautiful, but the story is only the beautiful case of bright and glorious truths. For it teaches what God was in Samuel's day, and what God was then God is now. and will always be. This is what we mean when we sing of the character of God — ' As it was in the be- ginning, is now and ever shall be '. There are two jewels, then, in this case, two very precious truths in this story. The first is, that supposing we should hear the voice of God, like other voices, speaking aloud to us, even awaking us out of our sleep, even in the dark and we were quite alone, we should not be frightened. It is too sweet and tender to alarm us. To know and believe that about God, would it not make the heart peaceful and strong ? The second is, that even a child would not be afraid ; for it would seem to its little heart to be most like some dear one's voice, the voice of perfect earthly love ; a voice that would not only not awaken fear, but, if fear happened to be there when the voice came, would at once cast it out. This, then, is what we leai'n from the story of Samuel and God in the night. So now, is not all this mixing up in Samuel's mind of the voice of God and the voice of Samuel's dear old friend very delightful? I love to talk about it just because it is fiir too common for a child to think of God in a way that frightens till at length it finds it best not to think about Him at all. He has been made to seem to it something like what a policeman seems to a thief, or what his task-master seems to a slave — An Eye looking to detect some cause of punish- ment. The idea of God coming in the dark, and to speak to it alone ! — nothing could be more dreadful. I knew a little boy who had just been doing some- thing naughty, and to whom his mamma had been using the name of the Almighty God as a convenient rod of correction. She had been telling him how God was ' looking ' at him, always looking, and how, when He saw a wrong thing in children. He put it down in His book of remembrance, and would at the last day bring all up in judgment against them. She was just finishing her talk as she tucked the boy up in bed. Looking to the Venetian blinds at the bedroom window — which were down but open, so that they could be seen through — pale and afraid, he asked that they might be closed, and with much excitement he added, ' Can He see through the blinds ' ? To him thoughts of God were dreadful, and he hoped the closed blinds might at least shut God out of his room. But if God had for Himself spoken to the little fellow about his easily besetting sin he might have cried, most likely he must have cried, per- haps as if he would cry his heart away, he would have been so sorry to think how he had grieved so gentle and so true a friend ; but he would not have looked pale, he would not have trembled with fear, nor would he have wanted the blind to be turned to shut God out, though he might have wanted it turned to shut God in. He would have thrown the arms of his heart around such love and have cried, ' Whom have I in heaven but Thee, and there is nobody in all the world that I want so much as Thee'. And when sleep had closed his weary eyes, the idea that God was watching would have given him such a smile as only 133 Ver. 9. 1 SAMUEL III Ver. 9. the angels wear. But it was not so. That poor, frightened boy was like Samuel before the voice came to him in the night — he did not yet know the Lord. He only knew one of the lords many and gods many which have been put into the minds of children, and frighten them, and which ai'e all false. ' God is love.' We are never right, then, except when we think of God as we think of our dearest, truest friend. — Ben- jamin Wadgh, Sunday Evenings with my Children, p. 210. THE LIVING BOOK ' Speak, Lord, foi Thy servant heareth.' — i Samuel hi. g. There is an old fairy story which some of you may remember. It tells us of one who posse.ssed a magic ring which enabled him to understand the language of birds and beasts. Now I have often wished for such a ring. I should dearly like to understand what the birds in the hedges are saying to one another. I am quite sure that birds do talk to each other, and that dogs, and cows, and hor.ses, and all animals have their secrets, which they whisper into each other's ears. Well, I am going to tell you about a child who fancied he could understand the language of the birds and beasts about him. He was not strong and healthy enough to play with other children, so he was much alone, and that made him very thoughtful. He was never tired of studying nature and learning about flowers, and trees, and animals ; and from being so much with them, and so seldom with any other company, the child learned to find ' Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything '. The child had read how the good St. Francis used to call the birds and beasts his brethren, how he called the lark his sister; and how, when he was dying, the Saint whispered — ' Welcome, sister death '. The child thought all this very beauti- ful, as indeed it is ; and he loved to find his brethren and playmates in God's world of nature. The child would think to himself — 'I am too weakly to play and run with other children, and they do not care for my talk. But the skylark can tell me what the world looks like from the blue sky, and the bees, as they go humming by, bring me sweet messages from the woods and meadows. I soon grow tired of hearing people talk, it makes my head ache. But I am never wearv of the river that tells me such wonderful stories f ' Now, most people only heard the stream murmuring aniong the reeds, or rushing over the stones ; but to the child the river spoke a language which he could under- stand. It told him how it was born in a little spring, faraway among the hills, and how at first it was only a baby of a stream, and how it grew bigger and stronger, and carried ships and men far out to the wide sea. Sometimes the child was taken to the sea- side, and there indeed he had friends to talk with. The winds and the waves brought all kinds of mes- sages. Sometimes the wind seemed to tell him that it had come from Africa, and had been blowing over wide deserts of yellow sand, and dark, hot jungle. Sometimes a fresh, cool wind would come blowing aci-oss the sea, which seemed to bring the child a message from the north, and he could see in fancy snow-crowned mountains, and dark pine-woods, and lakes of glittering ice. If he put a sea-shell to his ear the child would say that the shell was telling the secrets of the sea, and reminding him of Columbus, and Drake, and Kaleigh, and many another good sea- king of olden time. And the child would often say that God had been talking to him. And when his friends asked him how this was possible, the child would answer that God spoke to him bv His works. The wind roaring in the autumn made the child re- member ' how God doth send forth His voice, yen, and that a mighty voice ; the voice of the Lord shaketh the wilderness of Cades '. When the autumn leaves fell thick around him, the child seemed to hear the voice of God whispering — ' We all do fade as a leaf. We f;ide away suddenly like the grass : in the morning it is green, and groweth up, but in the even- ing it is cut down, dried up, and withered.' When the buds peeped out in valley and hedgerow in the spring time, the child seemed to hear God's voice on every side, saying, ' I am the Resurrection and the Life ; He that sitteth upon the throne maketh all things new '. So it .seemed that God spoke to the little boy. In the child's home there was a great library of books, and when he could not go out he spent his time in reading. It seemed to him that the people in his favourite books were all living, and that they spoke to him. All the characters in the dear old fairy tales and children's stories were real living companions to the lonely child. They could take him away from the room where he sat, and make him forget his weak health, and his solitary life. One day he was away in a lonely, tropical island with Robinson Crusoe, or Sinbad the Sailor, amongst brilliant birds, and glorious fruits and flowers. He could fly away in a minute to China, and see Aladdin's palace and the wonderful lamp. So, too, all the per- sons in history seemed alive to the child, and appeared to walk out of the pages of the book as it were. When he read of the Norman Conquest he did not think of it as having happened eight hundred years ago, but only yesterday. The child fancied he could hear the tramp oi' feet as the Normans rushed up the hill at H.istings, and the whistling of the arrows, and the clash of the battle-axes round King Harold and the standard. But there was one book which the child loved best, and which he always called his living Book. That book was the Bible, and he was never tired of reading it. ' They are all alive to me,' he would say of the Scripture characters. ' I can see them, and hear them talk, and then God speaks to me as He did to the child Samuel, and I answer, "Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth ". It seemed to the child as if he knew Samuel as a boy of his own age, and as though they walked together in the house of the Lord as friends. He had cried over the death of the Shunam- mite's son, and rejoiced at his return to life, just as 134 Ver. 9. 1 SAMUEL III Ver. 9. if these two children had known each other, and played together in the corn fields. But there was One Child whom the httle boy loved to think of, and to look at oftener than any other. When he read of Him there seemed to rise before him a little town among the hills ; a fair place, where the red cactus and many another flower grew wild. Among the children in the bright Easter dresses who played among the hills, or rested by the fountains, there was One whose face seemed more beautiful than the others, who, though He played with the children, was often grave and thoughtful. The little boy loved to follow every step of that Holy Child, through all the won- drous, beautiful story. He would pictui-e the gentle, patient, loving life of the Child Jesus, and then pray that he might be gentle, and patient, and loving too. He tried to do as a famous Saint advises us, ' to be little with the Little One, that we may increase in stature with Him,' by setting before him the example of that Perfect Child who ' increased in stature and in favour with God and man ' ; as pure and stainless ' as the flower of roses in the spring of the year, and as lilies by the waters '. So it was that the Bible was to the child a living book. He could see the workshop at Nazareth, and the Boy Jesus helping Joseph at his bench. He could see the gentle mother watctiing her Son with thoughtful eyes, and wondering how the words of the prophets should be fulfilled. He could see the Holy Ciiild going for the first time to Jerusalem, along the road edged by fields of dazzling green, and spangled with a thousand flowers. He could see the spacious halls of the Temple, and watch the Child Jesus standing among the doctors. So the child lived with the people of whom he read. If he felt weary he could go to Bethany, and rest with Martha and Mary, and see Jesus there. If he were weak and ailing, and laid upon his bed, Jesus seemed to stand by his side as He stood by the side of Jairus's little daughter. If he were sad and un- happy he could go to Gethsemane, and weep with Jesus. So it was that the child found comfort in his Bible, he could say — it is a living Book, Jesus is alive to me I LISTENING FOR GOD'S COMMANDS ' EH said unto Samuel, Go, lie down ; and it shall be, if He call thee, that thou shali say, Speak, Lord ; for Thy servant heareth. So Samuel went and lay down in his place.' — I Samuel hi. g. Eli said, 'Go, lie down ' ; 'so Samuel went and lay down in his place '. That was doing simply what he was told. It was a little thing ; but obedience has to do with little things a great deal more often than with great things. And I think a great many boys would at least have wanted telling twice before going to lie down again as Samuel did. If the same thing- could happen to one of you who are listening to me now, would there be sure to be the same quiet and instant obedience ? I could fancy the boy answering the good old priest, and saying, ' Oh, no ; I am afraid. Do let me stay with you. It makes me tremble to go and lie down all alone in the dark. If God does call me again, and speak to me, I shall be frightened.' But Samuel said not a word. I think his little heart must have beaten very fast, but he .said not a word. He just did simply and quietly what Eli told him to do. And Eli gave him good advice. If God call thee, thou shalt say, ' Speak, Lord ; for Thy servant heareth '. It is about that good advice that I wish to speak to you for a few minutes to-day. God has set me to teach you, just as He set Eli to teach Samuel. I daresay Eli had other boys besides Samuel under his care ; but, if there were others, we know nothing about them. We know only what passed between Eli and Samuel. The aged priest spoke well and wisely to his little pupil. And, if I were seeking for a good lesson to teach you in a very few words, I don't think I could do better than say to each one of you, ' My child, if God calls thee, say. Speak, Lord ; for Thy servant heareth '. ' If God calls thee ' — am I right in that ' //' ? No, I think 1 am wrong ; for there is really no 'if in the matter. God is always calling you. I must say, ' When,' not ' If. ' When God calls thee, say. Speak, Lord ; for Thy servant heareth.' But you don't heai' God calling, you say. I know very well that it has never happened to you, when you were lying all alone in the dark in the middle of the night, to hear God's voice speaking aloud to you, as Samuel did. But God speaks in many different ways. I heard quite lately a story of a lad who came to a clergyman whom I knew to be prepared for Con- firmation. The lad, who was at service in a farm- house, was very ignorant, and did not even know how to pray. So my friend taught him, and told him not to mind the other men and boys, but to kneel down and say his prayers every night ; for, if he was ashamed of doing this, he would be ashamed of Jesus, and would be denying Him before men. So he did as his clergyman told him to do, and kept to it too, though the others tried hard at first to prevent him and to laugh him out of it. At last one day he was sent by his master to a fair a long way off", and had to sleep at a public-house in the same room with some drovers, who were very rough and bad in their language. He thought at first there could be no harm in saying his prayers in bed that one night, and was meaning to do so, when something seemed to say to him, ' If you are ashamed of saying your prayere, you are ashamed of Jesus, and denying Him before men'. So he knelt down bravely, and, shutting his ears to the laughter and scoff's of the drovers, said his prayers straight through in his heart to God. Now, who spoke to that lad that night, and said, ' If you are ashamed of saying your prayers, you are ashamed of Jesus, and denying Him before men ' ? I have no doubt God spoke to him by His Holy Spirit. Of course he recollected what the clergyman had said to him, but it was none the less God speak- 135 Ver. 9. 1 SAMUEL III Ver. 10. ing to him. For God speaks through memory, and conscience, and reason, as truly as in any other way. He spoke to that lad through his memory. And he obeyed. He had learnt to say, 'Speak, Lord; for Thy servant heareth ' ; ' Tell me, Lord, what I ought to do, and I will do it'. And years afterwards, when that lad had grown to be a man, and had pros[iered in the world, he told my friend, whom he met by accident one day in a town a long way from where they had first known each other, that he owed all his blessings in this life to that one lesson which he had learnt when he came to be prepared for Con- firmation— the lesson of simple obedience to God without caring what man might do or say. A boy once in a school was trying for a prize, and, not being clever at arithmetic, he could not do the sums set, and he was tempted to look secretly at the answers in a book he had with him, when the master's back was turned. By this means he got the highest marks, and would have had the prize. But some- thing kept continually whispering to him, ' You are a cheat, and a thief, deceiving the master, and robbing the boy who deserves it of the jirize '. And at last he could bear it no longer, but went to the master, and confessed what he had done, and so lost the prize, though he gained something better worth having, which was a quiet conscience. Now who spoke to that boy so loudly and clearly that he was forced to go and confess his sin ? It was his conscience, some of you would say. Aye, but it was something greater than conscience. It was, in very truth, God calling to him through his conscience. And it was well for him that at last he heard and obeyed. Once more, a little child once heaid its father reading a chapter in the Proverbs aloud. In it were the words, 'My son, give Me thine heart'. The child dill not listen to the rest of the chapter, but kept thinking about these words. They seemed to be ringing in its eai's all day afterwards, and it could not forget them. And at night when that little child said its prayers, it said, 'Father, I give Thee my heart, to be Thy very own as long as I live '. Who spoke those words to that child's heart ? They were read in the Bible, you say. Yes, but the Bible is God's Word. And God spoke to that little child through the Bible. And when the child heard God's call, it obeyed. I hope it never all its life long took back the gift it gave to God that night. Oh ! it is a happy thing to be always listening for God's voice, and always ready to obey it I May God give you an ear to hear and a will to do. As soon as ever God shows you what He would have you do, do it in a moment. He speaks to you sometimes in the silent voice of your own hearts ; sometimes by His holy word, sometimes by His ministers, sometimes by the things He sends you, such as sicknesses, warnings, sorrows. If you will only listen you will hear Him speaking to you very very often, and in all sorts of ways. Don't stop your ears and refuse to listen. Don't make such a noise and clatter with the poor things of this world that vou can't hear Him. Try your very best to find out what He would have you to do. Say to Him from your very hearts, ' Speak, Lord ; for Thy servant heareth '. — Bishop Walsham How, Plain Words to Children, p. 95. SAMUEL, THE MODEL OF EARLY PIETY ' And the Lord came and called— Samuel, Samuel. Then Samuel answered, Speak ; for Thy servant heareth.' — I Samuel iii. lo. I. Samuel's Early Piety made him — ' A Model of Usefulness '. — Samuel became a prophet of the Lord, and was very useful in this way. He made known to the people of Israel what God wanted them to do, and taught them how they were to serve and please Him. And then he was a judge as well as a prophet. He went out at stated times among the people, and settled their disputes and quarrels, and so he was the means of promoting peace and happiness among them. He did a great deal of good to the people of Israel in this way. And then, though Samuel was not a soldier, yet when the Philistines, their enemies, came against them in battle, he prayed to God for the success of the Israelites, and thus he was the means of obtaining a great victory for them. In addition to all this he was very useful as a teacher. He established schools that were called — ' the schools of the prophets '. They were places where young men, who were going to serve God as prophets and teachei-s of the people, might leam about the duties of religion, and be trained and fitted for their work. And how much good was done to the people of Israel in this way no one can tell. And so we see that Samuel's whole life was one of usefulness in many ways. And all this grew out of his eai'ly piety. And if we try to love and serve God while we are young, as Samuel did, it will make us models of use- fulness as he was. We may not be prophets, or judges, like Samuel, but still it will be sure to make us useful. When we become Christians and learn to serve God, it will make us useful in a great manv ways. Then, as the Apostle Paul says, we shall find that ' whether we eat, or drink, or whatsoever we do,' we shall be able to 'do all to the glory of God'. No matter how poor we mav be, or how young, we shall yet be able to make ourselves useful, and do a great deal of good. II. Samuel's Early Piety made him — 'A Model of Happiness'. — Religion is intended to make us happy. Loving and serving God is the secret of true happiness. We sometimes see persons who profess to be religiou.s, but who have very long faces, and always look gloomy and sad. They do not understand what religion is. There is some mi.stake in their views of it. Samuel's piety did not make him sad and sorrow- ful. Although while he was young he had to live away from home, and only saw his father and mother once a year when they came up to woiship God at the tabernacle, yet he was cheerful and happy. And 136 Ver. 10. 1 SAMUEL III Ver. 10. when he grew up to be a man he was always happy and cheerful. The people all loved him. They had confidence in him ; and when they were in trouble they would come and tell him of it, and ask his advice about what they had better do. When our Saviour was on earth, in his conversation with the woman of Samaria at Jacob's well, as we read in the fourth chapter of St. John, he compared true religion to a vvell of water, or a well of happiness in our hearts, ' springing up unto everlasting life '. This is the most beautiful definition of religion that ever was given. Samuel had this well of water in his heart, and no wonder that it made him happy. And if we learn to love and serve God while we are young, as SauRiel did, Jesus will open up this well of water in our hearts ; and then, wherever we may be, and whatever mav hajipen to us, we shall always be hapjiy. Keligion is intended to make us happy. It is God's great secret of happiness, and no one can be truly happy without it. III. Samuel's Early Piety made him — 'A Model of Perseverance'. — To persevere means to keep on doing whatever we begin to do without giving up. One reason why some people never succeed in what they begin to do is that they do not persevere. They soon get tired and give it up. Hut this was not the way with Samuel. When he began to serve God he pei-severed in it. He kept on trying without getting tired. He never gave it up, but went steadily on with it. From that memorable night — ' When little Samuel woke, and heard his Maker's voice,' until the day of his death he persevered in serving God. He went steadily on, trying always to do God's will, and to please Him in all things. And it was a long time in which he thus persevered. We have seen that Samuel was only eight or ten years old when he began to .serve God. We are not told how old he was when he died. But it is probable that he was not less than ninety years of age at the time of his death. Then he must have gone on serving God for eighty years. That was a long time. And when we think of Samuel during all those years, as continually trying to serve (Tod,and never getting tired or giving up, we may well speak of him as — •' a 'model of perse- verance ' . And if we try to serve God when we are young as Samuel did, we shall be able to follow his example in this respect, and like him, we too, shall become models of perseverance. But some may be ready to ask, ' How can we be sure of this'? I answer, 'Easily enough'. It was the grace of God which made Samuel pious when he was young ; and which enabled him to ])ersevere in serving God through all the years of his long life. And what the grace of God did for Samuel it is able to do for you and me. That grace, like God Himself, is Almighty. Whatever we have to do, we can do easily with the help of that grace. St. Paul said, ' I can do all things through Christ strengthening me '. He meant that he could do this by the help of God's grace. And this is just as true now as it was eighteen hundred years ago when St. Paul was here on earth. The grace of God makes hard things easy and crooked things straight. It enables us to go on in serving God as long as we live. It will make us like Samuel, models of perseverance. And it is the boys and girls who begin to serve God when they are young, and learn to persevere, who become the most useful. Let us look at some examples of perseverance that may encourage us in trying to learn this very im- portant les.son. The per severing hoy. — A good many years ago there was a poor boy in England who was learning to be a shoemaker. Before he got through with his trade he became a Christian. Then he made up his mind that whatever he attempted to do he would keep on, and persevere till he got through with it. Afterwards he determined to study for the ministry. He began his studies, and went on perseveringly with them till he got through. After he was ordained he went out as a missionary to India. And he became one of the most useful missionaries that the Church ever had. He learned the language of the people among whom he preached. Then he made a grammar of that language. After this he made a dictionary. This dictionary filled up three large, heavy volumes. Then he translated the New Testament and different parts of the Old Tes- tament into that language. This opened up the knowledge of Je.sus and His salvation to millions of people in that country. The missionary of whom I am speaking was the celebrated William Carey. Somebody asked J\Ir. Carcv one day how he managed to get through with so much work. The answer he gave to this question is one that we should all re- member. He said : ' I did it by plodding '. To plod means to keep on with anything we are doing till we get through with it. To plod is the same as to persevere. And so Carey the missionary in the great work he did in India stands before us as- — a model of perseverance. The story of a bootblack. — More than a hundred years ago, there lived a boy in the city of Oxford, in England, whose name was George. He was so poor that he used to clean the boots of the students at the University as the only means he had of getting a living. He was a Christian boy. He was very obliging and pleasant in his manners. He was warm- hearted and generous to all. The young flien whose boots he blacked learned to love him. After a while when they found out that George wanted to become a student, they aureed to help him along. They found him very quick to learn and veiy persevering in his studies. He never lo.st a moment of time, but learned his lessons with the utmost diligence. He soon got to be one of the best students in the college. In this way he went on perseveringly till he got through. Then he .studied theology and became a minister. Some of those who had helped him on when he began his studies made fun of him and persecuted him when they saw what an earnest Chris- tian he was. But this did not move him. He was 137 Ver. 10. 1 SAMUEL III., IX V^er. 26. firm as a rock. Nothing could change him. He went steadily on till he had finished his studies. Then he began to preach, and soon became one of the most eloquent and successful ministers in the country. So many people flocked to hear him that no church could hold them. Then he preached out of doors in the open fields, and sometimes there would be as many as twenty thousand people at one time listening to his preaching. He went about all over England and all through America preaching the Gospel of Christ, and doing an amount of good that never will be known till the last great day. This bootblack boy became the famous George Whitejield — the greatest preacher that the Church has known since the days of the Apostle Paul. George Whitefield was a model of perseverance. I will finish this part of our sermon with a story of a persevering bishop. One of these was Bishop Doane, formerly Bishop of New Jersey. On one occasion he was in New York trying to raise money for St. Mary's College at Burlington, where he lived. He stayed there till the close of the week, intending to return home by the last train on Saturday evening. It was veiy important for him to reach home that evening, for he had an engagement to preach and hold confirmation the next day. A little while before it was time for him to start for the train a gentleman called to see him, who had some money to give him for the college. The bishop was very uneasy, for he was afraid he might miss the train. As soon as he could do so he excused himself to the gentleman, and hurried away to the railway station. But when he amved there he found to his sorrow that the train had left about ten minutes before ! The bishop was greatly troubled. He could not bear to think of not being in his place the next day. Many a man would have said : ' Well, it's not my fault. I did the best I could. I can't help it. I am very sorry not to be able to keep my engagement for to-moiTow. But I must give it up.' But Bishop Doane did not think, nor feel, in this way about it. He was a persevering man, and he re- solved, if it was possible, to try and get home before Sunday morning. So he went to the agent and said : ' My friend, is there no other train that goes through Burlington to-night' ? ' No, su-,' was the reply ; ' no passenger train. There is a freight train that leaves here in about half an hour.' ' Very good,' said the bishop, ' suppose you give me a ticket on that train. I can sit on the engine, or on the platform in front of one of the cars. I have a very important engagement in Bui-lington to-morrow ; and I must be there, if possible.' ' I would gladly do so,' .said the agent, ' if I could. But it is against the positive rules of our company to take passengers on a freight train.' ' Well,' replied the bishop, ' I wouldn't on any ac- count tempt you to break the rules of the company. But have you room for any more freight in this train ? ' ' Yes, sir, plenty.' ' Then put me on the scales, and see how much I weigh.' The agent weighed him, and said, ' A hundred and seventy-five pounds.' ' What do you charge,' asked the bishop, ' for carry- ing that much freight ? ' The agent told him. The bishop gave him the money and then said, ' Now put me in one of the cars, and carry rne to Burlington as freight '. This was done, and the bishop reached home in time for his engagement on Sunday. IV. Samuel's Early Piety made him — 'A Model of Honour'. — The Bible speaks of two kinds of hotioui'. One is ' the honour that cometh from man,' and the other, ' the honour that cometh from God '. The first of these is not worth much. It does not help to make us good or happy. It is only an empty name. In England, for example, when the King wishes to give a man what is called ' the honour of knighthood,' he allows him to have the title of Sir written before his name. Thus, if his name was known as John Smith, he will, after this, always be spoken of as — Sir John Smith. This is considered a great honour, and men feel very proud of it. But when Sir John Smith dies this honour will all pass away. He will not be able to carry it with him into the other world. It is like writing a man's name on the sand by the sea-shore. When the next tide rolls over it, it will be all swept away. But ' the honour that cometh from God ' is very different from this. It is not a mere name. It is not the honour of what we are called, but of what we are made to be. It is something that will help to make us good, and great, and happy. And it is something that will last for ever. When the angel of Gabriel wanted to give Zacharias, the father of John the Bap- tist, an idea of the honour which belonged to him, he said : ' I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God ' (Luke 1. 19). He had the honour- of standing close by the throne of God in heaven. He had this honour eighteen hundred years ago. He has this honour still, and he will have it for ever. And so it was with Samuel. He had the honour of being the servant of God. He had the honour of speaking and working for God, when he was here on earth, more than three thousand years ago. And he has this honour still. — Richard Newton, Bible Models, p. 107. THE SPRING OF THE DAY. 'And it came to pass about the spring of the day, that Samuel called Saul to the top of the house, saying. Up, that I may send thee awray.' — i Samuel ix. 26. Very romantic were the circumstances in which Saul was called to be the first king of Israel. It was while he was seeking the strayed asses of his father, and had wandered far ti'om home in seai'ch of them, over a region in which he was a complete stranger. Hear- ing that the prophet of Israel lived in one of the hill villages to the foot of which he happened to come, 138 Ver. 26. 1 SAMUEL IX Ver. 2G. he climbed up the steep slope and met him half-way. Samuel was told in a secret communication from the Lord that this was the man whom He had chosen to set over His people as their first king. The prophet asked Saul to stay with him all night in his house ; and early in the morning he awoke his young guest from a sound sleep, caused by the great fatigue of the previous day, and together they started from the roof of the house by the stair that led down into the street. The word used in our English Bible in speaking of this early start is very striking. The time is called ' the spring of the day '. In the original the word means a rising or growing up like water from a well, or a plant from a seed, or a branch from a tree. It means in the text the rising of the sun, or the ' day- spring,' as it is elsewhere called in Scripture. But I wish to use it in a poetical sense, and compare the early morning to the spring of the year. The time was to the day what spring was to the year. The diurnal revolution of the eartli upon its own axis corresponds with the annual revolution of the earth round the sun, and the different periods of the day — morning, noon, and night — therefore resemble the different seasons of the year — spring, summer, autumn, and winter. According to this beautiful analogy the spring of the day embraces the early hours after sun- rise. And what a delicious time that is ! It is so like the spring of the year. Everything is fresh and bright as if new created out of the darkness of the previous night. The dew is sparkling in the eyes of the flowers just opening, and on the blades of the grass that shimmer in the level light. The air is cool and crisp, and the sky bends down to the earth with radiant beauty, and invests it with much of its own ethereal loveliness. I wish to make that i-emarkable poetic expression which occurs in the narrative, the ' spring of the day,' the key of my discourse, and to derive from it some instructive lessons which it suggests. I. The spring of the day was the best time for Saul's departure. It is the best time for the new de- parture of each day. Both mind and body refreshed by the sleep of the past night are recreated, made anew, full of fresh energv and new hope. All things seem possible in the magic dawning of the day. You can do more in the morning hours than at any other period of the day ; and the quality of the work done then in the purer, calmer light will be finer, just as the flowers that grow in spring are brighter and fairer than those which grow later on. One hour in the morning is worth three in the afternoon. With the dawning of each new day you are summoned like Saul by a greater than Samuel to set out upon a new stage of your mortal journey. And God claims the spring of the day for Himself, for the refreshment of your soul, and for preparation for what may await you in the world. II. The ' spring of the day ' is the best time to devote the heart and life to God's sei"vice. Saul went down from the hill with the prophet to be anointed King of Israel in the spring of the day, when his powers were at their very best And so you, too, should depart from the world to God, from your old life of sin to a new life of heavenly love and devotion, in the spring of the day. You, too, are called to be anointed kings unto your God ; and the best season for this is the springtime of your life. There are uo such honoured and successful kings as those who are con- secrated early to their high functions, who give their first powers and affections to the noble task of reign- ing over themselves and under Christ in the world, and helping to make the world the kingdom of Chiist. Youthful piety is the most beautiful thing in the world. Never is religion so attractive as when you see it in some promising youth walking with happy steps in the path of innocence and peace. It is like the morning sun and the early dew, making life an Eden with its first fair love, with its prospects bright and assured for both worlds, for time and eternity. It is no Gilboa of defeat and death that ends a journey begun thus in the spring of the day, but a Pisgah from which the land that is very far off will be seen nigh, and the king in His beauty will trans- figure the faithful soul into His own likeness. III. But there is another departure in the spring of the day which is not joyous, but grievous. It is a departure down the hill of life into the dark valley of death. But if it is with God Himself, anointed in order to be crowned with the cro\vn of life, then the grief is changed into joy. It was a favourite saying of the old Greeks that those whom the gods love die young. And there are many, weary and worn out with the long journey of life, who often think that they are best off who have finished that journey soonest, in the spring of the day. The death of the old, full of years, their work accomplished, gathered like ripe sheaves of corn into the garner, is according to the order'of nature. But what shall we say of the death of little children, whose sun, as in an arctic summer, scarcely rises above the horizon when it dips below it again, or of those who have revealed to the inner circle of home the rare promise of their lives, and then closed up the bud in death ? This seems a terrible waste. But often are the young taken away from the evil to come. Could Saul have foreseen the terrible ending to which his way led, on that eventful morning when he set out to be made a king, how gladly would he have laid down his life then and there, and prevented the dark fate that was coming ! And could we in many a case foresee the dark future in this world from which an early departure is a happy deliverance, it would help to reconcile us to the spring frost which often untimely withers the lovely spring blossom. Many a fond mother would rather have seen her darling laid in his sweet innocence below the daisies, than have lived to see him grow up to be a curse to himself and to others. Our sorrow for the young, though it is more vivid and pathetic perhaps than any other kind of sorrow, is nevertheless ' a thornless sorrow,' for they have been called home ere thev could share our fatal experience of guilt and 139 Ver. 6. 1 SAMUEL XIV Ver. (i. woe, and they have in an easy way become the inheri- tors of immortality. For death as well as for life Jesus says to us, ' Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto Me : for of such is the kingdom of heaven '. There is hope of a new departure for those of you who have hitherto lived only for youi-selves, in that lovely expression ' the spring of the day'. For just as each natural day is a miniature of the whole year, so each human day is a miniature of the whole of your life. And as God brings back to you the spring season of the year every morning in the natural world, so He t3rings back to you in the same way your youth each morning in leeling. And if, while mourning your wasted years, you wish earnestly to start anew upon the heavenly path ; if you wish that your childhood could be restored in all its bloom and freshness in order that you might live no more to yourself but to God, He takes you at your word. He will bring back to you your youth again, not actually as the shadow of the degrees was brought backward on the dial of Ahaz, but by representation. Each day is life on a smaller scale. It has, as I have said, its infancy, its youth, its manhood, its decline : its spring, summer, autumn, and winter. This is not a mere poetic conception ; it is a fact which you can turn to the most practical account. The morn- ing of each day is the image on a small scale of your lost youth which you would fain bring back. Seek, therefore, to do on the small stage of the early morn- ing hours what you ought to have done on the larger stage of your whole mis>pent youth. Lay bare your heart to the dew of God's grace, and to the pure fresh air and clear peaceful light of God's love. Hear the voice of your great Prophet and King who loved you and gave Himself for you, and who in the spring of the day is awakening you from the deep sleep of sin and calling you to arise and follow Him. And assuredly if you do this. He will give you the blessed anointing of grace, restore to you the briuhtness of your youth, and bring you crowned and blessed in the end to His own everlast- ing kingdom. — Hugh Macmillan, The Spring of the Day, p. 9. JONATHAN'S VICTORY ' There is no restraint to the Lord to save by many or by few.' — I Samuel xiv. 6. Two years had passed since Saul came to the throne, and the Philistines were harassing the Israelites at every turn ; Saul, therefore, determines to gather together a force and disperse them. He chooses 3000 men of Israel — 1000 are placed under the com- mand of Jonathan, and the remaining 2000 are led into the field by Saul himself. Jonathan, we read, marched his meii against Geba and smote the Phili- stine garrison there. This gives rise to an immense army of Philistines coming together from every part to fight against Israel. Well might Saul and the people feel dismayed when they had to face 30,000 chariots, 6000 horsemen, and soldiers like the sand upon the shore for multitude. It seemed as if Saul and his little army would be swept off the face of the earth. There seems no hope. The Israelites go and hide themselves in the caves, and thickets, and rocks : I can well imagine the scene. The country north of Jeiusalem, about Bethhoron, is very rugged and mountainous ; one gorge leads into another, and the hill-sides abound in holes and caves. Here in these rocky fastnesses even the huge army of the Philistine would be at a disadvantage, and the Israelites are, for the time being, comparatively safe. But Jonathan isn't satisfietl to leave them alone. His warlike spirit leads him on to strike a decisive blow, and in the narrative before us we see him and his armour-bearer as they arrange to go together against the great rocky garrison of the I'liilistines at Michmash. Jonathan has always seemed to me the very pattern of a noble soldier, of a man who knew not what it was to fear ; of a man who had a most earnest trust and confidence in his God. Perhaps, of all others, he reminds us of General Gordon ; Jonathan was a true friend, a stern warrior, a loving son, a God-fearing man. His life was one without fear and without reproach. No one could accuse him of insincerity. He lived, as far as he was able, a straightforward, manly life. And so we see the two warriors ks they pass along one of the rocky gorges towards jMichmash. They leave on the one hand the shining rock of Bozez, on the other the rocky height of Seneh, probably so called because of an acacia on its summit. They go forward up the ravine with the name of God upon their lips, the thought of God in their heart, and as they go they remember ' there is no restraint to the Lord to save by many or by few,' and they are comforted. They seek a sign, and the sign is given by the foe. The Philistines see them approaching, and immediately begin to jeer at them and to say, 'Come up'. Therefore Jonathan presses forward and begins the slaughter. One after another the Philistines fall before his prowess, and the whole garrison is dis- mayed. The rocky nature of the ground would no doubt prevent more than a few attacking him at once, and so man after man is slain. Soon a panic rises amongst the others in the garrison, and they begin to be afraid. Then the earth trembles beneath their feet, and their fear becomes changed to terror and dismay ; the very elements are fighting against them. The unseen God of the Israelites is working on behalf of His people, and so the flight commences. They turn and slay one another, and the rout is complete, and as we know is followed up by Saul and the people. What then was the cause of this wonder- ful defeat? Surely the Lord was with His people, and it matters not to Him whether he saves by many or by few. Jonathan, with the Lord of Hosts, is stronger than all the thousands of the Philistines. I. Now I want to ajiply this story to your lives this morning. Let us see how far we are going for- ward against the enemy ; how far we, like Jonathan, are going forth to the conflict relying upon God's 140 Ver, 6. 1 SAMUEL XIV., XVI presence and help ! Each one of us, with God with us, can withstand the world. Do we realise it ? If we do, our lives must show the result : — Strong in the Lord of Hosts, And ill His mighty power ! Who in the strength of Jesus trusts, Is more than Conciueror. How far, then, is our life a conquering life ? Only so far as we, like Jonathan, look to God, and say, The Lord will work for us. We cannot win the victory, God must win it for vis. It will be helpful, then, to •see how iar we are like Jonathan, and how far unlike him. We are surrounded in our lines by temptation and difficulty, we have continually to come in contact with those who are in heart and life utterly regardless of God or of Christ. Many a time in our lives we have to decide whether we will serve Christ truly and suffer for His sake, or dishonour Him by denying our faith. Yes, over and over again have we to face this position, and there is no time that makes us feel more what cowards \\^ really are. II. Cowardice is a very real temptation to all of us. It is so easy to go with the stream. A dead fish can float with the current, it takes a live fish to stem it ; and so we can drift with the cmrent if we will, and deny our Master and Saviour. Some little time ago I made the acquaintance of a fellow who shortly afterwards enlisted. He was anxious to be a true follower of Christ, but when I went down to the banacks to see him he said, ' No, sir, I can't be a Christian here outwardly. I can't say my prayers in the barrack dormitory. There is only one fellow in the whole barracks who professes to be a Christian. I don't know what wouldn't happen if I was to openly follow Christ.' So I pointed him to the twenty- seventh chapter of St. Matthew, and said, ' Well, you and I will never have to suffer anything like what Christ suffered for us. We shall never have to be scourged, beaten, spat on, insulted, mocked, despised. Jesus endured these things for us, and yet we hesitate to endure a little for Him. Yes, old man, when we have to face a great temptation or difficulty, let us remember how gieat were the difficulties which our Lord went through, how real were the troubles which beset His eai'thly path. And as we remember this, let us be ready to endure a little hardness for His sake, to endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ.' He thought a bit, and then he saw I was right, and I really believe he got on better afterwards. We want to be so in earnest about our religion that, come what may, there may always be not only the resolve, but also the absolute practice of following the right. We often are much inflLienced by our surroundings, we are led by the opinions of others instead of being guided in all things by God's will. We are influenced bv some friend to do that which is nothing more nor less than the violation of our consciences. Now, will all you fellows this morning consider with me an old motto ? It is above the fire- place of an old manor-house, somewhere in the North of England. It is a motto which, if you will follow it out to its just conclusion, will enable 3'ou to stand firm under any circuuistances, to overcome all temp- tation, I care not what it be, to surmount every diffi- culty w'hether great or small. It is this : ' They sav — What do they say ? Let them say ! ' Its moral is a simple one. Whenever you and I know a thing to be right we must do it, whatever others may say, and however hard they may try to prevent us. Yes, if we do this we shall l)e able to endure hardness as good soldiers, we shall understand the happiness of living a true life. If others go the wrong way, we at any rate need not go with them. If others fall into sin, God will hold us up if we trust in Him. But now I can well understand that many of you here this morning can look back on just the opposite of this. You iiave had failure over and over again, you have sinned in thought, word and deed against your Heavenly Father. Yes, but if we have sinned there is a Mediator between God and man, even Jesus Christ, and as you and I look up to Him to-day, there is remission for the sins that are past. His blood has been shed to cleanse you of those sins of the past, and as you look up to the cross this morning, you can see written in golden letters above it the word Forgiveness. Yes, ' we have reilemption through His blood, even the forgiveness of sins ' — so that God gives us a new start, and sends us forth with the past blotted out. And then there is the life which is be- fore us. Think you that the arm of God is shortened, and that He will ever fail you — ah, no ! 'I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, and will say unto thee. Fear not, for I will help thee.' Yes, we have His presence with us, ' There is no restraint to the Lord to save by many or by few '. He is able to make me, like Jonathan of old, prevail over all the hosts of the enemy. Oh that we may all realise this and go forward as good Christian soldiers, to fight manfully under Christ's banner against sin, the world and the devil 1 DAVID'S CHILDHOOD ; OR, THE BRAVE BOY. I Samuel xvi. Our subject to-day is about David, when David was a boy. We will not think about David and the giant to-day, we will only think about David as a child ; another time we will think about David slaying the giant. Joseph was a faithful boy ; Samuel was a useful boy ; David was a brave boy. What are you ? — a faithful boy ? a useful boy ? a brave boy ? There is an old picture. It is the picture of a Christian. In the picture there are three figures. One is a boy, and he has got a book in his hand, and he says, ' I learn ! ' The next is a boy, and he has got a spade in his hand, and he says, ' I work I ' The third is a boy, and he has got a sword in his hand, and he says, ' I fight ! ' I learn ; I work ; I fight. Which are you saying of the three ? — I learn ? I work ? I fight ? I do not think you could guess how many times Ul 1 SAMUEL XVI the name 'David ' occurs in the Bible. How many times do you think ? Three hundred and twenty-four. Three hundred and twenty-four times in the Bible there is the name of David. Do you know what the name ' David ' means ? It means ' darling '. Perhaps he was called ' The Dar- ling' because he was the youngest. He had nine brothel's and sisters. He had seven brothers and two sisters. I should like you to know the name of one of his sisters, because I think a great many people make a mistake about it One of his sisters was Zeruiah. I think most boys and girls think Zeruiah ■was a man. But Zeruiah was the mother of those three great captains of David — Abishai, Joab, and Asahel. She was the sister of David. David had a pious mother. How do I know that ? Can anybody tell me why I say that David had a pious mother ? You can look at the 116th Psalm. That is the only place I know of where we could tell that David had a pious mother. The sixteenth verse : ' O Lord, truly I am Thy servant ; I am Thy servant, and the son of Thy handmaid '. His mother was called the Lord's ' handmaid '. Then his mother was a good woman. He had a pious mother. Should you like to know the name of his grandfather ? It was Obed. Or the name of his gi'eat-grandmother ? for that is more important. Who do you think she was ? Ruth. Ruth was his great-grandmother ; Ohed was his grandfather ; and Jesse was his father. Can you remember this ? Who was his father ? 'Jesse.' Who was his grandfather ? 'Obed.' Who was his great-grandmother? 'Ruth.' How many brothers had he ? ' Seven.' How many sisters ? 'Two.' Was he the youngest ? Yes; therefore he was ' the darling '. I dare say, nay, I feel quite sure, that David very often thought of his dear mother, as I hope you all think of your dear mothers. There was once a man who loved his mother, the Rev. Mr. Cecil, and he said all his life long it alwa\s did him good to say, ' My mother ! ' If anybody came to ask him to do anything naughty, he said, ' My mother ! ' If unhappy, he said, ' My mother ! ' It would do you all good sometimes to think of your mothers. Do not allow anything that you would not like your mother to know of, or your mother to see. ' My mother ! ' David was born at Bethlehem. The oldest name for Bethlehem was (do you know?) Ephratah, and therefore it was sometimes called ' Bethlehem-Ephra- tah '. Afterwards the second name was dropped, except in poetry ; it was called ' Bethlehem in Judah '. It was a small place then. Do you know that when David was an old man, he used to think about Bethlehem ? And once he thought of a well of water there, and wanted to get some of it ; he looked back and thought of the time when he was a little bov ; and he thought about some water that was near the gate of Bethlehem, and he said, 'Oli, that I now could have a little water out of the well near where I w'as born, out of the well of Bethlehem ! ' When you get to be an old man, by and by, in twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty years' time, perhaps you will think about Brighton, and you will say, 'I remember where I used to live when a little boy, or girl ' ; and perhaps you will think about the things we are thinking of now. I wonder whether you will ever want some of the water you had when a little child. Perhaps you will say, ' I remember there was some nice water in Brighton '. Oh, I wish I could think that you would sa}', ' There used to be some nice water at the Children's Services. I wish I could have now some of the water I used to have in Christ Church, at the Children's Service.' What 'water' do you mean ? Not water to drink ; but some other water, ' the water of life '. ' Oh that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, that is by the gate.' David's mighty men broke thi'ough the host ot the Philistines in order to get it for him ; and David then said, ' I \.on't touch it, because these three men have run the risk of being killed to get it for me. I will not taste of this water '. So ' he would not drink thereof, but poured it out unto the Lord '. Would you like to know what sort of a boy David was ? Do you think he was tall or short ? He was short. Do you think he was pretty ? Very, very. Shall I tell you what sort of a boy he was ? He had got very red cheeks, and he had auburn hair, and very soft eyes, very pretty eyes ; but he was not tall. He was very nice-looking. I am sure he was nice. Now, what do you care for when you look at a pretty boy or girl ? Do you care whether they have a pi-etty nose, or a pretty chin ? I wish to see whether they look kind, clever, thoughtful, wise. That is true beauty. I do not think Jesus had a pretty face, but when men looked at Jesus' face, it always seemed so kind and good. Do you think a boy or girl can be called good or bad by looking at the face ? Let me see, can I tell whether you are good ? I can a little. I will tell you what ; there is a book written by a great man, called Lavater Upon Faces ; and he tells a great many stories. I advise you to read that book some day. This is one of the stories he tells in that book. He says, ' There was a boy, and he was going to school for the first time, and when he said " good- bye " to his papa, his papa looked at his face and said, " My boy, all I ask of you is, when you come home from school for the holidays, bring back that face with you " '. I hope many of you will keep that face you now have. If you are naughty, you will lose that face, your face will change ; but if you would keep an open countenance, be good, try to do your duty, and then you will always keep a good face. If I see you when you are big, when you are twenty, I hope I shall see that faca I do not know whether you have ever read about a great painter, who went to Paris, and he said, ' I want to see the prettiest child in Paris, that I may paint a picture of him'. They found for him a 142 1 SAMUEL XVI beautiful baby, and he painted the baby. A great many ytai's afterwards he came again to Paris, and he said, ' Now I want quite a different thing, I want you to sliow me the ugliest, most disagreeable man in all I'aris. Show me the ugliest man in Paris.' They said to him, ' You must come to the prison, then, and you will there find the ugliest man '. He said, ' Show me the ugliest man in the prison '. They took him to a prison in Paris, and showed him a horrid, ugly, dreadful-looking man, and he painted him ; when, lo and behold ! he found out that he was the same as the little pretty baby he had painted years before. He had grown up to be such an ugly man — he had led such a wicked life. So the pretty baby became an ugly man ! You will look ugly if you become proud, dishonest, untrue. You will no longer look like a pretty wax- doll ; but you will get perfectly ugly. I am sure you will not keep a pretty face if you do naughty things. This was David, then, when he was a boy. And his business was to keep his father's sheep. I sup- pose that is one reason why we find so much about sheep and shepherds in the book he wrote. What book did he write ? ' The Psalms.' He says, in the 2;ird Psalm, ' The Lord is my Shepherd ' ; then, in the 119th, ' I have gone astray like a lost sheep '. It was not considered a very honourable thing to be a shepherd. I believe, generally, the lowest servant kept the sheep. David did not mean that. It was his duty to do it. Do \ou know that in ancient Rome there was a Temple of Honour ? and the only way to go into that Temple of Honour was through the Temple of Virtue ! Will you always remember that. Under- stand and remember it. I will repeat it to you. 'The only way to the Temple of Honour is through the Temple of Virtue!' The way to rise in life, to be really great, is to do your duty, from love to God. Then you cannot go very wi'ong. I have read of a member of Parliament. A proud, silly man said to him, ' I know what you were when vou were a boy. You cleaned my father's boots.' The member of Parliament replied, 'Yes, I did ; and I tell you what — 7 cleaned them well ! ' That was a true gentleman's answer. That was a fine fellow's answer : ' I did clean your father's boots, and I cleaned them well'. So he rose to be a member of Parlia- ment— a great man. He entered the Temple of Honour through the Temple of Virtue. So we first read of David being a poor shepherd boy, and afterwards he went up to his throne. When David was ' keeping the sheep,' a sad thing happened. 'There came a lion, and a bear' — will you look at the passage ? It occurs where David was going to fight with Goliath (1 Sam. xvii. 34) : ' And David said unto Saul, Thy servant kept his father's sheep, and there came a lion, and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock : and I went out after him, and smote him, and delivered it out of his mouth ; and when he arose against me, I caught him by his 1 beard, and smote him, and slew him. Thy servant slew both the lion and the bear.' I cannot quite make out how it was — can you ? — whether the lion and the bear came together, and together took hold of one of the lambs ; or whether, as some people think, it was once a lion, and at another time a hear, which came and took away each a lamb ; or whether it was that the bear took him away, and then the lion came and took it out of the bear's paws. I cannot quite make it out — can you ? Somehow or other the lion and the bear once took a lamb, and David slew them both. It was very courageous ! Fancy a lion coming to you now — with one blow of his paw he could kill you ! and then a bear, which would hug you so ! I knew a young lady who was once hugged by a bear. Near where she lived, in Somersetshire, there was a park, belonging to Ashburnham Court ; and in the park there was a kennel, and she came there to sketch, and, thinking the kennel was empty, she put her drawing materials upon the kennel. She had no sooner placed them there, than there came out of the kennel a great bear, and hugged her ; he took her in his arms and closely squeezed her. In God's great Providence, however, one of Sir John Smith's game- keepers, who was close by, came up, and with the butt-end of his gun he managed to make the bear let go of the young lady, and so she escaped. But it was a very narrow escape. So there was very great danger to little David to see this great lion and bear coming out against him. Should not you be afraid ? You need not fear. A little girl once said, ' Fear ! — who ever saw it ? ' ' What does fear look like ? ' said a boy. Can you all say that ? A poor woman once lived in a foreign town. She had a son. When the enemy was coming into the town, he was much frightened, and wondered what they should do. 'They will come into our house,' said he. ' Don't you be afraid,' said his mother, 'God has promised to be a "wall of defence" to us.' The boy said, ' A wall of defence ? What does that mean ? How can it be ? ' 'A wall to defend our house,' his mother replied. The boy was very much frightened. The soldiere came on in the night and killed a great many people, and there was much trouble in the city ; but nobody came near this widow- woman's house. They did not hear a groin, and could not make out how it was that they did not hear the soldiers passing. How tlo you think it was ? In the night God sent a tremendous shower of snow ; and the snow drifted, and made such a drift that it got all round the poor woman's house, so that the soldiers in passing could not see the cottage. Thus God answered the widow's prayer, and gave a ' wall of defence ' of snow, so that she escaped. So David was not the prey of the lion and the bear. Now I must tell you a little more about David. Do you know he could run very well, and he could leap very well, and he could shoot very well, and he could play music very well ? ' How do I know this ? ' 48 1 SAMUEL XVI you may say. 'Did I ever see it in the Bible?' Look at the eighteenth Psahn, verses 33 and 34 : ' He maketh my feet like hinds' feet ' — he could run like a deer or a goat — ' and setteth me upon my high places '. He could climb, get upon a mountain, stand in high places. ' He teacheth my hands to war, so that a bow of steel is broken by mine arms.' He could draw a bow all of i)on. Not many persons could use one ; and he could break a bow in pieces, though made of iron ! He could do everything well. I do not like boys and girls who only think about their books. They must think about being good runners, good leapere. A Clu'istian should do every- thing well, and let people see that he can do so. Can you leap well ? Can you run well ? Can you climb well ? Can you pull a bow ? David could. And he was also very musical. When Saul, the king, was very miserable — in a bad state of body and in a bad state of mind — then he wanted some one to come and play before him. And they sent to him David, the shepherd-boy, and he played before the king, and it awed the king. He could play music, and he used his music well. Ai'e you musical ? I hope you are. If you have any music m you, use it well. You can make others happy. That is the reason why young ladies at school should learn the piano, or ought to learn it, because it can make others happy, influence others. Use it in God's service. This is the only reason why any girl should learn the piano. She ought not to learn it without having it in her mind, ' Now I can use this music to make others happy '. Luther, the great Reformer, loved music. He said he owed a great deal to music. When tired, music refreshed him. Good music keeps the temper right. I wonder whether all the people who play the piano, or sing, always have good tempers. It certainly does a great deal of good if you can turn your music to good uses. Go and play to a poor sick person, and so make poor people happy. Music is a wonderful thing. Music will often put good thoughts into our tninds, and take away the bad ones. I will tell you a strange thing that happened. I think it was in India. There was a party sitting at dinner. Amongst them was a young lady. Whilst she was sitting at the dinner-table, and all the guests were looking at her, a great snake came in, and be- gan to wind itself all around her. She was ten-ibly frightened. A gentleman who understood the.s'e creatures, a wise man, said, ' Do not be alarmed ; keep quite quiet ; don't be afraid '. And he went to the piano and began to play upon the instrument. As he did so, the snake untwined itself from the lady and went away. This is quite true. The snake was fascinated by the music. You can do almost any- thing by music with a snake. Here was a snake, through the gentleman playing, uncoilinsi itself, soins away, and doing no harm to anyone. I will tell 3'ou what — we have sometimes a very bad serjietit twining itself around us. I mean the old serpent, the devil. He gets into our hearts ; and perhaps, if we sing a hymn, and so praise God in our music, and turn our music to good accoimt, he will go. Try and get rid of a seipent by being musical. One more thing about David. One day there was a sacrifice in Bethlehem, where David lived, and if you had been there that day you would have seen a strange sight ; you would have seen the great man of the day, the greatest — Samuel, the great prophet. You would have seen him coming down to Bethlehem, driving a heifer. God had told him to do it, to offer it up in sacrifice. And when he came to the town, he called the chief person of the village and Jesse to the sacrifice, and he said to Jtsse, ' I am come to see your sons. God hath sent me.' Then ' Jesse made his sons to pass before Samuel '. First Eliab, then Abinadab, then Shammah. They were very tall, fine-looking men, and Samuel said, ' These won't do. God will not look upon the outward appearance, but on the heart. Have you anybody else ? ' ' Yes,' said Jesse, ' I have the youngest, the darling, David.' 'Send for him,' said Samuel. So they sent for him. When David came, Samuel said, ' This is the one that God hath chosen. He is to be king.' ' Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the midst of his brethren,' to be king ; but not then — by and by. So God chose David to be king. Now, I want to ask you a very important question. Does God choose us, or do we choose God ? I want everybody to think. This is one of the thinking questions. Does God choose us, or do we choose Him ? I wish you to tell me. Which comes fii-st ? God chooses us first, and then He puts it into our hearts to choose Him. It all begins with God. God chooses us. This is very wonderful. Now, you know these are very deep things we are talking about — about God choosing us. It is a very difl'icult subject. I will tell you about a friend of mine. He was a doctor in London. His name was Mr. Merryman. He had a large Bible-class of young men, and he lived near Hyde Park. One day one of the young men went to him, and said, ' I want you to explain to me, sir, all about election ' — that is, about God choosing us, for that is what it means. Mr. Merry- man did not appear to take any notice of the question, but went on talking to the young man about other things. At last he said to him, ' John, have you been bathing lately ?' ' Yes, sir,' was the reply. 'Where?' ' In the Serpentine.' ' I suppose, John, you go into the water down by the mill ? ' ' No, sir ; it is too deep water for me there. I never bathe in deep water.' Mr. MeiTyman said, ' Now, John, do with your religion as with your bathing. Never go into waters too deep for you.' Do you understand ? — thoughts too deep for us, too deep for the oldest and wisest men that have ever lived ! There are many things we cannot understand. We must be very careful about these. It is very comforting that God first chooses us. I wonder whether he has chosen you ? You are born 144 Ver. 7. 1 SAMUEL XVI Ver. 7. in England- — happy country ! You have been bap- tised ; you go to religious schools ; you have many privileges and blessings. Do you think God hiis chosen you ? I vi'onder whether He has chosen you to be His child ? There was an old woman who said rather a funny thing ; but there was a great deal of truth in it. She said, ' I think God must have chosen me before I was born, for He never would have chosen me afterwards '. There is some tioith in that remark ; but it is a very deep and delicate subject. Only this we know — if, at the last great day, when Jesus comes, He places you on His right hand — where I hope you will all he, at God's right hand — then this is what He will say to you : ' How did you come here ? ' You will have to say, ' God chose me. I did not deserve it. God chose me. It was His love and favour all along. I was a poor miserable sinner ; but Jesus did it all. It was all God's love.' If you are on the left hand — God forbid it ! I hope nobody here will be on the left hand when Jesus conies. If so, and anybody says, ' Why are you here ? ' you cannot sav, ' Because God did not choose me,' but, ' When told to be good, I would not. I would not obey my conscience. I would not come when God called nie. I- wilfully, of my own wicked self, went wrong. I would do wrong. So I am here on the left hand.' On God's side it is all choosing love. And on ours, can vou think what it is ? Is it ail love there ? These are deep subjects. But I like to think, ' Secret things belong unto the Lord our God ; but those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our ciiildren for ever '. — J. Vaughan, Sermons to Children (5th Series), p. 1. GOD'S CHOICE ' But the Lord said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature ; because I have refused him : for the Lord seeth not as man seeth ; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.' — i Samuel xvi. 7. The Heart Deceitful. — In one place God has said, ' The heart is deceitful above all things, and desper- ately wicked '. Deceitful, what does that mean ? To pretend to be what you are not, and for no good purpose, is it not? The heart is so deceitful, that we actually deceive ourselves sometimes, and we don't think we are so wicked as we are. How deceitful we are in little things sometimes, or in what we call little things. Let us take another example. Your governess or your master goes out of th; o in, and you commence playing and talking. Oh, what a buzz there is directly ! the room is like a bee-hive, only bees buzz over their work, and you buzz over your play ; and presently a footstep is heard, and the door opens, and then you are all as quiet as mice, pretending th;it you have been working hard all the time ; and if the deception is succe.sstul, master or mistress thinks what good children you are. What does God think about it ? His eye has never left the room. He has been present all the time. Has He seen you guilty sometimes? We kneel down in church, and those sitting near think what nice devotional young people we are, and how earnestly we are praying. God may know that, although our heads are buried in our hands, we are thinking about all sorts of things, and that there is not one earnest thought going up to the throne of gi'ace. How frequently we sin and mock God on our knees. We sav our prayers at night. Do we mean anything by them ? Do we desire God to answer them ? You have said ' the Lord's Prayer' ever since you can remember. You pray in it, ' Thy kingdom come '. Are you ready for ' Christ's kingdom ' to come ? If Jesus were to answer your prayer, and come to reign, have you on the ' wedding garment ' to reign with Him ? Do you want His kingdom to begin in your own heart ? Ai-e you reallv willing that He should set up His throne there, and reign there altogether ? or are you still wanting to have your own way, and go on doing as you like ? If you are not prepared for His coming in any sense, how can you pray ' Thy kingdom come ' ? Again, ' Forgive us our trespasses '. How ? 'As we forgive them that trespass against us.' Is that really the way you want God to foigive you your trespasses? Do you forgive your bi'others and sisters freely, and all your young friends and your enemies? Do you forgive them all from your heart, and with all your heart ? or are there any who have said naughty things, or told stories about you, or done something to hurt you, and you have not quite forgiven them ? You will be lost if God only for- gives you in the same way. Don't mock God on your knees. God hears the words, but He looks into the heart. ' She is Rotten Still.' — One day I went off to a large ship which had anchored in our roadstead to .seek an opportunity of holding service with the crew. She was lying a long way out, and we had a long sail to get to her. As we neared her we saw that her back had been broken, and my first impression was, 'What a dirty, rotten-looking thing, and what a name for such a ship '. She was called after a great philanthropist, who might have wept to have seen his name on such a ship. As I stepped on he; deck, I saw evidence that a great deal of pumping had been going on. I saw the officer in charge, and found that the men had mutinied, and were not at work, but the mate added, ' We are keeping them on short allowance, which will soon bring them to their senses '. I went into the dirtiest of forecastles, where I found the men in a miserable condition, and not very amiable. After a little while, however, I suc- ceeded in praying with them about their trouble and themselves, and gave theui an address. They were v^^ry attentive, and begged me to come again. I found whilst on board, that the ship had been pumped across the Atlantic, sometimes by an old 145 10 Ver. 12. 1 SAMUEL XVI Ver. 12. farm engine placed on the deck, and when that would not work, by the men ; and that these poor sailors refused to pump this rotten thing any further. When we went off to her again, about three davs afterwards, we found she had been painted all rou id on the out- side, and was now looking very clean, I said with a laugh to my Scripture reader, 'She looks better now '. ' Yes, sir, she does,' he replied ; ' but she wanted carpenters, not painters ; in fact, she is too bad to repair. But we will soon see what paint will do.' So saying he took his knife out of his pocket, and ran it into her side. ' There, sii', the rotten timber is there all the same notwithstanding the paint ; she is rotten still.' We talk of doing better, and turning over new ,eaves. A\'hat are they like ? Only like the coat of paint on the ship. We go to church, and make out to be Christians, and it is only like painting that .^hip ; the rotten timber is left behind. AVe are 'rotten still,' and it is no use trying to patch our- selves up. We want a new heart, and not the sin- stained, deceitful heart painted by outward forms and sham religiousness. Sometimes we are like the ship ; we have a good name, but it is all a sham. Are you not sadly disappointed sometimes when you buy a beautiful rosy apple, and find it all rotten inside? You would not have bought it if you could have seen inside, would you ? God looks inside, and He refuses us, and our praise, and our work, if the heart is not right. That ship was no safer because she was painted. A landsman would not have gone as a passenger in her before she was painted, but he might have done so afterwards. So sometimes we are doing more harm by professing to be Christians if we are not ; others copy us, and are led into the same danger. As God looks into your heart now what does He see ? A desire to give up yourself to Him entirely. Is that it ? Do you want to be a true Christian — a real servant and child of God — to know what real and true happiness is? Are you willing that God :^hould take \our sins away in the blood of His own dear Son ? God is far more willing to do it than you are to have it done ; more willing to forgive you than you are to be forgiven ; more anxious about you by far than you are, or ever can be. Kneel down and confess your sins to Him. Tell Him how de- ceitful your heart is, and that you would like Him to wash it white, and forgive you all. Go to Him at once, 'to whom the secrets of all heaiis are open, from whom nothing is hid,' and He has promised — ' A new heart will I give you '. — J. Stephens, Living Water for Little Pitchers, p. 76. DAVID 'Arise, anoint him: for this is he.' — i Samuel xvi. 12. A MAGIC charm lingers round the life of the son of Jesse — a charm which is all its own. I. First, David is one of those few characters in the Bible which are presented to us as a historic whole ; we gain an insight into a life from its be- ginning to its end, a life worked out and laid bare from the ci'adle to the grave. It is the history of a complete human life. n. But the special interest with which the life of David is invested does not end here. It is not only its completeness but its poetic character which arrests the reader. It possesses all those elements of vicissi- tude and adventure which attract us even in fiction, but which, when met with in real life, fascinate and enthral. The life of David is at once an epic and an idyl. The shepherd boy made favourite, warrior, statesman, poet, king — ^it is a transmutation which loses none of its attraction, nay, which gains immeasurably in inten.sity and power, when we I'emember that he was a man after God's own heart ; it is a romance of real life which charms our childhood, lends wings of aspira- tion to our boyhood, gives strength to our manhood and solemnity to old age ; and perhaps a more human interest is added to the story when we find that a life consecrated to God was not untouched by the human frailties which encompassed it, nay, was even embittered and poisoned by the breath of sin and shame. Behold him, then, the shepherd boy, lying in the highlands of Bethlehem, gazing up at the stars, those nightly sentinels which kept solitary watch with him, and far beyond into the overarching canopy of blue infinitude in which those glowing worlds were set. What waking dreams can we imagine this lonely boy to have dreamt ; what floods of fancies poured over his soul I All had voices for him, and all spoke of God. ' One day telleth another, and one night certifieth another. Their sound is gone out into all lands, and their words into the ends of the world.' And as the faint gi'ey streak of morning broke upon the everlastmg hills, he saw the sun come forth 'like a bridegroom out of his chamber,' making rainbows of the mountain-brooks, and scattering dowers of gold on the awakening earth. And, lonely in space but not in spirit, he dwelt with the great Creator, and learnt on those solitary uplands (we cannot doubt it) those spiritual impulses which quickened and deepened his after life. III. But I hasten on to touch briefly on another aspect of David's life — his friendship with Jonathan. ' Pleasant hast thou been to me, my brother Jona- than : thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.' I call this a landmark, for it was the arousal of a new feeling ; and if there is much of an epic in David's career, here, I think, we niay venture to trace an idyllic touch. After a home existence in which he finds seemingly nothing but uncongenial society, unrecognised ideas, he starts as it were here into a new life ; the spontaneous activities of a heart yearning for affection are suddenly wakened into being by the discovery of corresponding sympathies in another, and love burns with an intenser and purer flame, because hitherto it has been denied access and air. 14(j V^er. 12. 1 SAMUEL XVI Ver. 23. Now, this is no new experience. There is no form of human suffering more common, more intense, and refined and nameless in its agony, and more injurious to the moral fibre of the sufferer, than that of being misunderstood ; and as long as tact, that Divine com- bination of head and heart in which all the virtues meet, remains a rare jewel in the world, as long as human sympathies are cramped in extent and warped in their expression, as long as men have coarse souls, so long will such suffering rank among the most tragic and yet common of earthly burdens. But the mutual love of David and Jonathan was of that tender kind which defies analysis, but which rests on the only basis on which the highe.st love of any kind can ultimately depend — the almost passionate desire for each other's highest good. Cherish, then, the friendships of your school days as peculiar gifts which God has granted to you on whom the grip of the world and of worldly things has not yet fastened. Feelings gain perhaps in depth and force, but not in freshness or width of sympathy, as we grow in years ; and' the seared heart of the man beats once again with renewed youth, the pulse is stirred again to the long-buried emotion, as he clasps again the hand of an early friend, and the tender memories of a day long dead wake into life at the sound of the well-nigh forgotten voice. One more scene in David's life and I have done. I )iass over all the dangers from secret or open foe, all the wanderings amid the fastnesses and rocks of his future kingdom by the proscribed exile; I turn over the pages which mark him as a king, the death of Saul, the overthrow of rebellion, the assurance of liis empire, till I jmuse at that chapter where, after his one great sin, God strikes him down, and he sits by the body of his dead child, and utters that cry of resignation, ' I shall go to him, but he shall not re- turn to me '. David as a mourner. I do not ask you to regard the sorrow as the result of sin. Suffering is not always, though it was in David's case, the result of sin ; very often it stands quite apart, arising from causes utterly beyond our own control, and evidencing the mysterious ways in which God deals with the great human family whose destinies are hid in His eternal, all-seeing mind from the beginning of the world. Sometimes the shadow that waits for all men knocks at the door of a fair young life, as it did to David's dead child, and we must go, whether we be ready or unready. As we fall on our knees this night, let us pray God to make us ready, that when the summons comes, be it in the first or in the second watch, or in the third, it may find us waiting for the Master's call ; and if so be that before us some one near and dear to us has been taken to his rest, we may cry vnth David, with a subdued voice of resigna- tion, not a wailing of despair, ' I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me'. — H. B. Gr.\y, Modern Laodiceans, p. 114. THE FUNCTION OF CHILDREN ' And it came to pass when the spirit from God vyas upon Saul, that David took a harp, and played vi^ith his hand ; so Saul was refreshed, and was well, and the evil spirit de- parted from him.' — i Samuel xvi. 23. This is the function of children, the main use they are of, the purpose they serve and are intended to serve : they renew the youth of the world. They bring courage, cheerfulness, hope, love, to hearts that are growing weary and sad, or that might grow wear)' and sad and selfish but for them. And I do not know where we could find a better illustration of this function than in the story of which my text forms part. God intends you children, rach one of you, to do for your parents and friends what David did for Saul. King Saul had grown weary of the world The toils and cares of ruK', of war, and, above all, the memory of his own faults and sins, had made him moody and melancholy, and at times drove him almost, if not altogether, mad. In his fierce danger- ous moods he hardly knew, or cared, what he did. And to this tall, swarthy, stalwart man, this moody, passionate, dangerous king, there comes a lad, short in stature, slender in form, with fair hair, large beautiful eyes, and a ruddy countenance (1 Sam. xvi. 12 ; XVII. 42) ; a lad so bright and comely that the sacred historian lingers admiringly on every feature of his person. This bright comely David, or ' Darling ' — for that is what the word ' David ' means — comes into the King's tent, with a rustic harp in his hand, a hai-p which he had made, or at least had learned to play, while he kept his father's sheep, and sings to him the sweetest songs — songs of pastoral life, songs of war and triumph, songs about the care and love of God — till he wakens some responsive chords in the fierce King's breast, and calls him back from the wild lawless heats of passion, to the order, and calm, and peace of pure and innocent thoughts, of a firm and steadfast will. David plays with his hand, and Saul is refreshed and well. I. David did his work very thoroughly, although it was very lowly work for him to do. His father, Jesse, was the chief man, and judge, of the village of Bethlehem. His brothers, most of whom seem to have been a good deal older than he was, were men of some consideration — great tall fellows, very quick with their hands, likely men to make good soldiers and to win honour. But David, though he was called the Darling, was treated rather scurvily, I think ; his very father treating him more like a servant than a son. He was set to keep sheep, an office which in his time and country was usually allotted to slaves, or to servants of the lowest class. To be a shepherd was poor work for the .son of a well-to-do and much respected man ; poor work for a bright gifted lad who was worth far more than all his brothers put together. But, poor as it was, David did it well. As he must be a shepherd, he resolved to be a good shepherd. He was a good shepherd, and was ready to lay down 147 Ver. 23. 1 SAMUEL XVI., XVII his very life for the sheep. He had oiten to use his sling and stone against birds and beasts of prey. And once, as we know, while still a mere lad, he fought a lion and a bear who came down from the hills, or up from the thickets of the Jordan, to harry his flock. And all work is good work, so that it be well done. It matters very httle what we do, if it be our duty to do it ; but it matters very much how we do it. Most of you have some work to do ; girls in help- ing their mothers about the house — at least I hope your mothers are wise enough to teach you house- tvork : boys, some of you at least, in earning your own livelihood, and others in school tasks and home tasks. And, no doubt, some of you think the work you have to do beneath you, not good enough or im- portant enough for such clever and promising young people as you are. Perhaps you do it unwillingly, and grumble over it, and think you were cut out for better things. And, perhaps, you were. But if you take your work in that spirit, you are not doing much to make life bright and the world more cheer- ful, whether for others or for youreelves. Whereas, if you do your work heartily and cheerfully, you will not only add to the happiness of those who love you ; you will also fit yourselves for better work, and ■put yourselves in the way of getting it. I have known many a lad rise into the best work he was fit for by doing lower kinds of work diligently and cheerfully ; but I never knew even one who rose by neglecting his work, or despising it, or gi'umbling over it. Do your work well, then, whatever it may be, as well as you can ; and you yourself will be the happier for it, and will help to make the world about you happier and sweeter. Even the Lord Jesus was a carpenter, and spent some years in making ploughs and carts, and the commonest kinds of tables and chairs. That does not seem very fit or dignified work for Him to have had to do. And yet, are you not quite sure that He did it well, that there were no better made chairs and tables, or carts and ploughs than his in all Galilee ? II. While doing his work well, David sought to cultivate and improve himself. It was while he was a sliepherd that he grew so skilful in playing on the harp as to be able to minister to the diseased mind of Saul. It wa.s while a shepherd that he trained himself to discover a beauty in the stars, in the woods, in the fields, in trees and flowers, which after- wards entered so largely into his psalms that men love to read them to this day. And there are few vocations which have not their appropriate avoca- tions : that is to say, there is hardly any kind of work you have to do as a duty which does not train, or does not afford you leisure to train, some faculty or gift by which you may hereafter minister to the welfare or the pleasure of your neighbours. III. Last of all : while David did his work well, and cultivated his gifts diligently, he gave himself to the service of God. It was the Lord whom he served, he said, that delivered him out of the paw of the lion and out of the paw of the bear. What struck the servants of Saul most in him was that ' the Lord was with him '. ' He is very skilful,' they said to the King, ' and very brave, very prudent and very comely : and the Lord is with him.' And, surely, a lad must have been noted for a simple and sincere piety of whom that was the last and chief thing to be said. There are many ways, as you have been hearing, in which you may contribute to the pleasure of your parents and friends, and help to make both their life and your own sweeter and brighter ; but there is no way so good as being good. The one thing they most desire for you, because they know that nothing else will make you so happy and so useful, is that you should love God and serve Him and trust in Him, and let Him save you from sin and danger. — Samuel Cox, The Bird's Nest, p. 99. THE YOUTH AND THE GIANT I Samuel xvii. I ONCE had a servant, and his name was Samuel, and I said to Samuel one day, ' Samuel, do you read your Bible?' Samuel said, 'Yes, sir'. I said, 'Do you read your Bible every day ? ' He said, ' Yes, sir '. I said, ' Did you read your Bible this very day ? ' And he said, ' Yes, sir '. I said, ' What part of the Bible are you reading now ?' He said, ' I always read the same chapter, about David and Goliath'. I think Samuel must have known about David and Goliath very much ! We are going this afternoon to think about David and Goliath. We left David at Bethlehem ; and I think it was very greatly to David's honour, that, though he was anointed to be king, yet he kept on his duty as a shepherd-boy. I have known some boys who say, ' oh, it is beneath me '. I hope no boy or girl will ever say that about anything except what is bad. Nothing is beneath a Christian ! I think there was one of his sheep that David loved more than all the rest of the sheep. Do you know which sheep that was? I think it was the sheep that he had taken from the lion and the bear. Would not you ? If you had fought that great lion and bear and dragged a lamb out of their claws, don't you think you would always have liked that lamb afterwards ? Ah 1 whom does Jesus love best ? The lamb that he has delivered from the lion, the great lion, the roaring lion, the devil ! If there is anybody in the Church whom Jesus has delivered from the roaring lion, Jesus loves that lamb very much. While David was keeping his father's sheep at Bethlehem, there was a great thing going on a few miles off, near to Jerusalem, a place called Ephes- dammim. In this placi there were two mountains, and a valley lay between the two ; and every day, for a great many days, there came down from one of 148 1 SAMUEL XVII the mountains a great giant, and he walked into the valley, and he challenged anybody to come and fight him. The Israelites were on one mountain and the Philistines on the other. This giant c;une down every da}', and said, ' Who will tight me ? ' Now, how tall do you think Goliath was ? He could not have walked under that gallery. If he had tried to walk under that gallery without his helmet on, he would have knocked his head, for he was one foot higher than that gallery ; he was ten feet and a half high. That gallery' is nine feet and a half high. And his helmet was very tall too. He was the greatest giant we ever read of. A very great giant came from China a long time ago ; but Chang was only seven feet eight inches high. In an old book, written by Pliny, an old Roman author, he says in his day there was a wonderful giant, and he was nine feet nine inches high. But Goliath was taller than that, for he was ten feet and a half high. The weight of the coat of mail that he wore was a hundredweight and a half It is difficult to fancy what that is. Could you fancy it ? Did you ever carry one pound of tea or a pound of sugar? If you were to carry 168 pounds of sugar that would be to cany a weight as heavy as Goliath's coat of mail ; nobody could carry it. He had also a great spear and a great sword. He was a terrible fellow I So he came every day and challenged the Israelites — ' Who will fight me ? ' At this time, you know, David was a shepherd-boy, keeping sheep at Bethlehem. One day his father said to him, ' I want you to go and see 3'our brothers, who are with the army fighting with the Philistines. Take them corn and bread, and take their captain some cheese : see how they are, and bring me back their kind messages, and their pledge.' So David — though he was going to be so great a man, going to be a king, and though he was very brave, and very strong, and a fine fellow — yet he did not object to going on a message. He might have said, ' It is not my business ; send some one else '. But though he knew his elder brethren would be very unkind to him, say something cross to him, yet he went. But he was very meek and gentle — like aU brave boys and girls ; they are generally meek and gentle. It is the cowardly ones who are not meek and gentle ; they are always lioisterous ; but the valiant in war are the fondest and truest in love. It is always so. When David came to the army, he talked with the people who were there, and ' left his carriage,' that means, ' the things he was carrying '. It sometimes means ' the thing which carries us ' ; but here, ' what was carried,' as in the fifteenth verse of the twenty-first chapter of the Acts, ' We took up our carriages '. If you were carrying a bundle, that would be ' your carriage'. So David left his parcel, or bundle that he was carrying, and went and spake to the men that stood by him. And Eliab, his eldest brother, heard him speak, and was very unkind to him. He said to him, ' I know that it is only in pride and vanity that you have left those few sheep in the wilderness, and have come down here just to please yourself, and be idle and see the battle I ' But David was too gentle to quarrel. He would fight manfully in his duty, but he would not quarrel. I have read of two old men — I should like to tell you about them ; they had lived together a great many years, and they never had a quarrel. One of the old men said to the other one day, ' Let us try and see if we cannot have a quarrel, just like all other people do. Why not be like everybody else ? ' The other said, ' I do not know how to quaiTel '. The first one said, ' I will put a brick down there, and I will say, " That is my brick," and you shall say, " No, it is mine," and so we will have a pretty quarrel about it.' So he got a brick, and, putting it down before the other old man, he said, ' That is my brick '. The other said, ' No, it is mine '. And then the first one said, ' No, it is mine '. Then the second one said, ' Well, if it is yours, you had better take it ! ' So they could not quarrel. That is the way. David was very meek and gentle, though a brave fellow. He said to the men, ' I will fight that giant'. They all laughed at him — ' You cannot fi'ght him '. But they went and told the king, ' Here is a young fellow who says, " I will fight this great giant " '. And the king sent for David, and he told him he was 'not able ' to fight the giant. But David said he would fight him. Then Saul said, ' Well, you may, if you like.' So he took off' his armour to put on David. But David would not keep on that armour. He said, 'I have not tried it'. Yet David said, 'I will still fight the giant'. What made David so brave ? I want to talk to you about that. I hope you are all wishing we may not have a war with Russia You do not wish a war, do you ? What would become of all the poor children if we did ? I should advise you to pray every day that God will let us have peace, and not war, because war is a dreadful thing! God likes to answer the prayers of children. I don't want you to think, to-day, anything about that war. But there is another war. There was a king of Africa, a long time ago ; he once said to his chiefs, ' I should like to find out the town which first went to war, and if I could find that, I would gather together all my people against that town, because it was the fii"st to go to war '. He was a wise man I am rather surprised that in Africa, where generally they love war, a king should have wanted to destroy the town where first the people began to make war in the world. One of his chiefs said to him, in reply, ' I know the place where war began, but don't think you can take it ; I don't think you can destroy it. I will tell you the place where war began. It was in man's heart. That was where all war began. I am afraid that is a town you cannot take.' So the African king found he could not take the town where war first began. I hope you are all warriors. I want to speak of you as warriors in another war. May I speak to you and call you wan'iors ? Are you warrio''= ' 49 1 SAMUEL XVII Little Frank went up to London to spend some time with his grandpapa, who was very kind to his grandson ; he took him all about London, showed him all the sights, and his grandpapa talked very nicely to him about everything. They walked along till they came to the Horse Guards. At the gates, there are always two great soldiei's on horseback : they are very tall, fine-looking fellows. I have often seen them. They have a coat of steel before their breasts, called a cuirass, and they wear a great brass helmet with white plumes; they have white gloves, and thev sit on black horses. When I was a little boy I was told (and I believed it) that there was only a certain quantity of movement allowed to the horse, and the man on the horse ; and I thought the man was so very kind, for he let the horse have the right to make ail the movement allowed, while he did not even move his little finger. Little Frank was looking at the soldiers on horse- back at the Horse Guards, when his grandpapa said to him, ' Frank, these are wan-iors ! ' PVank thought to himself, ' You need not tell nie that ; I know it '. A little farther off, you know, there is the Ad- miralty. There they saw a man in very large blue trousers, almost big enough for two or three men ; he had got on a black hat, reaching halfway down his neck. He was a sailor just coming out of the Admiralty. His grandpapa said, ' Frank, this is a warrior'. Frank said, ' Yes, I know that; he fights at sea '. A little farther on, they came to Westminster Hall. As they went by, there was a man going in, wearing a black gown, and a large powdered wig, curled all over ; and he was going in very fast. Grandpapa said, ' Frank, that is a warrior'. But he could not understand how this man could be a warrior. But his grandpapa repeated, ' He is a warrior '. They walked a little farther, and there came up, in a nice carriage, to a large house, a well-dressed gentleman ; his servant, who was with him, made great haste to get down from the carriage, and rang the bell of the house-door. The gentleman got out of the cai'riage, and went into the house verv quickly. Frank's grandpapa said to him, 'That is a warrior! ' Frank could not make it out at all. They went on, and there was a church close by, near Westminster Abbey, St. Margai-et's Church. There was an old gentleman there, all dressed in black ; he had a white tie round his neck. The old gentle- man looked very grave, and, as he was going into the church, his grandpapa said, 'Frank, that is a warrior '. Frank could not stand it any longer, and he said to his grandlather, 'Do exjilain to me how these men are all warriore'. 'Well,' he said, 'the man at the Horse Guards is a soldier, a wan-ior ; the man at the Admiralty, he is a sailor, and he is a wanior too. And the man going into Westminster Hall was a lawyei-, and he is a warrior, because he has to defend right and justice, and try to put down all that is wrong and wicked in the world. And the man who got out of the carriage, he was a doctor, and he has to fight against sickness and illness, to keep people from being unwell. The gentleman going into the church, with a black dress and white tie, is a warrior too. Every clergyman is a wairior, because he has to fight against sin and wickedness, and to defend truth, to defend God's honour. These are all war- riors.' Then, turning to Frank, he said, ' Now, Frank, you are a warrior, because you have got to fight a battle '. You are all waniors ; so I speak to you all now and call you so. I want to teach you to fight, and to tell you what you are to fight for. Soldiers, and sailors, and lawyers, and doctors, and clergymen, and boys, and girls, all have to fight. Now, what made David so brave ? What did he say to Saul ? Two things. One was, he recollected how God took care of him with the lion and the bear : so he thought He could take care of him now. He thousiht of the mercies of the past. The next thing- he thought of was this : ' Goliath is God's enemy, the enemy of God's people ; therefore God is on my side. God will fight with me.' So he was not afraid. Those were the two things that made him so brave. So David went, and he took his 'sling' with him. Do you know what sort of ' sling ' it was ? There are different sorts. It may be made of a thong of leather, or a piece of plaited string : you put the stone in the middle where it is made broad ; you hold both parts in your hand, whirl the string round, then let one part loose, and the stone will fly. It was that kind of sling, I believe, that David had. And he took with him 'five smooth pebbles out of the brook'. It was quite right for him to take the stones and the sling. It would not have been right for him to say, ' God will give me the victory, even if I do nothing '. Wellington's advice or conmiand to his soldiers was, 'Say your prayers hut keep your powder dry!' It would not do to say your prayers, and have your powder wet ; the guns would not go off. Use the means. ' Say your prayers and keep your powder dry.' Take all you can, do the best you can. So David took the sling and the pebbles. And then you remember the great giant's horrible look. He gazed savagely at him: 'Am I a dog, that thou comest to me with staves ? Come to me, and I will kill thee. And I will give thy flesh unto the fowls of the air and to the beasts of the field.' David's, you will remember, was a noble answer : ' Then said David to the I'hilistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a shield : but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied. This day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hand ; and I will smite thee, and will take thine head from thee ; and I will give the carcases of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild beasts of the earth ; that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel. And all this assembly shall 150 1 SAMUEL XVII know that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear : for the battle is the Lord's, and He will give you into our hands ' (1 Sam. 45-47). God will slww who is the strongest. You know that one of the pebbles killed the giant. I don't know whether he had, by mistake, not put his visor down, so that his forehead was left uncovered, or whether there was a little hole in the visor that the stone could go through ; but God managed it so that the pebble could go through his armour into his forehead, and he fell down dead. Then David went and stood upon the giant, and took his heavy sword and cut off Goliath's head. So he perished. Now I want to speak to you about your war. Who is your Goliath? What Goliath have you to fight with ? You have one. You have a giant to fight with. Thomas, what is i/ou-r giant? John, what is your giant ? Elizabeth, what is your giant ? Mary, what is your giant? So I might go through all the names. I might say, perhaps, your giant is a bad temper ; you are often angry, you do not speak the tnath, you are prone to lying ; I might say it is idleness, or ir- reverence ; but I do say your giant is self. Satan cannot hurt you, and no one can enter into the castle — if there is not a traitor inside. But if there is a traitor within the heart, the castle is sure to be taken. All the Goliaths in the world would he unable to destroy you if there were not a traitor inside to open the gate and let the enemy in. Self is your giant. Now, if you are to fight against this great giant, the sin in your own naughty heart, how shall you do it? What shall be your 'five stones?' I have been trying to think, and I find it very difficult to do so. What is like the five pebbles ? Some great writers say they mean the two Sacraments, the Bible, prayer, and meditation. The Roman Catholics say, 'It is the Sacraments '. But what shall we say ? I will think of what David said to Saul. The first pebble will be alleluia ! Think — how kind God has been to me ! What God has done for me ! Memory will be my first pebble. Alleluia ! My second pebble should be a promise. I should take one of God's promises. That should be my second pebble. My third pebble should be a prayer — a little prayer in my heart, j ust as I am going to fight. And my fourth pebble should be a text — some text to think of. And my fifth pebble should be a kind word — a good word — perhaps that good word should be 'Jesus ' ! That is a very good word. Can you think of any five better pebbles than these ? I have been trying to think (have you ?) what are the best pebbles to give you. Perhaps you will think of some better ones. Those are the five I have thought of — alleluia — a promise — a prayei' — a text — some good word. And what shall be the ' sling ' ? What will send it all along? What will do a gieat deal of good? Who can tell me? Faith — trust in God. I trust in God, and that will send these five things on the right way, and make them effectual. Faith is my sling, and I give you my five pebbles. But, mind you, they must be ' smooth '. What will make them ' smooth ' ? What makes things ' smooth ' in your conscience ? When you have used it a great deal. What is the next thing that will make things smooth ? A little oil. And what is the ' oil ' to make the pebbles ' smooth ' ? What is like ' oil ' ? The Holy Spirit ! — God's Good Spirit ! Using the conscience well, practising it, and having the Holy Spirit will make all things 'smooth'. You have t;ot your ' sling,' you have your ' five pebbles,' you know how to make them 'smooth' — by practice and the holy oil — the Holy Spirit. Then you can conquer Goliath ; then you can conquer your giant. John can conquer John ; Thomas can conquer Thomas ; Mary can conquer Mary ; Eliza- beth can conquer Elizabeth. If you ai-e ever naughty you can conquer your naughtiness. There was once a boy with a bad temper ; he was very sulky, soon put out. His mother said to him — ' Now, Edward, I will read you a verse in the Bible; will you think of it ? It is one of the Proverbs. The verse is, " He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city ".' She made Edward say those words very often. Little Edward went out, and he met a boy who called him a very rude name indeed. Just as Edward got his fist up to strike him, he thought of the text — ' He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city '. He put down his hand, turned round, and walked home. When he got to his mother he threw himself into her arms, and said — ' Mother, I did it ! I did it ' ! and then bui-st out crying. That conquered Goliath. It was a noble victory ! I could tell you of a great man, and his name was St. Chrysostom, and because he was so eloquent, and used such beautiful words, he was called ' the golden mouth '. He lived about three hundred years after Christ. He was brought before the Emperor of Rome because of his religion. I will tell you what the emperor said to him, and what he answered. The emperor said to him — ' I will banish you from your country, your fatherland'. St. Chrysostom said to him — ' You cannot do so, for all the world is my Father's world. My Father's world is my country, and you cannot banish me ! ' Then the emperor said to him — ' I will take away all your possessions ! ' St. Chrysostom said to him — ' You cannot ; I have got possessions where you connot touch them. My trea- sure is in heaven ; you cannot take away my treasure there.' Then the emperor said — 'I will take away all your friends. You shall live alone in some island by yourself You shall have no friends ! ' St. Chrysostom replied — ' You cannot do so. God is my friend ; you cannot separate me from Him.' 151 Ver. 37. 1 SAMUEL XVII Ver. 37. Then the emperor said — ' I will take away your life ' ! St. Chrysostom replied — ' You cannot ; my life is " hid with Christ in God " '. You see this holy man was thus enahled to meet this great emperor and not be afraid, because God was with him : he trusted in God. Have you ever conquered a giant ? Have you been fighting with a giant to-day ? Will you really fight ? I hope if any boy asked you to fight that you would not do so, except it be to fight for a little boy ; I never would fight for my own sake, but I might, perhaps, for another's sake. Have you ever got a victory? — James Vaughan, Sermons to Chil- dren, (5th Series) p. 13. THE WAY TO CONQUER ' David said moreover, The Lord that delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear, he will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine. And Saul said unto David, Go, and the Lord be with thee.' — I Samuel xvii. 37. It is something wonderful to mark the interest that all boys take in fighting. You are never aweary of hearing about battles and adventures with savages, and combats between men. Paul tells us that he fought with beasts at Ephesus, but that is all he says — he does not tell us whether the beasts he meant were men or creatures. I fancy if he had told us more ;ibout that fight it would have been the chapter a good many boys would have liked best. And it is well to learn to fight ; but I do not need to tell some of you that — perhaps you are j ust a little too much given to practising. You want to find out how to be a good boxer, how to make the best ' guard ' and the best ' thrust,' don't you ? Well, I can tell you. There was a great boxer in this country not very long ago : perhaps you have heard his name — it was Tom Sayers. He was a champion ; and one day a young man went up to him and said, ' I say, Sayers, what is the best guard ? ' and he threw himself into a boxing attitude. ' Well,' said the old champion very quietly, ' the best guard you can ever make is this — keep a civil tongue in your head ! ' Practise that guard, practise that guard ; you can always say you were taught it by the bravest boxer in the world, and he was sure to know better than anybody what was the best guard. Keep a civil tongue in your head and it will be difficult for people to hurt you much. And the best ' thrust ' — you want to know that ? So did a very good young lad once. ' Do you think,'' he said to his minister one day, ' that there is any harm in learning the noble ai't of self-defence ' ? ' Oh, no,' said the minister, ' I think it is a very good thing to learn ; I learnt it myself when I was young, and I have found it of great value.' ' Oh, indeed,' said the lad quite joyfully ; ' which system did you learn — the old English sj'stem or Sullivan's system ? ' ' Neither,' said the minister ; ' I learnt Solomon's system.' ' Solo- mon's system ? ' asked the other wonderingiy. ' Yes,' said the pastor ; ' you will find it laid down in the first verse of the fifteenth chapter of Proverbs — "a soft answer turneth away wrath ".' That's a thrust ; you will never learn a better. It must be straight, since it can turn away wrath, for that is more than the strongest blow can do— for a blow of wrath only makes wrath fiercer, just as a gust of wind only makes the fire burn hotter. Practise that guard — a civil tongue ; and practise that thrust — a soft answer, and you will win more victories and carry yourself more bravely than ever you could do by using your fists. So you see I have not a word to say against fight- ing— in fact, it is a good thing to learn to be a good fighter ; only, everything depends on what we fight and how we do it. David began by fighting a lion, and after that he fought a bear, and then he was ready to fight a giant. And it was all fair fighting ; they did not all rush on him together ; it was ' one down and the other come on,' and he was more than a match for them all. Let us learn something about this, for there is something in it worth our learning. There are lions and bears that have got to be fought. David knew that ; he knew he was not sent to watch the sheep just to prevent them from straying away. There were wild beasts about, and if they came down on his flock there was but one thing he must do — fight ! And so he fought. When the lion came he killed the lion and saved the lamb. And that is a great thing for us to learn, a very great thing indeed : to be ready, aye ready — to trust in God and prayerfully keep our eyes about us. For we shall be attacked by the lion and the bear too. Not like those that came against David, perhaps, or those that you have seen in the Zoological Gardens, but lions and bears all the same, and cruel ones too. There is the lion, for instance — how strong he is, how nimble, how he creeps along like a cat with his soft velvet paws, how he lurks amongst the grass, and never utters a sound till with a roar of thunder he springs like lightning and drives in his claws like daggers, and fastens his great teeth in his prey. Ah ! nobody will get away from him without many a fearful wound. Now there are a great many sins of the lion kind, very, very strong, and yet so cunning — coming to us so stealthily, and springing on us so suddenly and so cruelly. There's anger, for instance : how suddenly that springs^ — what temble work it makes ! And there is falsehood and dishonesty : how they come creeping up to our hearts with little bad thoughts, little bad thoughts like the soft step upon soft step of the lion, till we come to some temptation, and then the lion bounds out — the falsehood is spoken, the thing is stolen, and the soul is a liar or a thief! Oh ! these are fearful words — terrible wounds that are made by the lion ! how much need we have to be always on the watch against him. Yes, it is as a lion the devil goeth about seeking whom he can devour ; like a lion he never shows himself boldly — he always creeps closer 162 Ver. 37. 1 SAMUEL XVIL, XXV Ver. 29. and closer to us till we think it is all right, and then he springs on us, and we sin. Oh, hearken for the lion's footstejis ; they are evil thought^, evil whispers, evil desires — listen for these in your heart- — and when you hear them, oh ! pray to Jesus quickly, and watch, for the lion is near, and if you don't destroy him he will destroy you. But there again is the bear. He is not like the lion, not quick — he is rather a sluggish, slowgoing ci'eature. He does not spring on his victim, he comes lumbering nearer and nearer, breaking branches and making many a noise as he comes along ; but when he does come to his prey — ah ! he hugs it with an em- brace that presses the life out of it, unless it can first kill the bear itself The bear does not surprise people as the lion does ; only people who are asleep or very careless need be surprised by the bear. And there are sins of the bear kind as well as sins of the lion kind. There's laziness. What a hug that takes of some people ! More people are pressed to death by laziness than by heavy burdens. Oh ! watch against indolence, against sloth, against idle- ness— if you do not kill that sin it will kill everything good that is in you. Never go to bed without pray- ing because you are tired. That is the footstep of the bear — it will soon itself be on you. Never leave your task unlearnt because you do not feel in the mind for it. The bear is not very far ofF when you do that. Watch then, watch — and fight the enemy. And then again ; there are filthy habits of the soul, filthy thoughts, filthy ways, filthy words. Pah ! what ugly things they are ! how they creep into the heart ! how they always overmaster the idle ! with what a terrible hug they hold the soul until they have killed it ! Oh ! do not let the filthy bear get a grip of your soul ; when you hear it coming — ^when you hear any one saying filthy words, or doing filthy things, pray to the Lord to deliver you out of the paw of the bear. Watch for the bear ; expect him to come after the Hon. I have known some people who killed the lion, who were afterwards killed by the bear. They had fought against this sin and that, and had overcome it, but then they fell into sloth and pride, and many other evils that came more slowly, but that gripped more firmly even than the lion did. How did David destroy the lion and the bear ? It was by the help of the Lord. ' The Lord,' he says, ' delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear'. Yes, we never can overcome our sins unless the Lord helps us. Did David see the Lord when the Lord delivered him from the lion and the bear ? No ; but he knew the Lord was there, and it was by the Lord he had been delivered. It is the same with us. We do not see the Lord ; but He is near us when we pray, and it is His strength that delivers us. Trust in Jesus, and not in your own strength, if you would overcome all sin. — J. Reid How ait, The Children's Angel, p. 114. THE BUNDLE OF LIFE ' The soul of my lord shall be bound in the bundle of life with the Lord thy God.' — i Samuel xxv. 2g. These are the words of Abigail, the wife of the purse- proud and churlish Nabal. She was not only a beauti- ful and clever, but also a God-fearing woman. She knew that David was the Lord's anointed, and that his life was precious in the Lord's sight, ' bound in the bundle of life' with Him. When a Jew was about to go from home, he would pack up in a bag or bundle any valuables which he wanted to take with him, so that he might carry them fafely about his person. And Abigail speaks of the souls whom God loves as thus bound up and carefully guarded in the immediate presence of God. We may regard these words, ' the bundle of life,' as having two meanings ; the one referring to the life that now is, and the other to that which is to come. L The words refer, first of all, to God's people who are living upon the earth. This was what Abigail meant. She was sure that God would keep David under His personal care and protection, as one who was specially dear to Him. And the good woman was not mistaken. The word ' David,' as we have said only a few pages back, means in Hebrew ' beloved ' or 'favourite,' and the Lord had set His love upon David. How many times He de- livered him from those who 'rose to pursue him, and to seek his soul ! ' The giant Goliath could not hurt him. Neither could the jealous and furious Saul. Neither could his heathen enemies. Neither could his own bad son Absalom. It was one of ' the sure mercies of David ' that the Lord should spare him to old age. In the Old Testament Scriptures long life in this world is pi'omised to those that fear God, and that keep His law. The promise is made, for example, in the Fifth Commandment to those who honour and obey their parents. Length of happy days is a token of God's favour, and oftentimes He ' satisfies with long life ' those who ' set their love upon Him '. No such promise is made to God's enemies, but the very reverse. ' The fear of the Lord prolongeth days ; but the yeare of the wicked shall be shortened.' Instead of the souls of evil men being bound in the bundle of life with the Lord God, ' them shall He sling out, as from the hollow of a sling '. It was so with the brutal and sottish Nabal : his soul was soon slung out in an attack of apoplexy (ver. 38). It was so with King Saul, the persecutor of David : his soul was soon slung out in the battle on Mount Gilboa (xxxi.). The triumph of the wicked is short. Blood- thirsty and deceitful men shall not live out half their days. An ancient Greek and Roman proverb says that ' whom the gods love die young '. Amongst ourselves, too, people sometimes say regarding a pious gracious child, that ' he is too good for this world '. But this is to speak as the heathen do. The word of God says 153 Ver. 29. 1 SAMUEL XXV Ver. 29. the very opposite. It says, ' Happy is the man that findeth wisdom : length of days is in her right hand '. II. But there is another ' bundJe of life ' besides that which is bound here on earth. There is the life of glory — life in heaven — ' eternal life '. The Old Testament gives a large place to the blessing of a long life in this world ; while the New Testament speaks rather of the blessed hope of everlasting life. There are only two words in the Hebrew Bible corresponding to the five English words — 'in the bundle of life ' ; and the Jews in our time often write these two Hebrew words upon their gravestones. In using them thus they apply them to the future life — the life which Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and all de- parted saints are living now in the bosom of God. All who trust in the Lord Jesus Christ as their Saviour are ' bound in the bundle of life with the Lord their God '. When they depart this life they are not ' slung out,' but go to be with Christ which is far better. Not spilt like water on the g;rounfl, Not wrapped in dreamless sleep profound, Not waiidering iu unknown despair. Beyond Thy voice, Thine arm. Thy care ; Not left to lie like fallen tree ; Not dead, but living unto Thee. Even now ' your life is hid with Chi-ist in God '. Jehovah- Jesus regards His people as His jewels, and He can'ies ' the bundle of the living ' about with Him on His pel-son. What a high honour this, and what unspeakable blessedness ! The enemies of the saints must kill Jesus before they can injure them. His bosom stands between His people and desti'uction. Charles Jekdan, Messages to the Children, p. 203. 154 THE SECOND BOOK OF SAMUEL JONATHAN, THE MODEL FRIEND 'Jonathan — thy love to me was wonderful.' — 2 Samuel I. 26. These words David used in the lamentation which he wrote when he heard of the death of his friend Jonathan. We seldom hear anything said about Jonathan. And this is suiprising when we remem- ber what a remarkable man he was. He was a re- markable soldier. His courage was very great. We have a striking illustration of this in the fourteenth chapter of the first book of Samuel. At that time the Philistines had gained great victories over the Israel- ites. They had put garrisons of soldiers all through the land of Israel. They had taken away from the Israelites their swords and spears, and would not let any blacksmiths remain among them for fear they would make swords for them to fight with. When tidngs were in this sad state, Jonathan made up his mind one day that he would try his hand with their enemies, and see if he could not get a victory over them. He told his armour-bearer what he was going to do, and asked him to go with him, and help him. He agreed to do so, and they two went out by them- selves, and made an attack on one of the garrisons of the Philistines. Their enemies were afraid of them and ran away. Jonathan and his companion went after them, and killed a number of the Philistines. Then the Israelites heard of it, and great numbers of them came and joined Jonathan and his com- panion. They attacked the other Philistine garri- sons. The Lord sent an earthquake at that time. This frightened the Philistines. They all ran away ; and the end of it was, thev were defeated and diiven back into their own countiy, and a glorious victory was gained by the Israelites. And all this was owing to the courage of Jonathan, when he made his bold attack on the Philistines that day with his armour-bearer to help him. And then, in addition to being a brave soldier he was an uncommonly good son. ^Ve might speak of him as the model son, and there is a great deal in his history that could be brought out to illustrate this view of his character. But the most interesting thing in the life of Jonathan is the friendship that existed between him and David. And so, I wish to speak of Jonathan as — The Model Friend. And there are three points about this model that well deserve our attention. In the First Place, Jonathan was the Model of ' A Loving ' Friend. — -A friend is good for nothing unless he really loves us. And the better he loves us, the more his friendship is worth. Let us look at some illustrations of what loving friends will be and do. A loving friend. — Colonel Byrd of Virginia fell into the hands of the Cherokee Indians when our Government was at war with them. He was con- demned to death, and was led out to execution. One of the chiefs in that tribe had been the Colonel's friend. As the executioners approached to put the Colonel to death, this chief came out, and standing before him, said : ' This man is my fiiend. Before you can get at him, you must kill me.' This saved his life. A little hero. — A boy in a town in Germany was playing one day with his sister, when the cry was heard, ' A mad dog ! a mad dog ! ' The boy saw the dog coming directly towards him ; but instead of running away, he took off his coat, and wrapping- it round his arm, boldly faced the dog, holding out his arm covered with the coat. The dog flew at his arm, worrying over it, and trying to bite through it, till men came up and killed him. ' Why didn't you run away from the dog, my little man ? ' asked one of the men. ' I could easily have done that,' said the brave boy, ' but if I had, the dog would have bitten my sister.' He was truly a loving friend and brother. TJie little substitute. — I have one other story to illustrate this part of our subject. A teacher in a day school had to punish one of his scholars for breaking the rule of the school. The punishment was that the offending boy should stand for a quarter of an hour in a comer of the schoolroom. As the guilty boy was going to the appointed place, a little fellow, much younger than he, went up to the teacher, and requested that he might be allowed to take the place of the other boy. The teacher con- sented. The little boy went, and bore the punishment due to the other boy. When the quarter of an hour was passed, the teacher called the little boy to him, and asked if his com- panion had begged him to take his place. ' No, sir,' he i-eplied. ' Well, don't you think that he deserved to be punished ? ' ' Yes, sir ; he had broken the rule of the school, and he deserved to be punished.' ' Why, then, did you want to bear the punishment in his place ? ' ' Sir, it was because he is my friend, and I love him.' The teacher thought this was a good opportunity for teaching his scholars an important lesson. ' Boys,' said he, ' would it be right for me now to punish that boy whr has broken the rule of the school ? ' 1.5.5 V'er. 26. 2 SAMUEL I Ver. 26. ' No, sir,' answered the boys. ' Why not ? ' ' Because we have allowed his friend Joseph to be punished in his place.' ' Does this remind you of anything ? ' asked the teacher. ' Yes, sir,' said several voices ; 'it reminds us that the Lord Jesus bore the punishment for our sins.' ' What name would you give to Joseph for what he has now done ? ' ' That of a substitute.' ' What is a substitute ? ' ' One who takes the place of another.' ' What place has Jesus taken ? ' ' That of sinners.' ' Joseph has told us that he wished to take his friend's place, and be punished instead of him, because he loved him. Can you tell me why Jesus wished to die in the place of sinners ? ' ' It was because He loves us.' ' Repeat a passage from the Bible which proves this.' ' " The Son of God, Who loved me, and gave Him- self for me "' (Gal. u. 20). Jonathan was the model of a loving friend. But Jesus is the most loving of all friends. We may well look up to Him, and say, in the language of the hymn :— One there is, above all others. Well deserves the name of Friend ; His is love beyond a brother's, Lasting, true, and knows no end. In the Second Place, Jonathan was the Model of 'A Generous Friend'.' — Jonathan was the oldest son of Saul, the King of Israel. He was what men call 'The heir-apparent' of the throne of Israel. This means that he was the one to be made king when his father should die. Jonathan knew thi.s. He fully expected to be king on the death of his father. And all the people of Israel expected it too. But God had determined to take the kingdom away from Saul and his family, because of his disobedience. The prophet Samuel had been sent by God to anoint David to be King of Israel, instead of Saul. When Saul heard of this he was very angry, and tried in every way to kill David. But it was very different with Jonathan. When he found out that it was the will of God that his fi-iend David should take his crown and throne, and be king instead of him, he was not at all angrv. He made no objection to it. He never thought of quar- relling with David about it. He knew that it was right for God to do just what He pleased ; and he submitted at once to the will of God, although it took the crown of Israel away from him. He said to David when they were talking about this matter : ' Thou shalt be king over Israel ; and I will be next to thee ' (1 Sam. xxiii. 17). Noble Jonathan ! Gener- ous Jonathan ! It does our hearts good, and helps to make us better, just to think of such friendship! Another example of generous friendship like this is not to be found anywhere in the history of the world. How well we may speak of Jonathan as the model of generous friendship ! The Confederate soldier. — In one of the battles in Virginia, a Union officer fell, severely wounded, in front of the Confederate breastworks. He lay there crying piteously for water. A noble-hearted Con- federate soldier heard his cry, and resolved to relieve him. He filled his canteen with water, and though the bullets were flying across the field, and he could only go at the risk of his life, yet he went. He gave the suffering officer the drink he so greatly needed. This touched his heart so much that he instantly took out his gold watch and offered it to his generous foe. But the noble fellow refused to take it. ' Then give me your name and residence,' said the officer. ' My name,' said the soldier, ' is James Moore, of Burke County, North Carolina.' Then they parted. That soldier was subsequently wounded, and lost a limb. In due time the war was over, and that wounded officer went back to his busi- ness as a merchant in New York. And not long after that Confederate soldier received a letter from the officer to whom he had given the ' cup of cold water,' telling him that he had settled on him .$10,000, to be paid in four annual instalments of $2,500 each. $10,000 for a drink of water ! That was noble on the pai't of the Union officer. But to give that drink of water at the risk of his own life was still more noble on the part of that brave soldier. I never think of it without feeling inclined to take off my cap and give a rousing ' Hurrah ! ' for that noble Confederate soldier. The noble engineer. — Two freight trains on the Philadelphia and Erie railroad came into collision. Christian Dean was the engineer of one of those trains. Both he and his fireman were fastened down beneath the wreck of the locomotive. Dean was held by one of his legs close by the fire of the engine. His fireman was nearly buried under the pieces of the wreck. When they were discovered. Dean had man- aged to reach his tool-box, and was making every effort to get the fireman out. When he saw the men who had come to help them. Dean said to them, ' Help poor Jim ! Never mind me. ' The fireman was taken out as soon as possible ; but he was un- conscious. Then Dean was taken out. And it was found that during all the time he had been working to relieve his fiiend, the fii-eman, the fire was burning his own leg to a crisp. It was literally roasted, from his knee down, and had afterwards to be cut off. And yet the noble fellow, unmindful of his own suffering.s, was only thinking about his companion, and trying to relieve him. This was a generous friend indeed ! I have only one other story on this point of our subject. We may call it — The spirit of Christ. — Thomas Samson was a miner, and he worked very hard every day for a living. The overseer of the mine said to him one 156 Ver. 11. 2 SAMUEL VI Ver. 11. day : ' Thomas, I've got an easier berth for you, where there is not so much work to do, and wheie you can get better wuges. Will you accept it? ' Most men «'0uld have jumped at such an offer, and would have taken it in a moment. But what did this noble fellow do ? He said to the overseer : ' Captain, there's our poor brother Tregony : he has a sickly body, and is not able to work as hard as I can. I am afraid his work will shorten his life, and then what will his poor family do? Won't you let him have this easier berth ? I can go on working as I have done.' The overseer was wonderfully pleased with Samson's generous spirit. He sent for Tregony, and gave the easy lierth to him. How noble that was ! It was indeed the very spirit of Christ. Now, all the three stories we have here show the same generous spirit that Jonathan had in his friendship with David. He was the model of a generous friend. There is one other point for us to notice in Jona- than, and that is, that he was The Model of ' A Faith= ful ' Friend. Jonathan and David lived in very trying times. It was a time of war ; and they were surrounded by many and great difficulties and dingers. But, in the midst of all those trials, Jonathan's friendship for David never failed and never faltered. He went to meet him whenever he could, in the woods, or in the mountains. He did, and said everything in his power to help and comfort him. And, until the day of his death, he remained unchanged — the faithful friend of David. And we should try to imitate the example of Jonathan in this respect. Let us aim to be faithful friends to those we love. — Richard Newton, Bible Models, p. 164. CHRIST IN THE HOUSE ' And the ark of the Lord continued in the house of Obed-edora the Gittite three months ; and the Lord blessed Obed-edom, and all his household.' — 2 Samuel vi. ii. The Bible tells us of three arks. There is, first, the ark of Noah ; then there is the ark in which Moses was preserved, while yet an infant ; and lastly, there is the ark of the covenant, of which the text speaks. The name applied to this last is in the Hebrew given to a number of other things. To a coffin, for example. The word ark means a chest. You see, therefore, why it was applied to Noah's floating house. That was a great chest, rather than a ship built as ships now are, made to hold the creatures God was to save from the flood. As the waters rose, it would rise on their surface and move with any cuiTents that might flow, but it would not sail about mucli. It was a huge box. Moses's river-cradle, too, was a little coffer made to float, if the water rose among the flags where it was laid. It is not improbable tliat the ark of God given to the Jews had some reference to Noah's. In the hieroglyphic pictui-es on the walls of Egyptian temples and tombs there are many representations of arks, growing, in all likelihood, out of remembrance of the deluge, and of the deliverance from it which God gave to Noah and his house. God, in fixing the symbols and types which were to teach the -lews, was pleased to use a similar emblem. But whether or no this looked back to Noah, it looked forward to Jesus. It was a figure of the Saviour, by whom sinners c-cape from the flood of Divine anger which sweeps away the wicked. This ark was made of a particular kind of wood, called in our Bible shittim wood, and was jjlated all over with gold. It had a lid, which got the name of the mercy-seat. On this lid stood two winged figures, one at each end, called cherubim. Between these, when the ark was put in its place in the inner sanctu- ary, there rested a wondei'ful light, the token of the glory of God. Hence God is spoken of as dwelling between the cherubim. In the ark or chest of which the mercy-seat was the cover, there were laid up the tables of stone that Moses received on Sinai, with the Ten Commandments written on them by the finger of God. In a place beside the ark was the pot that had manna, and the rod of Aaron, which, you remember, was a dead staff when laid up before the Lord at night, but was covered in the morning with buds and blossoms. Here, too, was hud up a copy of the whole law of Moses as God gave it by him. The ark was formed in the wilderness, and was placed in the inner and smaller of the two rooms, made with boards and coverediwith curtains, of which the Tabernacle or tent of God consisted. It was carried from place to place with great care, and according to an order and form which God Himself commanded. There were several very wonderful occurrences in its history. When home by the priests to the brink of Jordan, the waters of the river were divided before it ; and as long as it stood in the bed of the stream they did not re- turn to cover the road by which the Israelites passed over. When carried round the city of Jericho, seven days in succession, and on the last day seven times, the walls fell flat before the people of Israel, and they went up without opposition into the city. The ark was afterwards placed in Shiloh, and when theie, a strange thing happened to it. It was taken into the midst of the camp of Israel when they were about to fight with the Philistines. The battle was fought, Israel was beaten, and the ark of God was taken captive. After seven months, during which time judgments had fallen on the Philistines wherever the ark was canied, it came back drawn by two cows without a guide, and rested in a harvest-field in Beth- shemesh. Then it was left at Kirjath-jearim, till David thought of bringing it into Zion, but awe- struck by the death of Uzzah, who rashly put out his hand to touch it, the king made it be carried into the house of Obed-edom, where it rested three months. And all the time it rested there a blessing rested with it. The Lord blessed Obed-edom and all his household. Now, I said the ark was a figure of Jesus. The very name given to its lid is applied to Him. The propitiation, or propitiatory, or mercy-seat. The lesson of the ark, with that glory abiding on it be- tween the cherubim, read in New Testament light^ 157 Ver. 11. 2 SAMUEL VI \'er. 11. was this, ' God is in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing unto men their trespasses '. What I am to speak of, therefore, in connection with the text, is the blessedness of having Christ in the house. The ark was a blessing to Obed-edom ; but there are three respects in which Christ is better than was the ark. Let us first notice these, and then show how Christ in the house secures blessings for a family. I. The ark was but a sign ; and we, instead of the sign, have the Saviour himself The difference is like the difference between a portrait of your father and your father himself. I need not tell you which is best. The ark, too, sign as it was, was out of sight ; it was placed in the dark inner tabernacle, and a vail hung before it which none but the high priest might put aside, on one day of the year only. This showed that the way into God's presence was not yet made open by Christ's death. But now it is, and Christ in the house teaches that every one may have access to the Father by the faith of Him. n. The ark could only be in one house at a time. Christ can be in the homes of all. When the ark was in Obed-edom's house, David had it not in the place prepared for it. But Jesus can be at the same moment in the queen's palace and the shepherd's cottage on the hill. It has been remarked that this is one thing which makes it better for the Church in this world to have Christ's presence by the Spiiit, rather than his mere bodily presence. He could not be, in his human nature, in every place at the same moment, but his Spirit is everywhere. III. The ark was in Obed-edom's house only for three months. Christ, where he is welcomed, never leaves a hous& He dwells with us till at last he exchanges our house for a mansion in His Father's, where we shall dwell with Him for ever. Having mentioned these things, I go on to tell you why a home is happy where the ark rests. Take thi-ee reasons : — I. Where Christ is there is a throne of grace. II. Where Christ is there is a furnished table. III. Where Christ comes in sin goes out. I. There is a Throne of Grace where Christ Dwells. — The mercy-seat and the throne of grace are the same thing ; throne is the King's seat, and grace is mercy. Christ, as our mercy-seat is, first, our way to God to be forgiven. The lid of the aik, on the great day of atonement, was sprinkled with blood. The meaning was, that by Jesus' death sinnei-s would be reconciled to God and forgiven. That is a very happy state. To be safe— to be able to look up and call God Father ! Let me take you to two families on the same night, in the same city, and show you what a difference forgiveness makes. First, we go into a house, and find all the people wailing, and cry- ing, and wringing their hands. It is midnight, but there is no sleep, and the whole family are in terror. For suddenly the first-born child has "died, and word has come from the neighbours round that the same thing has happened in their houses. The whole place is full of lamentation. The avenging angel has been smiting Egypt for its sins. But now, let us look in on a house in Goshen, where the Israelites stay. We find the household all awake here too. But there is no wailing. The family are gathered round the table, dressed as for a journey ; and they are looking in each other's faces, as they eat in haste, with an ex- pres.sion of mingled joy, and awe, and wonder. What makes all the difFerenee ? The angel of wrath has not been here ; and if you wish to see what stayed his hand, look at the lintels and door-posts. There are blood-marks there, and the angel knew that all within the house where these appeared were bought by God for Himself by the life of sacrifice. II. Where Christ is there is a Furnished Table. — ^A pot of manna, as we saw, was laid up beside the ark; some think within it, but rather beside it. Manna was bread given straight from the sky, and was a type of bread for the soul, which does not grow, like corn, out of the earth, but must be sent from God. He has sent it, and, wherever Christ is in a house. He dispenses it. In what form we get it I need hardly tell you. Our pot of manna, that never coiiTipts, or wastes, or palls on a sound taste, is the Bible. The taste of the old manna was like wafers mixed with honev ; but this is ' sweeter than honey and the honey -comb'. What a difference the Bible in a house makes, especially in a day of sickness and of death ! It is like a lamp, then, in a dark night. But I was calling it bread, rather, and I go back to this to say that you should take daily meals of it. You do not like to go without food for the body for even one day. Mind your soul too. You would think it a very miserable house that had no food in it. To an angel's eye, a house that is without Christ's book, or, having the book, does not use it, is far more miserable. A good man once entered a house in Germany, and found it very wretched — no fire, no furniture, no food. Everything bore the appearance of utter poverty. But, glancing round, he saw in a neglected comer a copy of the Bible, and, when he went away, he said to the poor inmates, ' There is a treasure in this house that would make you all very rich '. After he had gone the people began to search the house for what they thought must be a jewel or a pot of gold, and, finding nothing, they went to dig up the very floor's, in hopes of discovering the hidden store of wealth. All in vain. One day after that the mother lifted the old Bible, and found written on the fly-leaf of it, taken from its own pages, these words, ' Thy testimonies are better to Me than thou- sands of gold and silver'. Ah ! she said, can this be the treasure the stranger spoke of? So she told her thought to the rest ; they began to read the Bible, became changed in character, and a blessing came in to stay with them. The stranger came back to find poverty gone, contentment and peace in its place, and a hearty Christian welcome, while, with grateful joy, the family told him, ' We found the treasure, and it has proved all that you said to us it would'. III. Where Christ comes in Sin goes out. — You 158 Ver. 18. 2 SAMUEL XIX., XXII Ver. 2. remember what happened to Dagon, the idol of the Philistines, when the ark was brought into his temple. Twice he fell flat on his face, and, when his wor- shippers lifted him up, he was all broken and maimed. So idols fall down in the heart and in the house where Christ enters in. Christ and sin cannot stay peaceably together. An old Roman emperor was willing to put a statue of Jesus among the other gods of the empire ; but the Christians said that would not do. Christ must be on the throne, and all that is against Him must be made His footstool. This was one lesson taught by the budding of Aaron's rod when the staves of all the other tribes remained dead as they were. But observe carefully that I have not said, that before Christ comes in sin must be put out. It is His coming in that sends it away. Suppose you were in a dark room in the morning, the shutters closed and fastened, and only as much light coming through the chinks as made you aware it was day outside. And suppose you should say to a companion with you, 'Let us open the windows, and let in the light '. What would you think, if he replied, ' No, no, you must first put the darkness out, or the light will not enter '. You would laugh at his absurdity. Just so, we cannot put sin out of our hearts to prepare for Christ's entering ; we must open and take Him in, and sin will flee. Fling the window open at once, and let Christ shine in. — J. Edmond, The Children's Church at Home, p. 231. THE FERRY BOAT ' And there went over a ferry boat to carry over the king's household, and to do what he thought good.' — 2 Samuel XIX. i8. If you had seen David that night in his tent, you mightn't have thought very much of him. He was just like other people ; nothing different. He had no crown on his head or glittering jewels on his gar- ments ; his clothes were poor and shabby, and he looked very worn and spent. Yes ; but he was a king, a king every inch of him. For a great promise had been given to him, and it was God who had given it — the promise that he would yet be seated on the throne in Jerusalem, and would have the crown on his head and the sceptre in his hand. Ah ! it's a big mistake to judge by ap- pearances. There are people now all round us just like David ; they have a hard ■time of it, and they ai'e sometimes very tired, and they look like very common folk, but yet in the midst of it all they smile, and there is a strange, sweet song always singing in their hearts. It is the song of the promise — -God's promise — that they who love the dear Lord Jesus shall yet be kings, and shall reign with Him. They are kings and queens now, though you can see no crown on their brows, for God has said it, and they believe His word — and that is enough — they shall come to the throne yet, for all that they seem so poor. Isn't that worth living for ? and worth looking for, and sti'iving after? It is — and it can be for you, as it can be for every one ; for it is the promise of God to all who believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and live in the love of Him. Make it your own ; take the promise for your very own self Fix your heart, once and for ever, sure and certain on Jesus Christ, and you shall sit on a throne yet, and wear the crown. But one thing troubled David that night, as the like has troubled many since. He could not be king till he came to Jerusalem, and there was the river between ! The Jordan was broad, and deep, and strong ; how would he ever get across ? I have known many people troubled about that— very troubled in- deed— so long as they were high up on the bank, or far away fi-om the dark, rushing river ; but when thev came at last down to the brink, there was no diffi- culty whatever. Tliat was what David found. When he went down in the dark to think it all out, and find if there was an}' place better than another, he heard a voice speak in the darkness and bid him come, and trust ; and there was a boat by the water's edge ! And a word was whispered in his eai-, and he was no longer afraid, but stepped boldly in, and the boat silently glided away through the gloom. Where he was going he could not tell, but he had the pro- mise, and trusted to it, and was not afraid ; and it all turned out as the Lord had promi.sed him : there was a shore beyond, and when he landed on it there were throngs on throngs of friends waiting for him, to accompany him up to the city of palaces and bring him to the kingly throne. The promise was fulfilled, David sat on the throne, and wore the crown and the jewelled robes, and was every way a king. Trust to God's promise, and live for Jesus, and you need never be afraid of the time when you have to step down to the river. The boat will be ready wait- ing for you when that hour comes. The boat is black, and the oars dip silently, and the fenyman's face is hidden till you have got across and the sun has risen ; then, behold ! it is Jesus Chri.st Himself who has bi'ought you over. That is enough : to be with Him is to be safe. The crown and the throne are certain when Jesus Himself leads us to them. — J. Reid HowAiT, The Children's Preacher, p. 29. THE BEAUTY OF THE KING'S TITLES The Lord is my rock.' — 2 Samuel xxii. 2. Jesus Compared to a Rock — If you and I go and stand by the cradle in which a baby is sleeping, no matter how much we love it, or feel interested in it, we cannot tell what sort of a pereon it will be when grown up. No one can tell this of any ordinary baby. But it was different with Jesus, when He lay, as an infant, in the manger at Bethlehem. If we had gone with the shepherds to worship Him, we might have taken our Bibles with us, and as we stood there, gazing in wonder at the infant Saviour, we might have opened our Bibles ; and turning to one passage after another, that the prophets had written about Him, we might have told just what sort of a person He was going; to be. It had been foretold about Him 159 Ver. 2. 2 SAMUEL XXII Ver. 2, that He was to be a Prophet — a Priest — a King — a Shepherd — a Father — a Friend — a Counsellor — a Comforter — a Leader — a Refuge and a Shield. He was compared to a great many things that were useful, and interesting, and beautiful. And among these He was compared to a rock. David was speak- ing of Jesus, in the chapter in which our text is found, when he said, ' The Lord is my Rock '. And there are a great many other places in which He is spoken of as a rock. The Prophet Isaiah says in one place, ' In the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength ' (xxvj. 4). In the Hebrew Bible the word for 'everlasting streng-th ' means also ' the Rock of Ages '. We always think of Jesus when we sing that good old hymn, Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee. And it is right to think so. Here we see the beauty of Jesus our King in the titles applied to Him. Now, we are to think of Jesus as — The Rock. And the question we have to try and answer is — What kind of a rock do we find in Jesus ? There are four things about this rock of which we must speak, if we wish to understand just what kind of a rock it is that we find in Jesus. I. It is 'A Broad Rock ' that we Find in Jesus. — Every other rock is confined to some one particular place. If you want to get any benefit from it, you must go to the place where the rock is found. We have all heard, for example, about the ' Rock of Gibraltar'. This is a great mountain of rock in the southern part of Spain, at the entrance into the Mediterranean Sea. It belongs to England. The English people have made a fort or citadel out of that mountain rock. Rooms and galleries are cut through the heart of it. Port-holes for canon are made through those walls of solid rock. That is the strongest fortress in the world. It is so strong that it cannot be taken. The heaviest canon-balls can make no impression upon it. If you and I wei-e in danger of being attacked, we should be entirely safe, provided we could only get into that rocky fortress of Gibraltar. But suppose that we are in danger here, in our own country, and that strong rock is thousands of miles away, will it be of any use to us ? No. It is too far off. We cannot reach it. But when we think of Jesus as our Rock, He is not, like the Rock of Gibraltar, confined to one pai-ticular place. He is in every place. He is indeed a hroad Rock. This Rock is so broad that it may be found in every country. In any part of the world it is easy to get on this Rock. This is what David meant to teach us when he said, ' From the ends of the earth will I cry unto Thee — when my heart is overwhelmed — lead me to the Rock ' (Ps. lxi. 2). If we want to know how broad this Rock is, we must notice what sort of people get on to it. Where Am I Going? — One fine summer evenhig, as the sun was going down, a man was seen trving to make his way through the lanes and cross-roads that led to his village home. His unsteady, staggering way of walking showed that he had been drinking, and though he had lived in that village more than thirty years, he was now so drunk that it was impos- sible for him to find his way home. Quite unable to tell where he was, at last he uttered a dreadful oath, and said to a person going by, ' I've lost my way ; where am I going ? ' The man thus addressed was an earnest Christian. He knew the poor drunkard very well, and pitied him greatly. When he heard the inquiry, ' Where am I going ? ' in a quiet, sad, solemn way he answered, 'To ruin.' The poor staggering man stared at him wildly for a moment, and then murmured, with a groan, 'That's so'. 'Come with me,' said the other kindly, 'and I'll take you home.' The next day came ; the effect of the liquor had passed away, but those two little words, tenderly and lovingly spoken to him, did not pass away. ' To ruin ! To ruin ! ' he kept whispering to himself. ' It's true, I'm going to ruin. O God, help me, and save me.' Thus he was stopped in his way to ruin. By earnest prayer to God he sought the gi-ace which made him a true Christian. His feet were established on the Rock. It was a Rock broad enough to reach that poor, miserable drunkard, and it lifted him up from his wretchedness and made a useful, happy man of him. II. Jesus is 'A His:h Rock' as well as a Broad One. David's prayer was — ' Lead me to the Rock that is higher than /'. We think of heaven as a high place. And so it is. God calls it — ' The high and holy place' (Is. Lvii. 15). And one reason why we may speak of Jesus as higher than we are is because He is in heaven, and we are on earbh. But there is another sense in which we use this word ' high '. We apply it to character as well as to place. For ex- ami)le, we sometimes say of a person in whom we have no confidence that he is a mean. Low fellow. Then we use the word low as meaning had — a bad character. And so, on the other hand, when speaking of a person who is good, and honest, and noble-iiearted, we say he has a high character. And so the word high sometimes means that which is noble or good. And Jesus may well be called high in this .sense ; because He is the best and noblest of all beings. And He not only has this character Himself, but He makes those who know and love Him share it with Him. It has been well said that — ' A Christian is the highest style of man '. And this is true of boys and girls too. And so we may well say that when we become Christians we are led to a ' Rock that is higher than we are '. It makes us better than we were before. Those who are really on this Rock may truly be said to be on a high Rock, because they are on a Rock that will help them to become good, and kind, and generous and noble. Let us look at some examples of those who are on this high Rock, and see what kind of persons they are. 160 Ver. 2 SAMUEL XXII., XXIII Ver. 15. ' My 'Mancipation Book.' — In the year 1834 the British and Foreign Bible Society sent a large number of eojiies of the New Testament and I'sulms to the West India Islands, to be distributed among the negroes theie. The distribution of these books took place at the time of the Emancipation of the negroes, or their freedom from slavery. They came to think that, somehow or other, the Bible was the cause of their freedom ; and so they were accustomed to call it their ' 'Mancipation Book '. Some time after this a Christian lady, who wished to make herself useful, was visiting one afternoon at a negro hut on one of the plantations. After talking for awhile, with the negi'o woman who lived there, she saw a fine large copy of the Bible on the shelf, and pointing to it, she said : — ' Nanny, what handsome book is that you have there ? ' ' Oh, missis ! dat's my 'Mancipation Book.' ' But it's of no use to you, Nanny, because you can't read it' ' For true, missis, me no able to read him ; but me pickaninnies (children) can.' ' Well, but your pickaninnies have books of their own to read. You might spare that for somebody who can read, but who has no Bible.' ' No, missis,' replied Nanny, with great earnestness, * no ; me no able to spare him at all. Dat book de one watchman for me house.' ' How so ?' asked the lady. ' Why, missis, beforetime, Nanny's temper u.sed to rise too strong for her. Me no able to keep him down at all. But now, when de bad temper would rise, de book stan dar, and him say, " No, no, Nanny, you no go for to do dat. Dat is wicked ".' And so Nanny, who had been one of the most ill- tempered antl disagreeable persons on the plantation, became, through the grace of God, a thoroughly changed woman. The mere sight of the Bible which she could not read was a help to her in sub- duing her bad temper. It was a high Rock to which she was led when she became a Christian. It was higher than she was, and gave her a better character than she could have had if she had not been led to that Rock. in. This is ' A Sheltering Rock '. — Sometimes we find in a high rock, or on the side of a mountain, a place cleft out nicely lined with soft moss. There you can sit down and find protection and comfort when the wind is blowing, or the rain is beating, or the storm is bursting. That is a sheltering rock. And it is such a rock as this that Jesus is compared to in the Bible. David is speaking of Him when he says : ' In the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion, in the secret of His tabernacle shall He hide me ; He shall set me up upon a rock' (Ps. xxvii. 5). IV. The Last Thing to speak of about this Rock is that it is 'A WelNfurnished Rock '. — Some- times we see a great rock that has ferns growing on it. There is plenty of nice soft moss and beautiful flowers there, and streams of clear, cold, sparkling water are flowing down from it. And in the Bible we read of honey being found in some rocks, and oil also. And sometimes gold and silver, and diamonds and other precious gems, are found on rocks. And if we had a rock on which all these beautiful and valuable things could be found, it would be very proper to speak of that as a ' well-furnished rock '. But I suppose there is no one rock in all the world on which all these things could be found. But we have just such a Rock in our Blessed Saviour. He is indeed 'a well-furnished Rock '. Everything that we need for the happiness and salvation of our souls, both in this world and in the world to come, we find in Him. David is speaking of those who are on this Rock when he says, ' Those who seek the Lord shall want no manner of thing that is good ' (Ps. x.xxiv. 10). And the Apostle is speaking of those who are on this Rock, too, when he says — ' My God shall supply all your need from the riches of His grace in Chi-ist Jesus ' (Phil. IV. 19). ' I've been on this Rock for forty years,' said an aged Christian, ' and it grows brighter all the time '. What a bles.sed thing to be on such a Rock. — Richard Newton, The Beauty of the King, p. 187. SELF=DENIAL (A Lenten Sermon) ' David longed, and said, O that one would give me drink of the vyater of the vyell of Bethlehem, which is by the gate ! ' — 2 Samuel xxiu. 15. The fortunes of the minstrel-king (as David is often called) had become tlesperate indeed. The last at- tempt had been made for reconciliation with jealous and vindictive Saul. David had bidden farewell, with many tears, to his much loved and faithful Jonathan, and had sent his aged parents for safety beyond the Jordan to take refuge with their ancestral kinsman of Moab. Saul, with bloodthirsty hate, was pursuing him like a partridge on the mountains on one side, while the Philistines were pressing him closely and perseveringly on the other. As a last resort David had taken up his abode in one of the wild caverns of the mountains, wliich he had known as a shepherd bo}' ; and here he was joined by a detachment of men from Judah and Ben- jamin, and by several mountaineers of Gad who swam the swollen waters of the Jordan, to cast in their fortunes with the outlawed hero. It was while in command of these two bands that a company of Philistines had swept down on the vale of Rephaim, in harvest-time, and the beasts of burden were being laden with the ripe corn. The officer who had charge of these fierce idolaters was keeping a close watch in the neighbouring village of Bethlehem. Meanwhile the burning rays of the Eastern sun shone down on the bare rocks amidst which David and his companions were nestled, and as he remem- bered the home of his boyhood, with its terraced slopes, luxuriant with wheat, and covered with vines and olives, his fainting soul sank within him, and he cried out, in a passionate buret of home-sicknesa 161 11 Ver. 15. 2 SAMUEL XXIII Ver. 20. •which he could not suppress, ' O that one would give me drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate ! ' It was the same precious water which was afterwards conveyed by great conduits of hewn stone to Jerusalem, Three of his devoted captains, Abishai, Benaiah, and Eleazar, heard this childish wish, and although the much-dreaded Philistines occupied the field be- tween their mountain fastness and the fountain from which David longed to drink, they set forth instantly, fought their way, hand to hand, through the ranks of the enemy, and brought back the water. The noble spirit of the poet-king rose at the sight, and counting that for which three devoted men had thus risked their lives as too sacred for him to drink, he devoutly poured it on the ground as an offering to the Lord. A missionary in India says in his journal : ' I one day saw some of the natives assembled for worehip with their catechist, when my eye fell upon a woman whose clothes were rather dirty, and I asked about her. " Sir," she answered, " I am a poor woman, and this is my only dress." "Well," I inquired, "have you always been so poor?" " No, I once had both money and jewels, but a year ago, when the thieves took them from me, they oflf'ered to give all back if I would deny Christ. I would rather be a poor Chris- tian than a rich heathen ! " ' I have related these two beautiful stories to illus- trate my subject, self-denial — a subject most ap- propriate for this season of Lent. I am truly glad to know that so many children are now giving up things which they are fond of, that they may show a proper regard to the solemn time which, for long ages, has been set apart for fasting and special devotion. Nobody can be truly great or good who does not learn to practise self-denial. It is simply absurd to say that children cannot, and ought not to be made to keep Lent. Do you remember the words of the Lord, recorded in the book of Joel, which are always read as the Epistle on Ash-Wednesday : ' Blow the trumpet in Zion ; sanctify a fast ; call a solemn assembly ; gather the people ; sanctify the congregation ; assemble the elders ; gather the children '. And for what? That these children may be taught to join in the prayers, and to practise the self- denials by which the wrath of the Almighty may be turned aside. We do not mean that the young can do the.se things to the same extent as their elders, but they can do something. They can keep away from the cake and candy shops, and be content with plain food at home, and think much less than common of their favourite amusements, thus observing Lent, and learning the wholesome lesson of self-denial. There is something about selfishness which excites in us real disgust. Indeed, it is only another name, and a milder one, for piggishness. We are accustomed to call children who are very greedy, and who cram themselves on all occasions almost to bursting, little pigs. Such little pigs are pretty sure to grow uj) to be big ones. If Lent, there- fore, did us no other good than to teach us to deny ourselves, and to practise self-control, it has accom- plished an important work. The child who gives up a cake during Lent, and thus saves a penny for the poor, has practised a self- denial, and He who did not overlook the widow's mite, will never be unmindful of the smallest offering made out of love to the Lord Jesus. When we have learned, after many vain and discouraging efforts, to deny ourselves in little things, we have taken the only sure plan for accomplishing the same in regard to great ones. Good Bishop Wilson, in his ' Sacra Pri- vata' (a small book of private prayers, which has helped to fit hundreds and thousands for heaven), mentioned a variety of things in which the spirit of self-denial may be brought into exercise. 'Every day,' he says, ' deny yourself some satisfaction — your eyes, objects of mere curiosity ; your tongue, every- thing that may feed vanity, enmity ; the palate, dainties ; the ears, flattery, and whatever corrupts the heart ; the body, ease and luxury, bearing cold, hunger, restless nights, ill health, unwelcome news, contempt, and ingratitude with patience and resig- nation to the will of God.' I know how much easier it is to say what ought to be done, than actually to bend our stubborn wills to do it ; but this does not render it the less necessaiy to lay down rules in books and sermons, which may help men, women and children in their efforts to please God. A good old lady who saw her niece worrying her- self too much about packing away her superfluous clothes, gave her an excellent receipt from a very old book. Perhaps the advice may be useful to others : ' Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal ; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth con-upt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal '. ' In other words,' says the old lady, peering archly over the vims of her round spectacles, ' look over the wardrobe, and bring out coats, shawls, cloaks, and everything that can be spared, and send them to the poor. This will do more to keep out the moths than all the cedar boxes and snufF and camphor in the world ! ' If you remember even half what I have said to you, there will be quite enough left to show you the duty and the pleasure of learning to practise self-denial. You cannot learn to do it in your own strength, but the Holy Spirit of God will be ready to help you when you ask for His aid. — John N. Norton, Milk and Honey, p. 142. THE LION ' He went down also and slew a lion in the midst of a pit in time of snow ' — 2 Samuel xxni. 20. This text treats of the way in which lions were hunted in Bible lands before the introduction of firearms. 162 Ver. 20. 2 SAMUEL XXIII Ver. 20. A deep pit was dug in the woods, and carefully covered over with witheied leaves, and when the monarch of the forest came out in seaich of his piey and stumbled into the trap, he was easily secured by the wily hunters, or forthwith dispatched with their long- pointed spears. Benaiah, however, did a more valiant deed than this. He went down single-handed to the bottom of the pit and slew the lion in the depth of winter. Evidently he was one of those muscular giants whom all young Britons delight to honour — a very Samson in sheer herculean valour, a brave and dauntless warrior, who was well worthy of a place among King David's mighty men. David himself, as a young shepherd, had gone after a lion and a bear, and rescued a lamb out of their teeth. And Samson, when going down to the vine- yards of Timnath, had also slain a young lion which came out and roared against him. But both of these encounters had taken place in the open, where there was a fair field and no favour ; whereas Benaiah met his antagonist in the most dangerous circumstances — in the middle of winter, when the lion was raven- ous with hunger, and at the bottom of a lion-trap, where there was no possibility of escape. Clearly this man was a hero who would neither flinch nor fear : ' He slew a lion in the midst of a pit in time of snow '. Brave and Fearless — that is the lesson which is written large for all healthy and noble-minded boys, and it is taught by the character of the lion, no less than by the courage of the lion-slayer. There are few books in the Bible that do not contain some refer- ence to this majestic animal, and it is always introduced as an emblem of strength and force, whether used for a good purpose or abused for a bad one. Jesus Him- self is spoken of as the Lion of the tribe of Judah, and our adversary the devil is described by Peter as a roaring lion walking about and seeking whom he may devour. I. The Main Characteristics of the Lion. 1. It is the incarnation of strength. Size for size, it is one of the strongest of beasts. It can kill a man or an antelope with one blow of its terrible paw ; and so powerful are the muscles of the neck, that it has been known to carry away in its mouth an ordinary ox. Well may its name signify in the Arabic language ' the strong one '. 2. It is also celebrated for courage. A lioness is simply the most terrible animal in existence when called upon to defand her cubs. We ;dl know how a hen, when concerned about her chicks, will beat off both the fox and the hawk by the reckless fury of her attack. And it may be imagined what the fury of a lioness will be when she has to fight for her young ones. She cares little for the number of her foes or the nature of their weapons. 3. Another marked feature is that ' in the dark there is no animal so invisible as the lion. Almost every hunter has told a similar story of the lion's ap- proach at night, of the terror displayed by the dogs and cattle as he drew near, and of the utter inability to see him, though he was so close that they could hear his breathing.' 4. The main characteristic, however, is the lion's roar. This is said to be truly awful. Gordon Gum- ming speaks of it as being ' extremely grand and peculiarly striking. He startles the forest with loud, deep-toned, solemn roars, I'epeated five or six times in quick succession, each increasing in loudness to the third or fourth, when his voice dies away in five or six low, muffled sounds, very much resembling dis- tant thunder '. It is to this Amos refers when he speaks of his own prophetic call : ' The lion hath roared : who will not fear ? The Lord God hath spoken : who can but prophesy ' ? II. Two Lessons from the Lion. 1. It is glorious to have a lion's strength, but it is inglorious to use it like a lion. When this is not attended to, heroism degenerates into big-boned animalism, and courage into selfishness and ferocity. What might have been the glory of our expanding manhood and a tower of defence to the weak and defenceless becomes the Titanian arrogance of the bully and the senseless boast of the braggart. This is to imitate the lion in a bad sense, and ' I'd rather be a dog and bay the moon than such a Roman '. This is to walk in the footsteps of those Assyrian monarchs who took the lion as their favourite em- blem, and counted it their greatest glory to lash the nations in their fury. But all this is selling oneself to do wickedness in the sight of the Lord, and becoming willing captives to him who walketh about as a roar- ing lion seeking whom he may devour. 2. It is glorious to have a lion's strength, if the strength be the measure of our gentleness. It is in this sense that Jesus is the Lion of the tribe of Judah. He conquers by stooping. His other name is the Lamb. — John Adams, Kingless Folk, p. 156. 163 THE FIRST BOOK OF KINGS SOLOMON AT GIBEON I Kings hi. 5-15. There was a farmer who had a very beautiful farm. Somebody said to him : — ' Farmer, what makes your farm so nice ? How is it you have such a very good farm ? ' The farmer said, ' I don't know. I only i- to think about that — God giving something to iiolomon while he ivas asleep. While Solomon was at Gibeon, God spoke to him in the night, and God said to him, ' Ask what I shall give thee'. Solomon had to make the choice. I wonder what you would have chosen if God had said that to you. Now we will think about what Solomon says. He had to make a choice. He had all the world to choose from. God said, ' Anything you like, ask, and I will give it to you '. It is a very difficult thing to make a good choice. There are three very good choices in the Bible, and two very bad, and two where the persons did not choose at all. Think of the three good choices. Moses made a very good choice when he did ' not choose to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter' — i.e., to be called 'heir to the kingdom,' which he could have been ; but ' chose rather to suffer affliction with the people of God '. That was a good choice, and God blessed him. Joshua made a very good choice when he told the people, ' Choose you this day whom ye will serve '. / have made m,y choice : ' As for me and my house we will serve the Lord '. And David made a very good choice when he said, when trouble was coming, ' Let me fall into the hand of the Lord, and not into the hand of man '. These were tliree good choices. Poor Eve made a bad choice when she chose the tree that was 'good for food, and pleasant to the eyes,' instead of ' the tree of life '. Lot made a bad choice when he chose pretty Sodom and Gomorrah, though the people were very wicked, because there was plenty of fruit and good grapes. These are the two had choices. But what do I mean by saying there were two that would not choose at all ? What did St. Paul say? He did not know whether to live or die. He said, ' What I shall choose I wot not ; for I am in a strait betwixt two '. So he would not choose at all, but left God to choose for him. And Jesus Christ Himself would not choose. You read in the twelfth of St. John : ' Now is My soul troubled; and what shall I say ? Father, save Me from this hour : but for this cause came I unto this hour.' I leave it to God. Whatever will be for God's glory. 'Father, gloiify Thy name.' So there were three good choices, two bad ones, and two who would not choose at all. That is what I advise you to do — leave it to God. Now I want to think a little about what Solomon said when God gave him his choice what he would have; do you remember what he said? 'Give me an understanding heart.' How came Solomon to make so good a choice? I think because he was so humble. It is the humble people who always do 164 Vv. 5-15. 1 KINGS III Vv. 5-15. best. He said, ' I am but a little child,' though he come out of it well— because you are thinking of was a great king ; ' I know not how to go out or come in '. So humble was he ! Are you humble? \Vhat is it to be humble? Somebody says that to be humble is ' Little I ' and ' Great You '. Do you like that term ? We gener- ally like the humblest things best. You know the lark sings most beautifully as he mounts upwards to the skies, singing as he soars ! Where does the lark live? He is the lowest builder of all the birds. What does the nightingale do ? The sweetest bird in the wood lives always in the shade, and likes to sing best in the dark — loves not to be seen — is very humble. Why does that branch with all the apples upon it stoop down so much ? Because it has the most fruit, therefore it stoops. Why does the ear of wheat that is most full of wheat stoop down the most? Because there is plenty in it. Why does a well-laden ship lie the deepest in the water ? Because it has got most in it Who are those that have got most in them ? Those who bring forth the most fruit. Who are those that soar the highest, and sing the sweetest ? Those who are the humblest. Solomon says very humbly, ' 1 am but a little child ; 1 know not how to go out or come in '. Let me tell you thi-ee things St. Paul said about himself He wrote his Epistles to the Corinthians and the Ephesians before he wrote his Epistles to Timothy. And why do 1 say this ? To show how he grew in humility. In the Epistle to the Corinthians he says, ' I am the least of the Apostles, that am not meet to be called an Apostle'. To the Ephesians he says, ' I am not worthy to be called a saint ; I am less than the least of all saints '. And in his Epistle to Timothy he says, ' I am the woi-st of men ; I am the greatest sinner ; I am the chief of sinners '. So he first says ' I am not worthy to be called an Apostle ' ; then, ' 1 am not a good man ' ; and next, ' 1 am the greatest sinner in the world '. So he grew in humility, though he was, perhaps, the greatest man that ever lived. I think that was the reason why Solomon made so good a choice — because he was so humble, and said, ' I am but a little child ! ' Can you go out of a room properly ? Can you come into a room properly ? It is not everybody that knows how to do that. I dare say if it were an emptv room you could ijo into it or out of it very nicely indeed. But supposing it were full of gentle- men and ladies, could you then go into the room very nicely, and walk out quite nicely, if all the people were looking at you? Supposing you had to walk across a great stage, and thousands of people were looking at you, could you do it as well as you can walk across your room at home, when no one was looking at you ? Why cannot you? Because you, think of yourself, and what people think of you. ' How do 1 look ? ' is your thought. Therefore, being shy, thinking about yourself, you cannot do it well. That is why you cannot sometimes go into a room tir yourself Be very humble. Do not care what people say. Then you will do it very nicely indeed. There- foie Solomon made a good choice because he was hmnble. What did he choose ? He did not choose to be rich. He might have said, 'O Lord, make me very rich ! ' The Hebrew word for ' riches ' means ' heavy '. In the pi'ophet Habakkuk we read, those who are 'rich' are covered with thick claij. ' Woe to him that ladeth himself with thick clay I ' And sometimes now pennies and halfpennies, shillings and sixpences, and gold sovereigns are very heavy. They are 'thick clay '. They weigh people down very heavily, down and down. In this way they cannot do just what they ought to do, because of this ' thick clay ' of money. I do not wonder that the Jews have the same word for ' riches ' and ' heaviness '. You remember reading of a man on board ship once when the ship caught fire ; he could swim very well, and he was going to jump over and .swim ashore ; then he remembered he had left a gi'eat many sove- reigns down in the cabin. He went down and filled his pockets with lots of money ; then, coming up on deck, he jumped over into the sea with all his sove- reigns in his pocket ! They were so heavy he could not swim with them, so down he went to the bottom of the sea ! I know many people in life who would have swam very well if it had not been for their money. Their money brought them down to the ground ! And Solomon did not choose, either, to be a very great man. Let me tell you about four great men. Alexander the Great was a very great man. What was the end of Alexander the Great ? He conquered many countries, and cried like a baby because he could not find another country to conquer ! He would set fire to a city after conquering it ; he often used to get drunk, and in one of his drunken freaks he killed his own friend ! His death was the result of drunkenness. That was the end of Alexander the Great. ' Thick clay ! ' What good did all his great- ness do to him ? I will tell you of another great man — Hannibal, who repeatedly conquered Italy ; but in the end he took poison in an out-of-the-way place, that no one knew anything about. Ccesar took eight hundred cities and killed millions of men. But what was the end of Ca?sar ? In the place where he held his court those who had once been his friends stabbed him, killed him I That was his end. Bonaparte conquered almost all Europe. But there, in that lone isle of St. Helena, he spent his last days, and died almost solitary, almost unknown. Such was the end of almost the greatest man that ever lived. Solomon did not choose any greatness ; he chose ' an understanding heart ' ; he chose clevei'ness, learning, understanding, and with it he chose a heart, amiable, loving, kind. 16-5 Vv. 5 15. 1 KINGS III., VII Ver. 50 I have known (did you ever know ?) people very clever indeed — for instance, a boy or girl at school, very clever but uncommonly proud, because so clever, hard, unkind, selfish. And did you ever know a boy or girl affectionate, but very soft, with almost a soft head, an idiot, could not get on at all, but very kind and affectionate, nevertheless ? Do not be either of those characters. Have an ' understanding heart ! ' Have both. But where do you think ' understanding,' wisdom, good sense, cleverness dwell ? Where are they most ? In the head or heart ? Can you tell me ? Perhaps you thought to do your lesson well because it was all in the head. But I am sure you are wrong. Think more of your heart, and you will do better. If you will be a good boy or girl, love God and do your duty. You will get on well if your hearts are right. Do not only think of your head (think of your head), hut think most of your heart. If you want to get on well with your lessons, remember understanding has to do as much with the heart as with the head. ' An understanding heart '. Reason is the head. Where is faith ? In the heart. One day Reason and Faith took a walk together. And Faith said to Reason when starting, ' Reason, you cannot travel with me '. Reason said, ' Yes, I can '. So they set off travelling together. Presently they came to a river, and Reason said, ' I cannot ford that river'. Faith said, 'I can. So now, Reason, you get on my back'. And Faith carried Reason over the river. By and by they came to a great high mountain. Reason said, ' I can never get over that mountain, this is too high for me '. Faith said, ' I can carry you on my back '. So Faith canied Reason over the mountain. Do you understand what I mean ? Which did best ? Faith. There are three things — truth, wisdom, love. Then let wisdom and love be on your right hand and on your left. Keep truth before you, and you will go right through life. This is very much what Solomon chose. Follow truth, wisdom, and love, and you will always go right. A little boy said to his father once, ' Father, what is the difference between a cherubim and a seraphim ? ' His father said, ' A cherub means knowledge ; a seraph means a flame. And therefore it is generally thought that the cherubim have a great deal of knowledge ; and the seraphim, having this " flame," have a good deal of love.' The little boy said, ' I would rather be a seraph than a cherub ; have greater love than knowledge '. I think we shall be greater than the angels in heaven, and be both cherubim and seraphim there, having a great deal of knowledge and of love also. Try to have both now — 'an understanding heart' ; be great in knowledge and in love. If you have a great deal of knowledge without love you will not do well ; and if you have got a great deal of love without knowledge it is not well ; but follow Solomon's example and you will have a happy life. God answered Solomon's request, and said he should have also what he had not asked for, viz. ' riches, long life, and honour '. In the old temples of Rome you could only get to the Temple of Honour through the gate of the Temple of Virtue. So Solomon acted, and God was pleased with him, and gave him more than he asked. God gives us sometimes more than we ask. There was a little girl who had a doll which she was very fond of. Her aunt kept fowls, and one day her aunt said to her, ' I will bring you some feathers of my fowls to make a hat for your doll '. The little girl was much pleased. In a few days her aunt came, and brought her some very pretty feathers to make a hat with for her doll. She also brought some beauti- ful pieces of silk to make a frock for the doll. She was to sew them together and make up a pretty little frock. The little girl said, ' Whatever made auntie think of the silk ? I do not know. She is like Jesus, she gives more than she promises.' I think the little girl was right. Jesus does give more than He promises. Take a cup, and present it to God. Say, ' O Lord, fill my cup '. He will fill it so that it will run over. It will be a ' mantling cup '. In the twenty-third Psalm David .says, ' My cup runneth over ' — not full only, but mantling, running over. Try, if you ask rightly, if God will not give you more than you ask. Now, I want to ask you one thing. The time is come for you to make your choice. I want you to do it now. We talk about Solomon's choice — how wisely he chose. What will you ask ? A little girl said her prayer was, ' O Lord, keep me from robbere, keep me from fire, keep me fi-om naughty boys. Amen.' She told God exactly what she meant. She was a very little girl, and she asked God just what she wanted. What will you ask God ? I want you to decide whether you will go to heaven or hell. Will you choose worldly things or heavenly ? Will you choose Jesus, to be Jesus' own child ? Will you make that wise choice ? I don't know that I want you to do it before you leave the church ; but I wish you to do it to-day — before you go to bed to- night. Make a wise choice. Tell God what you wish. There was an old king once who had taken a cap- tive, and he said to his captive, ' You must choose whom you will serve. Will you be a friend to Rome ? ' And the man hesitated. Then the king, with the rod he had in his hand, made a circle round the cap- tive, and said to him, ' You must make your choice before you cross that circle. I will not allow you to go out of that circle before you make your choice.' — James Vaughan. TRIMMING THE LIGHT 'The snuffers.' — i Kings vh. 50. You smile at such a text, and no wonder ! But snuffers were very useful in the Temple ; they kept the lights trim and bright. Therefore, they are spoken about again and again in the Bible. We 166 Ver. 50. 1 KINGS VII., XV Ver. 4. don't see snuffers very often now in the city, where we burn gas. But every boy and girl has seen them in the country, at all events, where candles are used. They look like a pair of scissors carrying a box on one leg and the lid on the other. The lid ' snaps ' the wick and shuts it into the box and extinguishes it — 'ust as charitable people keep unpleasant things to themselves, and so quietly put an end to their offensive odour. Now you see what snuffers are for ; they are for vnaking a dull light shine brighter. When the candle has been burning for some time it seems to get dull and drowsy, then ' snap ' go the snuffers, and the light gets bright ! There are snuffers which do that for boys and girls, and men and women, too, for that matter. There was that sum you worked out on your slate. It was all wrong. What did the master do ? Rub it all out. That was the ' snap ' of the snuffers. It made you brighter ; you took more care over your sums next time. It was the same when you were ' taken down ' in the class over that half-learnt lesson. That humbling was the ' snap ' of the snuffers ; it made you master your lessons better next time. You see these men lopping the trees ? Why do they do that ? To make them bear more fruit. The trees are the better for the sharp snuffers- — -and so are you. Never be discour- aged. When anything happens you don't like, think of the snuffers, and let your light shine out all the better. When mother chides you, don't think she wants to find fault. It isn't that ; but she sees your light needs the snuffers, and so she is using them kindly, gently, to make you a brighter, better boy or girl. Sometimes you are the snuffers. That's funny, but it's true ! There's your little brother, for in- stance, he isn't half so wise as you, and sometimes he makes mistakes. Put him right ; but take care how you use the snuffers. If you use them carelessly you may put out the light altogether. What I mean is this, you may so discourage him that he won't have any heart to try to do better. Therefore, use the snuffers gently. Don't call him ' stupid ' or ridicule him. Trim the light kindly and neatly ; don't be rough and put it out. Remember, God wants your light to shine that others may get blessing by it ; so you must expect Him now and again to trim it. Look at that candle ; it has been burning these hours. What a long, burnt wick it has got hanging over. It doesn't give any light, and, pah ! what an oflfensive smoke comes from it. But it is quite content. It says, ' Why should I part with any of my wick? it's mine, and I mean to stick to it, whether I give light to others or not'. That's the selfish candle, and the selfish boy or girl is just like it. Come, quick with the snuffers ! — we must teach that candle that it wasn't made to please itself but to give light to others. And that is what God does with every one He loves. By one way or other He tries to trim their light that it may shine the brighter. Think of this when any trouble comes : God wants to make use of it to make you braver, better, purer, more faithful and more loving; so, whenever you fail, don't be discouraged ; just take it like the ' snap ' of the snuffers, and resolve to do better next time. — J. Reid Howatt, 'fhe Churchetle, p. 7. LAMPS ' Nevertheless for David's sake did the Lord his God give him a lamp in Jerusalem, to set up his son after him, and to establish Jerusalem.'— I Kings xv. 4. I HAVE spoken to you before to-day about 'a candle set on a candlestick '. I am anxious not to repeat what I then said. Lamps were used in the East for many purposes ; they were used by those who had to journey by night along dangerous paths, and the Psalmist prayed that the Lord's truth might be ' a lamp unto his feet ' as the lamp was a light to the weary pilgrim in the darknessof night. Lamps were also used in the house, used, as I have told you, in the room in which the family were congregated, and were placed high upon a lampstand so that every one in the room might have a share of the light. They were also used in God's Temple. The golden candle- stick was there. The lights were kept burning so that the Temple was never dark. It is impoi'tant to remember, moreover, that not only was this true of the Temple, but the homes of the Jews were never dark. Of course, by day there was no need of the lamp, but by night, even among the poorest of the poor, a little light was kept burning until the dawn. And when people come from the East to our country they ai'e greatly impressed with the difference. In many instances, when we retire for the night, there is not a light to be found any- where in the house. Now, an Oriental does not like that custom, and will not readily adopt it. He thinks that a house without light, even in the darkest hour of the night, is a house no longer inhabited. Hence, in Palestine you cannot pass a house in the depth of night which has no light in it. Now this fact makes it easier for us to understand the verses I am about to read to you. ' The light of the wicked shall be put out, and the spark of his fire shall not shine. The light shall be dark in his tabernacle, and his candle shall be put out with him ' (Job XVIII. 5, 6). You know what that means : some- one lives in a certain house, or it may be a tent, but if he dies and there is no one else to take his place, the candle that was kept burning there every night is kept burning no longer. That is, when he dies the light goes out in his house. There is no one to succeed him : no one to take his place and bear his name honourably when he himself is gone. There is another verse in the same book : ' How oft is the candle (or if you look at the margin, "the lamp") of the wicked put out I and how oft cometh their destruction upon them ! ' (Job xxi. 17). Again in the Book of Proverbs (xiii. 9) we read, ' The light of the righteous rejoiceth, but the lamp of the wicked shall be put out'. Now let us return to the Book of Kings, this very book where my text is : ' And unto 167 Ver. 4. 1 KINGS XV., XVII his son will I give one tribe, that: David My servant may have a light (or, according to the Hebrew, "a lamp") alway before me in Jerusalem (1 Kings xi. 36). Again in my test we read : 'Nevertheless for David's sake did the Lord his God give him a lamp in Jerusalem '. AVhile the lamp was kept burning, an Oriental concluded that people dwelt there, but when the lamp was put out, he concluded that there was no one dwelling there. Now I think that is very significant. The Lord gave a lamp to David ' to set up his sun after him,' so that the lamp shall be kept burning by him and by his children after him. This was a guarantee that David and his descendants would have a home in Jerusalem for many, many years. Now, the Lord has given us a lamp which ought to shine in our homes, and a lamp that ought never to go out in the darkness of the night. Now, what is that lamp He has given us ? It is His Word which He has given us to lighten our darkness. What a blessing it is when not only in our sanctu- aries and in our Sunday schools, but in our homes, this lamp is burning. I trust we never darken the lamp by anything we do, and that we do all we can to keep it burning brightly. This is the only lamp that can lighten our darkness in times of sorrow. You do not know much about sorrow yet, but you will find, as you get on in life, that there will be trials, that a darkness will come upon you in which you will need all the light that God's lamp can give. Oh, to possess it now, and keep it always burning in the home, and wherever we go ! The Bedouin tribes, whenever they settle down for the night on their journeyings, have their camp fires. They carry thorny undergrowths with them, and, at night, pile them round their camp and set fire to them, so that they may be guarded against wild beasts as well as against being surprised by the enemy. Thus they sleep in the light of their fires. The Prophet Isaiah refers to this custom when speaking of some people who were too fond of sleeping in the light of their own fires rather than in God's light : 'Behold all ye that kindle a fire, that compass your- selves about with sparks : walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of Mine hand ; ye shall lie down in sorrow.' They were men who lit camp lights of their own, like the Bedouin companies in the desert lighting their little camp fires and rejoicing in them, rather than like the Israelites having God's pillar of fire — for ' in the daytime also He led with a cloud, and all the night with a light of fire'. And when speaking to Jerusalem He said, ' I will be a wall of fire around you and a glory in your midst '. There are many men who think they can go through the world in the light of their own kindling, but God comes to us, and comes to you, early in life and says : ' I will be your Guide : you will have to pass through darkness sometimes, but My light shall shine, your lamp shall never go out '. — David Davies, Talks to Men, Women, and Children, p. 408. A CHILDREN'S CHAPTER I Kings xvii. Some chapters in the Bible belong to the children. The seventeenth of Fir.st Kings is one of them. It is the story of the ivavens that fed the Prophet Elijah, and of the bai rel of meal that wasted not in the home of the widow at Zarephath. I still remember how often I turned to this chapter when I was a child. I liked to read about the ravens and the barrel of meal. I thought at the time that I understood the chapter ; but I know now that it was only little bits of it I understood, and even these in a way that was poor. There are two things in the chapter in respect of which my thoughts were those of a very little child. I did not understand all that was meant by the words, ' There shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to My word '. I did not know, as I came to do when I was older, that they meant death to man and beast. I did not think of the sheep and the cattle, nor of the mothers and babies, that must die for want of water and of the food which water helps to grow. I did not think of the fields that could grow no corn, and of the people that could have no bread. I did not see that it was all the same to say ' no dew nor rain,' as if the prophet had said ' no harvest, no flowers, no fruit, no grass for the cattle, no corn, no bread for man, and no work for work- people : nothing but hot suns baking hard and dry the earth, and smiting old and young with famine and death '. In my childishness I only thought of wicked Ahab and Jezebel. I said to myself : ' iThey deserved to have a bad time, and to be without rain or dew, for being so cruel to the prophet '. The other thing in which my thoughts were wrong was the brook Cherith. It was very stupid on my part, no doubt, but if I had been a painter at that time, and had been set to make a picture of Elijah at the brook, I should have painted a beautiful little river running through the land, just like an English river, and the prophet sitting on the bank. But how could there be a beautiful river running through the land when there was neither dew nor rain ? Rivers are the children of the dew and the rain. No rain, no brook. The brook Cherith then could not have been like an English brook. It was a deep gully among the hills, a kind of pit far down in the earth, which the winter torrents had dug when rain was plentiful ; a deep pit, hidden out of view of man by brushwood, and cool to sit in, where the sun's rays could not pierce, and full of water which the last rain had left. This was the place to which God sent the prophet. He would be safe hidden there. He would have store of water there. It would be a shelter for him till the evil time went pa.st. Although I was wrong in some bits of my thought as a child, I was not wrong in all. Now that I am a man I think just as when I was a child, that there was a real and right connection between the wicked- ness of Ahab and Jezebel, and God's withholdin2: of 168 1 KINGS XVII dew aiid rain. Wickedness like theirs never goes un- punished. Then and now the ways of evil-doers must be hard. Althougli God does not always take the way of keeping back the rain, in other ways — by vvar, by pestilence, by losses in money, by failures in trade, or by taking away life that is dear — He shows His displeasure against sin. But this is not a chapter to show the judgment of God, but one to tell of His mercies. We learn from some words spoken by our Lord at Nazareth, that all that happened at the brook C'herith haj^pened because He was thinking of the poor widow at Zarephath. This chajiter, therefore, is like a window opening into the very heart of God. It helps us to see the wonders of His love to poor people. Perhaps there was not in all the world at that time a poorer woman than the widow at Zare- phath. Alone with her little boy, with only a hand- ful of meal in the barrel, with no knowledge of where the next handful was to come from, she must have been amongst the poorest of the poor. And she was a heathen : without knowledge of the great things which God had done for the Jews. Yet to this poor widow, to this woman ignorant of God's great deeds, God was about to send the man who was the greatest in Israel — perhaps in the whole world. He was about to send Elijah. It is God's way. When the lost world was to be redeemed. He sent, not some great King, nor some angel, but the greatest in heaven or earth, His own Son, the brightness of His glory. And that Son took the form of a servant, that He might do His Father's will in this work of saving the world. And that is not the whole of this wonder. Not only does God send great ones to poor people, as He sent His own Son to lost people, but He makes it a law that the great ones who are to do His work must first have lessons to prepare them for their work. That was the law even for Jesus. He came into the world to teach men and women to be obedient children to God. But in order to do this He had Himself fii'st to leaiTi obedience. He knew power, He knew command. He knew everything that God's Son in heaven might know ; but obedience as a man He had to learn. And He learned it by the things He suffered. His father set Him to endure hardship, and hunger, and opposi- tion, and mockery, and unjust judgment, and at last death. And He said at every step, ' Not My will, but Thine, O Father'. And so it was with Elijah, who was one of His forerunners. Although the widow at Zarephath was the poor body I have described, the great Elijah had first to learn the lesson she was to be taught, and not till then go and deliver it. The lesson she was to be taught was that God cared for her, and that behind the care for her was love. And Elijah was set by the brook Cherith to learn that very lesson. And morn- ing and evening, as the ravens brought him bread and flesh to eat, he took that lesson into his heart. Those black-winged bringers of the food seemed to say to him evei-y day : ' O Elijah, we are God's servants doing His will ; and we will bring this bread and flesh to thee to show thee that thou art cared for by God — that the wicked Ahab and Jezebel shall not jjrevail against thee '. And I am sure, if we could have been beside Elijah on tho.se mornings and evenings, we should have seen the tears ruiuiing down his cheeks, when his heart buined within him at the thought of the tender and continuous care of God. In reading a chapter like this, boys and girls, and some old people as well, are apt to think that it is not only of an old world they are reading, but of a world that has quite vanished from the earth, and was quite difl'erent from that in which we are living now. People say, ' There are no miracles now ; no ravens bring bread and flesh ; and there are no barrels of meal that waste not'. But that is all a mistake. There are miracles now as many as then, and as wonderful, although they are not wrought for us in the very same way. The miracles of the old times, told of in the Bible, were wrought to help us to open our eyes on the miracles which are being wrought every day in all our homes. The barrel of meal that wasted not — is there a child among all the children who shall hear or read these words who has not seen that miracle ? Is not this very barrel to be found in the home of evei'y child who has had daily bread to eat ? Day by day the child comes down to the break- fast-room, and from the beginning till now want has never been known— or has never been known for long. And although God does not send our bread and flesh by ravens, is it less wonderful, is it less a miracle, if He sends it from countries thousands of miles away in ships ; or from places in our own country by trains which are drawn by fire ? Wherever there is a home in which bread and flesh have not failed, and where water has been sure, where the children have been fed and nourished from infancy up, there, in that home, in one form or other, the very miracles this chapter tells of have been wrought by God. But now, coming back to brook Cherith and the prophet, — the time drew near when he was to leave that shelter, and the school where he had been set to learn his lesson, and go to Zarephath, and teach it to the poor widow and her son. The brook dried up. And God said to His servant, 'Arise, get thee to Zarephath, which belongeth to Zidon ; I have com- manded a widow woman there to sustain thee '. I have often thought of the meeting between those two at the outside of the poor home — the pi'ophet with his hairy mantle, with his tangled hair, with his flashing eyes, faint and wearied with his journey, but with a heart that had hope in God ; and the poor famine-stricken widow, with blanched face, with eyes sunk in her head, with lips black by reason of want, and with a heart in which hope was ail but dead. The very first thing the prophet did was to put her faith to the test. Was this the widow to whom God had sent him ? If it was, there would be some- thing in her heart to which he might appeal. The test he applied was a very hard one. Between death and this poor widow and her child there was 169 1 KINGS XVII Ver. 1. just a handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil — in our cool country it would be called butter — in a dish. No more ! This one meal, and then famine — then death. And Elijah said to her, ' Make for me first '. What a trial of faith was that ! Give up the one handful of meal to a stranger ! Do not think this was selfishness. Elijah was speaking for God, and to try if she had trust in God. Some way or other she was aware that he was speaking for God. Some way or other she had been prepared for this hour. And God gave her grace for the hour when it came. She prepared the food for the prophet first. She said to her son, ' Forbear — it is God who bids me do it '. And from that hour prosperity came into her house : the barrel of meal wasted not, the cruse of oil failed not. All the time the famine hung over Israel and the world, there was plenty in that house. Poor though she was, she opened her heart to the glad news, to the new lesson, that God was caring for her. She showed her faith by receiving the servant of God and giving up her last morsel to him. And God blessed her trustful faith. And now another wonder in God's ways with His children comes to view in this chapter. When God gives one lesson, it is that those who receive it may go on to learn a second. God's children are always at school. Heaven is the highest school of all. And so this poor widow found. She learned that God is the Lord of the meal and the oil ; and that corn-fields and cattle, and milk and honey are only from His love. But it is not enough to learn that we live by God's bread ; we must learn other things of God by which we live as well. And by and by the widow was set to learn her second lesson. It was the lesson that life itself is from God. He laid His hand upon her boy's life. The boy died. There was meal in the barrel, but her boy was dead. Perhaps she had never before thought that her boy was as much a gift from God as the meal. Or, that the life in her boy was a gift as much as the bread by which it was nourished. She learned that now. The Lord took her boy ; and the light went out of her home and out of her heart. She sent up a great cry of anguish. She cried to the prophet, ' O man of God, has this come to me for my sins?' The only thought she could think was that God was angry. She did not yet see that whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth. But she was to learn this second and higher lesson. God made her wise above the wisdom of heathen people in that age. He taught her to trust Him for her daily bread ; He taught her that lesson by first bringing her store of bread low and then filling it with plenty. And in the same way He taught her to trust Him for her life and her son's life. He took life away from her boy. But to show her His power and His love. He gave it back to him again. One other very helpful lesson comes in through this recovery of the widow's son. But I will only mention it It is a lesson for those who have been called to weep as this mother was for their dead. What hap- pened to her was a light shining in a dark place, to foreshow the life and immortality which only Jesus could bring to light. Mothers in Old Testament times had not the same comfort which mothers now may have. They did not know that the dead should rise again. But foregleams of that comfort were given now and again by God. And this giving back of the widow's son was one of these. What happened to that mother will happen to all bereaved mothers who put their trust in God. To them also, but in a more glorious fashion and in a better world, a world where death can never return, God will give back the dear children they have lost. — A. Macleod, The Chil- dren's Portion, p. 149. ELIJAH, THE MODEL REFORMER 'Elijah the Tishbite.' — i Kings xvii. i. When we look at Elijah as the model reformer, we can see four points about this model which we must try to imitate, if we hope to be as successful in our work as he was in carrying on the work he had to do. Elijah was, in the First Place, a Model of ' Promptness'. — Whatever God told him to do, he went to work at once and did it. When he was told to go and tell Ahab the king that there would be no rain for three years, although he knew that it would make him very angiy, he went right away and did it. And three years after this, when he was sent to deliver God's message to Ahab, although he knew that the king had been searching for him everywhere that he might kill him, yet ke went, without a moment's delay, and did j ust what God had told him tp do. He was prompt. And the lesson of promptness is a very important lesson for us to learn and practise, both in the service of God and in all our daily duties. Let us look at some illustrations of promptness and of the good that results from it. Our first story may be called — Promptness leads to success. — A few years ago the owner of a large drug-store advertised for a boy. The next day the store was thronged with boys applying for the place. Among them was a queer- looking little fellow, accompanied by his aunt. ' Can't take him,' said the gentleman ; 'he's too small.' ' I know he's small,' said his aunt, ' but he's prompt and faithful.' After some consultation the boy was set to work. Not long after a call was made on the boys for some one to stay in the store all night. The other boys seemed reluctant to offer their services. But this boy promptly said, 'I'll stav, sir'. In the middle of the night the merchant went into the store to see that all was right, and found the iioy busy at work cutting labels. ' What are you doing, my boy?' said he. 'I didn't tell you to work all night.' 'I know you didn't, sir. But I thought I might as well be doing something.' The next day the cashier was told to ' double that boy's wages, for he is prompt and industrious'. Not majiy weeks after this a show of wild beasts 170 V^er. 1. 1 KINGS XVII Ver. 1. was passing through the streets, and naturally enough all the hands in the store rushed out to see them. A thief saw his opportunity, and entered by the baci< door to steal something. But this prompt boy had stayed behind. He seized the thief, and after a short struggle captured him. Not only was a robbery pre- vented, but valuable articles stolen from other stores were recovered. ' Why did you stay behind,' asked the merchant of this boy, ' when all the others went out to see the show ? ' ' Because, sir, you told me never to leave the store when the others were absent ; so I thought I'd stay.' Orders were given once more : ' Double that boy's wages, for he is not only prompt and in- dustrious, but faithful '. That boy is now getting a salary of twenty-five hundred dollars a year, and be- fore long he will become a member of the firm. He was following Elijah's model of promptness, and it helped to make his fortune. Elijah was a model of promptness. Let us try to imitate his example in this respect, and we shall find it very useful. II. Elijah was a Model of ' Patience ' as well as of Promptness. — When God wanted Elijah to work, he was, as we have seen, prompt to do whatever he was bidden to do. And when he was told to wait for the further manifestation of God's will he waited patiently. When the long three years' drought came on the land, God told him to go and hide him- self ' by the brook Cherith,' near Jordan. He went and remained there in patience till he was ordered to leave. I have often seen pictures of Elijah at the brook Cherith. These pictures represent the prophet as sitting under the shadow of a tree, with a pleasant brook flowing by, and a beautiful landscape all around. And I used to think that it was in some such lovely place that Elijah spent his long days of patient waiting. But the men who drew those pictures had never seen the brook Cherith, and knew not what it was like. When I was in the Holy Land I learned better. In going down from Jerusalem to Jericho and the Jordan we passed by the brook Cherith. On reaching the spot I guided my horse gently along to the edge of a fearful pi'ecipice and looked down. There was a dark valley or chasm hundreds of feet deep. The side of the valley near where I stood went down almost perpendicularly. From the other side of the valley a steep, rocky mountain rose up like a wall of stone. At the bottom of this valley I could see a little brook winding its way through. That was the brook Cherith. How gloomy and dark it looked ! And all around was lonely, and wild, and desolate ! It gave me a chill to look at it then ; and it gives me a chill now to think about it. And that lonely and dreary-looking valley was the place where God told Elijah to go and hide himself from Ahab. There he went, and there he stayed for eighteen nioutlis or two years. And during all those long and lonely days and months he saw no one, and had no one to speak to. The ravens brought him bread and flesh in the morning and bread and flesh in the evening, and he diank of the brook. God told him to go there, and he went. God told him to stay there, and he stayed. He never worried nor murmured ; but waited patiently till God's time should come for him to change his place. How well Elijah had learned the lesson of patience ! And in the work of reformation which we have to do in our own hearts and lives, one of the most important things for us is to learn well this lesson of patience. III. Elijah was a Model of ' Confidence ' ; and we should try to follow his example in this respect. When Martin Luther the great reformer was on his way to the city of Worms, where the Emperor Charles V. had summoned a great council to try him, some of his friends tried to persuade him not to go there. They were afraid if he ventm-ed to go he would be thrown into prison, and put to death. But Luther's confidence in God was so great that he never had a moment's fear. He said to those who were trying to keep him back : ' If there were as many devils in Worms as there are tiles on the roofs of its houses, I would still go there '. What noble confi- dence that was ! A child's life saved by trust in Ood. — A maid- ■ervant in India who was a heathen was received into a Christian family to have the chai-ge of the children. She attended prayers in this family, and so learned to know something about the God whom Christians worshipped. She used to take the children out, and was well acquainted with all the places in that neighbourhood. She was gentle and kind to the children, and the family liked her very much. One day when she was out with the children they went farther in their walk than usual, and being tired they all sat down on the grass to rest. One of the little ones strayed away, and not returning at once the nurse said she would go and look after her, and told the other children to stay where they were till she returned. She ran off, calling the child by name as she went. Presently she heard the child's voice answering her call. Very soon they met, but judge of her surprise when she saw a great fierce-looking tiger coming up towards the child. She ran at once and bravely took her stand between the child and the tiger. In a moment the thought came into her mind, I must trust my master's God. Then she threw herself on her knees, and in an agony of feeling offered up this short prayer : ' Oh ! my master's God, save my master's child, for Jesus' sake ! Amen '. She rose from her knees, and looking towards the tiger saw that it had turned round and was walking away into the thicket. Here we see what a blessing confidence in God is. IV. Elijah was a Model of 'Courage' — There came a time in Elijah's life when he had to engage in a very trying work — a work in which great courage was needed. He told the king to call all the people of Israel together, and all the prophets of Baal — four 171 Ver. 1. 1 KINGS XVII Ver. 1. hundred and fifty '" number — that they might settle the question whether the Lord was God, or Baal. There was the whole nation of Israel, and all the prophets of Baal on one side, in this matter, and I-'lijah alone on the other — and yet without a moment's fear he went bravely on to do what God had toki him to do. He engaged alone in thatstruggle — onenian against four hundred and fifty; and yet he was not afraid. Truly he was a model of courage ! And we must have just the same kind of courage if we hope to be successful in the work of reformation we have to carry on in our own hearts and lives. — Rich.\rd Newton, Bible Models, p. 178. WHAT WAS ELIJAH LIKE WHEN HE WAS YOUNG ? ' Elijah the Tishbite, v^ho was of the inhabitants of Gilead.' — I Kings xvii. i. I Kxow children like to hear stories about brave men. Some of these are not true stories, and not meant to be true ones. They are often merely made-up tales about people who never really existed. But in 'the Great Elijah ' we have a true character and a real hero in the best sense of the word. I cannot help thinking, also, that rugged and stern as his character was, he is a choice favourite with the young. I do not know any subjects to which young eyes have greater pleasure in turning than Bible pictures of the Prophet fed by ravens at the brook Cherith, or going up to heaven in a fiery chariot. A noble and striking figure his must have been, with his lithe limbs and sinewy arms ; his dark eyes and bushy shaggy locks (for he is in one place called by the strange name, 'the Lord of hair'), and, what he .seems always to have carried with him wherever he went, the rough sheep-skin cloak thrown over his shoulders. A very natural question for you, my young friends, to ask is. Can you tell us what sort of an infancy and boyhood and youth was his? What like was he in his early years ? The Bible informs us nothing positively about this. It tell us nothing about his Jbirth-place ; nor about his father or his mother. He seems to have been born somewhere on the other side of the Jordan, among the rocks and glens of Gilead — what may be called the Highlands of Palestine. But although we cannot, as in the case of one very like him — I mean John the Baptist — gather in thought around his cradle ; we may, at all events, fancy him when a child seated on his mother's knee, — listening from her lips to some of the Songs of Zion and hearing about the Great God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob — his father's God and his own. More than that it has been well said, ' The child is the father of the man' : and I think from his after history and character I could almost tell what sort of a boyhood his must have been. I do not know if there were schools in Gilead. If there were I can imagine him as the leader in all 1 manly sport, the acknowledged little king among his village playmates. No one able to match him in strength of arm and fleetness of foot : fearless in en- countering great dangers. He could breast the swellings of Jordan or climb its rocks and precipices. And when his companions would be scared and run frightened away, he would bravely face some of the wild animals that prowled in the Jordan Valley or roamed the forests of Bashan near his home. And yet, with that curious mingling of opposites which is often seen in the same character, I believe that in some things and at .some times, he would be the very reverse of bold, in these his younger days. I can fancy, when anything crossed him, that he would go fretting all the day long. Perhaps he would rush away to some hiding-place, like a tmant boy — as he did at a future time, a truant man — weep childish tears, and become misei'able and faint- hearted on account of mere trifles which he would be ashamed afterwards to think had so much vexed and annoyed him. I dare say you remember that occasion to which I refer, when he was in the cave at Mount Horeb whither he had fled in great fear from Queen Jezebel ? (1 Kings XIX. 3, 4). God met him and said to him, ' Elijah ! what doest thou here ? What is all this sulkiness and ill-humour and moping about ? Get you hence from your rocky cavern and be youi'self again, and return to your duties I ' Likely his earthly lather (whose name, however, as I have already said, is not given) would sometimes have to speak to him in the same way, and rebuke him for being hasty, petted, and passionate ; easily cast down and quick at taking offence. Now this is not a nice, I would rather say it is a bad character. It is a miserable thing to have a fretful, sulky, whining nature. Still, while I say so, I shall tell you what is a noble thing. It is noble to rise above such a nature. This I believe was the case with Elijah ; for we only read of his peevishness once getting the better of him in after life. It was in that unworthy flight to the Sinai desert of which I have just spoken. But he would seem as if in his earlier years he had said to himself — ' I am strong in limb, and strong in mind, and strong in will. I feel as if I could do a great deal that is either bad or good. I shall strive, with the Divine help, against all the bad passions of my heart, and seek only after what is true and virtuous and right.' He prayed to God to make him good ; and God heard his prayer. Listen to what St. James says about him : ' Elias was a man subject to like pa.s.sions as we are, and he prayed earnestly ' (James V. 17). This is a lesson for you. Do as Elijah did. If any of you have peevish tempers, don't say, ' I have this nasty failing naturally ; I cannot help it. There is no use of me striving against it I ' Yes, there is. If Elijah had thus given up the struggle, the world would never have known of him, except, perhaps, as some wild, fierce, revengeful man 72 Ver. 4. 1 KINGS XIX Ver. 4. — unhappy himself, and making everybody unhappy around him. Bat go and pray— pray 'earnestly,' and God will give von grace to rise above your evil hearts and unamiable and unloving ways. Elijah, I need not remind you, never saw the Lord Jesus Christ. He only saw 'His day afar off and wa.s glad '. Yet it is interesting to know, from Gospel story, that that Divine Saviour is no stranger at all events to him now. The beautiful glimpse we get of the great Pro])het on the Alount of Transfiguration, informs us what the subject is which he, in common with the whole company of the glorified, delight most to think about and to talk about : It is ' the decease which Christ accomplished at Jerusalem ' (Luke IX. 31). Full of great deeds and good works as the Tishbite's life was, he tells us that it is to none of these he trusts for salvation. He owes all to Jesus ; and as a debtor to grace and redeeming love he casts his crown at Jesus' feet. Elijah, you know, died without tasting of death. When you come to a similar hour you will not be able to leave the world, as he did, without meeting the last enemy. But you will be bold and brave in that hour too, if like him you do your duty and your work, whatever it is, faithfully as in the sight of God; seeking to follow what is right, and hating, with all your heart, what is wrong. Aye, and even should you be called to die when you are yet young ; if you have thus served God and tried to please Him — your parents, as they stand round your death-bed and close your eyes, would dry their tears and say : ' Bright angels have come down in chariots of fire, and have taken our loved one to heaven'. — J. R. Macdutf, Hosannas of the Children, p. 149. BETTER OR WORSE? I Kings xix. 4. Elias thought and said he was not better than his fathers. No one else who thoroughly knew him thought so. As a prophet, as a bold advocate of religion, as a fearless and uncompromising enemy of idolatry and national corruption, he was a great im- provement upon his predecessors — the young men of a former age. The fact that he himself did not see it only serves to further demonstrate the truth that it was so. The goodness which knows its own dimen- sions, and publishes them, is not goodness but goodi- ness, a quality of wliich the world has always been too full. But the goodness which is modest and re- tiring is always too scarce. Wherever you find this goodness it is a proof that the kingdom of heaven is not far off; that the example of the Divine Man of Nazareth has been copied more or less sincerely ; and that the person or persons who are characterised by it are on the ci'est of the onward wave in the evo- lution towards the highest type of the human. To the question — Are our voung people growing better or worse ? we answer they are better, much better than their predecessors. And one of our chief reasons for believing so is the very modest estimate they form of iheniselves. A similar question to the one we are now discuss- ing has been asked in regard to the world at large, ' Is the world glowing better or worse ? ' A pessim- istic minister the other day answered this latter question in the affirmative, by asserting that the world was going to the devil as fast as its feet could carry it. We do not believe anything of the kind. To assert such a thing is to libel both the goodness and the power of God. The world going to the devil as fast as it can ! No ! With all its sin, it is coming from the devil faster than it ever did before. The pessimistic old croakers who regale this nonsense to their auditors ought to be muzzled until thev learn to talk sense. If they have no better gospel than this to preach let them keep silent. The world is growing better. God is no liar. Truth cannot be defeated. Light must find its way out. The same is true of the young members of the race which make up the world in the sense we speak of it. We believe this fact — I. Because the Number of those who are Guilty of downright clearly defined Wrong-doing is im- measurably less than it ever has been Less, of course, in proportionto the increase of the population. The criminal statistics not only of England but of every, other civilised country show this. Students of sociology have in some cases tried to prove the re- verse. But even taking their own method of proving, that of figures and cold statistics, they have not only failed to prove that humanity is growing worse, but have been compelled to admit that it is decidedly growing better. Since the beginning of the present century a kind of anti-brutality crusade has formed itself acting silently but effectively, with the result that even those who are still brutes, in spite of all, are ' refined brutes '. In the early part of this cen- tury the young men who were sent to our higher schools — our Etons, Harrows, and Rugbys — and into our universities, were so low in their morals, so brutal in their deeds, and so di.sgraeeful in their habits, though they came from the richest homes in the land, that even Lord Byron, who was one of the best of their number, spoke of them as ' the blackguards who always form the majority of our university students '. John Wesley referred to them as ' The youth, or, in other words, the pagans of our age ' ; while Cowpcr lamented that since eight out of every eleven of those under twenty-five were as irreligious as Herod, the future was nothing but a possible hell on earth! Even the pessimists we mentioned just now never go half as far as that in describing even the worst section of the youth of to-day I They would if they could. Let us thank God they cannot. Facts are against them. The brutality of sin as in the last geneiation is fast disappearing. Education is melt- ing it away as the sun melts away the ice lumps on the brow of the hill, or the snow heap in the corner of the glen. II. We Believe our young People are Better be- cause their Ideals are Higher. — A high ideal is the spring of social progress and public enterprise. The 173 Ver. 4. 1 KINGS XIX., XX Ver. 28. heart that beats with no aspiration to something higher is in a hopeless state. The mind with no grand ideal before it can never rise, and is practically dead. Emerson even went so far as to say that the whole history of the human soul is written in its ideals. It is, therefore, a sign pregnant with great hope that the ideals of the youth of to-day are not only higher but also much purer than those of their predecessors. When you remember that the ideals of the young are the ideals which form the character of the age, you will agree that too much importance cannot be attached to this truth. Of course we cannot give more than one or two illustrations of this apparent fact. You will agree that the young people's ideal of a professing Chi-istian is higher than what it used to be. III. Because the best Things of this Age are accomplished by the Young. — There was a time when it was almost a crime to be young. To be young then meant to be rash, inexperienced, raw, and incapable. Now it is almost a crime to be old ! To be old now, alas ! in too many places, means to be without resource, without power, without pluck and go. Of course we know in reality it is not so. But the young peoplp of this generation have so impressed their power and ability upon the age that to be young is almost synonymous with being successful. This is certainly a gain for the young. And the more one examines the steps over which the century has climbed to its pre-eminent position, the clearer he sees that the great majority of them have been shaped and built by young people. The two most prominent sovereigns of the world are young men. The ablest statesmen of the day are young men. The ablest prose writer of the age is a very young man. The ablest poet is quite juvenile. The same is true of the ablest novelist, they are all young people in the very flush of young life. It is needless to multiply examples. Look at the out- standing features of the age, and you will find young people forming a majority among the factors which account for them in every sphere and direction, and the things that matter most about this great fact is that these brilliant feats of the young are not only characterised by dash and pluck, and daring genius, but that the great majority of them show big strides in the real goodness of the motives which underlie them. IV. Their Attitude towards Religion is more Reverent. — The Voltaires and the David Humes of the age of our fathers are gone. The few great sceptics of our day are so reverent that they prefer being present when family prayers are conducted to being absent. The cynical scoffing sceptics are all dead. No young man or young woman of the pres- ent age, having any claim to genius or even great learning, bids for notoriety by airing his scepticism or infidelity. We do not mean to say there are no infidels and sceptics among the young, but there are fewer than there used to be ; and even those who are such are so reverent in their attitude that you scarcely count them on the other side at all. And this is so not only among the learned and talented young people, but among the ordinary ones which we meet and deal with in daily life. There is far more rever- ence in the house of God, in the attitude shown to- wards sacred things, in the language adopted to describe the spiritual life and its claims, than there used to be among young people. And this is the most useful sign of all. When the earnest young souls of to-day tell us, as Elias told himself of old, that they are not better than their fathers, we say, ' Thank God that is a sign in the right direc- tion '. — H. Elwyn Thomas, Pulpit Talks to Young People, p. 17. A QREAT MISTAKE ' The Lord is God of the hills, but He is not God of the valleys.' — I Kings xx. 28. This is not true : it is a great, great mistake, and the man who said it first was the first to find that out. He was a king, and he had gone with a great army to fight against a little handful of God's people ; but they beat him — beat him altogether, and he had to flee for his life. And he put it all down to the fact that the battle had been fought on the hills ! Next time he determined to be wiser, and so he came back again with a great army, and this time he kept away from the hills, and kept down in the valleys, and thought he was keeping out of the way of God ! But he wasn't ; he was defeated again and made to flee, and made to understand that God is a God of the hills, but he is God of the valleys as well. But his mistake is a very common one. A great many people, though they wouldn't say it, get yet into the way of thinking that God is in one place and not in another. They think He is in the Church — and then they are very good ; but they think He isn't in the street or the business— and then they are very bad. And I have known some people who were very good when they were at home — in their own place, where everybody knew them ; but as soon as they went away from home to a great city or to a foreign land, became suddenly very wicked. You see, though they didn't say it, yet the god they had been thinking about was a little parish god ; and as soon as they got out of that parish they fancied they had left him behind them. But they hadn't : God was in the valleys as well as on the hills — in the foreign land as well as at home ; and when they sinned He saw them — He was standing by them — for there is nothing we can hide from Him, go where we will. There is no place — no place — where God is not. Did you ever find a place where a stone did not drop to the ground as soon as you let go your hold of it ? You never did. Why does it drop ? Because God commands it Did you ever find a place where a flame burnt downwards rather than upwards? You never did. Why does it shoot up, rather than down ? Because God commands it. Wherever you go, all the world over, these things are so — and they 174 Ver. 20. 1 KINGS XXI Ver. 20. are so because God is there. It is because He is keeping watch over you that your heart iand. There was a thick wood of oak-trees between Jericho .and Bethel, through which the high ro.id passed, and this wood was the haunt of bears. People wei'e afraid to go that way, and they never went alone, but al- ways in companies. But the Prophet Elisha had no fear of wild beasts, and he often went backwai'ds and forwards, alone, between Jericho and Bethel. He had the fear of the Lord before his eyes, and therefore he knew no other fear. The purity of his own heai't, and the loftiness of his own mission, formed a shield of protection over him. The wild animals recognised his sovereignty. He had the original dominion over the wild beasts, with which God had endowed man at his creation, brought back to him. Jesus in this same wilderness of Jericho, we are told, was with the wild beasts, which crouched at His feet in meekness and submission. One of the grandest pictures in the world, the ' Last Supper of St. Jerome ' in the Gallery of the Vatican Palace at Rome, represents the aged saint with the faithful lion that shared his solitude in the cave of Bethlehem by his side. And the old monkish legends tell us of St. Saba, who founded the grand monastery of Mar Saba in the wilderness of Judea, not far from Jericho, and who lived for years in a cave in the rocks with a lion as his companion, that was perfectly obedient to him in eveiything. These stories, though probably fables, have yet a kernel of truth in them, for they reveal to us in a striking form the power which human goodness has over the animal creation. You remember the poet Spenser's beautiful conception of Una, with her sweet innocence and purity, subduing the fierce lion and making it her slave. If our will is in accordance with the will of God, all things will respect us and minister to us. I. Elisha was shielded by his holiness. He was engaged in the work of the Lord, and therefore he went up fearlessly through the steep defile between Jericho and Bethel, although it was bordered with woods full of wild beasts. You remember how Luther said that he would go up to the Diet of 181 Ver. 24. 2 KINGS II., Ill Vv. 16, 17. Worms though every slate on every house-roof by the way was a devil seeking to prevent him. But while the holiness of Elisha protected him from the wild beasts, it did not protect him from his fellow-creatures. The young men of Bethel were gathered at the en- ti-ance of the town, just where the pathway emerged from the dark shadows of the wood, out of curiosit}' to see the chance passer-by. At Bethel there was a school of the prophets, and a number of young men were being educated there in the fear of the God of Israel. But there was also at Bethel a temple for the calf worship of Egypt, which Jeroboam had intro- duced ; and the young men who watched for the coming of Elisha no doubt belonged to the idolatrous families connected with that strange calf worship. They would therefore hate the servants of the true God, and take pleasure in insulting them, just as Mohammedan youths at the present day often throw stones at, and utter scornful threats against, Christian travellers at Nablous and Hebron. The young men of Bethel had been accustomed to see Elijah coming up to their town from Jericho, and his long hair fall- ing over his shoulders, and his wild appearance, filled them with respect and even awe But Elisha had his hair shorn close round his head, and in comparison with the shaggy Elijah was bald, and he looked so meek and gentle that they were not a bit afraid of him, but with the license of rude Eastern youths they scoffed at him and cried, ' Go up, thou bald head ; go up, thou bald head '. II. For once Elisha assumed the sternness of Elijah, and out of the soft summer cloud came the terrible stroke of lightning. He made an awful example of these scoffing youths, so that the idolatrous town might never forget it. It was a terrible punishment ; but the Bethel young people had behaved like bears, and they were punished in the same way. Their irreverence to the prophet was the outcome of their irreverence towards God. They took their conception of God from the animal rather than fiom the spiritual part of their nature. They woi-shipped a calf in the hallowed shrine of Bethel. And so it came to pass that the animal part of their own nature prevailed over the spuitual. But man is far more and better than a beast As soon, therefore, as he suffers the beast in him to prevail, he not only sinks below the level of mankind, he grows worse than the beasts and sinks below their level. What they do by the law of their nature, he does against the law of his nature ; and sinning against the law he ought to obey, he grows steadily worse and worse. We do not wonder, therefore, that the youthful worshippers of such a mean and foul god as the golden calf of Bethel should be guilty of disrespect to grey hairs, and of sacrilege to the servant of the living and true God. They who made such a god became like their god; and it was appropriate that they should be punished in the line of their offence. As they worshipped a beast, so they were devoured by bea>ts. As they had debased their souls to worship a calf, so their bodies were debased to be eaten up by bears. God fulfilled His threatening, ' I will meet them as a bear that is bereft of her whelps, and will rend the caul of their hearts ; and there will I devour them'. III. The lesson of this tragic story is the sin of iiTeverence. If you have no reverence you lose the image of God in which you were created, and you become a mere part of the creation instead of its lord and master. If you worship, like the people of Bethel, the golden calf of brute power, evil lust, material good ; if you lower your nature to the level of carnal earthly things, then the powers of evil will overcome you at every turn ; you will become a prey to the wild beasts of temptation and passion. But if you have the reverence for God which Jesus had for His Heavenly Father, then you will become like Him, and you will reverence all who are like Him. — Hugh Macmillan, The Spring of the Day, p. 219. ON CUTTINQ DITCHES ' And he said, Thus saith the Lord, Make this valley full of ditches : for thus saith the Lord, Ye shall not see v?ind, neither shall ye see rain ; yet this valley shall be filled with water, that ye may drink, both ye, and your cattle and your beasts.' — 2 Kings hi. i6, 17. If I were to tell you at once, and without explana- tion, that your main business in life is to cut ditches in dry valleys, very likely some of you would laugh, and some would be puzzled, and all of you, I hope, would end by asking me what I meant. I will try and tell you what I should mean, what I do mean. I. Now, mark. This great army, shut up in the dry and thirsty valley, had to dig ditches, to cut trenches, which were to hold a water they could not see, no trace or sign of which they could see. No rain was ftilling on the mountains ; no cold damp wind was blowing, and foretelling, as it blew, the approach of rain. So that they had to dig on at what seemed a useless task ; they had to cut trenches, though there was no water to run into them, and no sign that any water was coming, in pure faith that what the prophet told them would turn out true, and that the water would come if only the trenches were dug. I can well believe that when the prophet said Dig, more than one gruff veteran of the camp said, ' / dig, when I am so weary and like to die of thirst I I am not such a fool. What does Elisha know of the weather ? Can't I, who have seen more of the weather than he has, read the signs as well as he ? There is not a cloud in the sky, nor is there a breath of air to cool the intolerable heat of this stony wilderness. Let others dig if they will ; I will not.' And yet, reasonable as this man's argument and re- solve would seem at the moment, you know that he would have been wholly in the wrong ; and that, after all, it was much more reasonable to believe what the prophet said, with whom was the word of the Lord, and to act on the counsel he gave. But if these soldiers were called to a task which seemed at the time quite useless and unreasonable, aie not you calletl t(j such tasks every day ? And if they had to obey the call because they trusted the 182 Vv. IG, 17. 2 KINGS III., IV Vv. 18-20. words of one who was wiser than they were, are not you every day called to trust in the wisdom and kindness of those who know more of human life than you do, and who are seeking to equip anil prepare you for it ? Why, see, how many things you have to do at home which you do not in the least like to do, simply because your father and mother know it will be best for you to do them. Some of you don't like to get up when you are called ; and hardly any of you, I am afraid, like to go to bed so soon as you are told to go. You often want to eat viands which you are not allowed to eat, or to read books which you are not allowed to read, or to plav when you are com- pelled to work. You are taught not to use words you would like to use, and not to indulge tempers and passions which you would like to indulge. From the very first your parents have to say to you, ' Come,' ' Go,' ' Do this,' or ' Don't do that '. Every day, and all day long, unless you have learned to rule yourselves and to find pleasure in doing your duty, you have to be checked, guided, persuaded, punished even : and all for what ? To you it must often seem unreason- able that you should be told to do this when you don't at all want to do it, and not to do that when that is exactly what you most want to do. You don't see any sense in all this, any more than the Hebrew soldiers saw any sense in being set to dig trenches in a dry valley when thei'e was no sign of rain. But there was sense, and very good sense, in the command which, whether they liked it or not, they had to obey. And, as a rule, there is very good sense in the commands and prohibitions given to yoa What your parents are really aiming at, though you may not see it, is to get you to form habits, good habits, and to train capacities, which by and by, when you are grown men and women, will be of the greatest service to you. They want you to learn to rule and restrain yourselves while you are young, because they know you must be able to rule and restrain youreelves if you are to live usefully and happily, if you are not to be passionate and sinful, miserable and degraded. They want you to be thoughtful, obedient, diligent, well-spoken and well-mannered, gentle and consider- ate for others, because they know that these habits and ways will be most useful to you by and by ; because if you do not acquire them now, you will suffer for it as long as you live. In short, they set you to dig trenches the use of which you cannot see, because by and by these trenches will be filled with a water that will strengthen and refresh you as long- as you walk the earth, and even prepare you to breathe the air and share the blessedness of heaven. II. Again, consider your lite at school. I am always a little sorry for children who have to go to school, and yet do not take kindly to the place, or to anything they learn in it — they are so misei able, and to them it seems so unreasonable that they should be mewed up in close crowded rooms poring over books the very sight of which they hate, when every drop of blood in their budie.-i is calling out for green fields, and rough games, and fresh air. But if anv of you dislike school and learning, you may be sure that you are sent to school only for your good. You don't suppose, do you, that anybody likes to teach children who do not want to learn? or that your parents or your teachers hate you .so much that they all conspire to do what they do not like to do, simply in order to make you miserable? They can have no motive but your welfare. An intelligent and educated man or woman finds knowledge and amusement everywhere : but how are you to be educated and intelligent if you will not learn ? The world is full of living water ; but it runs very quicklv by, and only those who have dug trenches that will hokl it will be much the better for it. Try to remember this ; and when you are next put to any school task which you do not like and the use of which you do not see, say within yourselves : ' Never mind ; my book is my spade ; and I've got to dig a trench with it : some day, when I am thirsty, I may find it full of bright sparkling water '. We are preparing channels through which one day the Spirit of God may flow into your hearts, and quicken you into life everlasting. To some of you our work may seem only like digging for digging's sake ; and you are content to dig only because we are kind to you, and you like to be with us and with one another. You see no cloud in the sky ; you hear no sound of wind ; you do not see where any water is to come from : nevertheless, the water does come, as some of you can testify. For in the holy words spoken by Christ and His Apostles, besides and be- neath the letter which you can all learn, there is the spirit which giveth life ; and by learning the letter you prepare the way for the coming of the spirit. Think : if any wholly untaught man, who had never heard anything about our Father or our Redeemer, were to read a few verses from the New Testament, or to hear a sermon, he could make nothing of it ; sermon and verses would say nothing to him : he would not so much as know what the words meant. But to you, simply because you have been taught in some measure what the words of the Bible mean, a few verses, or a sermon on them, may some day say so much that you will be constrained to give your heart to God. You ai'e, therefore, cutting trenches every Sunday ; and, when that day comes, these trenches will be filled with the water from heaven, of which if any man drink he shall never thirst more. — Samuel Cox, The Bird's Nest, p. 47. DEATH ON A MOTHER'S KNEES ' And when the child was grown, it fell on a day, that he went out to his father to the reapers. ' And he said unto his father, My head, my head I And he said to a lad, Carry him to his mother. ' And when he had taken him, and brought him to his mother, he sat on her knees till noon, and then died.' — 2 Kings iv. 18-20. There are four remarks which I think this passage proves : — 183 Vv. 18-20. 2 KINGS IV Vv. 18-20. 1. Children may die. 2. Cliildien may die suddenly. 3. Children may die though their dearest friends are beside them. 4. Children may die though their friends are good, and pray for them. I. Tlie first remark is, That Children may Die. — I mean, of course, that they may die while yet children. Does this need to be proved ? Here is an instance. This child is said to be grown, but he could not be very big, for a lad canied him to his mother. Per- haps he was about six or seven years of age. The lessons prefixed give you other instances. And such are occurring every day in the world around us. In- deed, a great proportion of the deaths that happen every year are the deaths of children. In the city where I lived lately I used to see every now and then a poor man passing to the graveyard, with a little coffin under his arm. Rich people bury their babes also. It is very touching to go into a place of burial, and see little mounds of earth all around, which tell that death has been gathering children into His dark house. You recollect the poet's tender lines : — There is a reaper whose name is Death, And with his sickle keen He reaps the bearded grain, at a breath. And the flowers that grow hetioeen. But what is it to die ? Death has two parts — a part you see, a part you do not see. What you see is very sad and solemn. Perhaps you never saw anyone actu- ally dying, but you have probably seen a dead body. How cold it is ! how pale ! how still ! It neither hears nor speaks, nor feels, nor moves. And, alas ! it must be buried out of sight, or you soon could not bear to look at it. And, therefore, after death comes the funeral, when the body is put into the ground and covered over with earth, to lie there, by and by to crumble into dust, and not be seen till Christ shall come back to the world and bid it live. That is one conseijuence of death. There is another. We have souls as well as bodies. Now, the soul does not go into the grave. It goes to God who gave it. I do not know the road it takes. I do not know whether angels, that take good little children to glory, carry them awav up through the clouds and past the stars. I do not know how spirits travel at all. But souls at death go to God. That is a very solemn thought. Yet why should it be a thing to be afraid ot ? Why should a soul be afraid to go back to Him who made it? Ah 1 the reason is sin. We have displeased God, and are afraid to meet Him. I have known a child that had done a wrong thing keep away all day from home, for fear of meeting his father's face ; and when night came, and he felt he must go in, I have seen him creep back miserable and trembling, when he should have been rejoicing to hear his parent's voice again. Even so, sin makes us afraid of God ; and death, which takes us to meet Him, can only be conquered by getting sin forgiven. That it is wh'ch makes Jesus' death so precious. And since little children may die, they ought to seek Jesus early. II. The second remark was, That Children may Die Suddenly.- — The little boy mentioned in the text was quite well in the morning, and at twelve o'clock he was dead. The disease he died of was probably a sunstroke, which is not likely to happen in this country. Bat there are other diseases which end in death almost as quickly. There is a fire-stroke, which sometimes in this country consumes in a moment. I have read somewhere the story of a wicked little boy, much given to profane language, who took refuge under a tree during a thunderstorm, and while in the act of swearing at what the Bible cal Is ' the voice of God,' was stricken to the ground by a flash of lightning. Ah, what a death ! But children have died as suddenly, who have gone up as in a chariot of fire to heaven. ' Sudden death, sudden glory,' the old folks were won't to say. I think the little babes that died by Herod's cruel sword went to glory. And I remember one, not so young as they, whose death gave occasion to some lines that described it — a fair flower very suddenly blighted here, but flourishing still, we be- lieve, in the paradise of God : — One dawn had seen her prattling and fair, Smiling, and blooming, and strong ; Blythe as the lark when he mounts in air, And carols his morning song. Another sun rose ; and sick she lay. And panting hard for breath. A third, she was resting, a clod of clay In the icy embrace of death. III. But let us pass to the third remark — namely. That Children may Die, although their Dearest Friends are Beside Them The child of the text was on his mother's knees when he died. I have no doubt she did all for him that a fond mother could do. She would hold his aching head and ask him if he felt it getting bttter; she would kiss him fondly and lay him on her bosom, but for all that he died. Death broke through the fence of her love and took him from her arms. Oh, it is very affecting to think how powerless we are to keep our dearest with us when the hour comes for calling them away ! It is very natural for young people when ill to wish to be near their parents, or brothers and sisters, and these can do much for the sick ; but when death comes he is stronger than them all. A scene rises before my memory just now. A little boy is lying on a bed ; his father and his mother are sitting beside him in sad silence ; each has hold of a little hand — a little flaccid, cold hand ; they know that death has set his seal on their darling ; even their loving grasp cannot keep those hands warm ; yet a little while and their child is gone from them. There is another thing to be noticed in the case of 'the Shunammite and her little boy. She was very rich and great, and yet her child died. Riches, no doubt, can help parents to ward off disease from their children and get the best skill of physicians when they are sick, but oftentimes all is in vain. Death gets into palaces as well as cottages. God has been kind to Queen Victoria, and has not allowed 184 V^v. 18-20. 2 KINGS IV., V death to take any of her children, and no doubt her good management and care and tlie right habits she teaches them have been the means ; but the best care cannot always prevent death from coming into the nursery. The king of terrors, as he is sometimes called, is the strongest of all kings except one^ the King of kings and Lord of lords. IV. There remains one other remark to be con- sidered— Children may Die, although their Friends are Good, and Pray for Them to Live The mother mentioned in the text loved God. Her conduct afterwards, as well as before, showed this. I have no doubt, therefore, that in her child's illness she prayed earnestly for him. Now, was it wrong in God not to grant her prayer? Or is it wrong in God to refuse hearing parents' prayers now for the lives of their children ? Suppose that a kind friend were to put something into your hands and say, I give you this to please yourselves with but you must give it back to me whenever I ask it ; would you have any right to be angry with him when he asked it back, or for refusing vour entreaties to be allowed to keep it ? Would you speak wisely or foolishly if you com- plained of him for taking it away ? Now, God gives children to parents in loan, just till he is pleased to ask them back. And then he often takes them away in kindness, to keep parents from hurting themselves with idols, or hurting their children by making them idols. Suppose you saw an infant playing with a sharp knife, attracted by its glitter and knowing nothing of its edge, would you stop your endeavour to take away the dangerous weapon because the child struggled against you and cried ? And will God, a wise Father, let His children destroy themselves, or forbear to save them from hurt by even bereaving them ? We have thus looked at the four remai'ks proved by the test. You are saying, perhaps, What a gloomy sermon — all about death I Yes ; but there are two things to be .said to defend such a sermon : First, never thinking about death does not prevent his coming. Thoughtlessness does not keep him away' or make him travel slow. He comes on to us all the same. And secondly, the way to make death cease to be gloomy is to think much about it in the right connection. What is that ? In connection with the death of Christ. It would be cruel to tor- ture people by speaking about death if we could not tell them about Jesus. If Jesus be with y'ou He will make death safe and happy, even though it come in childhood. And Jesus is willing to i)e with you. Go, then, and ask Him to keep you, living and dying. You go to Him, you know, by believing what is said about Him in the Bible and by asking Him in prayer. He will hear you, and then death will cease to be frightful. You are not afraid to lie down and go to sleep. And death to the friends of Jesus is falling asleep. Stephen is said to have fallen asleep even when they were murdering him. So in First Thessalonians, fourth chapter, the dead saints are said ' to sleep in Jesus '. A little boy who died young, whose father lived near a graveyard, used to look out pleasantly at the burying-ground, and, noticing the flat stones that paved it in great numbers, say softly and sweetly, ' In my Father's house are many mansions '. The boy whose death the text records was raised to life again. God sent his spirit back at Elisha's prayer and the prophet gave him alive to his mother. But children that fall asleep in Jesus will get a better resurrection. The Shunam mite's son came back to earth — to care and sin and trial and death repeated. Good children will rise at the last day to enter heaven, never to sin again, never to be sick again, never to die more. After the night comes morning — the morning of a day without cloud or end. — JoHx Edimond, The Children's Church, p. 25. GOD'S THOUGHTS ABOUT LITTLE PEOPLE 2 Kings v. I. The story of Naaman the Syrian is one of many stories in the Bible which show us the thoughts of (iod about little people. Perhaps everybody in Syria, certainly everybody in Naaman's house, thought Naaman's wife, or Naaman himself, the greatest person of the house. But in the sight of God the greatest person was the little captive out of the land of Israel, the little maid who waited on Naaman's wife. God needed some one to remember Him in Syria and to speak for Him in Naaman's house. Naaman could not do it. He did not know God. He knew the King of Syria and the king's captains, and the fighting men ; and he knew all about swords and shields, and bows and arrows, and battles. But he knew nothing about God. No more did the great lady who was his wife. He and she were mighty people in the land, but they were poor heathens all the same, and did not know God. But the little maid who served in their house knew Him. She knew more than the mighty man her master did, more than the lady she waited on did. She knew God. She was only a little girl, a mere servant, and a slave besides — one of the poorest, saddest, kinds of servants — but it was she and not any of the great people — she and no one el.se in all that Syrian land — whom God chose to remember Him. Of this poor, humble slave girl He said : ' This child shall be My greatest here. She shall speak for Me in this heathen land, and tell of My power and My love.' II. The next thing this story shows is, that it was not because this poor girl was little, or because she waited on Naaman's wife, or because she had been brought away captive out of the land of Israel, that God chose her to be His greatest servant in Syria and to speak for Him in Naaman's house. It was because she only in all that land knew God and was able to tell of His power and His love. God does not choose people for His great places because of outside things, but only and always because there is knowledge of Him and love to Him in the heart. Big bulk or little bulk, riches or poverty, palace or 185 2 KINGS V hovel, God passes these things aiid things like these by. He searches for knowledge of Himself, for love to Himself, and where He finds these, in high or low, in bond or free, He makes His choice. If he finds these in a hovel, and in the poorest form on earth, or in a child, even if that child should be a slave, and one who is counted nobody in the house she serves. He will not pass by. His choice will rest there. He will lift up that little child, that slave who is nobody in the house, and give her a place beside Himself, and say to her, ' Thou shalt speak here for Me '. It was because this little captive out of the land of Israel knew God, and alone in all Syria knew Him, and because she loved Him and was good ; for this reason, and for no other, God chose her to be a speaker for him. III. The third thing this story helps us to undei-- stand is, that if the little captive out of the land of Israel knew God better and loved Him better than anybody in Syria, it was because she had been taught to do that before. Knowledge of God does not grow up in the heart, any more than knowledge of stars or trees or books. Just like other lessons, it has to be learned and got by heart. And once on a time, on her mother's knee, or at school, in happier days, this little captive had had to learn this lesson. And not once but many times she had to leani it, and to set her whole heart on learning it. And not once but many times she had to answer when her mother or her teacher trietl her to see if she had learned aright. And being in those days a mere child, I dare say sometimes, when she heard her companions shouting outside at their play, her eyes would fill with tears and she would say to herself : ' It is so tiresome to be learning lessons '. But now her life is all changed. She looks back to those days as the happy days of her life. Now also she sees the good, which then she did not see. And now, with tears of a different kind in her eyes, she thinks thank- fully of the dear father and mother who kept her at her lessons and taught her concerning God. And although this thought never came into her mind, although she never dreamed when she was telling her mistress of Samaria and the prophet thex'e that she was doing anything great or good, it was because in the happy years of her life she had been taught to know God and love Him, that God in her sad years put this crown on her life and made her a speaker for Him. IV. By this story we may learn next some of the reasons which God has for sending trouble to children. Unless this little maid had suffered she could not have been j ust where God wanted her to be when she was needed to speak for Him. She suffered things the very hardest to bear which a child can suffer. Only a few yeai's back — perhaps only a few months back — she was a happy little girl in one of the homes in Israel. The land of Syria, where she now was, joins on to the land where she was bom. As she went out with her mistress along the Syrian roads she could see the hills of her native land. Yes ! on those very hills, blue in the distance, lie the ruins of her once happy home. As she casts her eyes that way the vision of the cottage on the hill-side comes back into her heart, and the faces and forms of the dear ones who loved her there. Father, mother, sisters, brothers, she sees them all again, she hears their voices, she joins with them in the morning and evening psalm. And then that vision passes and another comes into its place, and it is night and there is a sudden tumult on the hill. A storm of wild shouting rouses them all out of sleep. The door is burst open. Fierce soldiers burst in. She sees the blood on her father's face from his death-wound. She sees her mother tied with ropes and led away to be sold ; and all the children led out, and all separ- ated ; and she is an orphan and a slave ; and life has changed for her and for them for evermore. If, when all that horror fell into her young life, she thought of God and of the Divine love her father and mother trusted in, it must have seemed a great darkness to her. Could God love them and suffer such misery to fall upon them ? And what could God's thoughts concerning herself be when He suffered her to be carried away captive out of the land of Israel ? If such thoughts came into her mind at the time of her suffering, the explanation of them comes now. Now she learned why she had to pass through so much. By the steps of sorrow and bereavement she was led to Naaman's house, and to the daily spectacle of his leprosy, and into the confidence of the lady she served, and to a moment when she pitied her master with the pity of God that was in her heart, and to another moment when she told of the piophet who could heal her master, and last of all, to the happy day when she saw him returning from that prophet, after his flesh had come to him again ' like unto the flesh of a little child '. And more than all that, although she herself could never know this, through the tribulations she suffered she passed up to a place among God's throned ones — among the saintly women and holy men who spake and acted for Him in the days of old. And although we do not know her name, God knows it, and the holy angels know it, and one day we too shall know it. V. Now, although I have tried to mix up the lessons with the story itself, there are three which I should like to put a special mark on, because they are lessons which it is good for children to get by heart. The first is, that you should not despise servants. Perhaps God has sent one of His angels, or helpers, in the form of a servant into your home as He sent the little maid from Israel into Naaman's. The next is, that you should not weary over the lessons you have to learn at school. You never can know till long after — and this little maid from Israel did not know till long after — the good which lessons — especially lessons about God — will bring to those who have learned them well. 186 V'er. 4. 2 KINGS v., VI Ver. 17. And the last is, that you should not look upon sick- ness and bereavement as altogether evil. There is good in the heart of the evil. Often they are mes- senger sent from God to draw you nearer to His heai't. It is a trial very hard to bear when God takes father or mother away. And the home is very dark when He takes both. But for children to whom this trial is sent, as for the child who had been carried away captive out of the land of Israel, God's purpose is love. By the very things they suffer they may be prepared, as this little captive was, to be helpers of others who suffer, and in the end to bring them, as she brought Naaman, to God. — A. Macleod, The Gentle Heart, p. 131. THE LITTLE CAPTIVE MAID • Thus and thus said the maid that is of the land of Israel.' — 2 Kings v. 4. Although this little maid has been dead so many years she is still teaching us one or two lessons. Let us .see if we can find out what they are. I. The first is this. To do our duty in whatever state of life we may be placed — wherever for the time being God calls us. To do our duty thoroughly and do it cheerfully. Many people in her place would have said, ' No, I shan't do this work unless I am forced to do it. I've been taken away from my country and my friends, I'm looked down upon by all the rest of the people in the house, you can't ex- pect me to do a slave's work, and I won't do it, or if they make me work I shall do just as little as I can ; I certainly won't try to do it well ; and I shan't do it cheerfully.' You may ask, 'How do you know that?' The Bible doesn't tell us she did her work as you say, ' cheerfully and well '. Yes, it is true it doesn't say so, but I am sure she did. How do I know ? Be- cause her mistress trusted her and listened to what she had to say about Klisha, this great prophet. If she had been an idle, sulky, sullen girl, we may be quite certain her mistress would have thought, ' "This girl is only trying to deceive us, giving us a little hope now, so that we may have more sorrow after- wards ; I don't believe what she says '. Or she might have thought, ' If I let my husband go, this man she speaks of may cause his death, that is what she is thinking of. She is not to be trusted.' But once more, you ask me how I know she did what she was told ? why, because she did even more than that. She did what she could to try and get this man her master cured, the very man who had torn her away from her parents and her friends. And so you see she teaches us all to do our duty whatever it may be and wherever it is put before us. II. The second lesson is, ITo return good for evil. Naaman had made her a slave, an unhappy girl ; she wanted to make him a happy man by being cured of his dreadful disease. We often hear boys and girls, yes, and grown-up people, say when some one has in- jured them, ' Ah! vou wait, I'll pay you back when I get the chance '. Now this little gul paid her master back, but it was in kindness ; she returned good for evil. Some people would have said to themselves if they had been in her place, ' I am very glad that Naaman is suff'ering, it serves him right ; he has treated me very badly, he's taken me away from my country, made me a slave, and caused me a great deal of sor- row. I know who could cure him, but I'm not going to say.' But how did she act? She felt sorry for her master and her mistress, too, and went to her with the story which spoke to both of them of hope. ' If my master were only in Samaria, if only he would go to Elisha, then he would come back quite cured — you would feel so happy and I should feel happy too.' So let us learn this second lesson from the captive girl — to return good for evil : pay back the wrong people do us in kindness, then we shall be like Jesus Christ. The little maid lived a long time before He was born, yet God had taught her what Christ taught the people — that we are to love our enemies and do good to those who treat us badly. You know how He taught us to pray, ' Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us,' and how He prayed on the cross for His enemies when He was dying, and said, ' Father, forgive them, they know not what they do '. — 11. G. Soans, Sermons for the Young, p. 14!. A PICTURE OF FAITH {A Suvimer Sermon) ' Lord, I pray Thee, open his eyes, that he may see.' — 2 Kings VI. 17. Eltsha took the young man and made him look at only one prospect — the country around Dothan. I wish to make you look at three wide prospects — Nature, Providence, the Bible. And as you look at each, we will put up the prayer, ' Lord, open our eyes '. I. Eyes Opened on Nature. — I hope you take good long strolls into the country or along the shore on Saturdays j ust now. This leafy month of June is one of the most beautiful in the whole circle of the year. It is delightful to walk away out of the town for an hour or two, through the fresh grass and beside the bright hedges, and see the white and pink blossom of the hawthorn, the flaming clusters of the rhodo- dendrons, and the drooping yellow bunches of the laburnum ; to enjoy the rich scent of the lilac ; to see the golden flowers of the honeysuckle, and the silver spires of the hoi-se-chestnuts ; to sit and look up at the sun-rays flashing like spears through the heavy foliage of the trees, and down at the shadows moving in a thousand changing forms over the undergrowth of ferns and wild flowers; while the birds are revelling around and above, and every breath of wind is laden with fragrance from some flowering tree or bush, or bank of wild flowers. Now, I hope, when you are in scenes like these, you will cultivate the habit of appreci.iting the beauty 187 Ver. 17. 2 KINGS VI V^er. 17. of them. Otherwise you will miss one of the purest pleasures on earth. There are some people specially distinguished for seeing the beauty which God has put upon His works. These are poets and painters. On the other hand, there are people who live in the midst of the most lovely .scenes of Nature, and yet have no eye to see their charms. A painter may be looking on a landscape which, under some unusual effects of light, almost overcomes him with emotion, while another man in the same field looks on it with- out a trace of feeling. I should like your eyes to be opened to see beauty. But this is not what I speak of when I say ' Lord, open their eyes upon Nature'. There is something else which our eyes require to be opened to see. It is God Himself — God with His love and wisdom and power. One man looks abroad over a piece of God's world and sees neither its beauty nor its Maker in it. A second looks over the same scene and sees the beauty which the first did not see, but yet does not see the Maker. But a third looks ; and he is like Elisha's sei-vant: his eyes are opened, and he sees what the first sees, and what the second sees, but also something else which neither of them has seen — he sees God passing His hand over all and dropping beauty on it ft'om His fingers. Oh, surely men are blind who can look into the great deeps of the heavens crowded with stars, on the vast and restless ocean, on the rugged grandeur of the mountains, on the valleys and plains in their summer luxuriance, and see no glimpse of the face of God and hear no rustle of His garment as He sweeps past in His beneficent omnipo- tence ! Blinder fai- are they than the most horn-eyed rustic who lives in the grandest scenery without ever being visited by an idea of its beautv . If you awaken to a sense of the beauty of the world, it will make you feel as if you had never lived before. But if your eyes be opened to see God in the world, to see Him in all His works, and constantly think of Him working with His almighty love behind all that you see, it will make the world a new world to you altogether. That sky will be skv no more, this earth will be earth no more; the simplest flower, the very drop of dew, the sparrow that flits from house to house in the street, will have voices speaking con- stantly to your mind of a far-off Fatherland, and of a Father who is your Father and the life of them all. II. Eyes Opened on Providence.^ — When you look back on your life as far as you can remember, it is but a very short way you see, for vou came into the world only a few years ago. And if you look in front of you, you cannot see anything at all. You may guess some things which you are going to meet, but you do not know how soon your journey may end, or what you will really meet if you travel on. But with old people it is different. They are like you in this, that they cannot see what is before them. But they can see a long way behind them. They are like a man who, after mounting to the top of a hill, turns round and surveys the road he has come. There it is, all down the mountain-side and away across the valley to the very spot he started from. An old man can see back that long road. Yonder is the time when he was a child ; then another part of the road when he was a boy ; then the hill begins to get steep, when he was a young man ; farther up is the long and difficult pai't, when he was a man fuU- gi'own ; and, lastly, the steep place he had to climb on hands and knees, when he was already an old man. It is a strange and varied road — some of it smooth and flowery, like your life now ; some of it rough and thorny, when he had to contend with poverty and misfortune, when sickness and bereavement came on him and his family. Now, suppose two old men looking back on this road together. Let me tell you what they see. One sees nothing but the bare road ; times of prosperity which came to him by happy chance, successes which he gained by his own efforts ; sicknesses and deaths, which appear to him mere calamities or chances such as all must face. But the other sees God all along the road ; God guiding him from first to last, crown- ing his efforts at one place with success, disappointing him at another place with an equally kind pui'pose. Yondei- is a place which was dreadfully dark as he came through it, but light from heaven is shining on it now ; he understands it now. Yonder is a place which looked very crooked as he passed, but he sees now that this must have been an illusion of his own mind, for it is quite straight now. This man has had his eyes opened on providence. I pray God to open your eyes on providence, that in all you undertake or suffer you may see God as your guide, and trust him ; so that, whatever fortune you mav be led into, you may never feel yourself alone. This will give you courage and comfort such as nothing else can give. HI. Eyes Opened on the Bible. — Here is still a third prospect I have to call vou to look out upon, while I pray, ' Lord, open their eyes, that they may see '. But surely it is impossible to look over this prospect — over the Bible — without seeing the horses and chariots of fire. Ah no ; it is not. It is possible to read all the chapters of the Bible many times, and learn all its doctrines, and understand all its promises, with the eyes still shut. I remember telling a friend that, in a certain con- gregation I was preaching to I could take it for granted that all the people knew the leading doctrines of the Bible, and appeal to them on the ground of this knowledge. But he said to me, ' Do not take so much for granted : I remember that when young I was taught all the doctrines of Scripture, and I thought I knew them ; but when I was really con- verted, it seemed to me as if I had not known one of them before — they all came home with such a new meaning, I learned them all over again '. It is a moment never to be forgotten when the truth which has been known and handled like a dry piece of wood for yeare suddenly flares forth into 188 Ver. 20. 2 KINGS IX Ver. 20. bright fliune ; when over the meadows of the Bible, where nothing but ordinary grass appeared before, there suddenly start up the horses and cliariots of tire ; when this truth, for instance, ' My soul is in- finitely precious and immortal,' thrills through me, and all the world seems as nothing compared with my sold. Some years ago, during the revival in which Mr. Moody was so much blessed, a young woman, a domestic servant, left Melrose and travelled up alone to London. She had a sister there, on whom she called. ' What has brought you here ? ' She had become anxious to be saved away down in Scotland ; and hearing of the great spiritual movement in Lon- don, imagined that somehow, if she were there, she might get a blessing : she had come to see. She knew nothing of London, but went out to seek the Agricultural Hall, where she heard the meetings were held. On she went, through the streets of the great city, through the rush and roar of the busy thorough- fares. At last she reached the hall ; but she was too late. Thousands of people were streaming out. Still she thought if she were inside some one would tell her what she must do. She went to all the doors, but they were blocked by the crowds passing out. At last she found the door of some committee-room. She heard the voices inside and thought the persons she wanted might be there. She tried to push the door open but could only open it a little way. Then she put her face to the opening and said, ' Let me in ; I'm keen to be saved '. ' Ah, that's the voice of a Scotch lassie,' some one cried inside ; and a strong hand was thrust out and drew her in. It was the hand of aged Robert Moffat, the African missionary. And thev told her what she must do. An ignorant, foolish girl this ! Could not Christ be found as well in Melrose as in London ? But thrice blessed girl too ! for the great truth had been revealed to her in a flame of fire, ' What shall it proKt a man, if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? ' There are many who remember when this truth, ' I am a sinner,' shone on them for the first time in the same way. They had heard it before and be- lieved it in a way ; but they could believe it and at the same time sit still doing nothing. But at last their eyes were opened, and they could sit still no more — they arose and fled. Or that other truth, 'Jesus Christ is the Saviour': many can remember how, after hearing it a thousand times, at last they heard it with tears of joy, as a truth for them ; and the face of the Lord Jesus, no longer dead, but living, breathing, entrancing, looked out on them from the Bible, and they grasped Him, saying, ' Thou art my Sa^dour '. — James Stalker, The New Song, p. 75. JEHU ' The driving is like the driving of Jehu the son of Nimshi ; for he driveth furiously.' — 2 Kings ix. 20. Here was an ignorant watchman who could have had nothing more in common with the great captain of his company than the peasant who trims the hedge- row has of my lord who rolls by in his barouche and pair, and yet he sums him up in a character-making phrase : ' He driveth furiously '. Day after day on his lonely watch he must have watched Jehu scour the arid plain which separates rather than unites the low-lying Jezreel from the uplands of Ramoth. ' And he marked the man and the manner of his going.' He watched his eager passionate face and his desperate audacity. He knew him better than did the serene Joram, who went out to inquire the purport of his coming in the ominous meeting-place, the vineyard of the man despoiled and murdered by his lather — the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite. Now let us, as foreigners, as separate in time and country from the great reformer, the purger of the abomination of the house of Ahab, the stalwart Puri- tan who shook the life out of the priests of Baal and re-established the worship of the true God— let us try to gather something from his character that may serve us for imitation, for warning, for admiration mingled perhaps with contempt. In estimating, then, his actions, I cannot help being struck with the very striking resemblance in some of his attributes to those of our great Protestant warrior and reformer, Oliver Cromwell. Jehu, like Cromwell, was the incarnation of intense vigour in thought and action — a man of force, evidently of some deep religious instinct, but one who supposed that the desire for extermina- tion of the infidel and the immoral was a proof of his own love for God and for purity, while it really sprang partly or wholly from a love of destruction and an ambition to succeed. In the case of Jehu, as in the case of Cromwell, personal ambition was so much mixed up with regard for God, that it is difficult to say where religion ended and love of power began. Jehu was a character who, like Solomon, began well but ended badly. His morning rose, as far as we gather from the Scriptures, with a heaven of blue, but the westering sun of life was dimmed with the clouds of gloom and sin. When, on that day of call, he lay at Ramoth-Gilead, and he heard the voice of the dust-laden man of the desert cry to him, ' I have an errand to thee, O captain I ' and when he received the prophetic oil on his head, the emblem of kingly rule, what a hidden fire awoke in that forceful nature ! An errand I Why, it was an errand from God, clearly — the extermination of a wicked king, the overthrow of a vile idolatry ! There was the occasion, and here was the man. Can we suppose that the message came on him as with a shock of sharp sur- prise ? No occasion ever comes on great men by surprise. The materials for accomplishing what God required of him had been deep laid in his breast for many a day. Many were the little occasions which showed what was in him. There was the fuel, and the spark was supplied to lighten it into flame. I. And to us is it not always an inspiring thought that God calls on us to do some big thing for Him.' When the eyes of expecting men are on us, we, if we are strong, can always rise to the occasion. A public school boy, circumscribed as is his life, has his big occasions, and it is surprising how many of us rise 189 Ver. 20. 2 KINGS IX., XX Ver. n. equal to them. If the prefectural body were asked to destroy some house of Baal, or to stamp on some flagrant form of notorious evil, I doubt not that we should find many Jehus driving furiously to the en- counter. It is in the little details of life, when we have to act alone — not in the sight of men, perhaps — when we have to crush in ourselves or in somebody else the little detail which goes to form a principle — it is then that so many of us fail. In the little act of self-denial ; in the single word of evil which you heard outside your study door, but could not bother to take any notice of; it is then that we are weak when we should be strong, lazy when we should smite. I am wondering, as I think of Jehu, whether he would not have acted like Naaman if he had had to do some simple thing that attracted no notice and was not rewarded by the publicity of universal acclama- tion. If he had been told to do such an insignificant thing as to wash in Jordan, would not he too, if he had not turned away in a rage, at least have said as Hazael did say on another occasion (if, indeed, this be the true meaning of the text), ' Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing ? ' II. I like the force of Jehu. His words are as di-astic as his deeds. When the king's messenger comes to him with the salutation, ' Is it peace ? ' his answer is, ' What hast thou to do with peace ? ' or, as the Hebrew puts it, ' What has peace got to do with you and me ? follow my company '. And then, when the unsuspecting Joram meets him, his answer is equally terse and vigorous : ' No compliments — when you have a Jezebel for a mother '. There was no mistake about an answer like that, and Joram knew the fatal fact only too well when he cried, ' There is treachery, O Ahaziah ! ' And when the arrow of Jehu had sped on its deadly way, and the fallen king lost at once his life and throne, it was as the aveng- ing Spirit of God that Jehu tossed his body into the field which Ahab had bought with Naboth's blood. 'I will requite in this plat, saith the Lord.' This is a truth of the moral law : our sins revisit us in kind ; what we do in youth we rue in manhood — that and nothing else. As grapes do not come of thorns, nor figs of thistles ; as the pomegranate seed does not rise into a sycamore, or an ash blossom into an oak ; so, when we are sensual in youth, we do not become thieves in manhood, but profligates ; if we are selfish in boyhood, we become not vagabonds, but hardened in the afternoon of life. So Ahab's deeds of blood in the vineyard of Jezreel produced in the self-same spot a bloody heritage. There lay Joram wallowing in his blood. But Jehu's zeal for good did not stop here. He made a clean sweep of evil. 'So Jehu slew all that remained of the house of Ahab in Jerusalem, and all his gi-eat men, and his kinsfolk, and his priests, until he left him none remaining.' III. If we could leaTB Jehu here, it would be well. What a grand .sentiment that was which he uttered to Jehonadab, ' Is thine heart right, as my heart is with thy heart ? ... If it be, then give me thine hand. . . . Come with me, and see my zeal for the Lord I ' A man, you will say, that the Lord wanted in that evil time — with strength in his hand and sentiments of righteousness on his tongue. And yet the very man who could do and say such things for God was himself an apostate. It is one thing to make others good, it is another thing to be good one's self. The desire to make others good may be mixed with love of personal power, with a love of completeness in the work we do in the world— an ' ideality ' which has no more morality in it than a love of beautiful pictures, or beautiful scenery, or beautiful poetry, a love of all the beautiful sights and sounds of God's universe. Nay, even worse ; to desire to see other people good may be a sort of selfishness, because in a settled civilisation it is far more annoying and un- comfortable to have evil persons around one than good. There are some professions in life, you know, which have a tendency to force people to make others good, or to have an outward goodness of their own. It is the basis of all professions in a sense. The soldier leams to love obedience, for he has to enforce it ; a lawyer justice, a merchant honesty. But, above all, the clergyman and the teacher acquire a habit of doing good and of being good externally, which is often a monotonous habit, and the natural and necessary out- come of our professional life. These things are not worth much. The preacher especially is often so carried away by his own exhortations as to believe himself for the moment to be the sort of man that he beseeches othei-s to be. St Paul, with his terrific power of analysing character, tears the veil from such subtle self-deceiving, and calls on the man to see himself as with the eyes of God — St Paul, who called himself ' the chief of sinners '. ' Behold, thou that knowest God's will and approvest the things that are more excellent, and art confident that thou thyself art a guide to the blind, an instructor of the foolish, a teacher of babes. . . . Thou therefore which teachest another, teachest thou not thyself? thou that preachest a man should not steal, dost thou steal ? thou that sayest a man should not commit adultery, dost thou commit adultery ? thou that abhon-est idols, dost thou commit sacrilege ? thou that makest thy boast of the law, through breaking of the law dishonourest thou God ? ' I commend the.se questionings to myself and (may I say among others ?) to the prefects here. But Jehu had no St. Paul to guide him ; and so, though he banished Baal, he himself was a castaway. For what saith the Scripture ? ' Howbeit from the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin, Jehu departed not from them ; to wit, the golden calves that were at Bethel, and that were in Dan.' And so, you see, a man may hate God's enemies and restore God's worship and yet not love God. — H. Beanston GiAT, Men of Like Passions, p. 159. THE SUNDIAL ' The dial of AhsLZ.' — 2 Kings xx, ii. I WONDER how many of you children have seen a sun- dial. You have all seen clocks and watches a thou- 190 Ver. 11. 2 KINGS XX Ver. 11. sand times, I know ; but a sundial is something whidi we verv seldom see nowadays ; yet in the good old times it was a very prominent object from which people learnt the time of day. It was not quite so conveni- ent as a watch ; you could not put it in your pocket ; nor could you very well remove it from one place to another ; and when you fixed it you had to be very careful how you did so. Thev tell us that a know- ledge of the highest mathematics was necessary to fix a dial properly. We are told that the finger had to be parallel with the axis of the earth. I am afraid you children won't undei-stand this. All I care to tell you then is, that the finger had to point towards the north, and that, if it failed there, the dial was of little use, because the shadow would not fall aright. There weie many other things to be considered in the fixing of the dial ; but when once properly fixed it told the time pretty accurately. But there were other serious drawbacks. On a dull day the dial was of no use. It required plenty of sun ; enough light to cast a shadow. There- fore it could only show the time in the sunshine. It was no help in the dark, or even in the light of a lantera It is true that even then you could see the marks and numbers on its face, but it could not tell you the time. So that, after all, the sundial was only useful in the place in which it was fixed, and during the bright days. The Chaldeans were very clever and seemed to be the first to invent the dial for the day, while they used to reckon time at night by observing the movements of the stars. Since then men have invented many kinds of timekeepers, so that there is a vast improve- ment upon the old-fashioned dial ; and yet one is very glad to see it now. Sometimes we see one in the old market-place ; at other times on the walls of ancient grammar schools or colleges, where for cen- turies boys and girls have been trained ; and often, too, we may see a dial on an old church tower or on the wall of a churchyard. Sometimes, also, an enter- prising man who has built his own house, and who has wanted to keep his own time, has fixed it on the wall of his house ; but that to-day is more for orna- ment than use. What an anxiety there has been in all ages, on the part of man, to reckon time ! In this respect, as in many others, he is unlike every other creature. Man has generally felt, from the earliest days, that time passed away very rapidly. On many a dial were the Latin words, Tempus fugit (' Time flies '), and there the shadow moving along the dial reminded everybody that time did fly. On many dials — for instance, the one which is to be seen in the Temple, London — we read, 'Shadows we are, and like shadows depart'. Another motto is a Scripture text, 'Yet a little while is the light with you ; walk while ye have the light '. What a sermon that dial preaches to us ! The dial in old days, like the clock to-day, was like a conscience to late-comers. When the boys used to go to school, in those good old times, the dial would look knowingly at them, and if they were late they were sure to know it if the sun shone ; or they might guess it by the gloomy aspect of the dial's face if there was no sunshine. Thus many a dial taught the chil- dren to be always in time at school. Again, dials were often found near the places where men were at work, teaching them to be in time. In the market-place, too, where people were buying and selling, there would be a dial, telling them to be busy, for soon the opportunity would be past. Again, on the church tower theie was generally a dial. I wish there was one on our tower ; at least, something that would rebuke the people who come in late. In those good old days, when folks had no watches and clocks, they managed to come in time. Now, when people have so many watches and clocks, and not two of them agree, we manage to be often late. I shall have to think seriously about having a dial on our tower if some of the older folks do not come in better time — even you children are not always in time. Thus you see that the dial has had its uses in teaching people how to make the best of their time ; how to be prompt in fulfilling their engagements ; never to be behind ; and to remember that, after all, life at best is short and like a fleeting shadow, and, therefore, that it behoves us to work while it is day, for the night cometh when no man can work. But there is another thing about the dial which I must mention. It only takes note of the bright hours. Some dials say, ' I only reckon the sunny hours '. Now, there are some of us who never reckon the sunny hours, but only reckon dark and gloomy ones. If you listened to some people from Monday morning to Saturday night — if indeed you could en- dure such purgatory — they would only talk to you about their trials. They reckon all the thousands of dark hours they have had in their life, but forget all the bright ones. On the other hand, if you listen to other people, they forget their dark hours and only remember the bright ones. I want you children to look at the bright side of life. Thank God for all the good things He has sent you, and especially for giving you such kind parents and teachers, and such loving brothers and sistere. On the other hand, if one looks at it from another standpoint, the dial is somewhat disappointing as a guide. Anyone we have for a guide should prove invariable. There are plenty of people who can teach us admirably as long as there is sunshine, but who have very little to tell us when trouble comes. Their company is all right while we are perfectly happy and everytliing goes well. Then they can tell accurately the time of day. But when we get into some big trouble, we want a little guidance ; we want to know where we are and how time is going, yet they cannot tell us anything, but only look at us gloomily. We want a guide And there is One who will never fail us, but will be our Guide in the dai-kest hour as well as the brightest. He is the Guide whom we all need, and whom I would have you children accept He will never leave you, and never, never forsake you. — 191 2 KINGS XXII David Davies, Talks with Men, Women, and Chil- dren, p. 455. GOOD KING JOSIAH 2 Kings xxii. Can you tell me who was the youngest king that ever ruled over the Jews ? Think. Can't you tell me ? His name was Josiah — King Josiah. Can anybody in this church tell me who was the youngest king that ever ruled in England ? Edward VI. ; he was sometimes called the Josiah of England ! Josiah was eight yeare old when he began to reign ; and Edward VI. was nine years old when he began his reign. Only think of a little boy only eight years old being a king! Charles I. had a very dear little daughter. Did you ever hear about her ? She was a very little girl — only four years old ; and she was very ill in bed, and she was in a great deal of pain. And one day one of her attendants said to the princess, ' You had better say your prayers '. AntJ the little princess said, ' I cannot say my long prayer, but I will say my short prayer '. And her short prayer was this : ' Lord, lighten mine eyes, that I sleep not in death '. I am not quite sure what the little princess meant. Do you think she meant, ' Don't let me go to sleep while I am dying ? ' or do you think she meant, ' May my death be only sleep ? ' It was a very pretty little prayer. ' Lord, lighten mine eyes, that I sleep not in death.' Then she laid her little head upon the pillow, and she went to sleep, never to wake again in this world. And that young princess was the Jifst to welcome her dead father when he went to heaven. So there was King Josiah, and King Edward VI., and this good little daughter of Charles I. I don't think that there was ever a better king than Josiah ; and I am not sure that we ever had a better king in England than King Edward VI. ; so that those who became kings in early life turned out best. Josiah had a bad grandfather and a bad father. His grandfather's name was Manasseh ; his father's name was Amon. Which do you think was the worst man ? I will tell you. Both did very wickedly. But God says Amon 'did not humble himself as his father Manasseh did. Now, we all do wrong ; but the difference between us is, some do not humble themselves to God, though they may humble them- selves to man; and that is what God looks at. Therefore, Amon was more wicked than his father, because ' he humbled not himself before the Lord, as Manasseh, his father, had humbled himself. Be very humble ! ' Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God.' And humble yourselves before men. That is what God looks at — to see whether you ' humble yourselves '. But though Josiah had a bad father he had a very good mother. And the reason why I think he had a good mother is this : God here says what a good boy Josiah was, and also mentions his mother's name (Jedidah). You will find all about Josiah in 2 Kings xxn. and in 2 Chronicles xxxiv., where it says that Josiah ' did that which was right in the sight of the Lord,' ' And his mother's name was Jedidah '. So we put the two together — he was a good child and he had a good mother. ' O my mother ! ' ' O m,y mother ! ' When Napoleon Bonaparte was reigning in France they were talking one day about schools^ — ^they were to have some new schools — -and Bonaparte said, ' Don't tell me about the schools — mothers are the best schools ! Let us have good mothers — mothers are the best schools I ' Don't you think so ? There was a little boy who was very wicked and obliged to be sent to a ' Refuge '. A ' Refuge ' is a place where naughty boys are sent. When he saw him the superintendent said, ' Well, my boy, what is your name ? ' He said, ' John Smith ! ' The superintendent was quite sure, from his manner and look, he was telling a lie. Did the superintendent say, ' You have told a lie ' } No, he did not say that, but he said, ' My lad, have you a mother ? ' And the boy said, ' Yes, I have ; she's a long way off. ' Do you think your mother knows about the bad things you have been doing ? ' 'I hope not,' was the reply. ' Do you ever think of your mother ? — do you love your mother ? ' He said : ' When I was a little boy I had a pretty rabbit. My mother loved my rabbit and I loved it. I used to stroke my rabbit, and one day I remember my mother stroked the rabbit too, and, as she stroked it, she said, "Pretty rabbit, pretty rabbit I " and her hand went over my hand as I was holding the rabbit — it was so soft. Oh that I could feel that soft hand now I What would I not give to feel it now ! ' The superintendent said, ' My boy, what is your name ? ' ' George Evershed, sir.' That was the truth. The thought of the mother's ' soft hand ' made him give up lying, and speak the truth. Well, 'Josiah was eight years old when he began to be a king'. You are not a * king,' are you? I am not a king, but, if we are God's dear children, we shall be kings some day, because God says so. Perhaps you have heard the story about the Duke of Hamilton. His eldest son was very ill, and he was lying upon the sofa. Of couree, as he was the eldest son, he would have been the duke when his father died ; he would have taken his title. His tutor, who was a clergyman, was talking to him, and explaining to him about the stars. Presently he said, 'I am going to where I shall know more about the stars than any of you do '. Then his brother came in, and he talked to him and said, 'Douglas! Dougla.s ! I am going to die ; you will be the duke, but / shall he a king ! ' It was quite true, wasn't it ? We are not quite kings yet. Now we'll think a little about King Josiah. He was fifteen years old when he began to seek God, because it says ' he was eight years old when he began to reign,' and that ' in the eighth year of his reign he began to seek after God '. People sometimes make a mistake in thinking that 192 2 KINGS XXII Josiah was pious when he was ' eight ' years old. But it was when he wsis fifteen. All things do not come at once. For instance, some flowers come out at one period of the year, and some at a later period. It is the same with people. Some are religious at one age, and some at another. I hope you have all begun to seek God. 'He began to seek God.' Now, I think you know, don't you? that before we seek God He seeks us. God seeks us, and then we seek God — as when we read, in the first chapter of St. John, that Jesu.s Christ went out one day and found Philip. When Philip gives an account of it afterwards he says, ' I h&ve found Jesus'. Which was true — Jesus found Philip or Philip found Jesus ? Both were tioie. But the most true wa-* that Jesus found I'hilip, and so Philip found Jesus. If you seek to find God you will find He was seeking you first. God is seeking you now. You are His child and He is seeking you. Seek Him, and you will find Him. There was a little boy, and at prayei-s his father was reading from the twenty-third chapter of Pro- verbs. He read, 'My son, give me thine heart'. The little boy did not say anything, but the words struck him very much : ' My son, give me thine heart '. He did not think about any other part of the chapter, because he was thinking about ' My son, give me thine heart'. \Vhen he went to bed he was heard to pray, ' O God, make my heart Thine own. For I give it Thee ! Make it Thy very own — Thy very own ! ' Did you ever say that to God ? — ' Lord, make my heart Thine own — "Thy very own '. And, do you know ? God did give him his petition. He became a very pious boy, and that prayer was the first beginning of it all : ' O Lord, make my heart Thy verv own '. So soon as Josiah began to ' seek the Lord,' of course he loved everything about God. He loved God's house, and, because it was in a very bad state, he began to repair it, and he spent a great deal of money to repair the temple, the house of God ; and he had a wonderful reward. As they were repairing the temple they came upon ' a book '. They had never seen such a book before. What book do you think it was ? It was ' the Bible ! ' What a strange thing I — it does not seem that any- body knew anything about the Bible. It seems almost as if that was the only Bible in all the country. But when they found it, they sent it to the High Priest, Hilkiah ; he gave it to Shaphan, the Lord Chancellor, as we should call him ; and Shaphan brought it to Josiah. And ' he read it before the king ' ; and when Josiah heard it read, ' he tore his clothes,' that is, ' rent his clothes '. The Jews did that whenever they were sorry. It meant, ' as I tear my clothes, so I deserve that God should tear me away from the Church of God I ' He was so sorry for all the wicked things he had done ! Well, then, God looked at Josiah, and saw that ' his heart was tender,' and God was pleased with him. And then Josiah took the Bible, and he went into the Church, and stood by a pillar'; and he had the book read to all the people. The great people had to come, and the little people, and the old, and the young; all had to come to hear the reading of the book just found. And all heard the Bible read. And Josiah said, ' We will make a promise that we will all be true to God and serve Him '. Therefore all the people gathered together, and all made a great promise, and entered into a covenant with God that they would serve Him. And God was pleased with them. And then they kept the Passover — such a beautiful Passover. Never had there been known such a Passover before as the one King Josiah kept. That was the way he showed his love to God. ' His heart was tender.' I want you to think a little about that, that Josiah's heart was tender. Do you think your heart is ' tender ? ' Have you a ' hard ' or a ' soft ' heart. How shall we get a ' soft heart' like Josiah's? I want you to think a little about a ' soft, tender heart,' a heart which God loves, a heart such as Josiah had. There was a man who was condemned to be hung, and his heart was ' as hard as a stone ! ' The chap- lain at the prison talked to him, and different people talked to him, but he would not answer. He did not seem to feel anything I He was so ' hard ' in prison. But one day there came down a message fi'om the Queen ' that he was repi'ieved,' ' not to be hung I ' When he was told that he burst into tears ! His heart was ' softened '. What softened him ? Not the command that he should be hung, but when he was told he was forgiven, that made his heart ' soft '. That was something like David's case. When he had been very naughty and wicked for years, and his heart was very hard, God sent Nathan to him, and he said, 'The Lord hath put away thy sin'. That made his heart so ' soft,' to know that he was forgiven. He then wrote the fifty-first P-alm. Oh, do try to have a very ' soft heart '. It is one of the best things you can have. Kemember that God loves you. Think how wonderful is that ' ' God loves me ! ' ' God has really forgiven me ! ' That will make your heart 'soft'. That will give you a ' tender ' conscience. ' Jesus loves me ! ' A boy some time ago went in for an examination in arithmetic. He could not do the sums ; so he got hold of the master's book. You know the book I mean — where all the answers to the sums are to be found. Well, he got this book, and he saw the answers, and he went and put down the right answer. But he didn't do the sum ; he didn't know how. Yet he got the prize. But, poor boy ! he was so miser- able. Something said to him, ' You are a cheat ! You are a thief ! You have taken away the prize from the next boy, who knew better than you. You are a cheat I You are a thief ! ' He could not sleep or be happy. So he got up and went to the master and told him what he had done. He lost the prize ; but he had 'a good conscience,' he had a 'tender 193 13 2 KINGS XXII heart,' God made him feel unhappy when he had done wrong. This tender heart came to Josiah from loving the Bible. Do you love it? I want to speak to you about loving the Bible. Do you love it ? I think every one would say, 'Yes' to that. But do you reverence your Bible ? You remember about Edward VI. — that Josiah of our England. I think everybody knows that when he was a little boy he saw somebody get the Bible to stand on, not being tall enough to reach something. Edward VI. said, 'You must not stand upon the Bible, it is God's Book '. Reverence it, treat it with respect and honour ; love and honour it ! I will tell you about a boy. He went to a shop to buy some soap that his mother sent him for. The woman who sold him the soap took a book and tore a leaf out to put the soap in. It was a Bible. The little boy did not like her to do that, and he said to the woman, ' Why, that's the Bible ! ' The woman said, ' Well, what of that ? ' The boy said, ' You must not use the Bible to wrap up soap in; it is God's Book '. ' But I bought it for that very pur- pose,' she answered, ' it is waste paper ! ' 'I wish it were my Bible,' said the boy. ' You may make it your Bible, if you like to pay for it,' the woman answered. The boy was very pleased and said, ' Oh, thank you,' and he ran home to his mother and told her all about this wicked woman tearing up the Bible to wrap the soap in, and how she had offered to sell it to him, and he said, ' Give me the money that I may have the Bible '. His mother said, ' I cannot give you the money, I have no money to spare, I am too poor ! ' So he went back to the woman and said, ' I can't get the money,' and he began to cry. ' I'll tell you what I'll do,' she said, ' if you will bring me the same weight of paper for it, I think I can manage for you to have the Bible ! ' So he went back home to his mother and she gave him all the spare paj)er she could ; and he went to the neigh- bours and begged some, and, having got as much as he could, he took it to the woman at the shop. ' I must he sure it is all right,' she said, ' before I can let you have the Bible ; I must weigh the j)aper you've brought.' So she put the paper in one scale and the Bible in the other scale. Fancy how the little boy looked when he saw the paper was the heaviest ! The Bible went up and the paper went down. He took the Bible in his hands and, with tears in his eyes, he said, ' I have got the Bible,' and ran away. He reverenced it. Never see the Bible used in any wrong way if you can help it Reverence it ! Love your Bible ! I have read of a little boy who wanted a Bible veiy much. Another boy said, ' I have one I wish to sell '. ' Sell it to me,' said the fii-st boy. But he had no money. ' If you give me your dinner for six days you shall have my Bible ! ' And the little boy did so. That was a fine action. Could you do that ? Would you give up your dinner for six days to net a Bible ? It is a wonderful Book ! I will tell you about a very strange book I once heard of It was a wonderful book — nothing was printed in it I It was a great comfort to the man who owned it, and was a useful book to the man. But there was nothing printed in it, and it had only three leaves. The first leaf was all black — black as your hat ; the second leaf was a bright red ; and the third leaf was all white. That book said to him — I cannot tell you what important things, and what a comfort it was. Do you understand it ? The first page, all black, is our sins — we are all black ; the second page, all red, is the blood of Jesus — all red ; and the next, all white, what we are when we are washed in the blood of Jesus — all white I Black — red — white ! Do you see ? There was evei-ything there — black, red, white — that is almost all there is in the Bible. There was a man and his wife who said they would read the Bible together. They had not been re- ligious. When they had read a little the man said, ' Wife, if this is all true, we are all wrong '. ' Yes.' He went reading a little further on, when he said, ' Wife, if this is all true, we are lost ! ' ' Yes.' He went a little further on, and he said, ' Wife, if this is all true, I see a way by which we can be saved ! ' ' Yes.' He went a little further on ; he said, ' Wife, if this is all true, / see the way — what we are to do to be saved, and what we are to do when we are saved ! ' That is the Bible I It shows us we have all done wrong, and what will become of us. And it shows us what we are to do to get our pardon, and what to do when we have got it. That is the way to read the Bible. Josiah loved his Bible. Boys and girls have got strange minds — don't you think so ? Have not you very odd minds ? Don't they change very much ? Don't you find you are very different one day from what you are another ? Don't you find you have different feelings now from what you had a few years ago ? Which are the best ? Were they your best feelings which you had some time ago ? or do you think you have your best feel- ings now ? I wonder which it is ? I am now going to use a very hard word. I don't suppose any young person in this church has ever heard of the word. I am sure I did not know there was such a word when I was your age. But I will explain it to you now. It is called ' palimpsest '. It is a very hard word — P-a-1-i-m-p-s-e-s-t, Palimpsest. About a hundred years ago, in the great library of Rome — the library of the Vatican — a monk found a large piece of parchment, and upon it was some writing. Somehow or other he suspected there was something written underneath the writing he could see. So he managed, by some chemical process, to get the first writing off; and, lo and behold, he found under that writing another writing, altogether differ- ent. Then he thought he would try the same pro- cess again. And he got that writing off, and then he found quite a different kind of writing. Then he tried again, with the same results. At length he found something that he could read. Someone told the 194 2 KINGS XXII monk it was because it was a palimpsest. Dr. John- son, who was then living, said that he thought, because parchment was so dear tliey used the same piece over and over again. Such writings were called ' palimp- sest manuscripts,' a term used in law. The reason I mention about the palimpsest is because I think there are a gieat many ' palimpsests ' here to-day ; many boys and girls with one layer upon another layer ! One may be called a layer of bad ; another may be called a layer of good, and then bad again ! Always changing ! Boys and girls never seem the same. I wonder if I were to take the ' layer ' ofl'of this 6th day of October, 1878, and show the ' layer ' of the 6th day of October, 1877, which would be the worst ? I wonder which ? You ask yourselves that question. ' Am I better than I was ? ' — J. Vaughan, Serm,on8 to Children (5th Series), p. 48. 195 THE FIRST BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES ROUQH RUBBING ' Glistering stones.' — i Chron. xxix. 2. These were stones which glanced and gleamed in the sunshine, much as coloured glass would do. You have all seen stones like them — smooth and polished and shiny — and you have wondered much how they came to be made so beautiful. Let me tell you. I. Stones are always Polished by their Own Dust. — The diamond is coarse and dark at first, but after it has been roughly cut and roughly ground it is rubbed and rubbed — oh, for ever so long — on diamond dust, and so it comes to be brighter than glass. And it is in the same way marble and gi-anite, and all manner of pebbles, get to be polished. I have a beautiful bit of porphyry (which is a kind of aristo- cratic granite) that came all the way from Carthage, where most likely Hannibal saw it, for it was part of a temple there in his time. Napoleon III. sent a block of it for a rare present to our Queen, and the piece I have is a chip of that block, and it has been most beautifully polished, and serves me finely for a paper-weight. (The Queen and I must be very good friends, you perceive, when we share presents between us !) It was while I was speaking the other day to the friends of the man who polished this stone that I learnt something which will interest you ; this one, like every polished stone, was made smooth and beautiful by its own dust And that is how boys and gu'ls and men and women get their best polish too. It is rubbing does it — rubbmg against their old mistakes, their old sins, their old foolishness. You can cipher pretty well now, can't you ? Very likely you can do even long division — and do it correctly too ! Ay, but do you mind the mistakes you Used to make even with simple addition? Oh, you needn't blush to own it now — for it has all come right at last — you got so rubbed and rubbed against these old mistakes, that at last you have come to be quite a polished cipherer. It was the same with your reading, it was the same with your writing, with your geography, your history, your music, and very much more. There was a time when it was all rough work, but now it has come to be quite smooth. And why ? because you were bent on becoming better, and .so were willino- to take the rubs of your old mistakes. Never, then, be ashamed to admit a mistake, for that shows that you are wiser now than when the mistake was made. They say' that 'experience teaches fools'. This is not the la^e. Expoiience teaches those who are wise: foolish folk don't learn much from experience; they aie not humble enough to take the rubbing and the drubbing of their old mistakes, and you know, unless we are humble we can never be wise. So never be ashamed to acknow- ledge when you have made a mistake. And it is just as important to learn how to make use of our old sins. Ah, if we use them rightly they can be made like the du.st of our old selves to polish and make us beautiful in the future. How cowardly Peter was when he denied Jesus ! Yes ; but after- wards how bold he became in standing up for the Lord, even when people mocked him. You see, he had wetted his old sin with tears of repentance, and had humbly taken all the pain of rubbing against it, and so had got the right polish out of it. The re- membrance of his cowardice shamed him afterwards to be always bold to speak for Jesus. That is the right way to use our old sins — make them serve to polish us and make us more beautiful in spirit. II. But learn next, The Test of a True Polish. — For thei'e is a true polish and a false polish, and it is not difficult to mistake the one for the other. When a stone has been ground for a time on its own dust it looks very smooth and nice. But looks are deceit- ful sometimes, and so the workman dashes some clean water on the smooth surface of the stone. Ah, how much brighter that makes the polish ! — ever so much brighter ! Yes, and that is just why the workman knows the polishing isn't perfect yet I You are astonished at this, are you not ? You would think that the brighter it shone when the water was on it, the more nearly perfect it would be. Yes, but that is just how it isnt ; for if the stone has got the pro- per polish it should shine just the same whether there is water on it or not. And this is where a great big lesson comes in. If we are right Christian boys or girls, men or women, we should be able to show that we are — everywhere and always. When you have been out in the country and have come to one of those sweet, pure, baby brooks that run over the brown sand, and chatter, chatter as they go, like as babies always will, oh, how beautiful are all the pebbles there ! They are ' glistering stones,' every one of them. And you gather them out and fill your pocket with them, or more likely you take a whole handkerchief full, and you mean to have a museum at home that will be worth looking at. Yes, but somehow, when you do get home, the pebbles don't seem j ust so bright as they were when the water went over them and the sunshine dived down to them, l^hey are very dull now, and in a few days they get very dim and dark, and at last you begin to notice the fact that the pebbles aren't polished after all ! They were bright — very bright — so long as the 196 Ver. 2. 1 CHRONICLES XXIX Ver. 2. water was on them, but the fact is the brightness was in the water and not on the pebbles. And just so there are people who are very good in some places who are very bad in others. They may be very good in church — quite polished stones there — but the same people may be very bad at home or at business — and that shows they haven't the right polish in themselves. You may be very good at school so long as the master has his eye on you, but as soon as his eye is turned away maybe you copy from the next one's slate. That shows you are only sly and cheatful — you haven't the right polish for a true boy or a true girl. This is what God wants to polish us for — that we may shine before Him gloriou.s for ever. These 'glistering stones' the text speaks about were to be set in the temple of God when they had been pre- pared enough. And God wants to set us in His temple above for ever. Ah, we can't deceive Him ! If we aren't real — Christ's boys and Christ's girls, Christ's men and Christ's women from the heart — we can never be set in the temple above. Live for this, and so live for Jesus Christ ; and as you strive every day and in every way to do this by prayer and trust. He will guide you, He will shape you. He will polish you — even your tears will help the work — till you become ' lively,' living stones, to shine before the Lord in His temple for ever and ever. — J. Reid How ATT, The Children's Pulpit, p. 77. 197 THE SECOND BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES A BRIGHT SUNRISE AND A GLOOMY SUNSET ' Joash was seven years old when he began to reig^.' — 2 Chronicles xxiv. i. I AM going to speak to you to-day about Joash, one of the Kings of Judah. He ascended the throne when he was only the age of some of you I now ad- di-ess — seven years old. ' What a happy little boy I ' you may say. Stop a little. Do not envy the great. They are not always the happiest. They have often to face terrible temptations and dangers others are well free from. It is a dizzy height a throne. Do you remember, I told you, when speak- ing some Sundays ago about Jabez, to seek rather to be good than to be great ? Better have God's love and blessing than a crown of gold upon your head. In that same sermon I even said to you to try rather to be good than to be learned. I was struck in leading the life of an honoured minister of Christ with what he vrrote to his son at college: 'I had rather,' he says, 'you had the three prizes of Faith, Hope, and Love, than all the prizes that all the uni- versities of the whole world can confer'. There is one thing Joash was to be envied in. When he was a little child he had a pious and devoted uncle and aunt. He was left an orphan. He had escaped from a cruel death when all his brothers were slain. But this Jehoiada and his wife had stolen him secretly, and hid him in one of the chambers of the Temple. For six whole years they kept him there in safety, and were very kind to him. We can think of them as they sat by his little couch and smoothed his pillow, and dried the tears of the lonely boy, and did what they could to cheer his early years. What was better, they taught his young heart to fear the great and good God of Israel. It must have been a dreadful thought to little Joash, if he knew the whole truth, that he was the only one of all the royal family that was spared. Every one of the others, as I have just said, had been cruelly murdered — some by their own father, others by their wicked grandmother, others by order of Jehu. But when the boy came to be seven years of age his uncle Jehoiada, who was also the High Priest, brought him one day into the Temple to pro- claim him king. That uncle managed to conceal a laige foice of Levites and others in one of the courts of the house. It so happened that King David had, long ago, stored the shields and spears which he had taken in his wars in the treasury of the Temple. So Jehoiada seized them and gave them to the un- armed men. And then he brought out young Joash, tt) be anointed and crowned as monarch. The latter stood on a ' pillar' (or as that rather means, a throne on the top of a cluster of pillars) ; and the cry was heard amid shouts and music, ' God save the King ! ' I like the part of that coronation scene, when his uncle Jehoiada made him a present. What do you think that present was ? Was it a jewelled sceptre ? or a golden crown ? or a royal bracelet ? No. It was a copy of the Sacred Scriptures, ' the Law of God '. It reminds me of what our own good Prince Albert did not long before his own death. He got a sculptor to carve in white marble a statue of the pious King of England, Edward VI., who died, as you know, when he was a youth. The statue is represented with a scepti'e pointing to or resting on the Bible, and if you went close to it you would find the inscrip- tion carved beneath (it is taken from the Bible history of young King Josiah in 2 Chronicles xxxrv. 1-3) : ' While he was yet young, he began to seek after the God of David his father '. Our lamented Prince seems to have had in his mind the possibility of his own early departure ; and he thought he would like to make this beautiful present to his children and his children's children, so that when his own lips were sealed and silent, though dead he might yet speak to them. By that marble sceptre pointing to the Bible he would tell not only his own, but the children of all Britain, what in his eyes would make them happiest ; make them at once truly great and truly good. Jehoiada, the High Priest of Israel, at the time of which we have been speaking, seems to have had the same love and reverence for God's holy law. I think, too, that Joasli himself, while he was young and his heart was yet tender, loved that law. Indeed we know that he continued a righteous king all the time he was in the charge of his uncle. One of the most interesting things for you to remember about his reign is, that aided by Jehoiada he set up the first ' missionary box ' we read of in the Temple of Jeru- salem ! I shall give you the description in the very words of the Bible : ' And at the king's commandment they made a chest, and set it without at the gate of the house of the Lord ' (2 Chron. xxiv. 8). ' But Jehoiada the priest took a chest, and bored a hole in the lid of it, and set it beside the altar, on the right side as one cometh into the house of the Lord : and the priests that kept the door put therein all the money that was brought into the house of the Lord ' (2 Kings XII. 9). Well might Joash love the Temple and wish to put it i-i order, for he owed his life to it. I dare say he would delight every now and then to visit the little chamber in it where he spent his early years. And when he looked around and thought of God's great 198 Ver. 1. 2 CHRONICLES XXIV Ver. 12. goodness and mercy in saving iiini from a ciuel death, he would say to himself, 'I should like to do some- thing for this great God who was so kind to nie : who spared my young life, and who has watched over me since then. I shall show my gratitude by trying to build and repair His holy house.' And he took this plan to do it. It is pleasant to think when you are collecting money for the heathen in your missionary boxes that it was a young King of Judah who set up the first one of these in the Temple on Mount Zion 2700 years ago I Joash continued to give great promise of piety. He destroyed the altars of Baal, and wished his people to sei-ve and woi-ship the true God alone. He seemed to be happy, and for the long period of twenty-three years his kingdom was prosperous. I wish I could stop here. I wish I could tell you that Joash's reign now ended or that he died a godly monarch, and that, as a godly king, he was gathered to his fathers. But I grieve to say that after good Jehoiada's death Joash became wicked. He fell into the hands of wicked advisers and evil men ; restored the worship of Baal ; and forgot the Lord God of Israel and all the good counsel that his uncle and aunt had given him. Ah, sad it is for boys or girls when away from their parents' eyes, or when their fathers and mothers and godly friends have been laid in the grave, to set aside their wholesome words and advices and follow that of evil companions instead. Joash was specially guilty of one most wicked and ungrateful deed. His cousin Zechariah, now the High Priest, was the son of that old and best friend. What did he do to him ? When Zechariah told him that he should not serve false gods or build altars to Baal, Joash got the people to stone the High Priest to death ; in that very court of the Lord's house, too, where Zechariah's father had kept him safe so long. Jesus Himself, you may remember, speaks of this cruel story (Matt. XXIII. 35) . It is very wrong, in any circumstances to be unkind, but it is worst of all to be unkind to those who have been kind to us and who have a claim on our love and gratitude. When Joa.sh's poor cousin was thus being beaten by his murderers the dying man said, ' The Lord look upon it and require it'. The Lord did look upon it ; the Lord did require it. The voice of that blood rose from the earth ; and God again, in the case of the wicked king, showed how true the words are, ' Be sure your sin will find you out '. Hazael, the great Syrian captain, came down from the far north with his armies. He besieged Jerusalem and took all the treasures of gold and silver from the Temple. And what became of the wretched Joash ? He had no one to be kind to him or to feel for him now. He was in the tower of Millo, tossing on a bed of sore pain and disease, probably fi'om a wound he had re- ceived in battle. He was unable to rise, and his own servants were so displeased at him for the cruel murder of his cousin that they slew him as he lay helpless on his couch. They refused, too, to bury him in the royal sepulchre. He died unpitied, un- loved, without a friend and without a tear ! How sad to give piomise in early life of doing so well and to jierish wicked and unmourned. He was forty-seven years old when he died. Better had it been if he had died at seven. Better if he had had a little tomb in the royal vaults with the inscrip- tion over his early death, ' All Israel mourned for him I ' than at the age of forty-seven to have a for- gotten grave somewhere in the city of David, with the inscription on it, ' Here lies the Ungrateful King ! ' It is better to die young in God's service than to live to be old and go over to Satan's service. This should comfort any of you who may have lost some brother or sister when these were very young. Who knows but they may have been ' taken away from the evil to come ! ' ' Better David's dead little child than his living Absalom.' If I had been Joash's father (or his uncle, who loved him as a father), I would rather have canied him to his grave at seven than seen him live only to do evil and bring down grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. How different his death and his grave to that of his uncle ! The story of the latter is touching in its shortness, simplicity, and beauty : ' And they buried him in the city of David among the kings, because he had done good in Israel, both toward God, and toward his house ' (2 Chron. xxiv. 16). Seek so to live that when you come to die, though you may be laid in no kingly sepulchre, people may gather round your gi-ave and say of you, as of good -lehoiada, ' He had done good in Israel, both toward God, and toward his house ' ; or like some children I lately read of who, as they stood with their eyes full of tears round the resting-place of their little brother, were heard saying, ' Oh, how good he was ! We want to be like him I ' That little brother of theire had not lived in vain. Though dead they felt he was in one sense still living among them by his holy example. After the sky-rocket, the favourite of your fireworks, shoots high up in the dark night, you have seen a shower of red sparks falling down to the earth. That rocket reminds one of bright memoiies which such a beautiful young life leaves behind it. He being dead yet shines, 'He being dead yet speaketh'. — J. R. Macduff, Hosannas of the Children, p. 237. ' A PATCH ' 2 Chronicles xxiv. 12. There is an old saying, ' A stitch in time saves a patch ' (a revised version) . Some boys and girls put on a fine pout if called upon to wear patched clothes. There is no discredit in wearing patched clothes if they are neat and clean. Do not heed what thought- less folk may say. No one can go through life without patching. A man makes a business blunder and he must rectify it. A girl has offended her girl friend — she must make an honourable apology to heal the 199 Vv. 1, 2. 2 CHRONICLES XXXIV Vv. 1, 2. breach. In our school sports we get a cut or a bi-uise — that must be healed with a patch. Now let us take the word to pieces and see what is in it. A Patch of Pity as seen in a piece of medical plaster. The baby over-reached himself and fell out of his chair and cut his head. The doctor came and sewed up the cut and put some pieces of plaster on his head. He is now quite a pretty baby and well patched. Art. — -Patches on the face. It was an old custom to cover little pimples with small round pieces of silk. Perhaps you have seen quaint pictures of men and women decorated in this way. I have read of an artist who once covered an ugly scar on the face of a great soldier by representing him as standing with his head resting on his hand, his finger covering the scar. Tenderness. — When the Prodigal Son of Luke xv. returned, bruised and broken, his father ran out to meet him and greeted him with a kiss. Often a silent handshake will draw life's ragged edges together and heal a rent. Comfort. — I cannot illustrate this point better than by relating the following incident : The mem- bers of a children's sewing club made a patchwork quilt and gave it to a needy, lonely old man. In the centre the text ' God is Love ' was worked in crimson letters. This silent message was the means which finally led to the conversion of the old man. Honour. — It is related how that when James Gar- field was a student in college he wore patched clothes, at which some of his fellows sneered and called him Patches. In spite of his patches the day came when he sat in the president's chair at the White House, Washing- ton, the pride of his mother and a nation. I close with a little ditty : — Plod, pray, and peg away, Patches win a golden day. — A. G. Weller, Sunday Oleams, p. 20. THE BOY-KINQ •Josiah was eight years old when he began to reigrn, and he reigned in Jerusalem one and thirty years. And he did that which was right in the sight of the Lord, and walked in the ways of David his father, and declined neither to the right hand nor to the left.' — 2 Chronicles xxxiv. i, 2. The life of the good King Josiah is written in the chapter from which the text is taken and the one which next follows. It is a very interesting biography indeed. You will find another account of it in the twenty-second and twenty-third chapters of the Second Hook of Kings. You should read both. In the record of this pious king's history, as it is found in the place refen-ed to in Kings, there are two things ■which are worthy of special remark. The first Is this : A Ions: time before he was bom there was a prophecy about him by his name, to the effect that he would destroy the altar built to idol-calves in Bethel by wicked Jeroboam. Now this prophecy was exactly fulfilled in Josiah's lifetime. The follow- ing is the account of its accomplishment as given by the sacred historian : ' Moreover the altar that was at Bethel, and the high place which Jeroboam the son of Nebat, who made Israel to sin, had made, both that altar and the high place he brake down, and burned the high place, and stamped it small to powder, and burned the grove '. The other thing very desei'ving of notice is this : The Spirit of God writes a very wonderful eulogy on him. He tells us that like unto Josiah 'was there no king before him, that turned to the Lord with all his heait, and with all his soul, and with all his might, according to all the law of Moses ; neither after him arose there any like him '. Judah had been privileged to have many good kings before ; but none had shown zeal and energy and lovely humility like his. Now this king came to the throne while he was yet a niei'e child ; and it is this circum- stance which I intend to give as the key-note to our meditation in this sermon. I have therefore announced the subject of it as 'the boy-king'. Let me call your attention : — I. To Josiah's Early Piety. — We are told that ' while he was yet young he began to seek after the- God of David his father'. This was in the eighth year of his reign, when he was between fifteen and sixteen years old. You will say there are very many children who seek and find the Saviour younger than that. True, but I think the meaning of the words I have quoted is not that then for the first time he sought the Lord secretly. Public conduct seems to be referred to ; consulting the prophets for direction ; worshipping God in the Temple, and in such a way as to say to all the people he had set out in the spirit and the course of his great father David. This open seeking of the God of Israel was coming out to be on the Lord's side, declaring against idols and the evils that ensnared others of Judah's kings who had preceded him. It was forsaking the eiTors of Amon his father, and approving of Manasseh's last days, not his first It was like joining a church among us ; like making a visible profession of following Christ by going to His table. And having made this com- parison, let me add that surely all children of godly parents ought to be found, at latest, giving them.selves to Christ and to His Church about the age mentioned in Josiah's case. I do not say how much sooner it would be fitting for them to seek a place at the Lord's table, but surely fifteen cannot be too juvenile an age. Whatever your age, have you begun to give any evidence that you are seeking the God of your fethers ? Do you remember that text in the Psalms, ' When Thou saidst. Seek ye My face, my heart said unto Thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek ? ' Have you heard God so speak to you? Have you answered Him so? II. Josiah's Early Usefulness. — \ ou have often heard of the Reformei-s. You are familiar with the names of Luther and Calvin and Knox. Now Josiah was, in his day, a reformer. He delivered Judati from idol-woi-ship, and brought back the service of the true 200 Vv 1, 2 CHRONICLES XXXIV Vv. 1, 2. God. He began his great work when he was only twenty veal's of age. He found Jerusalem and all the land in a very bad state. There were altars to false gods everywhere, and the Temple of the God of Israel was fallen into disrepair and decay. The ordi- nances of I'eligion, the sacrifices, the feasts, and the rites of cleansing, were all neglected. Tliere was not much to distinguish Judah from a heathen country. Finding things in this condition, Josiah with great energy set himself to promote a revival of true re- ligion. He did three great works. He removed the idols ; he repaired the Temple ; he restored the wor- ship of God. I. He removed the idols. He did this very thoroughly and widely and per- severingly. Let us go with him in our thoughts down into the valley of Hinnom and see how he acted. In that valley there was a place for the worship of Moloch, with, probably, an image of the idol. If it was like his image elsewhere it was very hideous, for it is said to have been made of brass, with a head like a calf, wearing a crown, and having its arms extended to receive the poor children that wei'e made to pass through the fire to it. For this horrid purpose the arms were made red-hot, and the cries of the child, when placed on them, were drowned with the noise of drums and other loud instruments. The poet Milton speaks of Moloch, and calls him — Horrid king, besmeared with blood Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears ; Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud Their children's ci-ies unheard, that passed through fire To his grim idol. No wonder that good Josiah determined to put an end to dreadful rites like these. So he destroyed everything used in the worship of Moloch, and defiled the place, burning dead men's bones there in all like- lihood, as he did elsewhere, and making it a place for receiving all kinds of offscourings and filth. II. Besides destroying altars and idols and cleansing the house of God from the images and vessels sacred to Baal, Josiah repaired the house of God. He did not merely work a reformation in the way of removing the evil, like Jehu. He was as earnest to build the Temple of the true God as to overthrow the high places where the false deities were worshipped. So he gave money to restore the sacred edifice. He appealed to the priests and Levites and roused them into zeal. He infused his own spiiit into them. So carpenters and masons were employed, and stones and timber were purchased, and the building was thor- oughly repaired. While this was being done a remarkable thing happened. It would appear that King Josiah all the time he was .seeking the Lord and warring against idols had not a copy of the Bible of his day. For as they were clearing away ruins from the Temple the sacred volume, the book of the law, was found. And when Josiah read it and found bow utterly its commandments had been neglected and what punishments were threatened in it, he rent his clothes and trembled and sent to a prophetess to ask the Lord about it, praying for mercy. Then having received a comforting message, and the Temple being now repaired, he set himself to bnng Israel to observe the law. III. This was the third thing he did, he restored God's worship. He took the Word of God as his rule to go by. The consequence was that he influenced a great many others, and there was a general revival of the service of God in the land. Amongst other things there was held a wonderful Passover. There had not been a Passover like it for hundreds of years. There is a minute account of it in the chapter following this of my text. Josiah made great donations of cattle towards it. The nobles followed his example. All persons that were to officiate wei'e in their places ; priests, Levites, singers, porters, and people. What a scene Jerusalem must have presented during the the paschal week, and oh, how happy must the king have been to see it ! Now I must tell you of four noble qualities that Josiah showed in all this, and ask you to think about them and imitate them. 1. He showed a tender heart. 2. He showed a docile mind. 3. He showed an open hand. 4. He showed a fei-vent spirit. III. Josiah's Early Death. — The manner of Josiah 's death was strange. He was left to act very foolishly. He did not ask counsel of God, and would go to battle with the King of Egyjit, who had no quarrel with him. In the battle the archers shot at and wounded him. He got back to Jerusalem only to die. But his death, though untimely and in war, was for him happy. How he was esteemed was shown at his death. All Judah and Jerusalem mourned for him, led in their lamentations by Jeremiah the pro- phet. There is a circumstance which shows how true a sorrow this was, and how great. In Zechariah's prophecies, when he is predicting the grief of the Jewish people when they shall wake to a sense of their sin in crucifying the Lord of glory, he compares their mourning to this for Josiah in the valley of Megiddon, and describes its bitterness as that of a father mourning for the loss of his first-bom son. Ah, well might Judah mourn her noble and lovely prince ! If anything could have averted God's wrath it would have been a life like his. But now that he is gone the end hastens apace. Now, to close, here is a beautiful example for you to copy. Do not say Josiah was a king and we can- not imitate him. For though not to do his work, you may diink in his spirit. Think of those four noble qualities I named, and be like him in these. Be tender of heart, docile of mind, liberal of hand, and fervent of spirit. Two things his life says to the young : Be pious children ; remember your Creator in the days of your youth ; Be useful children ; do some good while you live. Then, even if you should die young, you will die beloved and grieved for by the good on earth ; while God Himself will take you 20 : Ver. 3. 2 CHRONICLES XXXIV Ver. 3. to heftven and give you joy and glory there. — J. Edmon'd, The Children's Church at Home, p. 628. JOSIAHS EARLY PIETY ' For in the eighth year of his reign, while he was yet young, he began to seek after the God of David his father.'— 2 Chronicles xxxiv. 3. God has told us something about Josiah when he ■was young. He has been pleased to tell us exactly how old he was. It is pleasant to know this when we read a story. God has told us this about Josiah. It is a very important age from eight to eighteen. Most of you in this church are about that age. That is exactly the time when God gives us an account about Josiah. He began to reign when he was eight years old, and after he was eighteen he reigned twenty years longer. I am not going to speak to-day about anything that happened after he was eighteen ; but only of that which took place from the time he was eight years old to the time he was eighteen. Josiah, I am sorry to say, had not a good father. His father's name was Amon. I should think when Josiah was a very little boy everybody loved him ; for, when his father died, the people took him and made him their king. But though he had not a good father, I think he had a good mother. Her name was Jedidah, which means ' Beloved of the Lord '. It is the same name that Solomon had — one of his names. However, it does not prove she was a good woman because she had a good name ; but I have another reason. Did it ever strike you when reading the Kings and the Chronicles how often it says, when speaking of difi'erent men becoming kings, ' So-and-so became king, and he did that which was right in the sight of the Lord, and his mother's name was So-and-so ' ; and in other places, ' So-and-so began to reign, and he did that which was evil in the sight of the Lord, and his mother's name was So-and-so '. It often reads like that ; as if the fact of a king being a good king or a bad king depended chiefly on who his mother was. No doubt we all owe a great deal to our dear fathers and mothers. AVe shall never know till we get to heaven how much we owe to them. I dare say if we reach heaven, and if there we talk about these things and ask one another, ' How did you get to heaven ? ' a great many will say, ' Oh ! it was my mother ; it was my father ; I owe everything to them. It was that dear, wise, faithful father I had, who used to talk to me so kindly when I was little ; it was that sweet, kind mother, who used to take me on her knees, and read the Bible to me.' Honour your mothers. Especially boys, treat your mothers with great respect. Never trifle with your mother ; never be rude to your mother. I dare say you have read about John Newton — he had a good mother. When he was a young man he was very wild and wicked ; afterwards he was con- verted and became a true Christian and a very great one. He used to say, ' Even when I was very wild I could never forget my mother's soft hand. When going to do something wicked I could always feel her soft hand on my head. If thousands of miles away fiom her I could not forget that.' Never forgetyour mother's soft hand ! So Jedidah (who, I think, was a pious woman) was the mother of King Josiah. He was just eight years old when his father died and he was called to the throne. What a little boy to be king ! Do you ex- pect to hear that he began immediately to do gi-eat things ? No, I do not, for God would not have wished him to do what the world calls great things. But I will tell you what he did. I think he had some wise people about him to help him and guide him. There wasShaphan the scribe, and Hilkiah the High Priest, and some others, who were his chief friends, but particularly Shaphan. Well now, from the time that he was eight years of age to the time he was eighteen, shall I tell you what he did ? Josiah kept in a straight path. He did not turn to the right ; he did not turn to the left ; but kept a straightforward course. I will read the text where it says so, 2 Kings xxii. 2 : ' And he did that which was right in the sight of the Lord, and walked in all the way of David his father, and turned not aside to the right hand or to the left '. He pursued a straightforward course. Of course he had lessons to learn ; he saw people ; and he went about ; but still he ' turned not aside to the right hand or to the left '. Now, that is exactly what you are to do. You are to keep a straight course and not turn aside. I shall speak to you a little about keeping this straight- forward course now, though you may be very young. You have to give yourselves to learning, in order that by and by you may be useful ; you have to serve God and keep His commandments — to love Him, and be- come a Christian : this is your straight course. If anybody wants you to go aside, to do something that is wrong — to turn to the right or to the left — you must be able to say, ' No '. You are to keep a straight course. This is what I want to talk to you a little about. How very straight sometimes are the furrows that you see in a ploughed field. How does the plough- man manage to plough so straight ? One day I asked him, and he said, ' I always keep my eyes fixed upon a mark in the wall or hedge at the end of the field ; when I do that I plough straight ; but if I look at the plough or take my eye off" the mark I do not go straight '. If ever you try to walk along a narrow plank, across a dangerous place, the best way is to keep your eye on something at the other end — not to look down at your feet, or you will fall. How does a ship manage to go so straight in the sea, where there are tides to throw it out of its course ? Why, the man at the wheel or rudder holds it quite firm, and so the ship goes straight. Do you see what I me.in ? Now there are three things I think which make & 202 Ver. 3. 2 CHRONICLES XXXIV Ver. 3. straight course. The fust thing is this, a boy or girl who wishes to follow a straight path, the path of duty, must be an honest, upright, and a truthful child — never swei ve fioiii the truth ; but keep to the truth honestly and exactly. I do not know any sin which is so bad, as for you not to be quite true, quite honest — because then you are so unlike Jesus Christ, who is ' The Truth '. I have a good hope of a boy or girl who speaks the truth ; but if children begin to depart from the truth, alas ! for them. Nothing is so bad as for a boy or girl not to speak the truth. Avoid the least shade of lying — the least shade of prevarication. Be quite honest about little things. Never take things not your own. Never take advan- tage. Never try to deceive. Take a straight course. I had the pleasure of knowing a gentleman who told me of a little circumstance I should like to relate to you. I will not mention his name, but he is a very rich gentleman indeed : he brings into this country all the guano that comes into England from South America. He is a merchant in London, and he makes a good use of his money — he builds churches and schools, and is exceedingly kind to charities. He was not always so rich, but he has been a very upright, honest man of business, and God has blessed him, and I am almost afraid to tell you how much he is worth, it is of no use my telling you ; but I will tell you what he said : ' I trust I have ever tried in my life to be honest ; and what first made me think of being very honest was this : when a little boy, my mother went out shopping, and took me with her. She went to a wool shop and she bought some wool, and I picked up a little bit, a scrap of wool lying on the floor — -I did not mean any harm — and when I went away, I took it away with me. My mother asked me where I obtained it. I said, " Mamma, I picked it up from the shop floor ". She said, " Is it not yours ? " I said, " It is only a scrap ". She said, " It is not yours. You must go back with me to the shop, and ask the shopkeeper's forgiveness, because it is taking away that which is not your own ! ' Now,' said the gentleman, ' that little bit of wool I have thought of all through my life, both when I was a young man of business, and now I am an old man. It taught me a lesson about honesty in little things that I never forgot. It kept me good all my life.' Remember, if it is only a little scrap of wool off the floor, if it is not yours, you cannot take it without quitting the straight course. Do not turn aside to the right or to the left ; be like Josiah. Now, another thing. There must be something to send you along a straight course — you would not go without — like the arrow which lies on the ground ; but if you take a good bow, and shoot off' the arrow, it will go straight. We mu.st try to have a good bow, something that will send us straight. What will do this ? I only know of one thing — that is, the love of God. If you have the love of God in your heart you will always go straight. Some people will tell you of other reasons. They say, ' Be honourable. because you will get into disgrace if you are not', I do not think much of th.it. There must be the love of God in your hearts ; if you have not that you will begin to be dishonest and a hypocrite. But if the love of God is in your heart it will take you straight. There was an excellent old clergyman many years ago, who was lying on his sick-bed, and many wished to go and see him, and the doctor said he must not see anyone. But a little boy, who.se name was David, peeped in at the door, and he saw him ; and the clergyman said, ' David, come to my bedside. Do you see that door in that little room ? If you were to go in there the walls would tell you, if they could speak, how often I have knelt down in that little room and given my heart to Jesus Christ. I have done it over and over again. I was so huppv when I could do that. Oh, David,' said the dying clergyman, ' have you ever done it ? Have you ever given your heart to God ? ' These words took such an effect upon little David that he went home and knelt down in his bedroom and gave his heart to God there and then ; and that little boy became a clergyman and lived fifty years afterwards. He ascribed all to that. He began, you see, by giving his heart to God — the love of God impelled him. But I must state one more thing. The ploughman ploughs right because he looks at something before him. Have an object in life. What are you living for? A far object? Something far off ? Have you an object in eternity ? Are you living for eternity ? I have read of a very little boy, and they called him ' Robby ' ; he died when he was quite young, and he used to go about always .saying, 'Come, come! Come, children ! Come, papa ! Come, mamma ! Come, brothel's ! ' ' Where, Robby ? ' ' To heaven ; come to heaven.' And when he was 'lying upon a sick-bed, from which he never recovered, to everybody that came into his room he said, ' come ! come ! come ! ' ' Where ? ' ' To heaven.' He was living for an object. He was trying to get everybody to heaven — trying to do good. He had something worth living for. And yet that little boy was only three or four years old. We ought always to be doing good, saying, ' Come ! Come ! ' ' Where ? ' ' To heaven to be sure I ' You remember my three rules for a straight course : one is, to ba perfectly honest and true ; I have no hope of you if vou be not perfectly honest and true ; the second is, have the love of God in your heart to send you on ; and thirdlv, have an object to live for. Now I must go on to another thing in Josiah. You will not be surprised to hear that Josiah went on this straight course and loved the church of God. Now the church wanted repairing ; and one of the first things he did when old enough, I suppose, to rule (for Shaphan, the protector, had ruled for him) when he took the reins in his own hands, he undertook the repairing of God's Temple ; and he was so honest that I suppose it made all his people honest : for when he sent to repair it he put a great deal of money into Ver. 3. 2 CHRONICLES XXXIV Ver. 3. the hands of the carpenters, the builders, and the masons, and never reckoned with them at all. See what good example can do I It seems to me that he had such an influence that ail the people became so honest that he needed not to reckon money with them. A remarkable thing happened while the repairing of the Temple was taking place: and strange things often take place when we least expect them. And what do you think it was ? Why, they found a Bible — it seems to have been the only Bible in the land — a copy of the Pentateuch. God had said it should be kept near the ark. Well, they found this copy of the law ; and Josiah had never seen a Bible before, and he was very much surprised at it : for Hilkiah the High Priest gave the book to Shaphan, and he brought it to the king : he was much pleased also, and he said to Shaphan, ' You read '; and he began to read — some think he read the twenty-eighth chapter of Deuteronomy ; whatever passage it was, it touched Josiah's heart so that it made him cry — he shed a great many tears — for there were so many beautiful things in the book ; and he was very much hurt when he heard of the people still worshipping idols ; he had not known it before, but when this began to be read, he was so humbled and softened, for he had a soft and tender heart, when he was only about sixteen. I know some boys who, when they are about twelve or fourteen, think it is manly not to show any feel- ing ; and they will laugh at the boy who would cry when he heai'd anything very touching. God thinks diflerently. I do not know anything so important as to keep a tender heart. Mind what I say about that. The world too soon makes us hard-hearted. Do everything you can to keep your heart soft. Look at ^ Kings xxii. 19 : ' Because thine heart was tender, and thou hast humbled thyself before the Lord, when thou heardest what I spake against this place, and against the mhabitants thereof, that they should be- come a desolation and a curse, and hast rent thy clothes and wept before Me ; I also have heard thee, saith the Lord '. Now let us speak a little about 'a soft and tender heart '. Is your heart soft and tender ? Sometimes you are miserable when you do something wrong : and after you have done it several times, you begin to do it and not care much about it — till by and by you do it without any feeling. The first thing which shows a tender heart is when we feel little sins very much. David felt that. You recollect that once or twice he could have killed Saul, but he did not ; he only took away his spear and a cruise of water, and on another occasion he cut off the skirt of his lobe. Saul was his enemy. Was he wrong in so doing? Yes, for he was the king. David felt this, and his ' heart smote him'. You know it is said he prayed to God to make his heart like melting wax; he tried to keep it like a little weaned child — like was. One great thing towards having a tender heai't is to feel quickly when you have done wrong. I will tell 20 you how it is. I wonder whether any of you ever had in your bedroom an alarum clock to wake you. You fix it at a certain hour and when that hour arrives, it makes a whining noise which wakes you. As soon as it strikes you generally wake. But suppose you do not ; and the next day, and the next two or three days this happens — why, the alarum will sound, but it will not wake you. You have an alarum in you. Do you know what the alarum is ? Your conscience. It speaks to you, tells you when you do wrong. If you listen to the alarum, then it will be very useful to you ; but if, when the alarum within you (your conscience) speaks, you do not attend, then you will be able to sleep through it It will go, but go for nothing. You will be able to go on just as you like, not minding the alarum. Attend to your alai-um clock. Keep a tender heart. Always consider your conscience. There is a beautiful little Persian fable of a man who picked up a scented piece of clay, and he looked at it, and said to it, ' Who are you ? ai-e you musk ? ' And the thing in his hand answered, ' I am a poor bit of clay, but I have been near a rose, and the rose has given me its own sweet smell '. Do you under- stand it ? We are all poor bits of clay. If we keep near ' The Rose,' we shall all be sweet bits of clay ! and then everybody will know we have been near ' The Rose '. Now I will mention one more thing which will show a tender heart It is to be very kind to one another. Oh, be kind. I hope you can never bear to see a poor animal in pain — never look at it. If you can help it, do ; but do not feel pleasure in seeing it Never put anyone's body or mind in pain, especially little children's. Big boys in school, be kind to the little ones. Elder girls, be kind, tender, and gentle to the little ones. I should like to tell you about a boy whose name was Caleb ; he lived at a place called Maresfield. He was a cripple, he went on crutches ; he had a hump on his back ; but he was a very kind boy. All the boys used to laugh at him, or walk just like him, and call him ' Hunchback,' and say, 'Now I am just like Hunchback '. Some would knock his crutches from under him. They were so unkind to him; but he was very kind to them. He would mend their kites, tell them stories, and be a friend to them in trouble. So he lived down tlieir ridicule. One boy, Frederic, who was the worst of all his tormentors, was one day climbing up a steep place and fell and broke his leg ; and he was obliged to lie in bed for weeks ; and who do you think was his greatest friend ? Why Caleb ; and Frederic said to him, ' The noise of your crutches is music to me as you come upstairs ; you never reproach me ; you have always something kind to say to me '. One day Caleb said, ' Cheer up, my friend, I have .seen a boy run about as well as ever, who broke his leg ; he was ill for weeks, but now he does not feel it. You will be like him soon. I have brought you some pears,' and he pulled out of his pocket some i Ver. 3. 2 CHRONICLES XXXIV Ver. 3. nice, rijse, delicious pears. Frederic turned aside. At last he said, 'Caleb, I cannot stand tins any longer. I used to tease you and throw stones at you ; and now, in my trouble, you are my best friend, and tell me such pleasant things and give me such nice pears. How is it ? ' Caleb said, ' Well, suppose you did throw stones at me, you never broke my bones ; and if you did laugh at me, you never hurt me ; Christ says we must forgive, for He has forgiven us '. ' Oh, Caleb,' said he, ' how can you do this ? ' Caleb said, ' It is only as God helps me, that I can do it. I pray to God, and that makes all the difference.' Frederic said, ' I will begin to do the same '. And he lived to recover, and was able to walk again ; but he never after teased Caleb, but they lived as Christians to- gether. Isaiah says Jesus Christ was ' a tender plant '. If you are ' a tender plant,' you are like Him. David says we are to be like 'the tender grass'. What makes ' tender grass ' ? The dew of the morning and evening. If you want a tender heart, take care you have the dew of the morning and evening. The Holy Spirit is the dew. Take care you have the Holy Spirit coming continually to keep your heart tender. ' Lord give me Thy Holy Spu-it, that my heart may be always soft.' Now I shall mention one more thing of Josiah, that is, how much he loved the Bible, for, as soon as he found it, he read it again and again, and seemed to love it exceedingly. It is remarkable that many of those we read of, who were afterwards great men, loved the Bible when they were boys. Edward VI. of England was our Josiah. He loved the Bible, for when he saw a person once standing on the Bible he reproved him, and put it on a shelf and said, 'Respect the Bible'. We should respect the book. Some boys do not care about their Bibles. It is very sad when they get them dirty and dog- eared, it displeases God. Respect even the book, even the leaves, even the binding. Take care of your Bibles. A poor prisoner, kept close in a deep, dark piison, was allowed once in twenty -four houi-s, for a quarter of an hour, a light, when the turnkey brought his dinner. And did he eat his dinner ? No ; he said, ' I can eat my dinner in the dark — I can find my way to my mouth — I will read my Bible'. A little boy was once travelling in a railway carriage; his mother and a gentleman were in the cariiage The gentleman asked the little boy to sit on his knee, and showed him his watch and talked to him very kindly. The little boy became quite fond of the gentleman. Pi'esently the gentleman took up the newspaper and began to read ; and then he talked about politics; and, I am sorry to say, he talked against good things — he talked very foolishly ; and the little boy slipped off his knee and went across to his mother, who was on the other side of the carriage. The gentleman was much surprised to see him go and called him back. He did not like his going, and he said, ' My little fellow, why did you leave me ? Did you quarrel with me ? ' His mother said, ' Tell the gentleman why it is you have left him '. He said, ' Sir, I do not like to sit in the seat of the scornful '. His mother was afraid that the gentleman would get into a great passion — he did colour very much — but he was not very angry ; he said to the little boy, ' Do you call me a scorner ? ' ' Yes, sir ; you scorn and you swear.' The gentleman said, ' Well, my boy, if you will come on my knee, I will neither scorn any more nor swear any more. Come and ex- plain to me why you said that.' The boy answered, ' My mamma always reads the Bible to me ; this morning she read the first Psalm, where it says, " Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinnei's, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful." ' So you see this little boy loved his Bible and applied it to daily life. These are three things we find in Josiah from the time he was eight to the time he was eighteen years of age; he kept a straight, even course (that is to say, he was an honest boy, he acted out the love of God, and he lived for an object); he had a soft, tender heart; and he loved his Bible dearly. Do you do the same? That is a basis for life. If you build upon that basis you will build on something that will never totter do«n — you will build up a happy life, and you will build up a glorious eternity. — James Vaughan. 205 EZRA A PIN ' Give us a pio.'— Ezra ix. 8. The word pin only occurs in the Bible about three times, and in each reference it appears to indicate a means of fa-stening. Of course the pin mentioned in the Bible would not be quite the same kind of article as a common pin of to-day. It would be difficult to mention a more simple or ready means of fastening than a slim, shiny, sharp-pointed pin. As I look upon the pin before me, it makes a pointed appeal. I. A Pin is Bright. — Bright as a new pin is an old expression. When a child is clever it is often spoken of as being bright. It is recorded of the child Jesus that He grew in wisdom. He is a bright example. Bright girls and boys are wanted to-day. II. A I*in is Sharp. — Boys and girls be sharp, there are plenty of slow folks in the world. Take as your motto : 'Diligent in business serving the Lord '. III. A Pin is Straight. — A crooked pin is of but little use. Boys and girls, would you learn the secret of being straight? then listen to the words of the wise man in Proverbs m : ' In all thy ways acknow- ledge Him and He shall direct thy paths '. IV. A Pin has a Head. — Sometimes people say of some one who has made a success of life, that he has a good head, and that the bump of caution is well developed — he never went too far. The pin's head seems to say, ' I stop here '. V. A Pin has a Point. — Make a point every day of learning something that will help you to fix your mind on things above. ' Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth ' (Eccles. xii. 1). Give every flying minute Something to keep in store. — A. G. Welleb, Sunday Gleams, p. 40. 206 NEHEMIAH CHOOSING FOR ETERNITY ' Then the king said unto me, For what dost thou make request? So I prayed to the God of heaven.' — Nehemiah II. 4. There is one thing which we all have to do very often, and that is, to make a choice — to choose some- thing. It is a very important thing how we choose. Will you look at Isaiah vii. 15. I wish you to attend to this verse very carefully. It is a very important verse. It is about the Lord Jesus Christ. ' Butter and honey shall He eat, that He may know to refuse the evil, and choose the good.' Jesus Christ was once a little baby. When He was a very little baby He could not choose. No little baby can choose. And then Jesus Christ ate little babies' food. That was 'a land flowing with milk and honey'. Butter is made from milk. So babies' food in that country was 'butter and honey'. Jesus Christ ate ' butter and honey ' when He was a little baby ; and He did so that He might become strong, and grow up to boyhood ; and when He was a boy then He began to choose. And Jesus Christ did what nobody else ever did in the world, He always ' chose the good and refused the evil '. You and I have not always done so. Sometimes we 'choose evil,' and sometimes we 'choose good'. But Jesus Christ always ' chose the good and refused the evil '. So Jesus Christ made a wi.se choice. I do not know how soon boys and girls can be said altogether to choose for themselves. Very little children cannot choose. But certainly when they leave off' taking babies' food, then they can choose. We have all left off" babies' food, and therefore we can all choose, and we are to try to choose like Jesus Christ. That is one reason why it is so important to choose rightly, because we must try to be like Jesus Christ in everything ; and if we do not choose rightly, we shall not be like Him. Now you know you have a great many things to choose about. Let us name a few. (Some things your father and mother choose for you ; some things God chooses for you ; and some things you have to choose for yourselves.) For instance, when you are called in the morning you can choose whether you will get up in a minute or remain in bed ; and when dressing, you can choose whether you will dress very neatly or not, whether you will wash yourselves nicely or not ; and when you kneel down to say your prayers, you can choose whether you will think about what you are saying or not ; and when you go downstairs you can choose whether you will think all day about pleasant or unpleasant things; you can choose selfish pleasures or unselfish pleasures — i.e. whether you like pleasures all to yourselves, or whether you like other people to share them with you ; you can choose about your money, whether you will spend it wisely or foolishly ; and then you can choose whom you will make your friends; whether they shall be people that will do you good, or whether you will make silly friendships ; then you can choose what you will be when you grow up to be men and women — and that will be a very important choice ; but I shall say more of that presently. God gives us every day, and all day long, some- thing to choose about ; and the reason is because He wants to try us, to see whether we do right ; to exercise our minds, and see whether we act according to the Bible. Therefore all day long we are put to this trial, as to how we choose, and what we choose. Now, as it is so important that we choose well, because we have to choose so often, shall I give you a few rules fii-st about choosing ? If you will attend to me, I will give you one or two rules about how to choose. The first rule I am going to give you perhaps you will say is a very odd one, but I think it is a very good one — never choose at all if you can help it. Do you understand me ? If you can, let God choose for you, and do not choose for yourselves. We have read this afternoon about a man who would not choose and a man who would choo.se. Abraham was a wise old man, and Lot was a foolish young man. Abraham would not choose, and Lot liked to choose. I think if Lot had been wise he would have said to his uncle Abraham, ' Do not let me choose, you will choose best '. But Lot was foolish and liked to choose for himself; and he came into a great deal of trouble. He soon ' pitched his tent toward Sodom'. That is a very important verse — not ' in Sodom,' but ' toward Sodom '. In the first chapter of the Epistle to the Philippians St. Paul says he does not know how to choose. ' What I shall choose, I wot not' He did not know whether to choose life or death — therefore he left it to God to choose for him. I have known several of the Lord's children who, when upon their sick-beds, I have asked, 'Do you wish to die or live?' have wisely said, ' I do not wish to choose ; I wish God to choose for me. I do not know which is best.' Will you look at Psalm xlvii. 4, ' He shall choose our inheritance for us '. David would not choose it for himself. That was very wise in him. And I dare say you can think of another time when David did the same thing. Because he had done very wrong 207 Ver. 4. NEHEMIAH II Ver . 4. God said to him, ' Which will you have — famine, or jiL'stilL'iiee, or war?' David would not choose at all ; he did not say, ' I will have pestilence ' ; 'I will have war'; 'I will have famine'; but he said, 'Let me fall into the hand of God, and not into the hand of man '. Famine and pestilence would both be falling into the hand of God, and war into the hand of man ; but he did not choose, he only said, 'Let God choose for me '. That was very wise. A ji:reat man, Fenelon, was tutor to the Dauphin, the heir to the throne of France. But, while young, the prince died, and it was very bad for Fenelon, because if he had lived to come to the throne he would have been such a friend to him ; there is no knowing what he would have done for him. It was remarked to Fenelon, 'Are not you sorry that the prince is dead ? ' He replied, ' I am not to choose ' ; and, pointing to a little straw, he said, 'If I, by moving that straw, could alter what God does, I would not move that straw '. He knew God would choose best for him. Therefore my first rule is. Do not choose for your- selves at all, if you can help it — let God choose for you — because nine times out of ten when boys and girls, or men and women, choose for themselves, they choose badly. Now I am going to give you another rule. If you must choose, if it is your duty to choose, always, be- fore vou choose, lift up a little prayer to God to help you and guide you as to what you shall choose. I will show you two places wherein God has prom- ised to help you to choose rightly if you ask Him. The first is in Psalm xxv. 12, ' What man is he that feaveth the Lord ? him shall He teach in the way that he shall choose'. God promises to all that fear Ilim to show them what to choose. Now turn to Proverbs iii. 6, ' In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths '. Now this brings me to my text. Will you all turn to it ? You will see that Nehemiah was cup-bearer to the king, and a great king he was ; and he said to Nehemiah one day, ' What do you want ? What do you wish me to do ?' Suppose the Queen of England were to say to one of us, ' What shall I do for you ? ' what a huiTy some of you would be in ; you would say, ' Here is an opportunity that may not occur again. I know what I want, I will ask for it directly.' Now this would be very foolish ! We find Nehemiah paused a moment, and though he was present with the king, yet he looked up to the King of kings and breathed a little silent prayer ; we have these beauti- ful words recorded by him, 'So I prayed to the God of heaven '. He asked God to tell him what to choose. When you have to choose anything, then remember what Nehemiah did. When the king asked him what he wanted, he lifted up a little prayer to God that He wotdd not allow him to ask foolishly, but that He would enable him to make a wise choice. I wonder whether you all know what a sweet and blessed thing it is to pray little silent prayers in your own hearts when you are in ditficulty and perplexity ? We need not move our lips ; but only have a little thought of prayer in our hearts. Oh that every child in this church would begin with it! Whenever you want to know what to do, whenever you are tempted to do something naughty, whenever you want help, lift up a prayer, ' Lord, help me ! ' ' Lord, guide me I ' ' Lord, keep me ! ' This is what Nehemiah did. When I was at Oxford there was a very good man there who was a master of one of the colleges, I need not mention his name. He was giving advice to a young man who had come to Oxford as to what he should do ; and he said to him, ' put religion into every- thing. I will tell you how I mean. Mix up a little prayer with everything. Now, for instance, when you receive a letter by post, before you even venture to open it, always lift up a little prayer in your heart that you may be ready for what is in it ; if the letter is a sad letter, with bad news, that you may be able to bear it ; and if good news, that you may be thank- ful to God for it ; and if it is for you to do something, that you may be ready to do it. Always, before open- ing a letter, pray a little prayer to God that you may be ready for the contents of it.' This is putting religion into everything. This is what Nehemiah did. This is what I advise you to do as my second rule : Whenever you are called on to choose, oftier up a prayer to be able to choose rightly. Now I go on to the next rule — When going to choose always think of other people as well as of yourselves, and try to choose unselfishly. Oh that all of you may be like Jesus Christ — unselfish ! Do not choose to get the best for yourselves, but choose for other people. Look at one of the greatest choices ever made in the world — the greatest — Hebrews xl 24, 25, ' By faith Moses, when he was come to years, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter : choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season ; esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt : for he had respect unto the recompence of the reward '. Always, therefore, when you are choos- ing, think — ' How can I choose so as to make others happy and do others good ? ' Now I must tell you about a boy in order to ex- plain what I mean. It is quite true. It happened not many years ago in Switzerland. The boy's name was Alphonso, and he had a mother living, but he was not brought up by her but by a good huntsman, who brought him up very religiously and gave him a good education. When he was seventeen he had to choose what he would be; and, like many other boys, he thought he would be a soldier and enter the Swiss regiment then being formed for the service of the king of France. I do not know whether the Swi.ss are good soldiers, but they are particularly faithful. Many kings like to have Swiss soldiers to guard their persons, on ac- count of their faithfulness; the French particularly like to have them. Well, there was a Swiss regiment being formed, and 208 Ver. 4. NEHEMIAH II Ver. 4. Alphonso wanted to join it. But his uncle thought it would be a great temptation to him and that he would tliereby full into sin ; so he very strongly ad- vised him nolD to be a soldier. But Alphonso said, 'I must, I must'. His uncle begged him again and again, with teai-s, not to be a soldier; but his mind was set on it. I suppose he had seen their red coats and wanted to wear one — for they wear red coats like the English soldiers. At last Alphonso went. His uncle prayed God would turn his heart. All day and every evening he was praying to God. Alphonso went to his mother ami his mother asked him not to be a soldier ; but he said 'I am determined to be one'. His uncle prayed for him and his mother prayed for him ; for three days and nights they prayedjconstantly — when, one morning, Al|)hon.so knocked at his uncle's door - — he was much surprised to find he was come back. When he came in Alphonso said, ' I am sure, uncle, you have been praying about me, for just as I reached the place there seemed to come a voice to my heart which said, " Don't ! you must not do so ! " It seemed like a voice from God. I am come back to you and will not be a soldier, because I think God, in answer to your prayers, has determined I shall not.' So he lived a little longer with his uncle. When Alphonso was about eighteen he went to be a tutor at Amsterdam. At that time the Dutch were e(|uipping a fleet and it was offered to Alphonso to occupy a high position in one of the ships of war ; and again all his old feelings came into his mind and he longed to accept the offer ; but he thought of his uncle's prayers and of his duty and determined to give up going ; so he refused the ofl'er, though much tempted ; and he prayed to God that, as He had stopped him from being a soldier and a sailor. He would make some use of him and show him what He would have him to be. At that time the Dutch were interested in mis- sionary matter and meetings were held on the sub- ject, and Alphonso went and heard about the poor heathens and what was wanted, and the thought came into his heart, ' How I should like to be a mission- ary ! Then I should be a soldier of Jesus Christ and useful indeed ! ' He returned home and began to think about it ; but he felt so very unhappy on ac- count of his own un worthiness that for six months he was quite miserable, saying, ' I am not worthy to be a missionary '. At the end of the sixth month it pleased God to take away that feeling and to show him that, though weak, sinful, and unworthy in himself, yet God could make use of him if he were sincere. So he offered himself to the Missionary Society and they accepted him, and he became a missionaiy ; and he went out as such and laboured very hard among the heathen, and very usefully, and God was pleased to employ him instrumentally in the conversion of many souls, because he followed not his own inclination but listened to the voice of Him who stopped him from being a soldier and a sailor. May God give us all grace to choose that which shall make us useful to others ! Now I am going to give you another rule about choosing. I have given you three, and the fourth is this — VVhenever you are choosing, choose that which will give you trouble at first ! or, to put it into Bible language, I mean, choose the cross. You remember what our Blessed Saviour says about this in Matthew XVI. 2-1, ' If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me'. Choose what will give you trouble at first. Suppose a boy at school has a lesson to learn and has an opportunity for a nice game, let him always learn the lesson first and then play — for he will enjoy his play much more if he has done what is right first — this is choosing first that which will give you trouble. In life you will always find that those enjoyments which give no trouble are not worth having ; the greatest pleasures give some trouble at first. Therefore choose the cross — trouble first. Leigh Richmond was very fond of music, and when at Cambridge he had a piano, and he thought, ' Is it right for me to have this piano, on which I shall be playing morning, noon, and night ? ' So he thought it would be right to put it away, which he did. That was taking up the cross. It was against flesh and blood — contrary to nature. It is very difficult to get up early in the morning. Begin the day by conquering yourself Determine to take up the cross. Do the difficult thing at once. Oh, let me impress upon you when you make a choice, choo.se that which will give you trouble at first. Now I come to the most important of all. When- ever you choose, choose for your soul. Think of that. Choose for your soul. Choose for eternity. Can you think of any pei-son who chose for the soul ? I can tliink of somebody whom even Jesus Christ praised for making a good choice. Do you remember ? It is in Luke x. 41, 42, 'Jesus said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things : but one thing is needful : and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her '. What did Mary choose ? To be close to Jesus — to sit at His feet — to love Jesus. I think when Lot made his foolish choice, God says on purpose, just before, that Abraham 'set up his altar '. Therefore Lot went away from the altar ; he went away from Abraham's company, who was a pious man ; and this was his great folly. And when Ruth wished to go back to Canaan with her mother-in-law, I do not think it was only because she loved her ; but she thought, ' Here I am with idolaters ; in Canaan I shall be with Christian believere, the people of the God of Abraham '. She chose for her soul's sake. Choose for your souls. I will give you a safe rule in choosing. You are a little boy or girl now — by and by, if you live, you will get old — be an old man or an old woman — you will lie on a sick bed, on a death-bed ; now think, ' When I am lying on my dying bed, how shall I wish 209 14 Ver. 4. NEHEMIAH II., Ill Ver. 15. then that I had rightly chosen ! How will worldly pleasures look then?' That is the way to judge; how will things appear when you look back upon them? Everything is right according to the view they will present when we look back on them from the borders of eternity. There was Solomon, how wisely he chose, ' Give me an understanding heart '. You have heard of Matthew Henry, the good man who wrote a beautiful commentary on the Bible, per- haps the most beautiful that was ever written. His father was Philip Henry, and when he was a young man he married a Miss Matthews. I will tell you something about his marrying her. When Pliilip Henry went down to the country where Miss Matthews lived people said, ' He is an excellent man, but we don't know anything about him, or where he comes from. We don't know whether he is a rich or poor man, or what family he belongs to.' When he wanted to marry Miss Matthews her father said to her, ' I would advise you not to choose this man for your husband because you don't know where he comes from or anything about him.' Miss Matthews said, ' I do not know where he comes from, but I know where he is going to. I can see it by his prayers, his conversation, his love of the Bible, and his good life. I know where he is going to, and I should like to go with him, I should like to go all my pilgrimage with him, and be with him at last, where he will be for ever. Therefore I will choose him to be my husband.' And so she chose him, and they were married, and she was the mother of Matthew Henry. She chose for eternity, therefore she never regretted her choice. Her feeling was, ' He is going to heaven and I should like to go with him '. I am going to set before you a beautiful example — I don't know that I could choose out of the whole world a more beautiful example than the one I am going to name to you — an example of a man who early chose the better part — it is that of the late Rev. George Wagner. I well remember the time when he was a boy ; and I can remember the place and the time when, as a boy, he first gave his heart to God and made a good choice. He was at Eton ; and the master of Eton told his uncle (the vicar of this parish) that of all the boys there (and there were six or seven hundred) there was none equal to George Wagner. He was the best boy at Eton— be- cause he had made the right choice and was acting from principle. He went from thence to Trinity College, Cambridge, and the same testimony was bome there ; it was said not a single boy led so spot- less a life before man (as man judges) as Mr. George Wagner. And as he chose God when he was a boy so, I con- sider, God blessed him as much, I may almost sav more, than any man itlias been my privilege to know. He blessed him by giving him so much of the mind and the likeness of Jesus Christ. He was a man eminently useful — always unselfish — always thinking of his Master's work ; always endeavouring to do good works ; and he was a man liberal with his money to the greatest extent. Many are the good works in Brighton that are indebted entirely under God to the Rev. George Wagner. He was a man (some of you knew him ; and to know him was to love him) — he was a man full of love, and no one ever went out of his presence with- out feeling it. He was so simple — -beautifully so. He was a man always doing good works and then stepping back that he might not be seen. Very few people in Brighton know what good works he did — because he never allowed himself to be seen. He was a man doing a work of prayer and love, bearing with him a beautiful bloom of humility and sweetness. I believe his Christ-like humility was the secret of his usefulness. I say, ' Choose the Lord Jesus Christ '. Am I right ? No, for after all it is not we who choose Christ — it is Christ who chooses us. We do choose Him ; but when we see all the secrets revealed in heaven, we shall see that it is, as our blessed Lord saith (John xv. 16), ' Ye have not chosen Me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that ye should go and bring forth fruit'. — James Vaughan. KING'S GARDENS 'The king's garden.' — Nehemiah hi. 15. I WANT to take you to see some gardens. Let us turn into the first garden that was ever made ; the most wonderful and the most beautiful that the world has ever seen. God caused to grow out of it every tree the fruit of which was most delicious, and every flower that was pleasant to look at ; there were fine rivers flowing through it, now rippling along as pleasant little brooks by the rocks and the nodding ferns, or leaping down in foaming water-falls ; then spreading out into glassy pools with flowers fringing the banks and trees bending down their leafy branches till they almost touched their own reflections. All kinds of fowl were swimming and flying there, that had never learned to be afraid ; and on the banks were all kinds of wonderful creatures. This was the home of the first man, Adam. Here he lived with Eve his wife ; here, amidst the sweet breath of flowers and with the golden fruits, where it was 'an everlasting spring,' and all was young and light and glad, and always beautiful. I think you could guess why it was so beautiful ; because God made it, and because there was no sin in it, but God's blessing came on it like a constant sunshine and a gentle dew. You remember that when sin was brought in it was all spoiled ; and the man was driven out to eat the herb of the field, and thorns and thistles grew instead of flowers. There is another garden that I would take you to see. We must come to it on a moonlight night, when dark shadows are all about the trees and the silver light comes falling in here and there about the huge old trunks and twisted arms. Let us come sottly and solemnly, for Jesus is here. He is pray- 910 Ver. 15. NEHEMIAH III Ver. 15. ing ; and as He prays the soitows that He bears for us bow Him down in bitter anguish, and in His grief and agony He sweats as it were great drops of blood. He sinks down under the curse of the world's sin. And so, as the first sin was in the garden of Eden, the burden and curse of our sin were borne by Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. There is yet another garden that we read of in the Bible, even more beautiful than Eden, more holy than Gethsemane. It is the garden of which St. John writes. A garden like Eden, for there is a pure river of the water of life, and in the midst of it and on either side of the river is the tree of life. And there the fruits last all the year round, twelve manner of fruits, and fruits every month. And like Gethsemane, Jesus shall be there, but not in agony or grief. ' The Lamb, which is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, and shall feed them unto living fountains of waters.' And unlike Eden and Gethsemane, you and I may enter that garden, for Jesus says, ' to him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God '. But there is another garden of which the Bible tells us a great deal more than of these. A garden that I want us to think about as the King's garden — a garden with which we all of us have to do. Very often when I am going through a garden I come to some little bit marked off from the rest by a stick or a row of stones, and some lad or some little maiden comes running up ; ' This is my garden,' they say, ' my very own, to do whatever I like with '. Now each of us has a garden, our very own, and yet it ought to be and must be the King's garden. You know what I mean— it is the garden of the soul, the garden of the heart. I. I should like you to remember that Gardens are made out of Waste Places. — You have been in a forest and you know how the brambles cover it and the great trees grow in it, and there are the thick ferns ; and here in the pits are beds of nettles, and in the damp places and round the edges of the pools the rushes grow. It is all wild and waste. I don't say that there is nothing good in it, or beautiful — ■ there are primroses, and violets, and wild fruits. But there is no garden ; not much else but brambles, and weeds, and great ti'ees. Now, evei'y garden was like that at first ; it was wild, and tangled, and bramble- grown. And so it is with the King's garden. We want our heart to be nice and kind, and like a king's garden ought to be ; and we look at the brambles and the waste places, and fear sometimes that it never can be made into a garden. 'I never shall be good,' you say. ' I never shall be like so and so.' You think of your mother, or of some good man or woman, and then you look at yourself and think that it is no use for you to try. When I was a little boy I learnt driwing, and one day when I had tried again and again, and couldn't do it right, I flung down the pencil and said angrily, 'I never shall be able to draw '. The master was a very kind and a very wise man. He laughed pleasantly, and said, ' Come, neverf 21 is a long time. I couldn't draw any better than you can when I was your age.' That put new life into me. He who could draw anything with his pencil, and could make it exactly right with just a touch, to think that once he could not draw any better than I could ! I went at it again then and never felt in- clined to give up afterwards. And so with the best people that ever lived. St. John, and St. Paul, and all the good people you have ever heard of, their hearts were wild and waste before they became the King's gardens. So we won't be giving up because we are not what we want to be. The King's garden was a waste at first. II. Now perhaps the next thing you think of is that it must be cleared. Jesus says to us, ' My son, give Me thine heart '. He will never force it away from us. But if we give it to Him, He will take it just as it is, all waste and worthless, without any fruit and without any flowere, with nothing but brambles and weeds. He wants the heart, not because it is a garden, but that He may make a King's garden of it ; filled with fruitful trees and pleasant flowers and sweetness and beauty, and that He may come in the garden and talk with us, as He came to Eden and talked with Adam there. So kneel and say to the Lord, ' Here is my heart, Lord Jesus ; Thou dost ask for it ; wild and waste as it is, I give it Thee. Make it into a King's garden where Thou shalt come.' III. The next thing is that it be Cleared and Planted. — Of course the King's garden must have no weeds, or nettles, or brambles, or waste places in it. Weeds must be cleared up and burnt, and the waste places must be turned into flower-beds. There will be roses, and pinks, and lilies ; there will be the mignonette with its sweet breath, and the pleasant borders of coloured leaves all laid out in beautiful order. There will be shrubs and there will be fruit- trees trimmed and trained, now white with blossom, now heavy with delicious fruit. Love, like a sweet breath, shall fill it. Jov shall be in it, like the singing of birds. Peace shall grow there, and fill it with gentleness and quiet. Patience shall be there, with its sweet, meek-eyed flowers ; and Gentleness, like a lily of the valley ; and sturdy Goodness shall grow there, like a tree planted by a river ; and Faith shall be round it like a strong wall ; and Temperance — well, let that be a bright fountain in the middle of the garden. And wherever these are, there is the King's garden. So you see we have to give Jesus the garden of the heart, and we have to ask Him to create it clean and new. IV. Then we have to Keep this Garden for the King. — Though it be a new heart and a clean heart it will want taking care of. If you will look at the story of Eden you will find that though the Lord caused the earth to bring forth the trees and flov/ers that were all ' very good,' yet He put the man into the garden to dress it and keep it. And we have to keep our hearts for the King. First we must plant it well, and keep getting better flowers and more ruit. There is a storehouse of seed where all the Ver. 15. NEHEMIAH III., V Ver. 3. King's gardeners have got theirs, and we can go and help ourselves — the seed is the Word of God. Then we must water it at least twice a day, and prayer is the watering;' it refreshes and revives the King's garden, it keeps it alive. If we don't pray the garden will soon be dead and withered. V. Then, in the last place, if it be tlie King's Garden the King Himself will Come to it. — Jesus Himself comes into the heart that is given to Him and kept for Him. He delights to come into it and walk and talk with His child there. And I will tell you why He delights so much to come. There was once a great king called Cyrus, who had a beautiful garden of which he was very fond. He used to watch it very much, and take such pleasure in it that people could hai'dly understand it. He said, ' I take so much interest in my garden because I have planted every plant and have sown every seed in it'. So it is that Jesus loves His garden. He turned it from a waste into a garden ; He has sown the good seed and planted the trees ; it is His garden. — Mark Guy Peaese, Sermons for Children, p. 24. THE KING'S GARDEN ' The king's garden.' — Nehemiah hi. 15. The three greatest scenes in the history of our human race are connected with gardens. There is the garden of Eden, where man fell fi-om the high and holy state of purity in which God had made him. There is the garden of Gethsemane, where the Saviour in His agony gave Himself up to the pain and death of the cross to save man from sin. There is, in the great vision of St. John, a garden — even the Paiadise of God — in the midst of which is the Tree of Life, of which ' he that overcometh ' may eat. So that man fallen, man redeemed, man glorified — these three great points in the history of man are connected with gardens. We cannot go fai- wrong, then, if we take an image which is so consecrated by the spirit of God, which is so associated with what is great in the past and full of hope for the future, and see what lessons it may teach us. And if we select a garden for our study, let it be a good one ; so I have chosen the king's garden. The king's garden would no doubt be the best kept, the most complete in all its arrangements. The first thing which a garden suggests to our thoughts is how great a difference there is between the same thing when cared for and uncared for. When you look at the garden which is close to your house, and then lift your eyes and look across it at the land beyond — all wild and rough, with no smooth grass and no trim flower-beds — you sometimes forget that the land is the same in both. The garden would be exactly like that park beyond, and that park would be exactly like that still wilder range of country lying farther distant, if they had been left alone. The same ground which bears the thistle and the brier and the deadly nightshade will, if ploughed and cultivated and planted, bring forth the fairest flowers and the richest fruits. You know how the wild nature remains, even after all the care and culture of years. Let the gardener go away for a while and leave the garden to itself, and in even a few months what a change ! Every soul here is a garden of the King. It will bring forth something — fruits and flowers or thorns and briers. It needs daily care and daily watching. The first little atom of untruth, the first little bit of selfishness, the first little deed of disobedience, the first little thought of impurity — ask God to give you the courage, in the strength of our Blessed Saviour, to pull them out, not to wait for them to grow bigger. Every day will make it more difHcult ; every day will cause it to leave a wider scar behind when it is plucked up, for the roots spread wonderfully fast. I will tell you what will help you to do this more than anything else — Remember how the King loves His garden. He has watered it with the blood of His own dear Son. Think of that. Think of it when you are going to do wi-ong ; think of it when you are ceasing to do right. The Son of Grod, Who loved me and gave Him- self for me, sees me now. He is hurt and grieved if I yield to the sin; He is rejoiced and glad when I resist it. I remember Mr. Kinglake, in his History of the Crimean War, mentions that as the English troops marched, with beating drums and flying coloui-s, to- wards the river Aima, where they were destined first to meet the enemy, they passed across wide patches of ground covered with the thick growth of a peculiar herb, which, as battalion after battalion tramped over it, gave forth a strange odour, and soon the whole air was laden with its fragrance. It attracted little at- tention until there came up some regiments which had been recruited in the western counties, and then a strange look passed over some faces, and here and there even an eye grew moist with tender memories, for they recognised the perfume which had often filled the village church at home when lads had brought bunches of the same southernwood — or ' boy's love,' as they used to call it — with them on a Sunday morn- ing, and laid them beside some loved one's book of prayer ; and some went on with braver hearts and nobler courage to the fight that day for queen and country, stin-ed by the tender memories of those days gone by. I trust it may be so with some of you. There may come back to some of you, perhaps, in distant years, when he who taught you and the dear ones who wor- shipped with you are gone for ever, the fragrant memories of these Sundays here. And the sweet re- collection of their love, of your own young fresh re- solves and prayere, and hopes, on these happy Sundays may stir your hearts to a loftier courage and to a braver faith, as beneath the banner of the Cross of Christ you pass on into the Battle of Life. — T. Teign- MOOTH Shore, St. George for England, p. 11. NEHEMIAH, THE MODEL MAN OF BUSINESS ' I am doing a g^eat work, so that I cannot come down.' — Nehemiah v. 3. I. Nehemiah was a Model of ' Earnestness '. — We see this in him when he used the words of oui- 212 Ver. 3. NEHEMIAH V Ver. 3. test and said : ' I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down'. He was very busy then in building up the walls of Jerusalem. The enemies of the Jews wanted very much to hinder that work. They threatened to at- tack Nehemiah and the Jews while they were at work. But it was impossible to frighten them in this way. Then they tried to get Nehemiah to come and meet them, pretending that they wanted to talk over matters with him. But he knew that if they could only get him in their power they would be apt to kill him. So his answer to them was, ' I am doing a great work, and I cannot come down'. So he went on with his work bravely and perseveringly, till it was done. He laboured on for twelve years for the good of Jerusalem, till he had finished the work which he went there to do. And here we see how earnest Nehemiah was as a business man. And we must be earnest too if we wish to be good boys and girls, or men and women of business. How Cliarley built the church. — A minister had an appointment to preach in the country. On getting out of the cars at the station, according to the direction given him, he told the driver to take him to ' Ebenezer Chapel '. ' Ebenezer ? ' said the driver ; ' oh, you mean little Charley's chapel, don't you ? ' ' No,' said the minister, ' I mean Ebenezer.' ' Yes, but we about here always call it "Little Charley's Chapel ".' ' And why do you call it so ? ' asked the minister. ' Because little Charley laid the foundation- stone. You see, sir,' continued the driver, ' it hap- pened in this way. A few years ago we wanted anew chapel. A meeting was called to talk the matter over. A good deal was said at that meeting about how the money could be raised. But the times were hard ; and the people were poor ; and labour and materials were very dear. So they resolved that the chapel could not be built ; and then the meeting broke up. ' But a day or two after the meeting a little boy about nine years old came to the minister's door and rang the bell. The minister himself opened the door and found the little fellow there. His face was all flushed and the perspiration thick on his forehead. In front of him was his little toy wheelbarrow, and in the barrow were six new bricks. He had wheeled his load up a long, steep hill, and was out of breath, so that he could hardly speak. " Well, Charley," asked the wondering minister, "and what is the meaning of this ? " " Oh, please, sir," said Charley, " I heard you wanted a new chapel and were about giving it up ; so I begged these few bricks from the men who are building a house down in the village and thought they would do to begin with." ' With tears in his eyes the minister thanked Charley for what he had done. Then he called another meeting of the people about the chapel. Charley's bricks were piled up on the table in front of the minister. He told the story of what Charley had done. Then he made a little speech to them about it. He said, '' If they were all as earnest in the business of building the chapel as that little boy was the work would soon be done ". This had a great effect on them. They resolved that the chapel should be built, but Charley laid the first stone. It is a big chapel. It will hold a thousand people and cost more than ten thousand dollars, and now it is out of debt.' ' And what has become of little Charley ? ' asked the minister. Here the old man's voice choked as he said : ' If you'll let me pull up at the churchyard, sir, I'll show you Charley's grave. There are many graves there, but you may always tell Charley's by the bright flowers upon it. He was the pet of the Sunday school, and the children never let a day go by without putting fresh flowers on his grave. He used to live close by the school, and he died the very day on which the last dollar of the chapel debt was paid. It was a summer's day, and he made them set his window open, that he might hear them sing. He asked them to sing a bright, happy tune, which was a favourite of his ; and he died as he was trying to join them in singing it from his little bed. ' He sang the first verse of the hymn on earth ; but we all believe that he finished it in heaven.' Now certainly Charley was earnest in the business of building that chapel. II. As a Business Man, Nehemiah was a Model of ' Unselfishness '.—He gave up his office under the king of Persia and the salary he was receiving there that he might go to Jerusalem to help his poor countrymen. Now if he had been a selfish man he would have said, ' I am very sorry that Jerasalem is in ruins and that my countrymen there are in so much trouble. I should like vei-y much to help them. But if I go there I shall have to give up my salary, and I can't afford to do that.' But Nehemiah did not care about his salary He was quite willing to let that go if he could only help to build up the walls of Jerusalem and be a comfort to the poor Jews there. And this shows us what an unselfish man he was ! And then, during the twelve years that he remained at Jerusalem as governor of the city, he was entitled to receive a salary every year. But this could only have been made up to him by the people of that city. And they were so poor that it would have been very hard for them to do it. So he refused to take any salary. And he stayed there through all those yeai-s at his own expense, working hard all the time to build up the city, and to do good to the people who lived there. And here we see that he was indeed a mode' business man because of his unselfishness. And this is a good model for us to imitate. Our first story may be called — The unselfish brother, — A boy whose name was Jean Sedaine, lost his father when he was thirteen years of age. They were living in France, about fifty miles from the city of Paris. He was lelt with a little brother about five years old. His brother's name was Pierre. Thev had a mother living in Paris ; and after his father's death Jean's first desire was to get to Paris with his little brother, and try to find 213 Ver. 3. NEHEMIAH V Ver. 3. their mothei". This happened before the days of rail- roads. People used to travel then in large stages. In France these were called diligences. Jean went to the office of the diligence and asked what the fare was to Paris. They told him how much it cost. Then he found that he only had money enough to pay for one seat. So he took all the money he had to pay for his little brother; and he made up his mind that he would follow on foot as fast as he could. It was winter time when this took place. Jean overtook the diligence the first time it stopped at an inn to change horses. As soon as he came up to it he found his little brother crying from the cold. He had no shawl nor anything to keep the poor fellow warm. So he nobly took off his own coat and wrapped it round his brother, willing to walk in his shirt sleeves if only the little fellow could be made comfortable. This touched the hearts of the other passengers and brought tears to their eyes. They took up a collection among themselves and soon had money enough to pay for Jean's passage. They gave him a seat by the side of his brother. This made them both feel very happy. The dying girl's penny. — A little girl attended a missionary meeting and sat upon her father's knee. While listening with deep attention to the missionary telling about the miseries and cruelties the poor heathen had to suffer, her father saw the tears trick- ling down her cheeks. When they reached home she said : ' Father, can't I do something to help to send the Gospel to the heathen ? ' ' What can you do, my child ? ' said her father. ' You are but a little girl, and you have no money to give.' ' Mother gives me a penny a week,' said the child ; ' couldn't I give that ? ' ' Yes, you can,' said her father, ' and I'll buy you a little box to put it in.' The next day her father bought her a little earthenware box with a hole in the top of it, and every week the dear child dropped her penny into it. Not many weeks after this the little girl was taken ill, and died. Soon after her funeral, her father took the box to the minister. He placed it in his hands, and said : ' This box belonged to my dear daughter who was buried the other day. It contains what she was saving for the missionaries.' Then he told him about the missionary meeting, and what she said on coming home from that meeting, and added : — ' I hadn't the heart to break it myself, so I have brought it to you ; if you will break it, you will find seventeen pennies in it.' The minister broke the box, but on counting over the pennies he found that there were eighteen in- stead of seventeen. The father was surprised, and couldn't understand where the other penny came from. He asked the minister if it was not just seventeen weeks since that missionary meeting was held. The minister thought it over a little while, and then said: 'Yes, it is just seventeen weeks'. And there they had to leave it. But when the father reached home he told his wife about it, and asked her if she knew where the other penny came from ? ' Oh, yes,' she said, ' I can tell you all about it. The day before our dear child died, a kind neighbour called in to see her. Observing how feverish and parched her lips were, she said on leaving, " Here, my child, is a penny to buy an orange to moisten your lips with ". When the neighbour was gone, our dear little one called me to her bedside, and said, "Mother, 'tis true I am very thirsty, and the orange would be real nice ; but I would rather you would fetch my missionary-box, that I may drop the penny in there ". I carried her the box, and it was the last thing she did before she died. With a trembling hand, and a smile on her pale cheek, she dropped the money in, saying as she did so, " The heathen need the gospel more than I need an orange ". And that penny made up the eighteen found in her box.' How beautiful that was ! That little girl was imitating this point of Nehemiah's model. In the important business of helping on the missionary work she was — unselfish. III. As a Business Man, Nehemiah was a Model of ' Faithfulness '. — The business he undertook to do at Jerusalem was very trying and troublesome. But before starting in it, he made up his mind to be faith- ful, and go steadily on with it, whatever might happen. A long succession of difficulties met him in attending to that business. His enemies began their effi3rts to hinder him by making sport of what the Jews were doing. They said if even a fox should tread upon the wall the Jews were building, it would tumble down. Yet Nehemiah did not care for their ridicule, but went steadily on with his work. Then his enemies ti'ied to frighten him. They threatened to attack him and his friends while they were working on the wall. But Nehemiah girded his sword by his side, and told his friends to do the same. They went to work in this way, and their enemies were afraid to attack them. Then the enemies of Nehemiah laid all sorts of snares and traps to hinder him in his work ; but he turned away from them, and went steadily on with what he was doing. Then they wrote to the king, his master, and charged Nehemiah with rebellion against his authority. This made it necessary for him to go all the way back to Shushan, in order to explain matters to the king, and to prove to him that there was no truth in what his enemies had written about him. But even this did not dis- courage him. He made it all right with the king ; and then returned to Jerusalem, and went bravely on with his work there. As a man of business, he was a grand model of faithfulness. And we must learn to be ftxithful too, in all we undertake, if we hope to be useful and successful in our work. IV. When we look at Nehemiah as a Business Man, we find him a Model of ' Prayer '. — In the opening chapter of the book which is called by his name, and which contains the history of his great work, we learn that when he heard of the sad state of things among his countrymen at Jerusalem, the very 214 \^er. 15. NEHEMIAH V Ver, 15. first thing he did was to engage in prayer to God. We can turn to the first chapter of iNeheiniah and read this prayer. I'here we see how he began by asking God to make the king willing to let him go to Jerusalem, and build up its walls. That prayer was answered, and the way was opened for him to go. And then, as he met with one difficulty after another in carrying on hU work at Jerusalem, we find him continu- ally praying to God to remember him, and to help him. VVe have a beautiful prayer of Nehemiah's in the ninth chapter of his book. This occupies almost the entire chapter, which is cjuite a long one. In reading this prayer we can judge of the way in which he used to pray for himself and for his friends who were helping in his work. In the last chapter of his book we find four short pr.ayers. This shows us how he was in the habit of connecting jirayer to God with all the work in which he was engaged. The very last sentence in the book of Nehemiah is the prayer, ' Remember me, O my God, for good '. And there is no one point in the model of the business man which Nehemiah has left us that is more important than this. He was a model of prayer in everything that he did. If we hope to be success- ful in any work tliat we undertake, nothing is more important than to mingle prayer with it, as Nehemiah did. Let us be sure to imitate this point of the model he has left us. No limits can be put to the help we may get in answer to prayer. — Richard Newton, Bibie Models, p. 224. AGAINST THE STREAM ' So did not I, because of the fear of the Lord.' — Nehemiah v. 15 Wouldn't it make a long list if we were to put down all the things we didn't do ! What are history books made up of ? Isn't it about what people did ? These take up a good deal of space, and take some time to read, too ; but if we were only told what people didn't do, the oldest man wouldn't have got through the books, though he began to read when he was a little child. No I not about even what one boy or one gu'l didn't do ! So there is a chance for some of you, when you grow up and want to become authors and write books. Write about what people haven't done, and you will never be out of employment. And sometimes you will have to -praise them for what they haven't done, and sometimes you will have to blame them. It all depends. If they haven't done what they shouldn't have done, then that is good ; but if they haven't done what they should have done, then it is bad. Everything turns on this. Try to learn how to keep right about both these things. How many words do you suppose there are in the big English dictionaries? Thirty-eight thou- sand ! What a lot ! To know them all would be like knowing all the leaves in a che.stnut-tree in spring- time. Yet, what do you think they all grow from ? From two tiny little words which every baby soon learns to say, ' Yes ' and ' No.' These are the seeds ; all the rest are the branches, the leaves, the flowei-s. and the fruits. For as soon as anybody says ' Yes' or ' No,' then somebody else wants to know Why ? or How ? — and so more words have to be found to explain it all. You must respect, then, and very much respect, these two. There is a time to say ' Yes,' and say it firmly, and there is a time to say ' No,' and say it as if you meant it. The way to know the proper time and the proper word to speak is — Remember the Lord. What would He wish ? What would He do .? What would He have you to do ? Once you go by this simple rule — a rule that never fails — you will not have any difficulty in knowing the things you shouldn't do, or the things you should. There is one time specially when you must siay ' No,' and say it promptly, decidedly, and firmly. ' When sinners entice thee, consent thou not.' Say ' No ! ' — and say it in capital letters, as it were. They can't compel you ; nobody can compel you to sin. All they can do is to entice you. You know what that means ; it is coaxing, promising, tempting. The nice bait that is put on the hook is in order to entice the fish, the crumbs that are thrown on the ground near to the trap are in order to entice the bird, and the fine promises and the glittering words sinnei-s use are all to entice you. But the bait is use- less and the crumbs can do nothing till the fish or the bird consents, and no more can other people lead you into sin till you are willing to be led. Everything depends on yourself. There is one favourite bait you must be very watch- ful over. It is when they whisper to you, ' What does it matter ? It must be right, for everybody does it. ' Take care of that. If a thing is right, it is right because it is right, and not because a thousand people do it ; and if it is wrong, it is wrong, though it were done by everybody in the world. When any one speaks to you, then, in this way, lift up your heart. Think about God — and then think about yourself. If it is wrong, don't do it, no matter how many may. Dare to be a Daniel : when everybody else bowed down to the image, he would not — he remembered God, and God remembered him for good. Dare to be a Joseph : when he could have sinned and got riches by it, he would not, and God made it all up to him over and over again. Dare to be like Jesus : when the tempter offered Him all the kingdoms of the world and all the glory of them if He would only fall down and worship him, Jesus would not. He dared to say No ! though all the world said Yes ! Take your orders morning bv morning and day by day from Jesus, and whenever you are in any doubt or difficulty, or can't quite see your way, refer the matter to the Lord, and He will give you the light you need. Be true to that light ; it is sent for you, whatever light may be sent for others. ' The fear of the Lord ' — keep that uppermost in your heart, and be guided by it, and you will have the blessing of blessings — the blessing of a good conscience — as you say, 'This did I,' or 'This did not I, because of the fear of the Lord' — J. Reid How ATT, The Children's Preacher, p. 57. 215 ESTHER OF THE MYRTLE THAT BECAME A STAR ' Hadassah, that is Esther.' — Esther ii. 7. As Esther is the pei-son that stands, as it were, in the middle all through this book, I have taken her two names to gather round them some lessons, taught by the story of her life as we get it here. Now, let us look at her as being — I. An orphan. II. A captive. III. A beautiful maid. IV. A queen. Let us speak of — I. Hadassah the Orphan. — She had neither father nor mother. And she must have lost them at an early age, for Mordecai brought her up. Perhaps she could not recollect them. Her mother, it may be, died when she was born. There are two children that we read of in the Old Testament who never could know their mothers. And perhaps Esther never saw her father. One of the two boys I mean never saw his. But it may be, on the other hand, that the little girl had sweet recollections of both father and mother. Perhaps she remembered her mother taking her when a very little child in her lap, and telling her old stories out of the Bible, — how the babe Moses was found in the basket by the river's Drink, or how God called to Samuel when he was lying on his bed ; or how the little captive maid told her mistress of the prophet that could cure her master's leprosy. Perhaps she remembered her father praying with his face looking towards Jerusalem, or calling her to his side and teaching her the twenty- third psalm in Hebrew. But she had nothing more than recollections, for both father and mother died, and Hadassah could only think of them or dream of them as away to the spirit-land. Remember Esther. She was provided for. Her cousin Mordecai took her for his own daughter. He found a little tree, growing without shelter from tiie storms, and he planted it bv his own hearth. Hadassah means a myrtle ; and I am sure, from what Esther was afterwards, that he had rewai'd enough in looking at the fair sweet plant he had brought into his house, long before the king took it into his palace. I am sure there never was evergreen shrub so beautiful an ornament of cottage garden, or window sill, or rich man's conservatory, as was the little orphan myrtle Mordecai took home to care for. Let us look now at— II. Hadassah the Captive. — I should rather call her captive-born. For as the captivity had lasted seventy years, and these things happened after the restoration, of course Esther could not be herself a captive. We may call her rather the exile. Mor- decai himself, if brought from Judah, must have been then a mere child. But though this was the case, Persia was not the land of Esther. She was a Jewess. Now, every one loves his native country, or should love it. Not, indeed, with a proud, senseless, boasting spirit, which leads to despise others, but tenderly and truly. We have a country very much worth loving. It is a beautiful country ; it has not such soft, sunny skies as more southern lands, but it has grand moun- tains, smiling valleys, fau* green fields. It lies, both stem and soft, rugged and garden-like, amid the seas. But, better than that, it is a free country. People can speak their mind, and worship God in it according to their conscience. It was not always so in Biitain itself, but it is so now. And there are a great many wise, good, holy men in it. Bibles are abundant in it. Every one of you may have a copy for himself. Have you seen the picture of reading the Bible in the crypt of Old St. Paul's ? See the book is chained to the desk ; it is too precious to be trusted with any one. What different days now ! Give God thanks for the country you live in. In some other countries they cannot read the Bible openly yet. Thpy can- not get it in the shops to buy. Mistaken and wicked men will not allow their fellow-creatures to hear what God says to them. Try to make your country vet better than it is. In this land thousands that might have the Bible either do not have it, or do not use it. Here's the way true love of your country should work — strive to make people in it worthier of God's goodness to it. If it be hard to leave our country willingly, it must be much harder to be torn from it to see it no more. That was the case with Esther's people. War had come and dragged them away from their fertile land, their beautiful Jerusalem, their magnificent Temple. Oh, the sad talks they had with each other about it ! Oh, the sad wail they used to raise when they re- membered Zion. ' By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept.' So one of them speaks about their grief. But God had bid them, when taken captive, to seek the good of the land where they dwelt. If you ever go abroad, or without going abroad, are so separated from your father's house, that you feel very lonely, do not give way to idle grief; do not sit down and mourn, but do your work bravely, and think how God is with you. I once knew a youth that, going to some distance from all his friends to a new situa- tion, felt so wretched at first that he actually wished he misht become ill so as to be taken home ; but he 216 Ver. 7. ESTHER II Ver. 7. lived to be useful and very happy where he allowed himself to form that wrong wish. The captive Jews found the same thing in many cases. God prospered them so much that, as we saw already, they would not go back to Jerusalem when they got the oppor- tunity. Yet the captivity reads a loud warning to us about sin. God will con-ect it even in His own people. He must have been very grieved to destroy His own Temple, and His own Salem. Yet He did it to show His displeasure with sin. He may be very loath to punish a bad child of pious parents ; but He will, unless the child i-epent. What one thing most of all showed God's hatred of sin, at the same time that it showed His love to us ? You cannot miss the answer if you read Romans vni. 32. We proposed to speak of— in. Hadassah the Beautiful Maiden — The text says 'she was fair and beautiful '. The Bible speaks of the beauty of several individuals much honoured in its histories. Sarah and Rachel, and Moses and David, and others, were goodly persons. Nobody should despise beauty of face. It gives pleasure. It is a power that may be used for good. It is very sweet in children. It is a creature of God. Nay, God is fond of what is beautiful. He has put a great deal of beauty into the world, and He must like to see it. Beautiful are His stars. His clouds. His rainbow, up in the sky. Beautiful are His woods. His flowers. His dewdrops down on the earth. What a feast of pleasure He has spread for us in them all ! And we ought to thank Him for making the face of children so often very beautiful. Bad character sjjoijs beauty. Who cares for Ab- salom's fine face, and the locks he was so proud of, when thinking of his rebellion against his good old father. And in any case mere beauty of face is a very poor thing to be proud of. It soon fades away. Death feeds on it. It is a dangerous thing to be proud of. It has led many a one to sin, and death, and hell You must seek for something higher and better than this. As far as I can now remember, the New Testament never tells us about beauty of person in the good people we read of there. It describes a higher beauty. It tells us of the child Jesus 'wax- ing strong in spirit, filled with wisdom ' ; of Mary's humble attention, and great faith ; of Dorcas's good works ; but never how they looked. It paints only beauty of soul. If you want to see a very finished picture of that, see it in 1 Corinthians xiii. Love is the grand beautifier. Some people buy cosmetics to make their faces beautiful ; if they would put more love into the heart, it would be better than them all. This beauty of soul makes up for the want of beauty where it is not. I have seen some sickly and some plain faces that were lovely through the shining out from within of a happy, kind heart. This beauty all may have. Ask the Holy Spirit for it, and you will get it. It makes other beauty, where it is, more beautiful. There's a flower ; it looks fair under the cloud ; but bring it into the sunshine, and see how bright it shows. A fair face, with a loving spirit looking through it, is a flower bathed in sunshine. Many a fair face has been spoiled by passion, bad temper, an unholy heart. Some fair faces have been forgotten in the beauty that came out through them from the soul. This beauty does not decay with age. I have seen it shine sweetest amid wrinkles, and from under hoary hairs. And this beauty restores the beauty which death blights. Those who possess it will rise from their graves bright as angels. Their faces will shine as the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Esther, to which Hadassah's name was changed, means a star. And you remember it is written, ' They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firma- ment, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars, for ever and ever '. Let us take a glance at— IV. Esther the Queen. — Though a great and favoured queen, she was humble. This was one of the very things that brought her favour. She was not exacting, she was not proud. She did not forget Mordecai or cease to take his advice. She feai-ed God ; and when she was going to seek the deliverance of her people, she fasted and prayed to the Lord. This, after all, made her far happier than her crown did. Happy Persia, to be blessed with such a queen ! You, too, young friends, have a queen for whose character you ought to give God thanks. Pray for long life and growing honour to Queen Victoria. Next time you hear the National Anthem, feel in your hearts to say, in devout earnest, God save the Queen ! Let us part with a wish. Here it is : — May you grow like a myi'tle, and glow like a star ? Grow as a myrtle. "Two qualities it has that I would like you to resemble. It is ever green. It cheers the winter as well as the summer. So be ye kind and lovely, in dark days as well as bright, in adversity as in prosperity. And the first time you see a myrtle, press one of its leaves with your thumb and finger, and scent its sweet fragrance. Then think — so let me be giving out a sweet savour of godline.ss, making the house I live in as pleasant as if some per- fume were filling the air. And glow like a star. What makes the star shine ? God clothed it with light. So walk you in light — Christ's light — the light of truth, and love, and holi- ness. Where shines the star? Up above the world so high Like a diamond in the sky. There the star shines. It has its home in heaven. There, at last, may you shine. There be your home for ever. — J. Edxiond, The Children's Church at Home, p. 109. 217 JOB JOB, THE MODEL OF PIETY 'Job . . . was . . . one that feared God.' — Job i. i. The history of Job is very interesting. We find the booli that bears his name placed next to the Book of Psalms in the Bible, but we must not suppose from this that Job lived about the time of David. This was not the case. Job must have lived not very long after the Deluge. Somewhere between the time of Noah and of Abraham is about the place to which he belonged. The Book of Job is probably the oldest book in the Bible, or in the world. It is a wonderful book on many accounts. And one of the most wonderful things about it is the amount of knowledge it contains in re- ference to astronomy and natural history, geography and such-like subjects. But more wonderful still than this is the knowledge that we find in the Book of Job about God and the nature of His service, and the right way of worshipping Him. And so, when we come to speak of Job as one of the Bible models, perhaps the best thing to do will be to consider him as the model of piety. This is just the view of his character which the words of our text would lead us to take. 'Job — was — one that feared God.' And when we come to study this model, we find that there are five things about it which we should remember, and try to imitate. I. Job was a Model of ' Home Piety '. — The Apostle Paul tells us that we should ' learn first to show piety at home ' (1 Tim. v. 4). This is the right place in which piety should be shown. Some persons are particular about going regularly to church. They pretend to be very good and pious when among strangers, but they are not careful how they act at home. This is not right. If we are really trying to be good Christians, and to love and serve God, then home is the place in which we should let our religion be seen. It should make us more respectful and obedient to our parents, and more kind and loving and gentle to our brothei-s and sisters, and to all about us at home, than those are who do not profess to be Christians. This was what Job's piety did for him. He had seven sons and three daughters. He was in the habit of having family worship with them. They had grown up to be good men and women under the influence of their father's home piety. His sons were settled near their father, in houses of their own. They were in the habit of having social gatherings at each other's houses. Their sisters, and all the members of their large ftxmily, were always invited to be present on these occasions. And when the feasting was over, their father was accustomed to gather them all together for special religious services, when he prayed that God would forgive them if any of them had said, or thought, or felt, or done anything that was wrong while the feasting was going on. And it was in this way that Job was a model of piety at home. And we should all try to follow his example here. For while real piety is a beautiful thing to see anywhere, it is always most beautiful when seen at home. Here are some illustrations of this state- ment. The power of example. — A young man who was about to be ordained to the ministry, in talking with a friend about what led him to become a Christian, said : — ' I was once very near becoming an infidel, but there was one argument in favour of the religion of Christ which I could never answer, and that was the beauti- fully consistent life of my father. This was the only thing that kept me from becoming an infidel. My father's beautiful home piety was what saved me.' How children m,ay show piety at home. — An old lady was sitting in her arm-chair by the fire. To a friend who came in to see her, she said : ' Look at my little granddaughter there ; she is feet, and hands, and eyes, and everything to me '. ' How so ? ' asked her friend. ' Why, you see, she runs about so nimbly to do the work of the house ; she fetches me so willingly what- ever I want ; and when she has done, she sits down and reads so nicely to me a chapter in the Bible. She is like a little angel to me.' That dear child had learned to ' show piety at home,' and this is the best thing for us all to learn. Job was a model of home piety. Let us all try to follow his example in this respect. II. Job was a Model of ' Intelligent' Piety. — Job lived so long ago that we could hardly have ex- pected to find he had very clear views about the character of God, and the way to serve Him. But he had. Indeed, it is wonderful how much he knew about these things. Let us take a single passage from the Book of Job to illustrate this point. In the nineteenth cha]3ter, verses 25, 26, we find him speaking thus : ' I know that my Redeemer liveth ; and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth ; and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.' These words are used in our Burial Service. We repeat them beside the open graves in which we bury our friends when they die. They are very beautiful words. They point us to Jesus. They show us that Job knew about the Saviour 218 Ver. 1. JOB I Ver. 1. Who was to come into the world in the fulness of time, and who was to secure to His people the resur- rection from the dead. Job lived before any part of the Bible had been written. But he got his knowledge about these things from the God of the Bible. And when we remember this, we do not wonder so much to find how clear his views were about God and His servica He went to God for his knowledae, and it was this which made him a model of intelligent piety. And if we wish to imitate Job in this respect, we must get our views of what true piety is from the Bible. All knowledge is valuable — but the knowledge of God, and the right way of serving Him, which we get from the Bible, is the most valuable of all. St. Paul said this knowledge was so excellent that he would consider the loss of everything he had a gain, if he might secure it in this way. And if we come to the Bible to find out what true piety is, and how we are to serve God, we shall under- stand this matter as Job did, and our piety, like his, will be intelligent ])iety. A cure for anger. — Two little sisters, one seven and the other five years old, were playing together, when a dispute arose between them. Lucy, the elder, feeling that her anger was rising, said : — ' I am getting angry ; I had better go out of the room for a few minutes.' She went out, and going to her own room kneeled down and asked God to help her not to get angry Then she went to her sister, and as it always takes two to make a quarrel, there was no quarrel between those sisters, because Lucy would have nothing to do with it. She had not read the Bible in vain. She under- stood the meaning of such sweet promises as these, 'Fear not, for I will help thee' (Is. xu. 10). 'Ask, and it shall be given you' (Matt. vii. 7). And this knowledge was a great help to her. Her piety was an intelligent piety. True comfort. — An aged Christian was once re- duced to great poverty, and yet he never murmured. A kind-hearted neighbour met him in the street one day, and said to him : ' You must be badly off' I can- not tell how you manage to maintain yourself and your wife ; and yet you are always cheerful'. ' Oh no,' said the old Chri-stian, ' we are not badly off. We have a rich Father, and He does not suffer us to want.' ' Is it possible that your father is not dead yet ? Why, he must be very old indeed.' ' My Father never dies. Of course I mean my Father in heaven. He always takes care of me.' This old man understood the meaning of God's promises, and he believed them. This made him happy. And this is enough to make anyone happy. This poor man shows us how we may imitate the model .Job sets before us of— intelligent piety. III. Job was a Model of ' Practical ' Piety We have some examples of good Christian men and women who are like Job in this respect. But there ought to be many more of the same kind. Indeed, every Christian ought to imitate the model of practical piety that we find in Job. And if we really love Jesus, there is no better way in which we can show our love to Him than by trying to be like Job in this respect. And if, from the example of Job, we look up to the example of Jesus, we shall find them both very much alike in this respect. When Jesus ' went about doing good ' He was making His piety practical. And if we wish to be His true and faithful followers, we must learn to ' tread in the blessed steps of His most holy life '. Let us look at some ill ustrations of the way in which we may do this. Bessie and her mission. — Pansie Merl was a little girl about seven years old. She was trying to be a Christian. During a long spell of sickness which Pansie had, her dear mother made her a doll. They called the doll Bessie. The good mother cut out a lot of underclothes for the doll, with dresses, and aprons, and sacques, and then she helped Pansie to make them all up. After that, during all her sickness, Pansie spent a great deal of time in dressing and un- dressing her doll, and in folding up her clothes and putting them away in a nice little set of drawers which her father had given her. And in doing this the dear child found the greatest possible delight and comfort. When she got well she continued to feel a great interest in the doll, and never forgot the comfort she had found in it during her sickness. And while thinking about it one day, the idea came into her mind that she might make her dolly a sort of mis- sionary. She made up her mind that when she heard of a sick child in their neighbourhood, too poor to have any playthings, she would take her dolly, and the little trunk containing its clothes, and lend it to the poor child to amuse and comfort her, until she got well again. Then when dolly came back she had her mended. Her clothes also were mended and washed, so as to be ready for another mission of mercy. That was Bessie's mission. And many a poor sick child was made happy in this way. Surely that little girl, in her own simple way, was following the example of practical piety which the Patriarch Job left us so long ago. IV. We have in Job a Model of ' Patient ' Piety. — The patience of Job was beautiful indeed at the be- ginning ; but it did not last. When he found that his trials continued longer than he expected, he got discouraged, and said some very impatient things. He failed in his patience before he got through with his trials. And so it is with all the examples of piety and patience that we find among our fellow-creatures. They fail, like Job, sooner or later. If we examine them closely, we shall be sure to find a blot about them somewhere. But it is different with Jesus, our blessed Saviour. His example is the only really per- fect one that was ever seen in this world. His example is perfect in everything. But it is especially so in His patience. V. But then there is one other point for us to notice, 219 Vv. 4, 5. JOB 1 Vv. 4, 5. in the model of piety which we have in Job, and that is, Me was a Model, or Example of ' Rewarded ' Piety. — When Satan was trying to get permission to tempt Job, one of the questions that he asked was, ' Does Job serve God for nought ? ' He meant to say that Job was selfish in his religion, and only served God for the pay or profit he expected from it. But he was mis- taken here. Job was not selfish in his religion. He knew very well that there was a rewai'd to be found in the service of God. But this was not the only thing he thought of in that service. When God gives us promises as His servants, he means that we should think about them and be influenced by them. Profitable living. — A collecting agent for the American Bible Society called on a plain farmer for his contribution to the Bible cause. He was not by any means a wealthy man, but worked his own farm. He looked over his books for a few moments, and then said, ' My contribution this year will be seventy dollars '. ' Why, this is a wonderfully large contribution,' said the collector. ' How can you afford to give so much ? ' 'I will tell you,' said the farmer. ' Six years ago I felt that I was not giving as much as I ought to give. So I made up my mind that I would try to give in proportion to what the Lord was giving to me. This was the plan which I concluded to adopt. I said to myself, I will lay aside for the Lord's use five cents on every bushel of wheat I raise ; three cents on every bushel of oats or barley ; and ten cents out of every dollar made by the wool and butter, and other things that I sell from my farm. At the close of the first year, after adopting this plan, I found that I had twenty dollars to give away. The second year I had thirty- five dollars ; the third year, forty-seven ; the fourth, forty-nine ; the fifth, fifty-nine ; and this year I have seventy dollars to give away. My own experience proves the truth of Solomon's words, when he says, in one place, " There is that scattereth, and yet in- creaseth ; " and in another place, " The liberal soul shall be made fat ".' We see the piety of this good man in the liberal way in which he made use of his money for doing good with it. And we see how his piety was rewarded in the gradual increase of his income. This is one of the ways in which God rewards those who show their piety bv giving freely to His cause. — Richard Newton, Bible Models, p. 44. A HAPPY FAMILY QATHERINQ IN PATRI- ARCHAL DAYS I 'And his sons went and feasted in their houses, every one his day ; and sent and called for their three sisters, to eat and to drink with them. ' And it was so, when the days of their feasting were gone about, that Job sent and sancti6ed them, and rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt-offerings according to the number of them all : for Job said. It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts. Thus did Job continually.' — Job i. 4, 5. What an attractive scene have we here, long, long ago, when the world was yet young ! The meeting took place in some Eastern desert : but no one can tell precisely where. Some have thought that it was near Mount Hor where Aaron died — the red hills of Edom. Some that it was farther north in the land of Giiead or Bashan. Job and his children had been celebrating, I do not know precisely what It was evidently a holiday of some kind. It may have been a birthday, or a marriage day ; or I have often imagined a New Year's Day. We have good reason to believe that Job lived before the Israelites had trodden the wilderness on their way from Egypt to Canaan. He was the Prince or Head of a tribe. He was very rich and powerful. His riches consisted not in coins of silver and gold, and bags of money — but in vast flocks of cattle that browsed in the desert pasture ; sheep and camels, oxen and asses. There was no greater man in all the East. His name was known far and wide among the wandering tribes. What was rarer, and at all events better than everything else, he was as good as he was famous. The Great God of heaven called him His ' servant ' ; and spoke of him more approv- ingly than perhaps of any other person in Bible history. He was a kind father. He was also a kind master (for no less than three times did his servants risk their lives to save his property). He had evi- dently what we call a very feeling heart. Among savage tribes there is often little thought given, or mercy and pity shown, to the suffering and the sorrowful : they live only for plunder or revenge. But Job loved to wipe the orphan's tears, and to make the widow's heart to sing for joy (Job xxix. 13). When he was seen walking along, the little children were not afraid of this desert king, but would kneel, as he passed, with a smile on their faces ; or they would kiss his hand, or the fringe of his Arab dress. He tells us himself, ' When the ear heard me, then it blest me ; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me' (Job xxix. 11). Job's vast followers — his family and servants and slaves — we may suppose had different kinds of dwell- ings. Some lived, as the Arabs do to this day, in black and striped tents — a circle of them, with the camels placed in the centre. We know, however, that they had stone houses too, perhaps not built as ours, but hollowed out in the soft sandstone rocks as we see in pictures of the old city of Petra. Well, without venturing to say exactly what sort of a holiday it was, let us see how they kept it. They had a feast (day about) at each other's houses. And we can readily suppose what a very happy time it would be. Just like similar meetings among yourselves, when your brothers and sisters come home for the holidays from school, to the old parental roof again. It is a beautiful picture too of real family affection. There were no jars nor dis- agreements. Any Christmas time or Chri.stmas home in a Christian land could not have been more joy- ful. ' See how these brothers and sisters love one another ! ' Shall I tell you why I think they were happy, and 220 Vv. 4, 5. JOB 1 Vv. 4, 5. had no quarrels ? It was because they had been taught by their noble-hearted father to fear God ; and he who loves God, loves his brother also. Let us imagine the scene ! The tall camels moving along the sands ; the brothel's and sisters looking anxiously out of the stone windows (or flat roofs when they had them) of theu' rocky houses, to see if their loved ones were coming. And then, how cheering when they did arrive ! How much they would have to tell, and talk about ! A wiiter on Job well observes that there was no post, or letters, or telegraph, or railways in these days as in ours. So that if their gatherings were seldom, their joy would be all the greater when they had them. But I think the happiest meeting would be the one which seems to have been held last. All good children love their parents, and I think the children of Job must have loved him specially. He was so gentle, and kind, and patient. You can think of them, therefore, on that closing day — very likely the greatest day of the feast — the concluding one of their holiday. They met in their father's house this time. I can picture too how pleased he would be. As the head or Chieftain of the encampment, he would be attired in his best raiment He would have on his red striped cloak and silver sandals. The gold ribbon or fillet would be entwined round the kerchief he wore. The very beasts of burden would have their scarlet trappings ; rich carpets instead of saddles on their backs, and chains dangling from their necks. As camel load after camel load, company after com- pany arrive, he would embrace each member of the family circle, on their alighting nimbly from the animals they rode. If he has a fatted calf on his pastures, I am sure he would bring it forth, and say, as he is seated amid his rejoicing children — ' It is meet that we should make merry and be glad'. — J. R. Macdott, Hosannas of the Children, p. 53. II ' And his sons went and feasted in their houses, every one his day ; and sent and called for their three sisters, to eat and to drink with thenu ' And it was so, when the days of their feasting were gone about, that Job sent and sanctified them, and rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt-offerings according to the number of them all: for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned and cursed God m their hearts. Thus did Job continually.' — Job. i. 4, 5. Once more let us revert to this bright old-world gathering in a happy home in some far-off land. I like often to think of that kind, good, noble Patriarch. He always reminds me of some beautiful tall column, towering high above the dim mists of the past : or of one of his own graceful desert palm- trees on the far horizon fixing the gaze and admira- tion of distant ages. Apart altogether from his goodness, there was much to attract towards this great chieftain or Shepherd- King himself. The book which gives us his history, and which is one of the oldest and most interesting in existence, shows him to have been a great lover of the outer world. He evidently made the grand Book of Nature his study ; whether it was ' the fowls of the air ' ; or ' the dew upon the branch ' ; or ' the rivers among the rocks ' ; or the clear azure sky by day ; or the brow of night in that eastern region girdled with her most glorious diadem of stai's : ' the sun when it shined, or the moon walking in brightness ' (Job XXXI. 26). Then, in addition to his untold wealth in flocks and herds, we have seen what a rarely loving and united family he had. There were no quanellings among them. Nothing that separated brother from brother, and sister from sister. We are reminded of the words of the Psalmist : ' Behold how good and how pleasant a thing it is to dwell together in unity ' (Ps. cxxxHi. 1). His sons were 'as plants grown up in their youth, and his daughters as corner-stones polished after the similitude of a palace (Ps. xcliv. 12). In all the world there seemed to be no more enviable lot than his. I cannot help thinking of Job as the Christian of that patriarchal age. He felt the need of a Sacri- fice and a Redeemer. In his own dim shadowy fashion he looked onwards and forwards to the one Great Sacrifice, ' the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world '. I like to recall the good old Patriarch in this way, honouring the future Messiah. That altar of the desert was a prophecy of Christ's coming — not in word, but in expressive action. I like, too, thus to think of him as one of those Gentiles spoken of by Isaiah (lx. 3, 6) , the first of ' the kings of Sheba and Seba ' who were in after ages to bring their gifts of gold and silver and cast them at the feet of Jesus, whose dominion was to be ' from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth '. I shall do no more than speak of the one most obvious lesson from the picture we have had before us, of this great Prince of the olden time. It is this — seek, like Job, to live in the fear of God. I should like to take you back for a moment to the opening verse of the whole book. How is he there described ? Yes, as a ' perfect and an upright man '. What a lovely character ! Upright ; that is truth- ful, honest, scorning to do an unfair or an unjust thing. In the beautiful words of Jesus spoken in a future age, his eye was 'single,' and therefore his ' whole body was full of light '. Try to have in your young hearts the true ' ring of goodness '. What do I mean by that ? Take a shilling, as I dare say you have often done, or seen others do, and cast it down on the table. It falls flat, with a dull, heav}', leaden sound. It is not true metal. The want of the clear ring as it spins to rest shows it to be fal.se, not pure silver ; only a piece of zinc, or iron, or tin. Take another coin of like appearance outwardly, and throw it on the same table. It makes a clear, shaip sound. You cannot mistake it. It is the right thing now : genuine silver. It has the true ring about it. Is it not so with you ? You are all outwardly and apparently the same. / can discern no differ- 221 Ver. 6. JOB VI Ver. 6. ence between you. Perhaps your nearest and dearest friends may fail to discover, or at any rate for a time, any difference. But God, the AD-Seeing and All- Searching, does. Some may be fondled and caressed, praised and commended as good boys or good girls ; while conscience tells them they have not ' the clear ring ' about them. They have done wrong, or are doing wrong ; they are not happy. Othei-s again are like the real silver coin I have described. With sincere and honest hearts they try to fear and serve God, and to be kind and loving to all around them. Their life is a strain of sweet music. Oh, this is the only really valued and valuable wealth and riches. I feel sure Job sought such wealth above all other things for his children ; ' a conscience void of offence both toward God and toward man '. When you grow up, do not make it your gi-eat con- cern how many sheep or camels or oxen you may have ; how much gold or silver, or houses or lands. Some people are always seeking after greatness. Let me never cease to tell you that it is far better to be good than to be great. Far better to be the poorest of the poor, with a good conscience, than the richest of the rich, with a conscience defiled and evil. Re- member what Paul said, who had none of these boasted things I have just spoken of. He was a poor travelling missionary ; yet possessing that true ' ring,' he could avow — ' I have all, and abound '. Thus living holy, in the fear of God, even if called at some aftertime of your lives, like Job, to suffer, you will be able to say as he said, ' Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him '. The words afterwards sung by the Great Prophet of Israel wei'e beautifully applicable in his case ; they will remain true of all who, whether young or old, seek to please God ; and, if not in this world, they will have a glorious meaning and reality in the world to come : ' He that walketh righteously and speaketh uprightly. . . . He shall dwell on high ; his place of defence shall be the munitions of rocks ; bread shall be given him ; his waters shall be sure' (Is. xxxni. 15, 16). — J. R. Macduff, Hosannas of the Children, p. 58. A QUESTION OF TASTE ' Is there any taste in the white of an egg ? '—Job vi. 6. None whatever ! There is no taste in the white of an egg. That is — if it is ' sound '. If it is a bit ' high,' however, there is a taste in it — and a nasty taste, too ! We won't speak of that ; 'tisn't pleasant. Eggs of that sort are not for eating ; they are only good for contested elections, though I don't hold by them, even then ! Speaking of good, sound, healthy eggs, however, you have all noticed that there is no taste in the ' white '. There is in the yellow 'yolk ' — but we are not speaking of it. I don't suppose there is one of you but has made the remark at the breakfast-table that there was no taste in the ' white,' and I have no doubt that you thought it was a very original obser- vation. Yet here is a man who had said the same thing more than three thousand years ago ! That is discouraging ; it always is discouraging to find your original remarks are only echoes of what somebody else has said long before. Not to be able to say even a thing like this without finding that it has been said before the Pyramids were built — this is enough to take the very heart out of genius. The only way I can think of for escaping these humblings is by never pretending to be original at all. But as it isn't given to everybody to be as wise as this, we must just put the best face on things we can. Anyway, it is quite true that there is no taste in the white of an egg. If it were a mere matter of ' taste,' I would have nothing more to say about it, for everybody has his own taste like his own nose, different from everybody else's. You like one thing, I like another, and the boy round the corner likes something neither of us can bear. When it is only a question of taste in that fashion, there is no use align- ing ; everybody has his own. But everybody is agreed about this. That's some- thing. Now, what is the white of an egg ? It is the chick's rations ! Yes. It is something within the ' yolk ' which makes the chick, and as soon as he gets a beak he begins, naturally, to feel peckish a bit, and so he makes for the ' white '. By the time he has eaten that up he has grown so big and so important that he disdains the world within the shell in which he was reared, and steps out into this larger world, and gets introduced to relations he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting before. Then he forgets all about the ' white,' — yet if it hadn't been for the white he would have died of starvation in the shell, as completely as ever an Arctic traveller died among the icebergs through want of food. It is too bad of him to forget ; but it is the way of chickens. The thing for us to notice is, that though the ' white ' has no taste it has very great strength. It is food for the chick, and it is food for you and me. Everything that is needed to make bone and blood and feathers — or hair — is in the white of an egg. Yet it is tasteless ! Then that shows, does it not ? that there are things in the world that are very good for us even though they may not be as pleasant as sugar or as quick to be noticed as some of the medi- cines the doctor gives us I They are tasteless, but they are strengthening — that's the point — the first point at least. The next point is this — the only way to find out how good these tasteless things are is by taking them. I have often seen the white of an egg exliibited in the chemistry class of a morning, and a great many wonderful things were done to show what it was made of, and how it was hardened, or soitened, by this thing and that ; but if any poor student had come there without his breakfast, he might have been made wiser, but he wouldn't have been made any stronger, by all he leai-nt. There is only one way of getting the strength that is in the white — and that is by eating it. As I said, then, there are a great many things like it in this respect ; they are tasteless, but good. There 222 Ver. 6. JOB VL, Vlll Ver. 7. is duty, for exampla Not much taste about it ! There is a fine smack about pleasit.re ; merely to look on it is enough to make the mouth water ; hutdiUy ! ah ! there isn't much spice about it. To have to do the same thing over and over again just because it has to be done, and not because we like to do it, is very tasteless work. But what strong men and women it makes ! There is nobody strong who shirks his duty, and there is nobody weak who has got into the habit of doing it. The best soldiers, the best sailors, the best men and women everywhere are those who have learnt to do their duty for duty's sake, and not be- cause there is anything sweet about it to tempt them on. Whatever you ought to do, do it — ^just because you ought, and though it is as tasteless at first as the white of an egg, it will make you at last stronger than Samson. Another very tastelessthing is— singing sweet songs to a saddened heart. Let me explain. Sometimes people become very sad ; some one they have dearly loved has died, or they have been greatly disappointed, or some one has done them a wrong, and their hearts ai'e heavy. They care nothing then for the sweetest songs. Everything they delighted in before becomes to them then as tasteless as the white of an egg. All the same they are the better for the songs and better for the sympathy. They don't feel it at the time, but yet it puts new strength into them ; just as with the white of an egg. Speak kindly to the sorrowing, speak hopefully to the sad ; though they don't seem to listen or care for what you say, yet they are all the better for it, and will be better for it still. Even sympathy and kindness can be tasteless at times ; but they are always strengthening. And there is worship. What a pity that should ever be tasteless ! But sometimes it is. Sometimes a person finds no pleasure in going to God's House, hearing His Word, or singing His praises. Sometimes he has no pleasure even in praying ! Think of that ! How you would wonder at yourself if your heart didn't dance and your eyes didn't brighten when you met somebody you really loved ! You would say, would you not ? that there was something wrong with your- self then. You would, and you would be quite cor- rect ; and it is just the same with us all when we cease to find any pleasure in meeting with Jesus in worship or praise or prayer. The fault is in ourselves ; we have lost our taste. People do so sometimes. When they are sick or ill or out of sorts there are many things they don't care for, of which they were very fond when they were in health. And the doctor tests them by it. He asks them from time to time, ' Can you take this yet ? ' or, ' Do y. u like that ? ' and so he knows whether they are getting better or getting worse. We can tell about our own hearts, our own spiiits, in the same way. If we have no pleasure in meeting with Jesus, in praising Him or praying to Him, it is a sure sign there is something wrong with us. There is sin somewhere, and it is making the soul sick and weak. There is no hope for us then unless that sin is put away. Till that is done we shall blame the worship, blame the praise, blame everything and everybody but ourselves ; just as the sick man does when he has lost his tasta Yet the fault is in ourselves all the time ! Then, when you don't like to go to church, don't like to praise Jesus, don't like to pray to Him, just give a look into your own heart and you will find something wicked there. Put that away ; ask Jesus to pardon it, and the things that seemed so tasteless before will be found to be very pleasant, and, what is more, they will be found to be very strengthening, like the white of an egg. Water is tasteless when you are not thirsty, and bread has no flavour when you ai'e not hungry, but how sweet water is when your tongue is parched ! and how toothsome bread is when you are ready to perish ! There is no spice like hunger and thirst. When you come to Jesus bring the hunger and thirst with you, and I promise — nay, Jesus piomises — you shall be abundantly satisfied. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Preacher, p. 101. SMALL BEQINNINOS, GREAT ENDINGS ' Though thy beginning was small, yet thy latter end should greatly increase.'— Job viii. y. When you do anything, or when you say anything, or when you think anything, or when you feel any- thing, it all goes to make, what? A habit. Some people say, ' Oh, I have done it, and there's an end of it '. Not in the least. It never is so. It goes on to make a habit. Do you understand me ? Suppose you had a number of little, tiny threads ; and you took one little thread and wove it ; and another, and another, till you made a strong belt, so strong that nothing could break it ; now everything you say, or feel, or do, or think, is woven together, and goes to make a strong belt. Or supposing you were to draw a little line with a pen, and at the end of the line put a little dot, and another, and another, and go on putting a number of dots till they reached, oh ! I cannot say how far ; so everything you say is a little dot to the line going on and on unto eternity, never stopping. Yes, everything you say, or do, or think, or feel, is like a little thread or dot, adding on and on, for ever. Can you think in the Bible of any little boys or girls who did that? I am only now going to tell you of good ones — I might tell you about naughty ones — but I am, to-day, only going to tell you about good ones. There was a little boy in the Bible who used to be very good and kind to his brothers — took messages to them ; and when he grew up to be a man God made him so great a man that he saved the lives of his brothel's. So the little messages he took in his early life formed the habit of being kind to his brothers. Another little boy opened the doors of the church in the morning — that was almost all he could do ; and when he grew up to be a man God let him do many holy things — he anointed a king, and many great things, because he liked when a boy to do little things. Ver. 7. JOB VIII Ver. 7. Another little boy, when keeping sheep, fought with a lion and a bear ; afterwards he fought all kinds of people — he fought a great giant, and killed him — many armies, and destroyed them. He began with little things, and God helped him to become a great man. Another little boy had a good mother and grand- mother— he became a great man — but began, when a very little boy, to love the Bible. God afterwards made him a great man. But there was one little boy better than all — a perfect boy ; and when He was twelve years old He liked to do His Father's work ; and He did nothing but His Father's business. He formed the habit by commencing with little duties. Little beginnings, great endings — 'Though thy beginning was small, yet thy latter end should greatly increase '. It is God's will now with everything — to begin small, and to go on till it gets great ? But it was not always His rule — not when He made the world. When the first tree was made I suppose it was made at first a fine, great tree. When the first man was made — he was not first a little child — his body was at first as fine as ever it was, and His mind also. Adam was perfect at once. But the second Adam was not. Do you know who the second Adam was ? Christ. Christ was not. He was once a little, tiny babe — and His body grew and His mind grew. We ai-e to be like Christ — to grow. Everything is to grow. Things begin so ' small ' and get, oh, so big ! About seventy years ago, perhaps rather more. Dr. Franklin in America found out that the lightning up in the skies is the same thing as what we call ' elec- tricity ' down in the earth, and people said to him, ' What is the use of what you have found out ? ' and tried to laugh at him for it. ' I will tell you what is the use of it,' said he ; and this was his answer — ' What is the use of a little child becoming a man ? ' A little after. Dr. Galvani's wife (in France) was cooking a frog for her husband's dinner — the frog was dead, and it touched some metals, and the frog jumped ; she told her husband — he thought a great deal about it — he was a philosopher, and he reasoned upon it — that was in the year 1791 ; in the year 1794 a clever Italian, Dr. Voltag, carried on the dis- covery, and made a battery. And now what do you think is the most wonderful thing in the world ? I think the electric telegraph — and this originated from Dr. Franklin's discovery of the lightning — the frog touched by the metal, and Dr. Voltag's battery. Small beginnings — great endings. But I am going to talk about something much more important than electric telegraphs — I mean, little ' beginnings ' in your heart ; they will lead to great ends. Do you know religion begins in the heart? I mean, how a person begins to become really religious ; to love God and be good to men and women ? How do they begin ? Do you know who begins it ? Do they begin it ? No. Who then? Think. The Holy Spirit always. And does He begin, generally, in a great way ? Does He do some great thing ? No, usually a very ' small ' thing, you can hardly think how 'small' — what a little thing He does first ! It is like a little voice such as Samuel heard, or a little, tiny silken thread drawing the heart, or some little feeling drawing the soul. You must look out for these little things, or you will miss them. Everything depends on how you treat these little things. If you trifle with them they'll go. But if you try to obey them that is the way you will be- come a Christian, a useful one. But you must take great pains to look out for these little voices, whispers, calls ; for that is the beginning of the Holy Spirit's work. I am going to tell you about some of them, if you like ; because remember, nothing can be so important as to know how we begin to be God's people. And if you feel these little things in your heart, remember it is God ' beginning ' to lead on to a great end. Now I think that the first thing I should mention is, when persons feel in their own hearts about their sins, a little feeling of their own sinfulness. I wonder whether you have ever felt it. I do not mean that you have felt unhappy because you have grieved 3'our father and mother ; but whether you have ever felt unhappy because you have grieved God, whether you have a sense of sin in your own heart Can you think of some persons in the Bible with whom it began ? Josiah was a very good boy. What is said about him ? Read 2 Chronicles xxxrv. 27, ' Because thine heart was tender, and thou didst humble thyself before God '. Now that is just the feeling, to feel very soft, almost cry, because we have grieved God. This is a sure ' beginning '. Do you remember when David did a little thing once — we should almost have said it was a good thing — he could have killed Saul, but he did not, he only cut off a bit of his dress ; his heart smote him because he had done it to the king, the Lord's anointed. His was a tender heart ! In the fifth chapter of Luke we read about Peter; some think that this is really the time when Peter first began to be a Christian. He was in a boat, and said to Christ, ' Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord '. He began to feel his sins. There was what I mean, God's good Spirit had put it into his heart to feel his sins, that he had grieved God. I will tell you about another little boy, not in the Bible, His name was Samuel — not the little Samuel in the Bible. One day he had done something wrong — I don't know what it was, I don't want to know — he had grieved his dear father, who was a clergyman, and his father had put him out of the room ; presently little Samuel came back, saying, ' Oh, papa, I can't get on with my lessons till you forgive me. I am very sorry I have done wrong. Give me a sign that you have forgiven me. Kiss me.' ' Yes,' said 224. Ver. 7. JOB VIII Ver. 7. the father, ' I forgive you hiitantly.' ' Now, papa, I can do niv Latin and Greek with anybody, since you have forgiven me.' He began to i"uii out of the room. ' Stop a moment,' said his father. ' Remember you have a heavenly Father — have you asked His forgive- ness?' ' Yes, p'lpa, I went to Him first. I went to my room, knelt down, and asked Him to forgive me, and I think He has.' The father writes, it was the only time lie ever was grieved about his son ; from that time he became a Christian boy, and he never had any cause of sorrow for him. That sense of sin was the little ' beginning '. I wonder whether you have had that ' beginning ? ' Pray for it. Ask the Holy Spirit to give it you. I will now go on to another thing — it is something like the first, but not quite. It is when we begin to feel a battle inside our hearts, a struggle — something good and something naughty. They seem to fight. At last we get the victory over something. I believe that is a sure ' beginning ' when boys or girls begin to feel a struggle in their own hearts ; because by nature people feel no struggle — but when the struggle begins, it is a sure sign there is something good going on ! for you would never know when it was dark, if you had never seen light ! So God said to Adam and Eve — ' I will put enmity ' — a struggle, it's a sign for good. There was a very good man who died a short time ago, who was once bishop of Bombay — -Dr. CaiT. He was not born quite a gentleman. When a boy he lived in Leed.s — he went to a manufactory there. They did not, however, do everything quite honour- ably there, and once they told young Carr to write a letter which he considered rather dishonourable. Young CaiT said, 'I can't do it '. They said, ' It is madness to refuse ; you are clerk, and will be raised to a partnership — you have no money of your own — you are poor — but you will become rich if you stay with us '. 'I can't do it,' he said. He left them, and a clergyman in the neighbour- hood hearing of it put him to school, and to com- plete his education sent him to college — and he became a clergyman and a bishop ' They that honour Me,' says God, 'I will honour.' All began with that struggle in his own heart and conscience. It was a little ' beginning,' it came to a great end ; for he not only was a bishop, but became a good, useful man. Everybody loved him — that was the way he began. I will tell you about one more of these little ' be- ginnings '. A little boy once slept in a room with some pears ; he did not touch them, because they wei'e not his. Afterwards some boys said to him, ' Why did you not pocket some ? No one would have seen you'. 'Yes,' said he, ' God would have seen me.' So he conquered himself ; and he further said, ' I will never do anything in my life that I should not like to .see myself. That was a noble resolve. Remember it. Now I will go on to another thing — beginning to feel a little pleasure in good things. Some children do not like going to church — reailing their Bibles they think stupid and dull — and they only do it because they must. I am afraid in such the 'begin- ning' has not taken place. When a boy or girl finds a [)leasure in these things then there is a nice 'be- ginning '. There was a very pious young lady who died some time ago ; a i-elative of hers told me this : she was looking very beautiful as she lay dying — she asked for her box of jewels — they were very spleniiid — she had them all laid upon her beil — her friends were around ; she distributed them — diamonds, precious stones, gold and silver — as remembrances. When she had given them all away she called her husband to her side, and taking her Bible said to him, ' I give you this — my jewel of jewels — oh ! that I could give with this Bible all the comfort and all the peace this Gospel has been to me ! ' At a Deaf and Dumb Institution some time ago, the master said to all the children, ' Write down on your slates what is the happiest thing '. One child wrote 'Jov'; the next, 'Hope'; a third, 'Love'; another, ' Gratitude ' ; the next wrote down ' Repent- ance'— it was a little girl who wrote it — and there was a tear in her eye. Her teacher said, ' My dear, this is not a happy feeling — how can you write down repentance as being the happiest thing ? ' She wrote, ' I think it is — there is nothing so happy in the world as to be humble in God's sight '. Tliis is quite true. I believe in the order in which I have put them ; you might place the happy feelings. There is nothing happier than real repentance. Now one thing more — when we try to bo useful, when you begin to be religious, you will want to do good things, if even you arc only five years old. I never knew anybody become really religious who did not wish somebody else to be happy, and to love God. In Cornwall there is a lighthouse at some distance from the land. There lived here a man, his wife, and their little daughter. One day the man and his wife went on shore in a boat, and wicked people, called ' wreckers,' kept them there, hoping thereby that some vessel might be dashed to pieces through the light not being lit in the lighthouse. The little girl was left alone ; 'twas a dangerous place to get up to light the lamp, but she had forethought and courage to go to the top of the very high building, for she thought truly if the lamps were not lighted some ships might be lost ! 'this is what you ought to do. Light the lights ! Show a light! What light? Do you remember what Christ says, ' Let your light so shine before men, that they, seeing your good works, may glorify your Father which is in heaven '. Those are the four little ' beginnings,' will you re- member them? to feel our sins, to have a struggle in our hearts, and by God's help to get a victory over some besetting sin, to feel a pleasure in good things, and to try to do good to somebjdy. 225 15 Yv. 13, 14. JOB VII I., XIII \'er. 15,. You may sa}', ' Do you think God will notice those little feelings in our hearts ? Will He care about them ? ' Oh, yes, He will, as much, I may say more, perhaps, than He cares about an archangel's service. I could give you a great many proofs from the Bible as to how He cares about ' little ' things. In Zechariah, He savs, ' Who hath despised the day of small things?.' And He said about children, ' If any man despise these little ones, it were better for him if he had never been born '. I am sure God won't despise 'little things ' in any child. — James Vaughan. THE SPIDER ' The hypocrite's hope shall perish, . . . whose trust shall be a spider's web.'— Job viii. 13, 14. TuRXiXG to the spider itself, we may learn various lessons. I. Its Skill as a Weaver. — Like Hogarth's good apprentice, it has made admirable use of its trade. Its web, however frail, is really a marvellous production. It is distinguished by beauty of design, fineness of texture, nicety and sensitiveness of touch, reminding us of Pope's couplet — Tlie spider's touch, how e.xquisitely fine. Feels at each thread and lives along the line. And when we add to this that the whole fabric is spun out of its own body — a part of its very life — it is not difficult to see that the spider's work must be of the finest order, and well worthy of the study and imitation of every young apprentice. Every lad in going forward to the work of his life should set up a high ideal. In all that he does he ought to aim at perfection. Like the spider's web his work, whatever it is, should be a bit of himself — steeped in his own thought and shaped by his own effort. He may only be a weaver, but he must aspire to be a good one— one who plans as well as labours, and reads as well as plans. For in the race of life muscle is no match for mind, and skill will always outstri|) slovenliness — just as the great Goliath must go down before the alert son of Jesse, and the pigmies of the African forest can easily outmatch and out- manoeuvre the lion. Let every young life go and examine the perfection of the spider's web, and seek to do likewise. II. Its Prowess as a Hunter. — Popular prejudice has always been against the spider; and it must be admitted that there is a good deal to sanction the poet's unfavourable verdict when he says regarding it — Cunning aad fierce, mixture ahhorr'd. Its cunning and craft have passed into a proverb; and all the children know that its apparent treachery, in decoying the little fly into its parlour, has been suitably expressed in verse. Its fierceness also is quite equal to its cunning, and when the thought of its hairy-looking appearance is added to the fact of the poison-fangs which it buries in the bodies of its victims, there would seem to be enough to warrant the general dislike with which the spider has at all times been regarded. On the other hand we must not forget these two things : (1) That the spider is only fulfilling the in- stinct which an allwise God has implanted in it ; and (2) that it is of great service to man in diminishing the swarms of insects by which he is molested. Thomas Edward, the Banffshire naturalist, calculated that a single pair of swallows would destroy 282,000 insects in one year while rearing their two broods, and sometimes they rear three. And if this be the service rendered by a single pair of birds, what may not be accomplished by those innumerable spiders that weave their gummy webs on every bush and hedgerow, and spend the entire day, and sometimes the whole night, in trapping and ridding the atmo- sphere of those annoying pests. Bereft of these wily hunters we should be like the Egyptians in the time of Moses — plagued and eaten up of flies ; so that in spite of prejudice and general dislike the spider is occupying a real sphere of usefulness in the world. And so may we. We can afford at times to pause and study the hunter's skill, and do something to imitate its prowess. III. Its Fame as a Teacher. — It teaches us how to spin and how to weave, how to hunt and how to snare. And as one has expressed it, it has solved many a problem in mathematics before Euclid was born. Look at the spider's web and see whether ' any hand of man, with all the fine appliances of art,, and twenty years' apprenticeship to boot, tould weave us such another'. Nay, if we think of the water- spider which l)ottles up air and takes it under water to breathe with, it is not too much to say that if people had but ' watched water-spiders as Robert Bruce watched the cottage spider, diving-bells would have been discovered himdreds of years ago, and people might have learnt how to go to the bottom of the sea and save the treasures of wrecks ' The name of King Robert the Bruce suggests one special lesson. If all history be true the spider will always be known in Scotland as the teacher of per- severance— If at first you don't succeed, Try, try, try again. And little do children in any age think how great an influence they might wield, if only in devotion to what is right they would follow and obey Christ's Gospel. Many a tiny seed has grown into a great tree. And Jesus Himself has said, ' Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise' (Matt. xxt. 16). — John Adams, Kinglesa Folk, p. 83.. WHY DOES GOD SEND TROUBLES? ' Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.'— Job xiii. 15. Perhaf's you have sometimes been perplexed asyoii> have thought of the many tears which are shed in a- world made by a God of love. It is not the thing, you think, God should do, to let people cry so, and even to make them cry, if He is kind and careful for His creatures' good, as the Saviour says He is. It is. certainly not the way you would do. 226 Ver. 15. JOB XIII., XIV Ver. 19. And I do not deny the truth of such thoughts, nor do I profess to fully understand how it comes about that this world is so full of pain. But one thing is certain, God never causes us a needless pain, and all the world will one day know it too. Then all nations, peoples, and tongues will clap their hands ami lie glad, and shout aloud for joy that Goil did just what He did ; and those very ways of His which brought us sorrow our grateful hearts shall rank as His most golden deeds. Let me illustrate what I mean by a story of the mutiny in India. The Indian Mutiny was the rising of a lot of desperate men, with swords and guns, against the authority of the Queen. They imprisoned and slaughtered her officers wherever they could, and even theii- wives and children ; and the only safety for anybody who happened to be an Englishman was to fly to some place of safety beyond their reach. On the day of the rising of these cruel, savage men in one place, there was a little child who had been left in the charge of her Indian nurse, father and mother being fi-om home ; and unless she could be got away she would be put to death, for she had a white skin, and was the child of an officer of the Queen. She was three years old. In this ])lace, too, were other officers, and these, when danger had come and all must fly, at once thought of their absent comrade's child in its loneline,ss, and without a second's delay one of them galloped to her home, dismounted, rushed into the room where she was at play with her dark-skinned Indian nur.se, seized her, hurried back to his horse, and mounting put her before him, holding her on the horse's neck. By this time the street was filled with men who rushed at the flying officer to seize his horse, and stop and kill both him and that English child. But the brave man, with a strong arm and a trusty sword, cut them down, fighting every inch of his wav, and hold- ing the child fast on the horse's neck. But oh I the trouble that child gave the brave man. From the first she kicked and struggled and shrieked ; and again and again she had almost wriggled herself out of his arms. Every moment it seemed as if she must wriggle herself free and fall. But in spite of struggles and screams and tears, with one arm clinging firmly to her, with the other cutting his way bravely through opposing men, after a long, hard ride, her brave pi-o- tector delivered her safe into her thankful mother's arms. Yet there, even, no entreaties could make her kiss him. He had hurt her, he had ! She shrank fi-om him in genuine dislike. She almost hated him. ' Friend ! How could he be a friend ? ' thought the simple child. He had stolen her from her nurse, broken up her pleasant game, and given her such a crush with his hard arm, such a shaking on the bare neck of his horse as no friend, she was sure, could ever think of doing. Ki.ss and thank him ! Her genuine little heart could do no such thing. She would not forgive nor even look at him, and timidly shrank from his touch. Such was a child's view of her delivering friend. She had no faith in a man who could cause her such pain. But though that child could not see, you can see, can't you, that the captain was her friend, her true friend ? And some day, when she was old enough to understand, you are sure that she would see this too, and then she would no longer call him unkind ; she would feel how deeply kind he had been, and would even thank him forall the foolish tears he caused her, and all the needful pain he had given her in that dreadful ride. One thing oidy would she regret, not that she was jogged about so dreadfully in that long, dangerous ride, but that she had ever thought ill of her friend, and refused to thank him for his love — refused to kiss the hand that saved her. Now, may we not be like that little girl when we grumble at the tears we have to shed and the pain we have to suffojr? This at least is quite certain — like her we are very young. Speaking in the light of our long future we were ' born yesterday and know nothing '. Of those who have lived longest, Jesus says they must be saved as 'little children,' trusting not in their own knowledge of things, but in His love ; for of their eternal life not one man in all the world has yet passed his childhood, and of the eternal world we know nothing, just as that screaming, struggling child knew nothing of the Indian Mutiny and of the great dangers which surrounded her tiny life. Then, again, we are like her, too, in this — we are being saved. God is saving us — saving His little child- ren who cannot understand, and who like pleasure and do not see danger. If we weep, as did that little girl — if we struggle and scream, and would do any- thing to rid ourselves of this kind control. He does not let us have our own way ; for He knows too well that we are not fit to have it — we are too simple, and young, and ignorant. He is quite willing to be grumbled at to-day, knowing that one of these days we shall see how foolish we have been ; and when the painful ride is over we shall understand what we do not and cannot now — that God is love, and all His ways are loving too. So now, while the rough ride with its pains and tears lasts, let us give up struggling and murmuring against His ways, and bravely stand the pain He gives us. Let us have faith in God ; say, God would not, God could not, do all this if it was not for our good. 'Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.' — BEKj.vstiN Waugh, Sunday Evenings with My Children, p. 283. DROPS AND ROCKS ' The waters wear the stones.' — Job xiv. ig. What is weaker than a drop of water ? What is stronger than a rock ? It is a common proverb, if we wish to describe immovable strength, to say, 'as firm as a rock'; or if we would describe weakness, ' weak as water '. Catch a dro]) of rain in your hand. Though perhaps it has fallen from a mile high, it will not hurt a baby's hanil, it is so soft. As the warm sunshine rests on it, silently it dries up and is gone. 227 Ver. 19. JOB XIV Ver. 19. Now pick up a pebble. If tlmt were to fall upon you from as high up in the air as the rain-drop, it would kill you. Look at a great boulder of grey rock as it lies on the moor. If you were to dash your hand against it, you would draw it back brui«ed and bleed- ing. If a cannon-ball struck it, perhaps a few s])linters would Hy off, but the rock would fling back the cannon-ball as easily as you would fling back a cricket-ball in play. Does it not seem very unlikely that soft, weak water-drops can ever make any im- pression on hard rocks ? Yet the Bible says, ' The waters wear the stones '. And so they do. Pick up the hardest pebble you can find on the seashore, granite or topaz or rock-crystal. Your sharpest knife will not scratch it. You may hammer away a long time with all your might, but you will not break it. But how did it come into that shape, so rounded and smooth? Once it was a ragged chip of rock, all edges and corners. But the sea waves and currents rolled it about, as if in play, for thou- sands and thousands of years, rubbing and grinding it against other pebbles till it grew shapely and polished as you see it now. Examine the cliffs by the seashoi-e, and the rocky ledges over which the waves break in foam, and you mil find that they have been wo-Ti into curious sliapes, and sometimes hollowed into deep caves, by the dashing surges. Or look at some waterfall among the mountains, and you will find that the hard rock has been worn smooth by the con- tinual jjouring of the water over it. Often, too, the tiny rain-drops trickle into cracks in the rock, and by slow degrees wash away the earth behind and under- neath it ; till at last the rock is loosened, and falls with a mighty crash. In some places, a whole mountain-side has thus been loosened, and has slid down into the valley, cairying houses along with it, or burying them under it. Thus, as Job says : — The mountain falling cometh to nought, And the rock is removed out of its place. The waters wear the stones. I. And first, as the waters wear the stones, they teach us a lesson of Perseverance. They write upon the rocks a parable of patient diligence. Question them— How can you, soft, feeble, tiny drops of water make any impression on the hard stones ? They answer, ' By keeping always at it. That is our secreb. AVe never give up. Slow hard work it is, to be sure ; so slow and hard that days and weeks pass, and we seem to have done nothing. Years pass, and you can hardly see our work. But we stick to it. We are never weary. And at last we conquer. The waters wear the stones.' Some people want to do everything at a dash. They caimot bear patient plodding. They are splendid at the first go off. They are like a racer who at starting takes the lead, and distances all his rivals; but he lacks what is called 'staying power'. By degrees his breath and his legs begin to"f"iil him ; the other racers, little by little, steadily overtake him, and he comes in last of all. If the waters made a gi-eat dash at the rock, they would make a huge noise and commotion and split themselves into spray ; but it is only by keeping always at it that little by little they wear the rock away. I do not forget that some things have to be done with a dash if they are to be done at all. But the power to do them was gained by slow steady plodding. You might see a skilful painter, when a glorious sun- set is lighting up the summer sky, hastily take out his sketch-book and paint-box, and little tin water- bottle, and dash the colours on his paper as if by magic. Before the sky has time to fade, there is a lovely little picture — orange sky, and crimson clouds, and dark trees, and brook foaming among the rocks, and reflecting in a quiet pool the colours of the sky. Ask the painter how he has gained the power to make that picture so rapidly ; and he will tell you — ■ not by dashinrj at everything and doing it as quick as possible, but by ])atient work and dogged diligence, sticking to his work through many a tedious hour, drawing and rubbing out, and drawing ag&in, till at last painting has grown as easy to him as talking. One day, a good many years ago, an officer was riding along a road which ran near the brink of a frightful precipice. Suddenly a carriage filled with people came tearing furiously down the hill. The horses had taken fright, and the driver in vain pulled with all his might to stop them. In another minute, horses, carriage, and people would have rolled over the precipice. But the officer drew a pistol from his saddle, galloped alongside, and shot one of the horses dead, and so stopped the carriage just in time. The people were no doubt shaken and hurt, but their lives were saved. Now that was a thing which had to be done in a moment, or it could not have been done at all. Suppose a minute afterwards the officer had said to himself, ' Oh, I have a pistol ; I might have shot one of the horses I ' it would have been too late. But if you had asked him. How did you come by that presence of mind, and coolness, and courage, which enabled you in an instant to do the only thing that could save those people ? he would have told you, not by galloping about firing off pistols, or by making brilliant dashes at things and doing every- thing in a hurry, but by tedious drill, strict and prompt obedience to orders, learning day by day to think not about him;elf but about his duty, and punctually and faithfully to do it. So you see, as I said, there are some things which must be done at a stroke, on the spur of the moment, or the opportunity is gone for ever. But the eye to see what is to be done, the skill to aim the stroke, the strength to give it, the coolness and courage to be as steady and self-possessed at the moment as if you had plenty of time to spare, these can come only by slow patient, persevering work, like that with which the waters wear the stones. And it is only a few things, now and then, that need to be done thus suddenly. Most of the work of our daily life is such that patient perseverance counts for more than brilliant cleverness ; so that the 228 Ver. 19. JOB XIV Ver. 19. race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong, but to those who sticii to their purpose and never give in. II. ' The waters ' as they ' wear the stones ' may teach us a Parable of Life. They may remind us what little things may in time do great mischief. Not a few homes, I am afraid, could be found, in which it would pay to have this motto — ' The waters wear the stones ' — put up in golden letters, if only everybody would learn its lessons. They seem to lack nothing that is needed for a happy home. The par- ents are well-to-do, educated, sensible people, anxious for the welfai-e of their children. The children have good health, good abilities, good education, abun- dant means of enjoyment. Yet the home is not a happy one. Why not ? Do they not love one another ? Yes, in a sort. If one of the boys broke his leg, all his sisters would stav at home to nurse him. If one of the sisters died, the whole family would be in deep grief. What is amiss? Only this, that they have none of them learned how much both the happine.ss and the unhappiness of life depend on little things. None of them has learned to give up in little things. None of them can refrain from a little ill-natured joke, a little sharp answer, that cuts like a pen-knife, or pricks like a needle. Little opportunities for a kind action, a kind word, a kind look, slip by continually. And so, because life is mostly made up of little things, the happiness of home is bit by bit destroyed, even as ' the waters wear the stones'. III. The water-worn rock, with the furrows and channels which the water has so slowly but deeply carved, teaches us another pai'able, a Parable of Char- acter. Do you understand what is meant by ' character ' ? You ought, for it is the most important thing about anybody. A person's character means what sort of person he is. Don't you know some boys or girls of whom if anyone told you they had told a lie, or done some mean, cruel, dishonest thing, you would say ' I can't believe that ; it isn't like him ! ' And there are others of whom you would say ' I can easily believe it ; it is just like him '. It is his character. Some people are so stiff iu their opinion or determined on having their own way that you can no more persuade them than you can bend an iron poker. Others are so easily persuaded that they are like reeds, blown this way and that by every breeze. It is their character. Some people have a character for unpunctuality ; they are always a little behindhand. Other people are always in time ; nobody ever kn.2w them come late to church, or miss a train, or be the last down to breakfast. Punctuality is part of their character. And we find that people are very apt to keep through life the character they form when they are boys and girls. Often you may hear it said : ' Ah ! I remember him at school. He is just the same now as he used to be.' Now, how is this ? Partly because we are horn different. No two babies are t.r.ictly alike. But chiefly our character depends on the habits we form. What are ' habits ' ? Habits are the ways we get into of behaving, or speaking, or thinking .and feel- ing. There are good habits and bad habits. And how do these habits grow ? Little by little, as the waters wear the stones. Another thing water sometimes does, quite as wonderful as wearing the stones away, making stones grow. At Knaresborough, in Yorkshire, there is what is called ' The Dropping Well '. At the foot of a rock that hangs over like a ))ent-house is a pool into which the water does not pour over the rock, but soaks through from above and comes dropping down like rain. Here you may see many curious things which all seem made of stone. Here is a stone bird's ne.st, with four eggs in it Once a bird built that nest of soft moss and lined it with soft hair and feathers. The eggs lay there fresh .and full of life ; if the bird had s.at on them they would have been hatched and little birds would have come forth to soar in the air and sing among the trees. Now all is hard, cold, dead. Here, again, is a stone book. Once it was a real book. Perhaps in it were chai-m- ing stories, sweet hymns, beautiful pictures. Now all is sealed up in stone. It can never be opened again. How is this ? Tlio.se tiny drops of water have done it all. Catch some of them in a wine-glass ; the water looks clear and sparkling. Drink some ; you taste nothing in it. Yet in every drop of that water there is dissolved a little portion of rock — so little that the strongest microscope could not show it ; and as the wal'er drops on the nest, or the book, or anything else put there to be ' petrified,' it leaves a little in- visible film of stone. Little by little the stony coat- ing grows ; till at last nothing but stone is to be seen. The people at the well takeaway the petrified nest, or book, or pen, or cricket-ball, and put some- thing else in its place. ' Petrifying,' or ' petrifac- tion ' means turning to stone. The sinner's heart is ' past feeling ' (Eph. rv. 19), cold, hard, dead, petrified ; a stony heart. How did it come about ? Little by little evil habits grew ; the habit of neglecting prayer, of neglecting God's word, of making jokes about holy things, of careless ungodliness, of love of the world ; perhaps habits of dishonesty, or of intemperance, or of other deadly sins, and ' foolish and hurtful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition ' (1 Tim. VI. 9). Alas ! Is there no hope, no remedy ? Our merciful Saviour answers, ' With men it is im- possible, but not with God ; for with God all things are possible' (Mark x. 27). If even the hardened sinner, who has lost all good and right and tender feeling, and whose evil habits bind him like chains, would turn to God in earnest prayer, God would fulfil to him the wonderful promise He gave to the Jews of old :— A iievr heart will I g:ive you ; And a new spirit will I put within you. .'Vnd I will take away the stonv heart out of your flesh ; And I will give you a heart of desh. — E. R. CoxDEB, Drops and Rocks, p. 1. 229 Ver. 14. JOB X V 1 1 Ver. 14. OUR MOTHER THE WORM Thave said ... to the worm, Thou art my mother." — Job XVII. 14. I AM sure you will say this is a strange text and cannot teach us much that will be helpful, but I trust you will be agreeably disappointed, for these words are full of great meanings. We know what they meant on the lips of .Job. He was in the depths of despair because of all that he had suffered iu body and in mind, and he felt so low and dispirited that he thought he might actually claim relationship with the worms. A worm stood, in his eyes, for all that was despised and worthless and mean, and he had been so afflicted by the hand of God that he could utter these words of utter humiliation — ' I have said to the worm, Thou art my mother '. Can we imagine a man lower than this, more abject in his feeling of degradation ? We know Job did not mean these words to be understood literally ; it was only what we call a figure of speech to express as clearly as possible how miserable he felt. But what would you say if I were to insist that his words are true in a very real sense, and that you and I as well as Job can say to this despised little creature ' Thou art my mother ? ' In one sense we owe our life to our mother ; she gave us bu'th ; and in another sense we owe it to the worm we speak of with so much contempt. What I am to try and do now is to show you how true it is, that if it were not for the worms that move in the earth we could never live, and if we manage to prove this then we can repeat these words of Job in a way that even he never dreamed of. It is true that in all ages and among every race the worm has been regarded as the type of all that was low and contemptible. In the Bible this is very clearly seen. If you turn up its many references to the worm you will always find it speaks of it as a creature to be despised and avoided. What is a serpent but a big worm ; and what does the serpent stand for in the Bible ? It stands for sin ; and in the awful pictures we have of the place where sin is punished we find 'the worm that never dies ' as the symbol of the dreadful consequences of sin. Turn where you will in the Word of God. you will not find a good word said about the poor worm, because, in those days, no one realised the good a worm could do. Now this feeling with regard to worms has prevailed throughout the world down to our own day, but in the year 1881 something happened which changed for ever our low opinion about this creature. And what do you think that was ? Why, just the pub- lication of a book devoted to the subject of worms. Who would ever have thought they were worthy of a man's study and of the labour that a book entailed ? Yet so it was. Some of you have heard of that great man of science, Charles Darwin, who has done so much to throw light on the wonderful way in which God works in the making of the world and of every L-reature that lives in it. He has done more thaii any man to increase our wonder at the marvels of growth, and the meaning of it, and to increase our reverence for the God who rules and con- trols all the processes of the world of Nature. And one of the best things he has done is to show us how God uses the little worm as one of His great in- struments for sustaining the life of man on the earth. For forty years Darwin studied these creatures. All that time, with marvellous patience and keen insight, he was watching them, noting their habits and the work they did. He kept them in flower-pots in his home that he might watch them day and night, he got his fi-iends to watch them too and te 1 him what they had seen, and he sent to his naturalist friends all over the world requests for information about the habits of the worms in their own countries, in India, Ameiica, Australia, and through all Eui-ope. Just think of what a change in the attitude of men to the worm this signified — the foremost men of science of the time all engaged in studying its habits. Then in 1881 Darwin published his book 'Earth- worms,' and for the first time we understood all that we owed to these creatures we had hitherto regarded with contempt. Then we understood that were it not for them liie would be impossible on the earth, and that Job had given utterance to a great truth when he called the worm his mother. We speak of the earth as the motb.er of us all, but the earth could not support a living thing were it not for the worms that break it up and make it fit to sustain all that lives in it and on it. What do worms do ? What use are they in the earth .'* To put it generally, I would say they enable every living thing to grow. Take the case of any plant that grows in the ground. The greater part of its food it takes up by means of its roots which go down into the soil. But suppose that the soil were as dry and hard as a piece of iron, what would happen to the poor plant ? Why, it could not draw a single atom of food from the ground and would die. Now the little worm as it bores its way through the ground breaks it up, lets the refreshing rain get into the soil and so moisten the roots ; it grinds down the earth itself as we break down food for the little folks in order that the plant may take it in : it brings down decayed leaves and other matter which acts as manure for the plant ; and it throws up to the surface the earth which has passed through its body and which is now rich in material for the no;u-ishment of every green thing. Although they are small they are very numerous. Darwin tells us that there are over fifty thousand of them to the acre of ground, and that, in the course of a year, these busy little workers will Kay about ten tons of fresh soil over every acre. Surely Job was wiser than he knew when he said to the worm, ' Thou art my mother '. Is there not a very real sense in which this is true ? Do we not, under the wise working of God, owe our very life to these humble creatures ? Is there not a lesson here for us in our pride and seeming independence that on 230 Ver. 14. JOB XVI I., XXII Ver. 21. the work of these little insti"uments of God our life depends ? Let us now sum up what we have been saying about the worm by emphasising two plain lessons it teaches us. First of all it bears witness to the significance of common things. We begin by pointing out how, for centuries, the worm had been regarded as so common and despised a creature as to be beneath the notice of anyone un- less it was needed, as Job needed it, as a symbol for abasement. We end up by finding that this common- place reptile is one of the most important creatures God has made. What a mistake the world has been maldng for all these years ! But how do we know that this is the only mistake that has been made about commonplace things? How do we know that there are no works of God lying at our very feet that miuht rouse us to worship and adoration if we only understood their place and meaning- in the great world of nature ? Pliny in his Natural History says, ' Let not things because they are common enjoy for that the less share of our consideration '. That sounds in itself a very commonplace remark ; but it is a profound truth to all students of Nature. But it is true, not merely in the sphere of science, but for all who try to undei-stand the way of God in the world of daily life and experience ; and there is no truth we are so apt to forget. Let me tell you a story to show what a wrong point of view the most of us have with regard to so-called common things, whether they be actual works of God or experiences of life. Some years ago a steamer going from New York to Liverpool was burned on the voyage. A boat-load of passengers succeeded in leaving the ship and were saved, and among them was a minister belonging to Dublin. When he returned from his ill-omened voyage he was the hero of the hour, antl told his thrilling story far and near with great effect. He used to dwell especially on the signal mark of God's favour and mercy he had received in being picked out from among so many and saved from death. It was a marvellous and special providence that had so cared for him and preserved him. He never told his story without dwelling on this aspect of it, the uncommon mercy of God, as he might have called it. One day he" was recounting his strange experience to a company of people among whom was the great Archbishop Whatclv. When he came to the end and made the usual remarks about the extraordinary providence that had snatched him from the burning ship and spared his life, Whately turned to him and said : ' A wonderful occurrence ! A great and signal mercy indeed ! But I think I can surpass the wonder of it with an incident from my own experience.' Every- body pricked up his ears and listened for the passage in tlie Archbishop's life which should show a yet more marvellously merciful escape than that of this minister from the the burning ship. Whately went on in the ex|iressive manner for which he was celebrated : ' Not three months ago I sailed in the packet from Holyhead to Kingstown, and ' — a pause, while the Archbishop took a copious pinch of snuff, and his hearers were on the tip-toe of expectation — ' and, by God's mercy, the vessel never caught fire at all. Think of that, my friend.' You see the moral of such a story as this. The Dublin minister did well to marvel at the goodness of God in saving his life in such a remarkable manner, but Whately did better in reminding him that it is not in the outstanding and remarkable experiences of life alone that we may trace the finger of God, but in the common mercies of our common day. II. The other lesson I should like to emphasise is, the power of small things. What a frail, soft creature the worm is. How easily you can crush it. How unfit it seems for the work it has to do in the hard, unyielding earth. And yet what a work it does ! And we have seen only a very small part of it after all, but we have surely seen enough to convince us that God can use verv small and humble means to reach His great ends in the world. As an eloquent preacher said : ' The world's Ruler defeated Pharaoh with frogs and flies ; He humbled Israel with the grasshopper ; He smeared the splendour of Herod with worms ; on the plains of Russia He broke the power of Napoleon with a snowflake. God has no need to despatch an arch- angel ; when once He is angry a microbe will do.' In another of his books this same preacher emphasises this lesson from the point of view of what man can do. He says : ' The modest daisy was sufficient theme to secure for Burns a place amid the innnortals ; a single string stretched on a wooden shoe was all that Paganini needed to demonstrate the master minstrel ; and a bit of canvas, a few inches square, was ample to testify to all generations that Raphael was the prince of painters '. A sermon is not of much use unless it has a practi- cal application. What practical point is there here that one might apply to one's small hearers ? Surely it is the power, the great, unknown power that dwells even in such as you. The greatest men that ever lived began life just in the same way as you begin it, with the same childish weaknesses and follies, and at an early age probably showed very little signs of future greatness. How are we to know that in our midst we may not have in the person of a little child, perhaps your companion, perhaps yourself, another of the great ones of the earth ? We cannot tell ; all we know is that from seemingly weak and insignifi- cant persons and things have come most of the great achievements that have won the admiration of the world. — J. Thomson, The Six Gates, p. 131. CEASE YOUR QUARREL ' Acquaint now thyself with him, and be at peace ; thereby good shall come to thee.' — Job xxii. 21. I. God and the Fallen Soul are out of Friendly Acquaintanceship.— When God came down into para- dise before the Fail, Adam and Eve ran delightedly to meet Him and worship Him. His voice and footstep 231 Ver. 21. JOB XXII Ver. 21. were to them like what a beloved father's are. But after the Fall, you recollect, when they heai'd Him walk- ing in the garden in the cool of the day, they were afraid, and ran to hide themselves. They got behind the trees, that they might have a screen between them and a face they feared to see. That was what sinning did for them. All men are by nature in that state hid- ing away behind the trees. Travellers in the Alps, among the snows and glaciers, sometimes come all of a sudden to the edge of a wide, deep crack in the ice, and start back appalled at the dark, sounding chasm that stretches between them and the other side. Sin has opened a gulf like that between God and souls. It has raised great black clouds to hide from man's heai-t the bright sun. And so long as people go on in sin, the clouds get the thicker and the blacker. If, on a dark day, people were to say, The sun is out of sight, let us kindle great fires to help the daylight that is struggling through the clouds, what would be the result? The smoke from the huge fires would go up and blacken the face of the sky more than evei-. So when men try to do without God, the cloud between Him and them is getting always the thicker. There are several very dark things in that cloud. There is ignorance of God. There is dread of God. There is hatred of God. Then God, on His side, does not know man. You must not mistake me. God sees all men ; knows all about them ; knows them better than they know themselves; and, as the Psalm says, is 'acquainted with all ' their ' ways '. Moreover, God does not hate men as sinners hate Him. We must on no account conceive of God as in heart our enemy. That would be to take Satan's way of looking at Him. It is the great eiTor of men to take that view. They turn their backs on their Father, and walk away from Him, and they think He must have done the same ; or if He looks after them, it must be to send thunderbolts to slay them. But they mistake. God is looking after them in pity. He is crying. Return, O back- sliding children ! But all the while that they are going away from Him he cannot take pleasure in them. He cannot delight in their ways. And if they will not return, he must leave them to their folly. You know how very tenderly a mother loves her child, how much pleasure she has in looking at it, talking to it, caressing it. But if her child die, for all the love she has for it, she must bury it out of sight. She may keep its little clay in the house for a few days, but even her love must let it be carried away at last, and laid in the cold, dark earth. Now, sinners are in God's sight dead ; their souls are cor- iTjpt; God cannot take pleasure in them ; and if they refuse to be quickened, and come back. He must bury them at length away in the 'outer darkness,' where the ' worm dieth not '. II. There is a Way of having: Friendship between Ood and the Soul Restored. — After sin had broken up communion with God, man would neither have earnestly wished to naake the quarrel up, nor could he have been able to do so. God did not make the breach. He did not go away from us till we left Him. He dill not break His covenant Man did. Even, therefore, if man had sought back, it was for God to say whether He would allow him to stay again among His holy children, and in what way He would permit it. But man, as I have said, would not have sought back. The way of reconciling man must come from God Himself It has come, and we should wonder at the grace which has made it known to us. Suppo.se a boy expelled from school for disobedient and wicked conduct. Would it not be kind enough if the master should agree to receive him on his coming back of his own accord, and knocking at the door, and asking humbly for admission? But what would you say of the kindness of his teacher if he were to go forth to the boy, and talk with him, and plead with him, to bring him to a right state of mind, and to re- store him to his place in the .school ? More than all this God has done to bring sinners back to Him- self The way to be in friendship with God is to love Jesus. God so loves Jesus, for what He is and for what He has done and suflered, that He cannot but love every one who loves Him. Jesus tells us so Him- self He says, ' He that loveth Me shall be loved of My Father'. Solomon, in Eccksiastes, tells us that the spirit at death ' returns to God who gave it.' Now, when a soul goes into God's pi'esence after death to receive judgment according to its character, it is as if God asked, Does this soul love Jesus ? If not, He cannot allow it to enter heaven ; if it does, He can- not keep it out of heaven. III. It is your Duty and your Happiness to be Reconciled to Qod. — It is your duty. Do now be re- conciled, for it is right. He made you. He died to ieconcile vou. You breathe His air, you wear His clothes, you eat His bread, you see His light, you speak beciiuse He enables you. You are nothing without Him. It must surely be very wicked to live at enmity with Him. It is very miserable, too. It is your life to know Him. There are some men whose faces it is a joy to see. If a home is at all what it should be, what a pleasure the father's face gives in it ! Could the child be happy, think ye, any more than he could be good, who should go out and in at his fiather's door every day, sleep under his roof, eat from his table, but never speak to him unless he could not hel]i it, steal out of his presence whenever he could, and show in every way that he had no regard for him ? Thousands in God's world are doing that. But happy are all who do otherwise. Their Father is so glorious and good, that to see His face is peace and gladness. The text says, that by getting acquainted with God good shall come to us. We shall have a good income, is the word. So we shall, for everything shall be bring- ing in to us. The day, the night, the winter, the summer, friends, enemies, angels, trials, mercies, life, death — all shall contribute to make us blest. For, ' if God be for us, who can be against us ? ' — J. Edmond, The Children's Church at Home, p. 258. 232 Ver. 6. JOB XXIIL, XXXIV Ver. 33. A PARABLE IN CLAY (A Message for the New Year) 'I am formed out of the day.' — Joe xxui. 6. Ohject — A piece of meddler's clay. I HOLD in my hand a piece of clay, soft and pliable. Inside is a piece of silver, which re])iesents the treasure hidden in the clay, typical of the soul. Christ Jesus came to earth in the form of clay. 'Verily He took our nature upon Him.' Now first I shall speak of the token clay, and secondly, ot the treasure which the clay contain.s. \Vhat Christ revealed in the clay. Conformed to Mis Father's Likeness. — The ex- press imaue of the invisible God. Very often people say of a child, he is the perfect image of his father. Loyal to His Father's WiU. — At His baptism God said, ' This is My Beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased '. The motto of one of the most honoured of God's servants, Earl Cairns, was, ' God claims vou '. Attractive with His Father's Word. — ' He spake as one having authority.' A boys comment on a powerful preacher was, ' He makes a fellow listen '. Yielding Himself to His Father at Calvary. — 'Into Thy Hands I commit my spirit.' Now I take the clay and break it, and draw fi'om it this new shilhng. The shilling is a good type for this first Sunday in the year, because it is made up of twelve parts, there are twelve months in the year, and are there not twelve hours in the dav ? The words on the clock at the Head-quarters of the Salvation Army in London are, ' Every hour for Jesus '. Boys and girls, you contain the treasure for which He has died — a soul for service all the year. I close with an original appeal : — Twelve pence make a shilling-, Buys and girls be up and willina: ; Twenty shillings make a pound. Always in God's work abound. — A. G. Weli.er, Sunday Gleams, p. 78 MINE OR THINE? ' Should it be according to thy mind ? '—Job xxxiv. 33. Job was an old scholar, but he had got out of school for a while and fancied he was to be always now his own master. But it was not so, and the great Teacher — God — saw that there were some very important things he needed still to learn, and so He sent him back to school. Now, an old scholar doesn't take kindly to going back to school. It takes one down so much, you know, to be made just like the rest after we have put on airs and counted ourselves something better. So Job fretted a good de,il, and was a bit sore at heart (all of which showed there were some lessons he had still to learn), and Elihu, his friend, was sorry for him, and tried to show him that things were just as they should have been. ' For,' said Elihu, ' who should know be.-'t what is right to do — Teacher or Job? Should the lesson be accordin;^ to thy mind, or ac- coiding to the Teacher's!' And Job came at last quite to understand this, and then he mastered his lesson finely. ' Should it be according to thy mind ? ' Ask your- self that, my child, wheneveranything hard or difficult is set before you. There are some things we can pick and choose, but there are some things we can't. You can say, 'I would rather join the French class than the German one.' liut once yon have joined vou can't say, ' I would rather learn this way than that way '. There is only one way for you then — and that's the teacher's way — not yours. Fine dunces we would all be if we shaped our own way of learning ! Tommy would never find time to master the alphabet, he would be so busy in trying to find out easier wavs of doing it ; and Annie would nevt r master her scales, she would get so confused with her own notions of learning them. In all these things every one has to say to himself, ' Should it be according to mv mind ? ' and only when he learns that it shouldn't be, but should be according to the teacher's, does he ever begin to learn properly. Now, this is a very good thing to remember for the school you go to every morning, but it is also a very good thing to remember for a school which is bigger than that one — a school you will never get out of all your day.s — the big, big school of the world's work It sounds almost like a puzzle, but I think the meaning is quite plain : that it is just when you leave school you go into school, for it is then, when we go out into the world, that our real lessons begin. So you must think of this when you are there too — when the lessons are hard, and the page has some- times to be stained with tears, and we are inclined to fancy that things aren't right— that is the right time to put this question to the heart — ' Should it be ac- cortling to thy mind, or according to God's ? ' For it is God who is wanting to teach us and train us for what we can do best, for the very best that we ever possibly can do — which will be best for us and best for Him. And He can't teach ns imless we are willing to let Him do it in His own way. Do you remember about Joseph ? God wanted to make him good and great (good and great, please ob- serve, not gieat and good — for God makes no one great who doesn't first learn to be good — and it is because men don't notice this they are always making mistakes). And how did He manage it? Not as we would have tried. We would have made every- thing plea.sant and nice, and spared him all trouble and pain, and in the end Joseph would most likely have been conceited and soft, and unfitted to do a thorough day's honest work all his life. And the wise Teacher knew all this, and so He first taught Joseph to trust Him. That was the lesson he learnt in the pit. Then .He taught him how to be inde- pendent, and keep to his God though everybody else was an idolater and laughed at him. That was the lesson he learnt in the prison. So, page on page Ver. 6. JOB XXXVII Ver. 6. strange lessons were given to Joseph, and some were very hard to learn, but he mastered them all one by one ; then, when he was ready for it, God found him a great situation — next to the throne. It would have been no use giving him that situation before — he couldn't have kept it. But he could and did keep it when he had gone through his education, and then, when he looked back he saw how good it was that his lessons had been given him according to God's mind, and not according to his own. And was it not so with David— the shepherd's boy who was made a king ? Wasn't it so with Paul — who had to unlearn a deal to make room for some- thing better? Yes, it has been so with everybody who has ever done God's work rightly and bravely in the world, and laid him down at last to sleep, with Something attempted, something done, To earn a niglit's repose. These were all made what they became by being willing to let the Great Teacher set their lessons for them. Even Jesus, God's own dear Son, did so. How difficult His lessons were ! To do good, and get hated for it ; to seek to save, and find so many wanting to destroy Him for it ; to love God with all His heart, and yet to be sent to the cruel cross ! Ah ! His were hard lessons, but you know, the harder the task, the more honour when it is done. And Jesus got the honour, and is getting it now, for He is exalted to the throne, and made our Prince and Saviour. When things were at their worst with Him He understood thev should not be according to His mind, but according to God's, and so He said, ' Not My will, but Thine be done'. Would you wish to have things according to your mind ? Then there is only one way for doing that safely — it is by letting the same mind be in you that is in Jesus. When He and you are of one mind everything will be right and will please you, but if He and you are of different minds, you can only have pain and trouble, and nothing can be right. Don't look for smooth things only and easy tasks, be ready for rough and hard ones too. The Teacher knows best ; if it is according to His mind, then it must be right, as we shall one day know. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's AngeL, p.' 10. THE SNOW ' For He saith to the snowr, Fall thou on the earth.' — Job x.xxvn. 6. You have played so much in the snow that I wish to talk to you about it; for it is a wonderful thing and a beautiful thing. It is so wonderful a thing that if you had never seen a snowstorm in your life, you would be frightened at the falling flakes, or dance with delight in trying to catch them. It is so wonderful that if you were to go to any part of the earth where there is no snow in winter and tell them what you have seen, they would not believe you. If you should tell the' boys and girls there that in your country you could take water in your hands, make it into round balls and throw them at one another in mimic battle ; that you could build forts of it with high walls all round ; that you could form houses out of it and build fires inside them ; that you could roll it up into huge balls as high as your head ; that you could shovel a path through it with banks on both sides ; that you could fashion it into the image of a man with legs, arms, head, nose, and eyes, do you think they would be'ieve what you say ? And if you should tell them you had seen the water driven by the wind into great drifts on the top of which you could walk ; that you had great sport in sliding down the hills on the snow ; that it would lodge on the roofs of the houses and stay there for many days ; that it would heap itself up on the limbs of the trees until they would bend to the ground or break off; that it would form a ridge on the telegraph wires ; that you could skate over it on iron, — why, what do you think they would say to your story ? Would they believe you ? Perhaps they would fetch some water iind say to you : ' Make this into balls and throw them at us ; cut piths through this water ; heap it up in ridges on the limbs of trees ; fashion it into the form of a man with legs and hands, and head and eyes, and we will believe you, but not till then'. Then you would cry out : ' Oh, it is water frozen into snow and ice that I was telling you about '. And they would say : ' Freeze this water into snow or ice and we will believe you, but not till then '. How could you make them believe what you say ? They had never seen snow or ice or frost which you have St en so often. You could not turn water into snow or ice, and they would regard you as a great liar. You would have told them the truth, but they would not believe you because they had never seen what is so common to you, and because snow is such a wonderful thing. Foi- snow is moisture or water freezing in the air ; and ice is frozen water on the ground or river. You breathe on a warm day, and you do not see your breath at all ; but you go out some cold morning, and your breath looks like a cloud of smoke. Why? Because the moisture or water in your warm breath meets the cold air and becomes a cloud of fog for a moment, then it freezes and falls to the ground us frost. Job says in the tenth verse of the chapter from which the text is taken : ' By the breath of God frost is given '. He likens God to a great man breath- ing over all the land, and the ground is covered with white frost, the frozen breath of God. When a warm cuirent of air meets a cold current, the water in the air freezes and falls as snow. And so Job says, ' God saith to the snow. Be thou on the earth,' and the ground is covered as with a clean white garment. And snow is very beautiful ; when the moisture or water in the air freezes, it forms the most beautiful crystals and falls to the ground. These crystals are in many forms and sizes. One man examined and 234 Ver. 13. JOB XXXIX Ver. 27. pictured nearly a hundred different forms of the crystals. If you catch a large flake on a still day and look at it through a magnifying glass or a micro- scope, you will see a thing of beauty, but not a joy for ever ; for it will soon melt into water. If you look into Webster's largest dictionary, you will find pictui'es of the crystals of snow and can see how beautiful they are. So if you look at the frost marks on the window glass some cold morning, you will find most beautiful tracings, made by the crystals of water when freezing. You cannot draw anything so beauti- ful. Snow is white and clean when it falLs, and so it is made to stand for cleanHness or purity. The clothes of angels are said in the Bible to be as white as snow ; and white is worn by boys and girls, men and women, as a sign of purity. Job speaks in one place of washing himself in snow water, and making his hands never so clean. So you should have white, clean hands and faces, and should keep your clothes clean ; so that snow may be a symbol of your purity. — A. Hastings Ross, Sermons to Children, p. 255. FEATHERS Job XXXIX. 13. The question, ' Gavest Thou the goodly wings unto the peacocks, or wings and feathers unto the ostrich ' ' occurs in the Book of Job (A. V.). Did you ever think about wings and feathers ? There is a great deal to be learned about them, far too much for one little talk indeed. Suppose we think of feathers only. Somebody has asked what a wise man would say, who had never seen a bird, if he had a plucked partridge set before him, and was requested to invent some kind of clothing for it which should be light and warm, proof against wet, and suitable for flying- through the air. It would be a great puzzle, I think, A feather is a wonderful bit of God's workmanship. You have waved one about, and found how strongly it resists the air. Did you examine it in order to see how that happens ? Well, you could not do that very easily. You need a strong magnifying-glass. Get one as soon as you can, and look at a feather through it. You will see that every barb of the feather, every one of the hair-like things which grow out from each side of the quill, has little barblets growing out from it, and those barblets have lesser barblets growing out from them, and that they hook into one another as you can hook your fingers together when you clasp your hands. A learned naturalist has reckoned that there must be in one good-sized eagle feather fifty-four millions of branches and barb- lets and threads ! You will not be so very much astonished by his calculation when you have looked at a feather with your own eyes under a magnifying- glass. The wing-feathers of any bird which can fly are like woven things, so closely are the tiny barblets fitted into one another ; if it were not so, flii;ht would be almost impossible. In a bird's wing the feathers are so arranged that they lap under one another from the outside of the wing to the body, so that when the bird strikes downwards they are firmly pressed together, and the whole wing, which is hollow like the bowl of a spoon, encloses a wingful of air, and as this is forced out behind, where the tips of the feathers are yielding and elastic, he is driven upwards and forwards. When, however, he lifts his wing again, the feathers turn edgeways and are separated, so that the air passes through them, and he still rises while preparing for the next sti'oke. You imitate the action when you ' feather ' your oar in rowing, and that is how you get the word for the movement. If it were not for this arrangement, the upstroke of the wing would sink the bird downward nearly as much as the downstroke sends it upward. But this is talk- ing of ' wings,' and we must keep to 'feathers'. You may ask of what feathers are made. Of the same substance as your hair and your finger-nails, and the scales on the leg of a bird or the body of a snake or a lizard, and the white of an egg. Perhaps you have noticed how water rolls off the glossy skin of an egg which has been boiled and shelled, and you have often noticed how quickly a bird's feathers are dry after bathing. I wish I could explain to you how a feather grows, but I am afraid that is impossible without pictures. Make a note in your memory about the subject. But I may tell you that everv feather is made by being run into a mould, as candles or iron castings are. While its substance is liquid, it flows into hollow spaces prepared for it in a sheath or cylinder. Think of the delicacy of a mould in which the barbs and barblets of a feather are fashioned ! Enough has been said, perhaps, to set you thinking about feathers, but a word may be added on the beauty of them. Have you examined a feather from the train of a peacock, and noted how every separate barb is coloured so as to make part of the pattern, how every ' eye ' with its nine or ten rings of colour is formed of distinct barbs ? If you have done so, you have felt that this could not be chance-work, but that a great Designer gave each thread its proper colour in the proper place, so that all together should make the beautiful pattern. And perhaps you re- member that an old-time Psalmist bids us hope that the Almighty will cover us with His feathere, and that under His wings we may be in safety. — John A. HAMrLTON, The Wonderful River, p. 143. THE EAGLE ' Doth the eagle mount up at thy command, and make her nest on high ?' — Job xxxix. 27. Jehovah is answering Job out of the whirlwind. He brings before him a gi-and panorama of external nature — the earth and sea, snow and hail, the Pleiades and the lightning — the wild goat, the wild ass, the ostrich, the hawk, and the eagle ; and as the glorious pageant defiles before his eyes, he forces him to face and answer the question : Shall mortal man be more just than God ? Shall he that contendeth with the Almighty instruct Him ? He that reproveth God, let him answer'. And Job's answer is all that could be de- Ver. 27. JOB XXXIX Ver. 27. sired : ' Behold, I am vile : what shall I answer Thee ? 1 will lay mine hand upon my mouth.' The great- ness of God in nature has taught man his own utter insignificance. Doth the eagle mount up at thy command ? No. All these pictures point man to God. They combine to illustrate the mitid and thought of Him who formed them and cares for them. So that the conclusion of Ruskin is more than justified that the universe is not a mirror that reflects to proud self-love her own intelli- gence. It is a mirror that reflects to the devout soul the attributes of God. I. The Rock-dwelling Habits of the Eagle. — ' She dwelleth and abideth on the rock, upon the crag of the rock and the strong place' (ver. 28). It is to this that Obadiah refers when he takes up his parable against the Edomites. They too were rock-dwellei-s, who had made for themselves houses and founded cities in the rocky fastnesses of Mount Seir. But they are reminded that the impregnable and inaccessible heights to which they have resorted will be no defence against Jehovah : 'Though thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and though thou set thy nest among the stars, thence will I bring thee down, saith the Lord '. It is even added that Edom would become utterly desolate : 'As thou hast done, it shall be done unto thee, . . . and there shall not be any remaining of the house of Esau '. And if the testimony of modem travellei-s may be accepted, the desolation is mournful enough. In 1848 Miss Harriet Martineau visited Petra, the chief of these rock-cities, and describes it as follows : 'Nowhere el.se is there desolation like that of Petra, where these rock doorways stand wide — still fit for the habitation of a multitude, but all empty and silent except for the multiplied echo of the cry of the eagle, or the bleat of the kid. No; these excavations never were all tombs. In the morning the sons of Esau came out in the first sunshine to worship at their doors, before going forth, proud as their neighbour eagles, to the chase ; and at night the yellow fires lighted up from within, tier above tier, the face of the precipice' {Eastern Life, vol. in. 5). The Edomite, alas ! is gone, though the eagle is still left, and she fixes her habitation on the dizzy crag. II. The Acuteness of the Eagle's Sight. — ' From thence she seeketh the prey, and her eyes behold afar off' (ver. 29). The eye of a bird is a marvellous structure. It is a telescope and microscope combined. It has the power of compressing the lens to adapt it to varying distances ; and is larger in proportion than the eye of quadrupeds. The kestrel hawk, for instance, feeds on the common field mouse ; but this tiny crea- ture is so like the colour of the soil, that a human eye could scarcely detect it at the distance of a few yards. The kestrel, however, has no such difficultv. Her telescopic eye sees it from the sky overhead, and like a bolt from the blue, she swoops down upon the helpless prey. No mistake is made as she nears the ground. Swiftly and almost instantaneously the tele- scope is compressed into the microscope, and the dar- ing freebooter could pick up a pin. The same power is possessed by the Griffin vultu or 'eagle' of Holy Scripture. 'Her eyes behold afar off.' A dozen eagles may be soaring upwards in the sunlight, until they become mere specks against the blue of heaven, but they are carefully watching each other in their wheeling circles, and diligently scanning the desert below in the hope of discovering some prey. The moment the object is sighted, and even one bird has made a swoop downwards, the movement is detected by the one nearest, which im- mediately follows ; while the second is followed by a third, and the third by a fourth, until in a few minutes, ' wheresoever the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered together '. Their vast power of wing and acuteness of sight have led them to the prey. And the lesson is not far to seek. In the Cai'lyle use of the word it emphasises the need of being able to see. ' To the poet, as to every other, we say first of all, see. If you cannot do that, it is of no use stringing rhymes together and calling yourself a poet, there is no hope for you.' And in religion it is the pure in heart that see God. If the inner eye be single, the whole body shall be full of light. The aged seer on Patmos saw into the heaven of heavens Like Paul, he heard words not lawful to be uttered ; and thus in the symbolism of the Christian Church, he is known as the New Testament eagle. He was the one who ' saw more and heard more, but spake less than all the other disciples '. But all the saints of God may soar and see in some measure as he did — Ou eagles' wings, they mount, they soar, Their wings are faith and love. Till past the cloudy regions here They rise to heaven above. III. The Eagle and her Young. — ' Her young ones also suck up blood, and where the slain are, there is she ' (ver. 30) . The eagle is one of the most rapacious of birds, and her terrible instincts are transmitted to her young, which ' sii^ck up blood '. This is heredity in its most awful form, and is well fitted to shadow forth the grim heritage of woe which is handed down to t/iei'r children by the drunkard, the libertine, and the thief. But in any form the thought is a solemn one, forcing even the Psalmist to wail, 'Behold, I was sliapen in iniquity, and in sin did my mother con- ceive me'. The fountain of the life is polluted, as well as the streams — 'Her young ones also suck up blood '. But this is not the only way in which the eagle in- fluences her young. Allusion is frequently made to the way in which she supports them in their first essays at flight. When the tired fledgling begins to flutter downwards she is said to fly beneath it, and present her back and wings for its support. And this becomes a beautiful illustration to the saci-ed writers of the paternal care of Jehovah over Israel : 'As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings : so the Lord alone did 236 Ver. 1. JOB XLl Ver. 1. lead them and there was no strange god with them ' (Deut. xxxiT. 12). ' I bare you on eagles' wings, and brought you unto Myself (Eiod. xix. 4). Let ours be the holv ambition to be worthy of that care. — John Adams, Kingless Folk, p. 145. THE CROCODILE ' Leviathan.' — Job xli. i. I. The crocodile is a very repulsive-looking creature. It is a great mercy that some dangerous creatures look dangerous. You have only to look at the crocodile to feel satisfied that his mission is not a very kindly one. His head and jaws are flattened into the form of a triangle, and that is never a good sign. Indeed, you only need look at his great jaws, opening up to the very end of the skull, and his teeth without the decency of having lips to cover them, to conclude that his forte is eating. His glaring eyes, his scaly skin, his flat feet, and the hideous way in which he crawls along, also soon convince you that he is not a very lovable creature or desirable neigh- bour. Now there are questions asked about this creature in this chapter which suggest other facts about him. The first is, ' Canst thou draw out a leviathan with a hook ? ' This suggests : — II. The crocodile is not caught as easily as some creatures. You can catch fish, and often very large ones, with a hook that has a bait upon it. But you cannot do that with the crocodile : it requires a ver}' exceptional hook to lay hold of him, and a very strong cord and arm to pull him up when he is caught. But there is a further question : ' or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down ? ' You cannot put a loop upon a cord and fasten it upon the croco- dile's tongue, because it is joined to his jaw all along except just at the margin. You cannot manage this unmanageable creature. III. He is difficult to wound. His skin is covered with bones or with horny substances, which are joined together all along the back, so that we are told an ordinary bullet will not penetrate it. You must have a bullet tipped with steel, and shot from a first- class rifle, before you can make any headway through that coat of mail. There is also a reference in the Psalms to the strength of his skull and jawbones. It is almost impossible to crush them. IV. The crocodile is terrible to behold. In the East his eyes are made to represent the rising sun, partly because they are so brilliant, and partly be- cause they are the first to appear when this creature rises out of the water, as they are fixed very high upon the skull. What a sight to see two glaring eyes above the water when little else of the ugly monster is in sight ! Then, when his jaws appear arrayed with teeth, which, as I have said, have no lips to cover them, he appears still more hideous. There is a reference here to a double row of teeth. By that we are to understand that the crocodile has practically a double set of teeth; for those he uses have hollows at their roots filled by other young teeth, which are ready to take their places when they fall off". So that you see this creature grows teeth in abundance. Moreover, as this monster emerges out of the water or mud, the more you see of him the more repulsive he appears. His feet, his scales, and terrible tail, all add to the loathsomeness of his appearance. One finds a difficulty sometimes in knowing what such creatures are for. One is apt to come to a con- clusion that, though almost all creatures have a pur- pose in life, there can be no great good of a crocodile ever living, except, perhaps, supplying skin for purses and fancy hand-bags. The vultures that watch this creature laying its eggs in the sand or mud would not agree with us in that opinion, for as soon as it leaves the spot they enjoy the eggs immensel)'. They no doubt feel strongly that a crocodile is good for something. It depends what standpoint we take in deciding whether a creature is of any good or not. But I have no doubt that we shall find by and by that the crocodile may be made of greater service than we have yet thought possible. I have often wondered at the man who found out that the tortoise was good for anything — especially for soups, of all things on the face of the earth. Who, in looking at the tortoise, would think of making soup of such a creatm'e ? The man who first thought of that possibility must have been a very ingenious and clever man, and we owe a great deal to him. Therefore, we must not come to the conclu- sion at once that there is no possible good in the existence of the crocodile, especially when we have already learnt to set great value on his skin. V. The crocodile in some senses is a very helpless creature. Gnats enter his mouth, sting him merci- lessly, and almost drive him mad ; and natives, who know that he cannot tum his head round to the right or to the left, slip on one side and ride on his back, knowing that he is perfectly helpless. What a mercy it is that such terrible creatures have their weak points ! VI. The crocodile is a creature that needs to be watched. Its eggs and its young appear very harm- less. Again, even when full grown the crocodile is dormant at times and sleeps in the mud ; but when people see the mud rise here and there in the form of mounds they keep at a respectable distance, for they know that the sleeping crocodile is waking and may soon be upon them. VII. The crocodile, hideous and terrible as he is, is ivorsliipped by many. But, you say, there is nothing about him that would draw our reverence. No, but those who worshij) the crocodile worship him from fear. We cannot well undei-stand that. We worship Him whom we love. One of the charms of our religion is that love casts out fear. We know that Jesus Christ is a Saviour Who loves us with an everlasting love. We know that He has died that we may live, and therefore our religion is a religion of love ; but the poor people who worship the croco- 237 Ver, 1. JO B XLI Ver. 1. dile, have a very different kind of religion. They worship the terrible. They have no love for their God ; they only wor.ship from fear, and theiefore do they worship the crocodile, that loathsome scaly creature, twenty-five or thirty feet long, the terror of every one who looks at him. Now, the Egyptians feel that after all there is no pity in the heart of a crocodile. I suppose they doubt veiy much whether he has a heart. The tears of the crocodile, as you know, are proverbial. I do not know whether he sheds tears ; but if he does they are not worth much : they do not denote much pity. The Egyptians look upon the crocodile as a god who cannot weep from any sympathy, and who cannot have a tender re- gard for those who worship him. They worship him because they fear and dread him. What a sad condition those people must be in who can have no better god than this hideous, crawling, pitiless croco- dile to worship. What a iiiei-cy, then, that we can look up and realise that our God is our Father, and the Father of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ; that He loves us with infinite love ; and that wherever we go in life, and whatever our experience is, He watches over us, not with the cruel eye of a creature who seeks our hurt, but with the tender, sympathetic look of One ^Vho ever seeks our highest good, even our salvation from sin and all its woe I^David Da vies. Talks with Men, Women, and Children (6th Series), p. 182. PSALMS A BIBLE PICTURE ' Like a tree planted by the rivers of water.' — Psalm i. 3. I WAS staving for a few days on the banks of the Hudson, in America, and my host drove me to see some rocks called the Palisades. It was one of the hottest days of summer. The road went up through half-cleared brushwood and forest. The grass, the wayside flowers, the leaves on the trees, had a withered and sickly look. The labourers in the fields seemed to be weighted with lead as they swung their scythes. The horse was covered with sweat. And we ourselves had long since sunk into silence, anxious only to shelter our heads from the pitiless heat. Sudden! v we passed into a cooler air. The shadow of great ti'ees covered us ; and my host halted his horse to let it cool. ' Come this way,' he said, when he had made horse and wagonette fast to a fence. And he led the way through the trees and down a footpath into a hollow, where there was a spring of the clearest and coolest water. The brushwood leaves had made a rich border all around its edges, but underneath the water stole and made a way for itself down the centre of the hollow and beyond, until we could see the gleam of it shining like a thread of light for several hundred yards. As we sat in this delicious coolness enjoying both the water and the shade, I was struck with the differ- ence of the leaves in this hollow with those we had seen by the way. They were green and fresh like the leaves of spring. Then I remembered a word in Jeremiah about 'the man that trusteth in the Lord and whose hope the Lord is, that he shall be like a tree planted by the waters, that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when trial cometh ; but her leaf shall be green '. And I said to myself, 'Here in this hollow, on the banks of the Hudson, is the very picture which Jeremiah saw long ago in the East, and it is showing forth still, to all who will see it, the beauty, the freshness, and the joy of being a child of God '. It is a Bible picture; and among Bible pictures there is none more beautiful or true. 'Like a tree planted by the watei-s.' How fair, how pleasant to the eye a tree so planted is I Its leaves do not wither ; its strength does not fail ; it brings forth its fruit in its season. And under its branches in hot days there is refreshing shade for both man and beast. And such as that is every child of God — so fair, so fresh, so fruitful to the very end of life. As the ninety- second Psalm says : ' They shall bring forth fruit in old age : they shall be fat and flourishing '. Where the prophet Ezekiel has to describe a multi- tude of God's children he uses the same picture. He describes a multitude of trees on the banks of a river. And he also tells how those trees come to be so fair and plentiful. It is because they are nourished by the river of the life of God in the world. And this river of the life of God in the world is just the Gos- pel. It is the Gospel, partly in the Bible and partly in the lives of God's people. Ezekiel takes us to the door of a church, and points to a tiny little spring of water trickling out from under the steps. As small a thing as that is the first preaching of the Gospel. It is a still small voice, a single word, a little thing sent out from the church — sent out into a new countr}' where nobody yet knows of God's love. But just as the .spring that trickles out of the earth becomes a little stream, and the little stream deepens at evei'y step — up to the ankles now, and now up to the knees — ^until by and by it becomes a great stream in which swimmers can swim, and fi.shermen cast their nets, so with the preaching of the Gospel. Once begun it spreads through the entire land ; and then, just as when a river has deepened and spread iu a land great trees spring up on its banks and make a fore.st, so, as the goodness of God's love comes to be talked about and carried from one to another over all the land, people who did not know God and did not care for Him are drawn to Him ; and tens, hundreds, and at last thousands are seen worshipping and serving Him with gladness of heart. The land is filled with them. On the old highway between Jerusalem and Baby- lon, in the days of the great King Solomon, lay a far- spreading wilderness. Travellers could find in it neither shelter, nor resting place, nor food. The King said, ' I will build a city for shelter and for rest in this wilderness'. Far up among the hills were springs and rivers of water. The King caused canals to be cut in the sides of the hills and along the plains to the heart of the wilderness. And there on the banks he planted palm trees for food and for shelter, and beside them streets of houses for refreshment and rest. And he called the new city Tadmor — the City of Palms ; but some time in after days it came to be called Palmyra. In the second Book of Chronicles it is called Tad- mor in the Wilderness. I once heard a minister preach from the text, ' The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree,' and he told the story of Tadmor. It is a long, long time since I heard that sermon. It was back in a time long past, when one or two old ministers chanted their sermons as if they were singing the prose psalms. And this minister said, singing as he spoke, that the 239 Ver. 3. PSALM I Ver. 3. storv of Tadmor in the wilderness was just a type, a parable, of the story of the Christian Church. ' Tadmor ! ' he exclaimed ; ' Tadmor in the Wilder- ness ! Palmyra, the City of Palms 1 The great King Solomon went up to the hills where the springs of water were, and made wells and tanks and waterways down into the waste places of the plain. And there he planted his palm trees. And under their shadow he built his houses and streets and walls. And it was a city in the wilderness ; a city for refreshment and rest ; and the weary traveller, hot with the toil of the desert and parched and hungry, saw the stately trees from afar, and rejoicing hasted on, and entering found shade and rest and food. That was Tadmor in the Wilderness, the city which the great King Solomon built — Palmyra, the City of Palms. ' And that is the story of Zion, the city of our God. Just that same purpose is served by its citizens in this wilderness of earth. They are set like palm trees for shade and for refreshment to poor travellers by the way, who have not yet found rest in God.' It is a picture of the same kind which John sets before us when he has to write down for us his visions of heaven. The citizens of heaven were just like those described by this old minister, and by Ezekiel, and by Jeremiah. They are planted by the river of God's life. There is in John as in Ezekiel a river ; but whereas in Ezekiel it is seen flowing out from under the steps of God's temple, in John it flows out from under His throne. But it is the same river — the river of God's life — that gives life to His people. And the picture of His people is also the sam^^ : on either side of the river was there a tree of life — living trees, many trees, but of one sort — trees with life in them — ' which bare twelve manner of fruit every month '. A river, river banks, trees on either bank, shade in summer heat, fruit in the time of fruit : a world as fair, as fruitful, as cool, as lovely as spreading fruit trees on river banks — that is the picture of heaven, and the picture of the people of heaven which John beheld in Patmos. And I cannot help thinking how sweet that picture would be for Joha He was a captive in the mines and quarries of Patmos, wearing the chain and toil- ing at the tasks of a captive. Day by day he would be driven out under the hot sun, with others chained Hke himself, to toil and suffer, shut in by the tossing waves of the bitter sea. How pleasant to him the visions sent by God of a quiet country which no sea shut in, which had a river of fresh water flowing through it, and river banks all covered with beautiful trees! That would seem to him just like heaven. And just like that, but fairer far, heaven will seem to all who enter it : A beautiful country ; God's life flowing through it like a river ; and God's children flourishing and bringing forth fruit like palm trees on the banks of a river; and all of them drinking up hfe from the river of the life of God, which is flowing even now, in this very world, in His Word and in the lives of His people, and in His Son Jesus Christ, and in that Holy Spirit which eveiy child may have for the jtsking. — A. Macleod, The Children's Portion, p. 283. DAVID'S EVERGREEN ' And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season ; his leaf also shall not wither ; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.' — Psalm i. 3. The banks of the Jordan near Jericho are lined with oleanders whose bright blossoms and dark green leaves give the place the appearance of a garden bordered by a plain which rears only scraggy brown shrubs. It is natural to fancy that the object-lesson in the first Psalm was suggested by the oleanders on the brink of the Jordan. I say suggested, for the Psalmist's ever- green, unlike the oleander and our evergreens, is a fruit-bearer. To a Jew the Jordan was the river of rivers, and the sight on its banks at the spot nearest Jerusalem is one not likely to be forgotten, as the beauty of the evergreens here is greatly heightened by the barrenness of the neighbouring plain. Your friends wish you to get out of life all the good you can, and to be among the best men and women under heaven. They wish each of you to be like David's evergreen, firmly rooted at the river's brink, always fair, and always flourishing. I want to show you how, by God s blessing, you may succeed in life ; and I shall speak to you about both the homeliest and the highest things. Success in life is our subject, and it has two parts : — ^ I. The secret of success. II. The crown of success. I. The Secret of Success. — It is, I believe, three- fold : Shun strong drink, love your work, follow Christ. 1. Shun strong drink as a beverage, shun it with your heart, shun it till your dying day. Thousands in our land began life as hopefully as you are doing, but by reason of strong drink they died miserably on a stair, or at a dyke back, or in the poorhouse ; and others in wealthy homes have had as sorrowful deaths. Our national intemperance may be likened to the Yellow River, which is called ' China's Sorrow '. Having no banks it eats away the soft soil, and carries desolation along its course. The love of strong drink has made the lives of millions utter failures. 2. Love your work. The boy who hates honest work, or whose study is to do as little as possible, is likely to go to the bad. It is hatred of work that chiefly fills our prisons and reformatories. Put your might into your work at school and after you leave school ; put your heart and conscience into it ; grow wai"m at it ; and you will prosper in body, mind, and soul. Make the love of work one of your guardian angels. It will help to make a man of any boy, and a man of the grandest mould. It is a sui-e sign of a noble spirit. Stanley and Schweinfurth, the African travellers, tell us that the inhabitants of the great forest in the 240 Ver. 3. PSALMS I., II Ver. 12. heart of Africa are dwarfs and not men, because they have not sunshine, good food, or hard work. Your idler is always a d wai'f of a man. Some foolish people ■do not know this. A Portuouese gentleman in Africa has the nail of his little finger uncut to show that he is above working with his hands. Have a real ambition to be first rate at your work, and 'to get to the top of your calling,' whatever it is. How hugely interesting anv bit of work grows ■when you try to do it well, and always a little better. That takes out of work all its hardness and brings you success. A Japanese ivory-carver was asked if he was not sorry to part with a beautiful work upon which he had spent many months. ' No,' was his fine reply, 'for I hope to make my next work still more beautiful.' ' How is James S getting on ? ' I once asked a merchant about a boy in his warehouse. ' Getting on!' he replied vigorously ; ' no fear of Aim getting on : that boy can't help getting on.' Now listen, for his next words lay bare one of the great secrets of success — ' He is as interested in everything about my warehouse as if it were all his own. It's a pleasure to have such a boy by one's side.' That boy put his religion into his work ; do you the same. You will then be able to say with Mackay of Uganda, ' Duty before pleasure, but my duty is pleasure'. 3. Follow Christ is the third secret of success in life, and it carries in its bosom all the others For you may gain earthly success, and yet your life may be an eternal failure. A man may slave for money and earthly fame, and may give his life and soul for them. Success is not that which brings the greatest happiness to the five senses, for any day you may have to live without your five senses. The millionaire may feel keenly on his death-bed that his life has been an utter failure. I never heard of a shroud with a pocket in it, for the dead rich man cannot take his money with him to give him a start in the other ■wcrld : such an idea has found a home only among the most benighted heathens. True success must thus embrace both our life on earth and the life to come. You feel sure that you would not wish to face death and judgment with nothing but earthly success in your right hand. At the battle of Waterloo Nathan Meyer Roths- child was in a shot-proof tent with a swift horse saddled and bridled by his side. At sunset he peered over the battle-field, and saw our soldiers sweeping the French before them. 'Hurrah!' he cried, 'the house of Rothschild has won Waterloo ' : his house had lent the money for it. He sprang into the saddle, galloped all night, reached the shore at daybreak, bribed a fisherman to take him across the stormy sea, and by whipping and spurring reached London thirty- six hours before anyone else. He used these hours in buying up all the stocks he could, and gained nearly two millions of pounds. Many on the battle- field besides him had perfect faith in the good news, but their faith was a thin lazy thing, and did not rouse them to act at once. And .so a faith that does not master and move you cannot make you rich in the goods of the soul. Real Christianity is a real living f\iith in a real living Saviour; it is a whole faith in the whole Saviour. This whole faith in Christ will make you faithful to Christ, that is, true-hearted and loyal to Him till life's last hour. Faithfulness to Christ also ensures a hearty obedience to your parents, without which your life must prove a miserable failure. II. The Crown of Success in Life. — The end crowns a human history. A green, peaceful, beautitul old age is a part of the prosperity celebrated in the first Psalm. The tree is to be evergreen to the very end. The fear of life, especially of old age, is common ; and it is found among some thoughtful children. The wisest way is not to think about old age at all, but to live now with all your heart the life of Christ. That keeps you from all those vile things that age the soul and heart, and make old men cro»s and joyless. I was reading that when our men-of- war were built of oak, they took the oak not from the forests but from the fields. The field-grown trees had drunk in more of heaven's sunshine, and thus had a stronger heart and lasted longer. That you may grow within and all around like David's ever- green, let nothing come between you and the sun- shine of God's grace ; let nothing come between the roots of your being and the river of life. Put away from you all that frets and sours the soul : be sweet- tempered, unselfish, generous : in a word, be Christ- like ; and then you'll be ready for middle age and old age, should God bring you to it. In any case you shall have lived long enough, and David's incense- breathing evergreen will be your biography ; for you shall not outlive true success and happiness. Why should not joy be the companion of your whole life journey ? And the evergreen will be the emblem of your life beyond the grave. ' For this God is our God : He will be our guide, even unto death ' (Ps. xi.vin. 14). These words mean, He guides us over death, or He guides us to immortality, or He guides us to youthfulness. In any case the meaning is that the evergreen shall be green for ever in the paradise above. — James Wells, Bible Object Lessons, p. 63. THE SOUL'S KISS ' Kiss the Son.' — Psalm ii. 12. Young children can learn much if they try. Dr. Archibald Alexander, a writer of good books, went to church when he was four years old. The text was ' Anathema Maranatha '. He resolved that he would try to understand the hard words, and watched eagerly for the explanation. He caught it and remembered it till his dying day. Before you read further say to yourself, I must understand this little text'; and thank God that He often reveals to babes what is hidden from the world's wise ones. But I must first explain the Psalm. Please open your Bible and look at it. It is a royal Psalm ; David's heart boils up and runs over with the things he hai 241 16 Ver. 12. PSALMS II., V Ver. 3. made touching King Jesus. The first three verses give a lite-like })icture of a great mob or riot. The kings of the earth become un' ingly, and join the rabble against the Lord and His Anointed. They are like the French rebels during the Revolution, who said they would overthrow the King of heaven as well as the monarchs of earth. They are like the apostate Julian, who, in scorn of Christ, pointed his naked dagger against heaven, as if he could wound the skies, or shake the throne of the Eternal. The foui'th and fifth verses show how God views the riot below. ' He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh,' What mad- ness, what folly ! The idea of man rushing against God ! From the sixth to the ninth verse Jehovah and the Messiah speak ; and from the tenth verse to the end Jehovah gives advices to all on the earth, and among them this, ' Kiss the Son '. I wish to tell you — I. What it is to kiss the Son. II. Why you should do it. Let us find out the what and the why of our beautiful text. Well then— !. What it is to Kiss the Son. — When you kiss your mother it is a sign of love. When a friend brings you a present you speak your thanks with a kiss. A kiss, then, is a sign of grateful love. To kiss a king is to own him as your king. Thus Samuel took a vial of oil and poured it upon Saul's head, and kissed him (i Sam x. i). When the ministers of our Queen come into office, they go to her, and kneeling, kiss her hand, and take the oath of homage, vowing that they will be true to her. We also read in the Bible of idol-worshippers kissing their idols. Thus to kiss the Son is to show love and loyalty to Him. Every Christian is a lover of Christ, and shows his love. His soul kisses the Son with the kiss, not of Judas, but of John. Christ loves you , how wonder- ful ! He is the great lover of your soul. His life from the cradle to the cross, and all His sayings and doings give you countless proofs that He loves you. Can you scom such love ? Can you slight such a Saviour? The thought of sinning against such love has filled many children with shame, and brought them to the feet of Christ. Glad, grateful love to the Lord Jesus is the heart of true religion. True loyalty never meanly asks, How little can I do for my king? it asks only^ How much ? It stands ready to do all it can. When Maria Theresa, Queen of Hungary, had many enemies, she appeared before her Parliament with her little boy in her arms, and appealed to their loyalty. They were touched, started to their feet, and their enthusiasm broke forth into a war-cry that soon resounded through Europe, 'Let us die for our king ! ' And these were not vain words ; for thousands of them did die for their king. Shall not this be our resolve. Let us live for our King, Who has died for us.? Shall not such fine loyalty to earthly kings shame us, if among His scorners vre are ever ashamed of Jesus ? Shall not royalty like His ce.ll forth all the loyalty of your soul ? I'm not ashamed to own my Lord, Or to defend His cause. Maintain the glory of His cross. And honour all His laws. It yet remains to show — II. Why you should Kiss the Son. — David gives two great reasons. His foes are under the wrath of God ; and his friends are blessed. Christ's foes are under God's wrath. — Strange that the Son should have one foe ! What is there about Him to kindle hatred in any breast? He is love ; and can it be that Divine love calls forth the hatred of men ? Are men monsters, devils, that they should rise against Him Who so loved us as to give Himself for us ? It shocks us that Absalom rebelled against his father David ; but a sinner rebelling against the Saviour, a creature dashing himself against his Creator, what can we say of that ? No wonder David begins his Psalm, ' Why do the heathen rage ? ' It is earth's greatest miracle of sin and folly. We could not wonder should heathens revolt against their idols ; for they are frightful to look upon, and their worship is terriblv cruel ; but the religion of Christ breathes goodwill to all men. Strange that thousands of professing Chi'istians are so ready to kiss a graven image, and so slow to kiss the Son. In St. Peter's Church at Home you might see crowds of young and old kissing the toes of an ugly blackened statue of Peter. The lu'azen toes of one foot are worn bright, and indeed nearly all worn off with constant kissing. Parents bring their little children and hold them up that they too may kiss the image. It is very sad that many are so eager to kiss that who will not kiss the Son. The grand reason why you should kiss the Son is given in the last verse : ' Blessed are all they that put their trust in Him '. They are blessed every way, and they are blessed always. One of the plaine.st proofs of this text is found among the poor and the vicious who have been converted. It is as plain as day that if all kissed the Son, the most of our miseries would straightway cease. Count up all the ills of life, and then ask how many of them could continue if the spirit of Christ ruled in every heart. The grace of God is the deadly foe of everything that is at war with our joy. — James Wells, Bible Images, p. 103. AIM STRAIGHT FOR ' I will direct my prayer unto Tnee.' — Psalm v. 3. At every available corner in ona of our great Southern cities there is a rather striking advertisement : a large painting on canvas or iron of a revolver point- ing in one direction to a certain business house, and in large letters underneath are the words 'Aim straight for '. The idea at once suggested to me the figure used by the Psalmist David in his fifth Psalm, where he pictures the archer directing his bow and arrow on to the centre of the target. I suppose that every girl and bov hopes to be able 242 Ver. 11. PSALM V Ver. 11. to win a good place in life. Then may I offer these simple rules to observe : — I. Aim Straight for Gentleness. — The world needs gentle men and gentle women. ' The fruit of the Spirit is gentleness ' (Gal. v. 22). In his Dowerful Psalm of thanksgiving King David sings, ' Thy gentleness hath made me great ' for victory over his foes. Two boys were waiting to cross a small ferry, when two aged women came along. One lad said to his companion, 'Stand back, Jim! ladies first'. That lad was one of Nature's gentlemen. II. Aim Straight for Goodness of Heart. — 'Keep thy heart with all diligence.' Take care of it, train it, culture it with best and purest thoughts. There are many forms of heart disease. The worst of all diseases is sin. ' The pure in heart shall see God.' Aim to be able all through life to sing, 'My strength is the strength of ten men because my heart is pure '. III. Aim Straight for true Godliness — For even a child is known bv his doings. When Princess Victoria was told she was likely one day to be Queen of England she said, ' Then I will be good '. She kept her aim, and justly won the golden coronet of title of Victoria the Good. ' Her Court was pure, her life serene '. — A. G. Weller, Sunday Gleams, p. 12. QOD OUR DEFENDER ' Let those that trust in Thee rejoice, because Thou defendest them.' — Psalm v. ii. ' Let those that trust in Thee rejoice, because Thou defendest them.' This is my text just now. It is one of the many beautiful tilings which David said when he thought of his God. When men travel through forests where wild beasts like lions and tigei"s roam about in search of prey they, cari'y with them fire-arms ; and when at night they lie down in their forest tent to sleep they light a fire near its door, and then sleep in safety ; for wild beasts don't like fire and keep away from it, so the gun is a defender by day and the fire by night. And when kings travel about in a country where they have enemies, soldiers travel witli them — soldiers before them, soldiers behind them, and soldiers on either side of them— with swords by their sides, which they will draw against any man who dares to threaten the life of their king ; and at night when the king- lies down to sleep they camp round about him, keep- ing unsleeping watch, and thus day and night soldiers ai'e his defenders. And when an army comes against the loved homes of brave men to kill the wives and children, the brave men go out and meet the army to fight it and drive it back again. They are the passionate de- fenders of their homes. Sometimes the brave men are beaten in the fight and killed, and then their homes are captured and destroyed, and their poor wives and families are put to death, because their de- fenders are dead. And this spirit of defence is almost as common among the lower creatures a.s among men. 1 have heard of a hawk swooping from its course in the sky down towards some little chickens that were scratch- ing about by their mother's side, to seize one of them, soar up with it, and fly away to devour it; but the mothei'-hen, seeing the cruel purpose, bravely dashed in between the chickens and the hawk, and, cleverly and tremblingly dodging as the hawk dodged to get behind her, effectually kept it at bay, preferring to be herself pecked by the hawk's sharp beak, even to death, rather than to let her little ones suffer. That mother was a genuine defender. I have read, too, of a brave stork, which had built its nest on a house, and there had laid its eggs and hatched its young. One day, long before the downy little things could fly, the house unfortunately caught fire. First the stifling smoke reached the nest, and against this the brave stork defended it as best as she could, covering it carefully with her broad wings. With the stifling smoke came great heat, v.hich be- came greater every moment, till at last the flames appeared. From the caves they crept and leaped along up towards the ridge where, near the chimney, the nest was built. The heat must have been insuffer- able. The bird must escape or die. Yet escape she would not ; she could not abandon her young. Even dead, she might lie upon them, and cover them from the fire with the scorched feathers of her wings. The fire burned on till at last the roof fell, and then, alas I bird, and nest, and young were all buried in the blazing ruins beneath. That poor faithful stork was a noble defender. Among the many grand and brave deeds done to defend, none are more grand and brave than one done a little while ago. A nurse at a hospital for sick children was one day sent o'.it with three little patients who had been in the hospital for some time for dif- ferent diseases, and were now able to take a little air; the eldest of them was only eight years old. As they proceeded on their walk, they were met by a dog, with foaming mouth, running furiously. No sooner did the dog see them than it at once rushed towards them. The dog was mad. They were all alarmed, and would have made their escape ; but, before they had time to move, the dog was almost upon them. Seeing the frightful danger in which the children were placed, the nurse at once threw hereelf between them and the dog, which then sprung upon her, seized her by the arm, and tore her flesh dreadfully. It would have then attacked the three little invalids, who were behind the nurse, clinging to her dress ; but, seeing this, and resolving to prevent it at all costs, she bravely threw herself u]ion the dog, clasped it in her bleeding arms, rolled over with it, knelt upon it, caught it now by its leg, now by its ears, struggling with all her might. She 7nust keep it from the children ; for she could bear anything but the idea of the dog getting at the children. The stiTJggle ended by two men coming up, who killed the dog and carried the poor nurse back to her homo, 243 PSALM XV where she died. The three little invalids were un- hurt. They had had a brave and glorious dei'ender. She lost her own life ; she saved theirs. Now, why have I told you these stories of defenders ? Not only to make you think highly of the daring warrior who defends his hearth ami home ; not to make you admire the stork in the fire, or the hen be- fore the hawk ; not even to make you think highly of the nurse-girl who so splendidly bi aved such frightful dangers, bled, and at length died in her little charges' defence, though that would be good. I have a reason far better than these. From tender and strong hearts in the creature, I want you to rise to the tender and strong heart of the Creator. The grandest hearts are but drops of the Creator's love. "They have all come down from the One perfect heart. So from admira- tion of earthly defenders, I want you to rise to ad- mire and to adore the one great Defender— God, and to join them that put their trust in Him. Look up from man to God. Think how good it is to trust in kind friends, who, if danger arose, would de- fend you with their lives, then feel and say, ' It is still better to trust in the Lord '. But one thing more — remember who it was that said this. It was David, himself a brave defender. It was David, the shepherd who defended his sheep against the lion and the bear. It was David, the king who defended Israel against Goliath and the Philistines. It was David, the father who, if he might, would have saved his son Absalom's life by sacrificing his own. Yes, it was David, the true shepherd, the brave king, the tender father, who felt just what I want 3'ou to feel. He felt that God is better than the best shepherd, and better than the best king, and better than the best father ; and so the brave man said, ' Let them that put their trust in Thee rejoice, because Thou defendest them'. — B, VVaugh, Sunday Evenings with My Children, p. 115. THE GENTLEiVlAN'S PSALM Psalm xv. . This Psalm Mr. Ruskin calls, ' The Gentleman's Psalm'. It contains a very homely description of a good man — what he does and what he does not do. Of course, it is so very, very old a picture that we are not surprised that it is not perfect ; but it emphasises qualities which will make a good foundation for our lives. He that Walketh Uprightly and Worketh Right- eousness.— That is, the truly good man or gentleman is not idle or useless ; he does his best with his brain and with his hands : he lives not to get pleasure but to do right. He Speaketh the Truth In His Heart He speaketh the truth to himself as well as to others. He will not live on make-believe ; he hates sham and shoddy ; he loves the truth. He that Backbiteth not with his Tongue, nor doeth Evil against his Neighbour, nor Taketh up a Reproach against his Neighbour. — He docs not say mean things behind other people's backs ; he does not whisper mischief; he does not bear false witness. ' What is bearing false witness ? ' asked a teacher in a school, and the best answer was, 'When nobody does nothing to nobody, and somebody goes and tells '. The true gentleman neither invents nor passes on mean things. He is like Tennyson's Knight of the Round Table, ' He speaks no slander, no, nor listens to it '. It t ikes two people to slander ; one to speak — he is the worse, and one to listen — he is almost as bad. But the Psalmist's good man never speaks ill of his conu'ades. Once his friend, always his friend. He does not cut his old acquaintance in the stieet because he has a shabby coat on, or because things have gone awry with him. In whose Eyes a Vile Person is Contemned ; but he Honoureth them that Fear the Lord. — He does not despise a man because he is poor or ignorant, or plain or ill-dressed ; but he does despise people who think vilely and speak vilely and act vilely. There was a lady the other day who was doing a gracious act in taking a poor maid-servant round the National Gallery ; she had never been in such a place. It was not the pictures which interested her : it was those great smooth floors. When she saw them she said, ' Oh my ! How those floors must make some- body's elbows ache ! My ! it would kill me to scrub 'em.' And there were some people who, when they heard her, tip-tilted their noses and moved away. She was so vulgar ! Ah ! but the real meaning of the word ' vulgar ' has nothing to do with things at all — scrubbing floors or painting pictures ; it has to do with the spirit in which things are done. Vulgar is that vulgar does. He Sweareth to his own Hurt, and Changeth not. — He does not break his promises, if it is by any means possible to keep them. You can rely on his word as you would rely on a bond. I cannot speak too strongly of the importance of paying heed to our words. Once on a time they brought to Socrates a well-dressed boy, asking the philosopher to pass an opinion on the lad. He said, ' But I have not heard him talk. Speak, boy, that I may see you.' The speech shows up the real self He Putteth not out his Money to Usury, nor Taketh Reward against the Innocent. He that doeth these Things shall never be Moved. — I think it means that he does not take advantage of other people's necessities. He is not a bird of prey that bites the poor, nor a crawling creature that sucks their blood. What he gets he will do his best to deserve. He will not rob people of their just rights. His opinion cannot be bought. His honour is dear to him. Now, what does our Psalmist say? The man about whom these things are tme, whatever happens — fire, storm, or eai'thquake — stands ; for God does not per- mit a man of that sort to be lost ; he stands fast for ever and ever. — B. J. Snell, Words to Children, p. 166. 244 Ver. 5. PSALMS XX., XXI., XXII Ver. 5 UNDER WHICH FLAG (A railway reflection) FSALM XX. 5. White is right, red is wronp, Green with cautiou, move slowly along. So runs the old couplet, and just expresses the part the three little flags I hold in my hand play in the journey of lite. Perhaps you noticed in reading the account of a recent railway disaster on one of our main lines that tlie guard put up the red flag to warn all approaching trains of danger. The red flag and the red light speak of danger. I. The Red Flag speaks of Danger. — There are many danger signals to warn us that death is only removed by a step. Perhaps the most prominent red token is Conscience. Conscience is the little voice which says Stop, do not do this wicked thing, or you will die. ' It was yielding to the sudden temptation to alter the figures on a cheque that brought me here,' said a young man to me, who was a prisoner in one of His Majesty's prisons. 'Tell the children,' said he, 'not to trifle with sin ; it means ruin.' 'Happy the child whose youngest yeai-s receive in- struction well.' II. The Green Flag speaks of Caution. — A warn- ing. The best token is the Word of God. The most prominent word in The Word is Prepare, Be ready. Remember your mother's three cautions — Don't go without your coat or cloak, or you may take cold ; don't walk in the road, or you may be knocked down ; don't waste your time, time is money. It is recorded that when Robert MofFatt took leave of his mother to face the world, he saw she wished to say something but could not. ' What is it, mother,' he said, ' I will do it if I can.' ' I only ask you to read a chapter of the Bible every morning, and an- other in the evening.' 'Yes, mother, I will certainly do as vou desire.' Children, 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.' III. The White Flag speaks of Safety.— White is right. The assurance for a safe journey depends on one thing. It is all in the coupling. No matter how strong the engine, how nicely furnished the carriages may be, how well laid the metals. Good works, clear brains, strong lives will never reach heaven without Christ. He is the coupling that links time to eternity. When the strain came on that train that was recently wTecked, the couplings broke ; then came the smash. No strain can separate us from Christ, whose souls .are made white through the blood of the Lamb. He will hold me fast, He will hold me fast, For my Saviour loves me so, H ■ will ho!d me fast. — A. G. Weller, Sunday Gleams, p. 48. Psalm xxi. 4. James Vaughan has the following illustration of this text : ' There was a little boy whom I knew, and he was a very little boy when his mother died, and his father — a good man, now in India — after her death was one day engaged in family jirayer, and reading, and explaining the Bible, and he said, " God gives us anything we ask ". And the little boy could not keep silence, but said, " No, papa, God does not give us everything we ask. You know, papa, we asked that God would make mamma well. God did not give us what we wanted. We asked God to give her life, but she died ! God did not give her life." His papa beautifully said, " O my dear boy, remem- ber that verse in the twenty-iirst Psalm : ' He asked life of Thee, and Thou gavest him a long life : even for ever and ever '. God has answered our prayer. We asked for her life, and ' He has given her length of days, even life for ever and ever '." ' PROVIDENCE ' They loolied unto Thee and were delivered.'— Psalm xxn. 5. I. I READ this story once, and I repeat it to you now as one instance of God's answer to prayer. On the edge of a great forest lived a woodman and his family. One day a tree fell on the woodman and crushed him badly, and he lay long months in bed. The summer passed, and he was still in bed ; then the winter, and the spring. His family became very poor, every day poorer, until at last they had nothing to eat but what they were permitted to gather in the wood. One spring morning the mother took her children to the front of the house and knelt down and asked God for bread. And on that same morning it happened that a painter, going to the wood to paint a picture, saw under the green leaves and shadows of the wood this group kneeling in prayer. He saw the poor mother and her children kneeling in front of their poor cottage. It was a beautiful sight, and while they prayed he quickly drew a pic- ture of them. Then, when they rose from prayer, the artist went to the mother and said he would give her a sovereign if she would allow him to remain beside the cottage for a little and take portraits of herself and her chil- dren. And she did. So God heard her prayer. He sent bread that day for the children, the husband, and herself, and by and by her husband was able to go out again and begin work. I do not know more of this story. But I know this : God sometimes answers prayere in a direct, im- mediate way. II. When we read of war, we think what a dreadful thing it would be if an army with guns and swords were to land upon our shores and march in upon our towns and our homes. Well, God's people have often known what that terror was, and many stories are told of how He has sent His angels to deliver them. I heard a story once of an old lady — and old people are children of God as well as young people — and it 245 Ver. 5. PSALM XXII Ver. 5. was a time of war, and in her village the word %vent, "The Cossacks are coming'. Now the Cossacks were wild, terrible, and cruel soldiers. And all the people fled. But this old lady said, 'I am old and feeble, and cannot flee'. So the neighbours fled and she remaintL.. And the night fell. And she heard the tramp, tramp of the soldiers, but fainter and fainter. They never came ; they went into the other houses, but not into hers. In the morning they were gone. But when she looked out, the country all around was covered with snow, and God had made the snow fall on a hedge between her home and the road. And she knew it was God, for she said, ' Fire and hail, snow and vapour, stormy wind fulfilling His word '. The snow was God's angel. Though the night be dark and dreary, Darkness cannot hide from Thee ; Thi'u art He who, never weary, Watchest where Thy people be. Though destruction walk around ua, Though the arrow past us fly, Anael-guards from Thee surround us ; We are safe if Thou art nigh. III. It happened once in Poland (that too was in a time of war) that a band of soldiers came to a little town, and for some reason the general ordered it to be burned. But the minister of the church, when the news of that order reached him, took twelve boys from the choir and marched them down to the general's tent and sang a hymn, and the general's heart was moved, and he spared the town. So you see the minister and his choir were like angels of mercy in saving their town. In a village neai' Warsaw lived a pious peasant named Dobiny. When he became old and poor he could not pay his rent, and was to be turned out of his home the next day, and it was winter. As he sat in sorrow the church bells rang for even- ing prayer, and Dobiny began to sing : — Commit thou all thy griefs And ways into His hands. And there was a tapping at the window. This was a raven that Dobiny's father had taken from its nest when young, and had tamed. Dobiny opened the window to let in the raven, and there was a ring set with precious stones in its month. Dobiny took the ring to the minister, and he saw by the crest that it belonged to King Stanislau.s, and he took it to the king. And the king built a house for Dobiny, and took him into his own service, and he never knew want again. 'The raven, the ring, the minister, the king,' these were God's an<;el-host for Dobiny. IV. In a humble cottage in a valley in Switzer- land, below a great snow-covered mountain, three children happened one night to be left alone. Their mother was dead, their father away on a journey. They were called Robert, Franz, and Theresa. During the night the children awoke suddenly and cried to each other, ' What is that ? ' and then dropped off to sleep again. But by and by they found themselves awake again, and could not sleep. Not a bit of light came through the shutters or the doors. What a dark night it must be I no moon, no stai-s. Then Theresa, the eldest, began to tell stories to her two brothers till day should dawn. But for them the day did not dawn. Then Franz was hungry, and the other two were hungry, and Theresa got up and looked about for matches, but could find none. Her father had locked them up, but she found some bread and milk for her brothers. Then the eldest boy, Robert, said he would look out, so he unbolted the door, and the door seemed to burst open, and a great mass of snow fell in upon him and nearly covered him. Then the terrible truth flashed on each of them. They were buried in the snow. What awoke them in the night was an avalanche ; a mass of snow fall ing from the mountain had buried their cottage. Then they cried on their father, but they saw how foolish that was. Then one said, ' Shall he be able to find us ? ' but Theresa said, ' God knows where we are, and He will not forsake us'. ' If I could only see you ! ' said little Franz to Theresa. Then they began to pray. But for the most part the children sat holding each other's hands. Many hours passed. Franz got very hungry, very faint, but he got gentle in his trouble. Robert broke out into a burst of tears, and threw himself crying on the bed. The hours went past very slowly. No sun, no moon, no stars. ' Oh, Theresa,' cried little Franz, ' when will the King of Glory pass by ? ' for now they began to think of death. But just then they all heard a thud upon the i-oof of the house, then thud upon thud, then a little gleam of light came, then a voice, ' Franz Hofmeister, are you there ? ' Franz was too weak to reply, but Robert answered with a great shout : — ' Yes, neighbour Ulric, we are all here.' And by and by neighbour Ulric and other friends had made a way to the door, and were in and had the children in their arms. And soon they were carried out to their father, who, afraid lest they might be dead, had not strength to go near. ' Thank Ulric, our good neighbour,' said the father. Franz put his arms round Ulric's neck and pressed a kiss on his cheek, and said, ' Thanks, dear Ulric : I will never forget you '. And these childn n never did forget thei)' deliverer. They were buried. They were raised again. It was a resurrection. They kept the day as a day of thanksgiving ever after year by year all their life. — Alexander Macleou, The Child Jesics, p. 139. 246 V^er. 22. PSALMS XXII., XXVII Ver. 14. THE BIBLE TELESCOPE ' I will declare Thy name unto my brethren : in the midst of the congregation will I praise Thee.'— Psalm xxii. 22. Tnii telescope, you know, is an instrument which makes things which are really far off appear as if they were near. And this Psalm, and indeed the whole Bible for that niattt r, makes the lite and death and resurrection of Jesus .seem i|uite near to us, although these great events took place hundreds of miles away, and hundreds of years ago. When we want to see Jesus clearly and distinctly, we must look through the Bible telescope. One thing leads to another, and the thought of the telescope set my mind thinking of some other glasses, or optical instruments, to which the Bible might be compared, and these, including the telescope, are four in number. I. The Telescope. — The telescope helps us to see afar off. You are at the coast, and with your naked eye you see a speck on the horizon ; but when you look at it through the telescope, lo and behold, it be- comes a big steamer, and you see the smoke ! The astronomer at the Paisley Observatory showed me through his beautiful telescope the planet Jupiter. To the naked eye it only looked like a bright star, but through the telescope it looked like a little I'ound moon, and by its side were three little moons or satellites, and its fourth moon had got in the way of the telescope and threw its shadow, which looked like a little spot of sticking-plaster right on the middle of the planet's bright face. What a wonderful instru- ment the telescope is. And is not the Bible like the telescope, as it shows us Jesus hanging on the cross with His hands and feet pierced for us, and His garments parted among the soldiers ? And then we can use the telescope to look forward and upward ; and so, later in the Psalm, we see Jesus as King on the throne, and suiTounded by worship- ping nations. ' All the ends of the world shall remem- ber, and turn unto the Lord ; and all the kindreds of the nations shall worship before Thee. For the kingdom is the Lord's ; and He is the governor among the nations ' (ver. 27). II. The Microscope.^Of course you have looked through a micro.scope or magnifying-glass. It makes things which are very small appear large. Have you looked at an old cheese, and seen the little mites, which appear like grey powder, running about like the ants in an ant-hill ? Have you seen the animal- culae in water, which are invisible to the naked eye, twisting and wriggling about like little worms ? Have you seen the tongue of a fly, and the sting of a bee, and how beautifully these are finished by the wisdom and power of God ? The microscope shows the plan and meaning of the most minute objects. And the Bible is like a microscope, for it shows us the plan and meaning of the little things in the life and death of Jesus. As we read the Bible they seem to become larger and more beautiful and more full of meaning. The little word ' / thirst ' not only tells us that Jesus was thirsty oa the cross, but reminds us that He was really and truly man, and that He can sympathise and feel with us when we .are thirsty or in pain or trouble, and that the words of our Psalm were fulfilled : 'My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and Thou hast brought me into the dust of death ' III. The Stereoscope.- — Many of you have one at home. It is generally made like a wooden box with two glasses for the two eyes to look through. A card is put in with two photographs of the same object side by side, and the object appears not flat as in the photograph, but solid. The Greek word ' stereos ' means solid. And the Bible is like a stereosco|>e. It gives us four pictures of Jesus Christ by the four Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The pictures are the same in the main, but a little different in detail. Then, as we look at them attentively, and combine them together, they seem to make Jesus stand out before us as a solid figure, not merely like one we have read of in a book, but one whom we have seen with our eyes, and could handle with our hands, as we do our nearest and d< arest friends. — F. H. Robarts, Sunday Morning Talks, }). 135. COURAGE ' Be of good courage.' — Psalm xxvn. 14. What do we mean by courage ? Of course you will say, and quite rightly too, not being afraid. Now there are two kinds of courage — one we call bodily courage, that is, not being afraid of pain or even death. Let me tell you a story of some men who showed great bodily courage. Many hundred years ago, a King of Persia, called Xerxes, invaded Greece with an immense army and marched down the Eastern coast till he came to a place called Thermopylae, where there was a very narrow valley through which he had to p>».ss in order to get into southern Greece. But at the entrance of the valley he found a small Greek army commanded by the King of Sparta, whose name was Leonidas. This General had only about seven thousand men altogether, and just three hundred of his own subjects. Xerxes sent a messenger order- ing Leonidas to give up his arms. 'Come and take them,' was his answer. And this Xerxes set out to do, and for five days tried to fight his way through the narrow valley, but all in vain. The brave Leonidas and his little army fought so fiercely that Xerxes was always defeated with heavy- loss. At last a man, who I am sorry to say was a Greek, came and told the King of Pereia of a way over the mountain to the other end of the valley. ' Follow me,' said he, ' and I will show you how to overcome these few Greeks.' Leonidas, however, heard that the Persians were coming round to the other end of the entrance of the valley, and that he would at last be quite surrounded by his enemies. Now what did he do ? Run away 247 V^er. 5. PSALM XXXII Ver. 3. before the valley was blocked up ? No, he was too brave for that. He asked his three hundred Spartans what they would do, and they shouted, 'Conquer or die '. Then he let all those who wanted to do so make their escape in time, and at last was left with just two thousand men. What was the end of these brave men? They didn't wait to be attacked, but rushed on the Persians, and for a long time kept their ranks unbroken. At last, however, Leonidas and most of his men were killed, and the few who were left, worn out with fatigue and wounds, withdrew into the valley, seated themselves on a little hill, and calmly waited the approach of their enemies. They hadn't long to wait, soon they were surrounded by the Persians, and at last not one of these noble men was left alive. They showed, all of them, true bodily courage. And I think our English soldiers and sailors are quite as brave as these Spartans were^they, too, are always ready to face death. But there is another kind of courage which even the bravest soldiers and sailors do not always show. What is that courage called ? I think you all know we call it moral courage. Bodily courage is not being afraid of what men will do to us, and moral courage is showing no fear of what people may say or think of us — and this is the best kind of courage. Let us learn to fear God, and then we shall be afraid of nothmg else. Let us ask Him to give us His grace day by day, to love and serve Him, and then we shall be able to be brave and strong in the cause of truth and right, whatever men may say or do to us. We want, like Joseph, to be brave in the hour of temptation and say, ' How can I do this great wicked- ness and sin against God ? ' We want, like Daniel, to be brave and faithful to God in the midst of opposition, and say to the world and the devil, when others are grovelling before some false god, ' We will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up'. — R. G. SoANs, Sermons for the Young, p. 44. TRESPASSING ' I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord ; and Thou forgivest the iniquity of my sin.' — Psalm xxxii. 5. As you walk along the road you often see a long pole with a board, on which these words are painted, ' Trespassers will be punished according to Law '. The load is the King's highway, and is perfectly free to you. Nobody can blame you for walking along it. But the field on the other side of the hedge belongs to the landlord, and he can do what he likes with his own property. If you step over into it you break the law of the land, and may be punished for it. God has fenced in with laws a hirj;hway along which we are to walk in life's journey. He has made us and all things, and has every right in the world to lay down laws for us. We are under His laws, and we can never get away from them. We might as easily escape from the air or from our- selves as escape from God's laws, which belong to our very being. Sin is a breaking of these laws, and so it is often called a transgression or trespa-s. May the gracious Spirit help me to explain the words of David which we have read. They tell us — I. What Sin is ; and, n. How to get rid of it I. What Sin is.— The Apostle John writes, 'Sin is the transgression of the law ' (1 John in. 4). But what law is meant ? God has many laws — laws for the stars, the tides, the spring, and for everything. But among all these there is one that is the law of laws, and it is here called the law. It binds man to love and serve God. This law is as old as man, for it was in him when he was born ; and it is written in the hearts of all men as well as in the Word of God. When we speak of the law, we usually mean the Ten Commandments given by God to Moses ou Mount Sinai. Around that i-ugged and awful mountain ail the children of Israel were gathered. Bounds were set round about, through which none should pass on pain of death. God descended upon the mountain amid thunderings and lightnings and clouds ; the mount quaked, and the people trembled. Thus with every sign of majesty was the law given ; for the law is the most solemn thing in the world for sinful men. The Commandments were written by the finger of God upon two tables of stone. They declare what we should be and do toward God and men. As ten shillings are summed up in the piece of gold we call a half-sovereign, so the Ten Commandments are all summed up in one golden rule : ' Thou shalt love the Lord thv God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy strength, and with all thv mind, and thy neighbour as thyself. In His Sermon on the Mount, our Saviour teaches that the law has to do chiefly with our spirits. It goes into all the hidden corners of our hearts, and judges our most secret thoughts. It condemns evil desires quite as much as evil actions. The law is like the boundary set round about Mount Sinai when God spake to Moses. It is a sacred line drawn by God, fencing off forbidden things. Thus the Bible very often calls sin a tres- ]iass or transgression. These two words mean the very same thing — stepping over a line, or breaking through a fence, or crossing a boundary. I remem- ber a thrilling account of a crew who had despaired of saving their ship. In their frenzy many of the sailors wished to take possession of the stores, that they might drown their fears with strong drink. The captain, with a drawn sword, stood on a line running across the deck, and with a merciful severity threatened to cut down the first man who crossed it. The sailor who dared to step over that line disobeyed his captain, and became a transgressor. The first sin makes my meaning very plain. God drew a line with His law around one tree. Adam and Eve might roam at ple.asure through the rest of the garden, only they were not to go over the sacred, though unseen, fence around that one tree. But they broke V'er. 5. PSALM XXXII Ver. 5. through it, and became sinners. The first si)i was ' the transgression of the law '. And, like every sin, it was also rebellion against God. For the law and the Lawgiver cannot be separated. It is a dreadful thing to break the law of the land ; for all the rulere are behind the law, and they seize the law-breaker, and take him to prison and punishment. But to break God's law — what shall we say about that ? A minister, who lay for some months on his death- bed, wrote to his friends, that he felt like a man on whom the great eye of the holy God was resting. For months he had to look straight into that piercing eye. Though he had lived a blameless life, he felt that he was a miserable sinner, and that every hope of heaven would have perished in his heart, had it not been for the mercy of the Saviour. Every one who knows God's law has the same feeling. His praver is, God be merciful to me the sinner. Sin is also a debt. In repeating the Lord's Prayer, you sometimes say 'forgive us our trespasses,' and sometimes 'forgive us our debts'. Christ has given us both these words. Sin is, as to the act, a trespass ; and, as to the result of it, a debt which brings punishment upon men. ' You know what sin is when you know the meaning of a trespass and a debt. A debt is what is due. Sin is nothing else than not to give God His due. Duties not done are debts not paid. Trespassing often brings men into debt, and it is our trespassing that has caused all our debts to the holy Lord. Oh, what a curse debt is ! How its hated burden crushes a man's heart. Debt is a thing of the past ; you cannot see it, or touch it with your finger, and say, ' there it is ' ; yet it is a reality. You remember the first picture in the Pilgrim's Progress — poor Christian with the big burden on his back. Tliat mysterious bui'den is made up by bis sins or his spiritual debts. It is the strange thing called guilt that makes him so miserable. Oh I who vi^ill take the burden off? Your debts are very great. Every time you have passed over God's sacred boundary line you have added to the black list. Your evil words and thoughts, your failures to love God and man as you ought, are more than misfortunes, or weaknesses, or blots. All these are not only shameful, but also sinful. Though we may have forgotten our debts, a correct account of them has been kept in the book above. No false entries there ; the recording angel makes no mistake. You are drowned in debt. 'Were you to call in all your old debts, you would confess with David that they are more than the hairs on your head. In one of his parables (Matt, xvni. 23), our Saviour likens the sinner to a king's servant who owed ten thousand talents, that is, more than three millions of pounds sterling. But he was a very poor man and could not pay one farthing of it. He was a hopeless bankrupt till his Lord freely forgave him the mighty sum. That is exactly our case. This is the very first lesson we learn in Christ's school — that we have many trespasses, and that it is for ever impossible for us to pay our debts. People talk about reforming and turning over a new leaf. But what are we to do with the old leaves — these bungled, blotted, shamefid leaves which make up the book of our jiast. Oh, these debts ! It is a blessed thing to believe fully that you have not a penny of your own to meet them with. Until you know this, you are like a boy trying to spell forgiveness, who yet does not know his ABC. When you know it, you are in the fairway of learning what is next to be done. You will then be eager to know — II. How to get Rid of Sin. — ' We all need to settle our accounts with God betimes,' a man once said to his dying brother, who replied, ' I know no way, my dear brother, to settle accounts with God, but by receiving a free pardon through my Redeemer '. In order to get rid of sin something is needed on our part, and something on God's part ; you must con- fess, and God must forgive. ' I said, I will confess, and thou forgavest.' Yoti must confess. — Nothing can be done till we own our guilt. You have seen a bad boy disgraced, and put out of the room ; and afterwards you have seen him pardoned. But he had first to confess his fault, and say he was sorry for it, and ask to be for- given. Your mother never gives you the kiss of forgiveness till you have confessed vour sin. Pardon without confession would be an encouragement to sin, and it would utterly destroy a parent's authority. Now our Heavenly Father never pardons His sinning children till they have sincerely confessed all their transgressions. Millions of transgressors have been pardoned, but not one of them without confession. Evei-y one of them has said with the prodigal, ' Father, I have sinned '. For some time after his shameful sin, David, as he tells us in this Psalm, did not confess his transgressions. He wished, if it were possible, to cheat God and man about it ; there was guile in his spirit. He ' kept silence ' (ver. 3). That means a great deal more than that he was silent. He was like a stubborn boy who sullenly stiffens himself up and determines not to yield. His soul then grew so wretched under sin known but unconfes.sed that he fell into ill-health. ' When I kept silence, my bones waxed old . . . my moisture is turned into the drought of summer.' But at last he frankly owns his sins and spreads them all out before God. 'I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord.' As the shining stars are in the sky for multitude, so are tlie words of forgiveness in the Bible. Here is another of them : ' Having forgiven you all trespasses ; blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, whicVi was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to His cross' (Col. ii. 13). Accounts were written then on slate-like little tables filled with wax. When the debt was paid, by rubbing the wax quite smooth the handwriting was blotted out, so that no trace of it remained. The wax tables were then laid by for future use. There was a hand- writing against Christ's people, which w.as contrary to them, for whichever way they turned it met them 249 Ver. 9. PSALM XXXII Ver. 9. like a horrid spectre. But God our Saviour has blotted out the handwriting and nailed it to His cross, like an old account discharged in full. — James Wells, Bible EcJioes, p. 33. BITS AND BRIDLES ' Be ye not as the horse, or as the mule, which have no under- standing ; whose trappings must be bit and bridle to hold them in, else they will not come near unto thee.' — Psalm xx.xii. g. I. How can a child be like a horse or a mule ? There is all the difference in the world between children and horses. When you draw a boy on your slate, and then draw a horse, the boy perhaps is not very like any boy you ever saw, or indeed that anybody else ever saw ; nor is the horse like any horse that ever drew a carriage, or carried a rider. StUl, even on paper, there is all tlie difference in the world between a horse and a boy. No one draws quite so badly that he has to write ' Boy ' under one figure and ' Horse ' under the other, for fear people should mis- take one for the other. And j'et, though so unlike each other in most things, this text hints that a child can be like a horse ; in fact, that children and grown-up people are in great danger of being like horses and mules. It tells us too in what way. It says that horses have no understanding, and must be held in with bit and bridle if you want to stop or turn them. They have to he forced to do things. Their rider has to make them go, make them stop, and rnake them turn round. Some of them can, no doubt, be made to understand and obey words and signs. Yet, however good and gentle a horse is, you never see men riding or driving without bridles, because there is not understanding enough in the horse to obey mere words. His master has very often to inake him do things. Well, are not men often like their horses in this ? Have they not to be held in with bit and bridle ? But you will say, We never saw a man with a bit in his mouth. Perhaps not — but did you never see a policeman walking up and down a sti'eet ? Now, what do the policemen in our streets mean ? They mean that there are a great many men, and women too, in this country who will not leave people or things alone — who will not be honest, or quiet, or sober, unless they are forced. They are like the horse and the mule. They have to" be held in by bit and bridle. Did you ever see a gaol ? A great, big, dark house with a high wall going all round it, with heavy chains hanging over its great thick door ? Now, what does the gaol mean ? \Vhat do those chains mean ? They mean that here in England to-day there are people ^o dangerous to other people that they have to be shut up in gaols, and held fast by chains to keep them from doing harm. Did you ever see a soldier? Oh yes, scores of soldiers ! You like to see them, don't you ? Yet a soldier, for all his fine uniform, is a sad sight. For what do soldiers mean ? That there are still many people in the world — outside our land, and inside too — who will not behave themselves peacefully and honestly unless they are made to do so by sheer force. So, although you never see men and women going about with horses' bridles over their heads or horses' bits in their mouths, there are a great many who have to be held in and kept quiet with bridles that are very much stronger and more shameful. And not only grown-up people ; children at home and in school very often — much, much too often — are like little horses and mules, who won't do right, or go right, unless they are made to. Did you ever see a cane in your school ? Do you ever hear of ' lines ' and ' impositions,' and of being ' kept in ' ? Yes, I am sure you have. Well, what are these things ? They are the bits and bridles with which boys and girls have to be driven and guided when they behave as horses do. How often does a mother or a nurse have to say sadly, ' These children won't do what they are told unless I threaten them !' And that means that the children, like mules, only move at the sound of the whip, and only stop at the pull of the bridle. II. But now perhaps some boy or girl will say, ' Well, after all, a horse that obeys the bridle is not a bad horse, and a child that does what he is told, although he has to be told several times, is not a very bad child '. No, he is not very bad — yet — but he will soon be, if he does not alter. Bits and bridles can keep horses in the right way ; but men and women, boys and girls, cannot be made good, or kept good, against their own wishes. A policeman can, perhaps, stop a thief from steal- ing; but all the policemen in the world cannot stop him from wanting to steal, and so long as a man wants to steal he is a bad man — a thief in his heart, whether his hands take things or not. Gaols and gaolers can keep people from doing wrong, but not from being wrong. The cane in school may keep you from hitting another boy, but it can't make you leave off hating him in your heart. Men are not good unless their hearts are good ; that is, unless they do good because thev love good- ness, and leave off doing bad things because they hate sin with all their might. A man who does not do bad deeds only because he is afraid of being punished is really a bad man, and most likely some day he will be so tempted as to for- get his fear and do the bad deeds. And a child who in school only obeys the cane, and at home does things in a sulky, pouting way, may not yet be a very bad child, but he is most certainly on the way to become a really wicked man. Therefore the text says, ' Be ye not as the horse or the mule '. III. How, then, should we be guided ? Ey some- thing that God has put into each one of us tor that purpose. The text calls it ' understanding '. It is a 250 \ er. 9. PSALMS XXXII., XXXIV Ver. 8. rather long word, but I think you all know what it means. It is the real difference between men and animals. No man would say to the best horse in the world, ' Now, I want you to take me to the bookseller's, then to the grocer's and the chemist's, and then to the railway station ' ; because no horse could under- stand— could know what it all meant. He could never go to all these places of himself. He has to be guided by bit and bridle. But a child understands : he knows what words mean ; he knows, too, right from wrong, and he knows God's will about them. You know love from hate, truth from falsehood, good from bad, and you know perfectly well and at once, each time these things come before you, which you ought to choose. You know quite well that you ought to do right always ; and the more you do what you ought, the more easily and plainly will you see what is right in every case. Right is God's Will. — There was once a great temple with a wonderful image in it. And the wonderful thing about the image was this, that to whatever part of the temple men went, the eyes of the image seemed to be looking at them and watch- ing them. Of course the idol could not see anything really. But in the vei-se before the text, God says, ' I will counsel thee with Mine eye upon thee '. God really sees us. From every commandment in the Bible, from the life of Jesus Christ, from every right and good thing that comes in our way, God's eye looks out upon us and counsels us, tells us what to do and how to do it. And God's eye upon us should be enough for us. Our knowledge of right and wrong should be enough. There should be no need of bit and bridle of any sort for us. We should be not horses that obey the bridle, but children that obey from the heart Pray God, then, to keep you from being like the horse or the mule, and to help you always to be imitators of God as beloved children, walking in love, as Christ also loved you, and gave Himself up for you. Amen. — J. Morgan Gibbon, In the Days of Youth, p. 21. A BRIGHT BIT ' The horse must be held in with bit and bridle.' — Psalm XXXII. g. Object — A horse's hit. I AM wondering if you litble folks can tell me what single word this object which I hold in my hand re- presents. It is one of the most important words for boys and gjrls — 'tis Obedience. I. Obedience Needed in a Soldier. — As you pass the soldiers' drill ground, a sharp word falls upon your ear : it is Attention! As quickly as the word is spoken there is a response — every man listening for the next word. An instance is given in the life of a great soldier, how that he with others was following with a hunt- ing party and that they were confronted by a gate before which stood a farm boy to protect Ihe field. The company demanded that the gate be opened. Whereupon the brave boy refused to allow anyone to pass. 'But lam the Duke of Wellington.' 'I caie not,' said the boy, ' I gave my word none should pass; I will break my word for none.' |[. Obedience Needed in the Home. — Sometimes in the midst ot play a call comes to do something or to go on an eriand. A shrug of the shoulders, a cloudy look, a sharp reply, ' I can't come now ! ' This act of disobedience may cost some one pain, and even their life. Delays are dangerous. When a lad was told there was no need to perform an act of unpleasant service, he replied to the tempter, ' My father gave me command ; I must honour his word '. Children ! the first command with promise is, ' Honour thy Father and Mother that thy days may be long in the land '. III. Obedience is God's first Demand of Man. This was the only safe condition in the Garden of Eden. By disobedience Adam fell. By obedience Christ saves. ' I must do the will of Him that sent Me.' At Cana of Galilee, where Christ performed His first miracle, the Mother of our Lord said to the waiting servants at the wedding feast, ' Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it '. Everywhere He leads me I will follow on. — A. G. Wellee, Sunday Gleams, p. 72. O TASTE AND SEE ' O taste and see.' — Psalm xxxiv. 8. Sometimes, when the Jews had a sacrifice, after the sacrifice they had a feast — a holy feast ; and at the feast they passed round a cup of wine. First, the master of the feast drank, and he gave it to the next, and asked him to drink a little drop ; then the next, and the next ; and so it passed round the whole com- pany. ' O taste and see.' 'rhere is a little about this in the eleventh chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians ; but I will not stop to look at it now. I have brought a cup to you to-day — a wonderful cup. It was not always sweet ; it was a very bitter cup for somebody ; and He said, ' If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me '. But the wonderful thing is, because He drank it, it has become a sweet cup to everybody else — so sweet to those who drink it. Do you know what that ' cup ' is ? We'll call it ' the cup of salvation '. ' O taste and see.' And I am the cup-bearer. The cup-bearer was required to ' taste ' fii-st. I hope I have tasted. I have not tasted it so much as I ought to have done ; but I hope I can say, I have tasted it a little. I have tasted it enough to say to all of you, ' O taste and see '. Religion is a thing that all must try for them- selves. Everybody in this church is old enough to try for himself or herself There are some things, you know, you can't try for youi-selves : you must believe them, because you are told of them by your father or mother. You must believe them, because somebody 251 Ver. 8. PSALM XXXIV Ver. 8. else has tokl you. That is not the case with relif;ion. Everybody is old enough — the youngest boy or girl in this church is old enough — to try for himself or her- self. You must try for yourselves. 'O taste and see.' Don't believe it because 1 say it, or anybody else says it ; but try for yourselves, ' Taste and see '. Can you think of any persons who did try for them- selves ? I will point you to three. Look at the first chapter of St. John and the forty-sixth verse, 'And Nathanael said unto him (Philip), Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth? Philip saith unto him, Come and see.' Try for yourself. Judge for yourself. And he did so. Do you think Nathanael was ever sorry he did ' taste and see ' ? Will you turn to another? John iv. 42. It is about the Samaritans : and they came to the woman and said unto her, ' Now we believe, not because of thv saying : for we have hf.ard Him ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world.' They tasted and saw for themselves. Now look at one more. Actsxvii. 11. It is about the people of Berea — let us all read it : ' These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so. There- fore many of them believed ; also of honourable women which w-'-e Greeks, and of men, not a few.' So I want to begin by saying this — that I want everybody not to take it for granted because I preach it ; but all persons ought to try for themselves whether God's word is true, and whether it is so happy a thing to be religious. Let them try. Now I am going to tell you a few things which I wish you to try. What shall we think of, first, that it is well to try, and ' taste ' ? ' Prayer.' But perhaps you say, ' I have prayed, and I have not found it so very nice '. Perhaps not. Perhaps it has been because you have not prayed. You have knelt down : you have said some words ; but perhaps you have never really prayed. I will tell you, presently, what I want you to do about prayer. But first I will tell you about a man who did ' taste and see,' and found how sweet a thing it was to pray. It is a true story. One Saturday evening a clergyman (whom I know very well) went from Cowes to Southampton, and he arrived late at Southampton, and he had to go on to preach at Winchester the next morning. The coach was gone — this happened a long time ago — therefore he could not go on that night — he might have gone on the next morning, but that being Sunday, he thought would not be right. He rang the bell and ordered the waiter to get him a gig, that he might drive on to Winchester that night. When he got into the gig he \v:is tired, and he put his cloak around him, and thought he would rest a little by going to sleep. But the thought came into his mind that it would not be right. ' Here is the man who is driving me, and I ought to try to do him good : for it says, " Be instant, in season and out of season ". When I am preaching to-morrow it will be "in season," now it would be " out of season ".' So he said to the man, ' What is your name ? ' ' John Butler,' was the reply. ' Do you know Win- chester ? ' ' Brought up there,' said he. ' Do you always drive a gig?' 'Yes, sir, always.' 'Did you ever go to school ? ' ' For a short time, sir ; but I was never much of a scholard.' ' Then, I suppose,' said the clergyman, ' you can't read the Bible ? ' ' No, sir.' 'You go to church, I suppose, and hear the Bible read there ? ' ' No, sir, because of my gig. We come home late Saturday night, and have to clean the harness, and get the gig ready — for people would not like a dirty gig.' ' Could not you do that on Monday morning?' 'No, sir; because I should lose the best day in the week for business : Sunday's the best day ! ' ' Ah ! ' said the clergyman, ' it may be the best for your pocket, and your master's, but it is not the best for your soul. It would be better if you were to give up Sunday work and go to church. Do you ever pray ? ' ' No, I don't know how. I used to be able to pray when a little boy, but I have forgotten it all now.' Said the clergyman, ' I will teach you.' ' No, I can't remember it,' said the man. ' Well, try ; it shall be a short prayer — only twelve words — I will teach you to learn it. Now, John, the prayer is this, " O Lord God, for Jesus Christ's sake, give me Thy Holy Spirit ". That is not very long. I think you might learn it three words at a time — " O Lord God " — "For Jesus Christ's" — "Sake, give me" — "Thy Holy Spirit ". Do you understand it ? ' And then the clergyman tried to make him under- stand it I will not stop to explain that now ; but when he had done this, he said, 'John, it is a prayer you can say when you are cleaning the harness, and driving the gig. You can say it on Sundays and on weekdays — with your heart, if not with your lips.' The clergyman, having said thus, felt tired, and leaned back in the gig ; he did not go to sleep, but he prayed God to bless what he had said to the poor man. By and by they reached Winchester ; and as they drove into the town, John said, ' I have said the prayer a great many times, sir ; will you hear me ? ' Then he re]jeated it quite perfectly. Then the clergy- man said, ' Now, John, remember and say it constantly.' ' Yes, sir,' said John. And so they parted. A great many yeai's y)assed away, when, one day, the same clergyman went back to Southampton ; and as he was walking out, he saw a board on a house — 'John Butler. Carriages, horses, and gigs for hire.' He thought, ' I wonder whether this is my old friend ; I will go and knock at the door.' A respectable woman opened it. ' Does John Butler live here ? ' ' He has gone to the stable.s, sir,' was the reply, ' but I will send for him at once.' When he came in and saw the clergyman, he looked at him very hard, and soon recognised him. ' Beant you the gentleman I drove to Winchester some time ago ? ' ' Yes, my friend.' 'Then, sir, let me tell you, I have cause to bless God for that drive ! I am happier now than 252 Ver. 8. PSALM XXXIV Ver. 8. then.' 'Then,' said the clergyman, 'tell us all about it — how it lia])pened.' 'Well, sir, I said that prayer everywhere, at all times. I was always saying it At first it did not do me any good, but only made me more unhappy. But I went on saying it. One day I passed a church, and I went in, and the minister was just beginning his sermon, and he said, "The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cJeanseth us from all sin ! " And that sermon made me so happy. A load fell off my nn'nd. From that time I never drove my gig on a Sunday. God has prospered me. I have a nice wife, nice children, and plenty of money for everything I want' . . . He tasted a little sip of prayer, and he found the good of it. Now I will tell you what to do about prayer. Have you ever done it ? Find out in the Bible some promise — any promise you like — then go to God with that promise. Say, 'Now, Lord, here is this promise. Thou hast put it into the Bible. I am sure it is true. Now, Lord, I have come to ask that this promise may be true to me ; that I may enjoy it for Christ's sake. Let it be good to me.' ' O taste and see.' Try ; and I promise you if you will try, you will ' see ' — not, per- haps, all in a minute — you may have to wait a little ; but if you go on waiting and praying, you will 'see' presently. Now I will go on to another thing I want you to 'taste and see.' Read the Bible. I do not know whether all are in the habit (as many as can read) of reading a little bit of the Bible every day. Perhaps, if you do, you are saying, ' I do not find it so pleasant '. I will tell you what somebody said, it was ' better than tasting honey '. He said that twice, if not three times — in Psalms xix. and cxix. This he said of only a portion of the Bible — the Pentateuch — he had not so much as we have. ' Sweeter than honey, and the honeycomb.' We should not, perhaps, say those fii-st five books were the sweetest, but he thought so. I should like to tell you about a very great man — I have told you about a poor man, John Butler, now I will tell you about a gi-eat man who lived eleven hundred years ago — his name was ' Bede ' — The Venerable Bede — a learned and a good man. When Bcde was a boy he began to love his Bible — mark that ! and he loved it so that he read it every day of his life, and I will tell you how much he loved it. He had a long illness when an old man ; and a clergy- man— called a ' scholar ' in those days — writes word that for fifty days they took in turns to read the Bible together. He says, ' We read and wept, and wept and read ' — they never read without weeping, not unhappy tears, but sweet tears — 'We read and wept, and wept and read for fifty days, and when we had done reading, we wept '. Bede, holy man ! was translating the gospel, the Greek version into Old English— he began before his illness, but finished it in his illness : when he came to the last chapter, he said to the young clergyman who was reading it to him, ' We have reached the last chapter. You must write fast — for I am soon going. I hope God will spare me to finish it. It is such a happy task ! ' He wrote on and on ; at last the young man said, ' We have come to the last vei'se, sir.' ' Oh ! have we ? " the last verse ! " Go on ; go on ; I am soon going ; but I hope God will spare me to finish the last verse I ' At length the young man said, ' It is finished ! it is finished ! ' Said Bede, 'Good words — my Loicl — it is finished. All is fini>hed for me. 0 blessed Bible — sweet Bible! — I should like to get out of bed (the old man said) and sit in that chair where I have often been so happy in reading that Bible ! ' They lifted him into the chair, and when there, he folded his hands and said, ' Glory to God in the highest : and on earth peace, good will toward men'. His head sank — and such was the end of the Venerable Bede ! I do not say you will always find reading the Bible so pleasant — because some things we must do as a duty, and they become pleasant as we go on. I have found that in reading the Bible ; do it as a duty, and the pleasure will follow. 'O taste and see.' Now I want to go on to another thing. Some of you won't understand me when I say the pleasantest thing in all the world is to feel forgiven — to feel God loves you. ' My sins are forgiven. God loves me.' It is the happiest feeling anybody ever has this side of heaven. Do you know it ? I wish you did. The thought that Jesus Christ has foi'given you. ' O taste and see' I will tell you about a boy who did ' taste and see'. The boy is called Sam Williams ; in the same class at school with him was Jonathan Hardy. One day Jonathan walked out into the fields, and was not at all happy in his mind. He felt vexed about things. Sam overtook Jonathan, and said, ' I am happy, very happy '. ' I am not happy,' said Jonathan, ' I wonder what has made you happy ?' 'I will tell you,' said Sam. ' God has forgiven me. I used to be unhappy. 1 was very cross and irritable — envied everybotly — the squire his fine place, my master, and everybody ! and I was cross at home : till one day I came home from work, and opened my Bible on the word " happy ". I looked at the wojd. Who is " happy " ? How are we to be "happy"? Then I looked at the words, " A^k, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you ". Sit- ting over my Bible a long time, I thought I should like to be " happy ". I tried to pray ; but could not find anything to say. At last I said, " God be merci- ful to me a sinner". Again and again I said this. I came downstairs — no happier. I went about as usual and felt very miserable. I thought of all my sins ; all sorts of things came into my mind ; how, when a boy, I used to sit in that horrid " Black Horse Inn," and laugh at all good people, and good things. They seemed like a great mountain, and a voice said, " You are too bad ever to be forgiven ! You are lost! " All this I felt. I was miserable. I went on thinking about these things and could get no com- fort. One day I went to church — for the first time for a long while, and heard those words, " Believe on ?53 Ver. 8. PSALM XXXIV Ver. 8. the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved ". That would do all : that is the way to be " happy ". I looked to that Saviour : the burden fell from me. I have been a " happy" boy since. Now, Jonathan, you are unhappy — do the same, and see if it does not make you happy too.' That was the sense of forgiveness. The load fell off, and he was happy. Vou are not ' happy ' ; not because you have difficult lessons, or trials, or disap- pointments, or pain ! but it is because your sins are not forgiven : or you do not know that your sins are forgiven. You do not carry about with you the idea that God loves you. ' O taste and see ; ' don't take it at my word ; but ' taste and see ' for your- selves. Now another thing. It is a happy thing to conquer one's sins ; to keep one's heart clear. It is a pleasant thing to weed a garden ; but the pleasantest of all is to keep your heart free from weeds. I should like to tell you about Jerry. Little Jerry was a very little fellow ; he had a good mother who used to read the Bible to him ; and the part he liked most was about little Samuel : and Jerry used to say, ' I wonder whether God will ever call me — how I would jump up if He did'. 'But Jerry,' said his mother, ' God does speak to you.' ' Does God speak in my ears ? ' ' No, but your heart has ears ; and God speaks to the ears of your heart, and He says, " Jerry," when you are going to do something naughty — " Jerry, that's wrong — Jerry, stop ! " ' He said to his mother, ' Does God say that to all people ? ' ' Yes, but most of all to little children.' She was quite right ; because when people grow up to be men and women, God does not say it so often, if they have not listened when little children. ' Most of all to little children.' But I am son-y to tell you Jerry had a fault — he was greedy, and he liked nice things too much, and sometimes he would do what was wrong to get nice things. Everybody knew that he was rather a greedy boy. Soon after this conversation, Jeiry came home very hungry indeed ; and he came up to his elder sister, called ' Nancy,' and said, ' I am very hungry'. She said, ' You may go to mother's cupboard, and there you will find an apple — eat that ; that will do for you till mother comes home '. When he went to the cupboard to get the apple, he saw there, among many other things, such a nice plum cake, beautiful plums, a great deal of sugar over it ; it was cut, and the knife in the plate was dirty ; no one would find out if he took a little bit, and a voice said, ' Take a bit, Jerry. Be quick. Take it, Jerry, take it ! ' Just as he was going to take it, another voice said, ' Jerry ! Jerry ! ' and he listened ; and he thought of Samuel, and of ■what his mother said ; and he slammed-to the door, and ran off as fast as he could. When he went to bed at night, his mother came to kiss him and tuck him up, and he said to her, ' Mother, I have had such a wicked voice come to my heart, and such a good voice — and God helped me, and I obeyed the good voice, it seemed to say, " JeiTy ! Jerry ! " I did not eat the cake ; but I tasted some- thing sweeter than the cake.' . . . ' O taste and see.' Now you ' taste and see ' whether it is not sweeter than anything to conquer sin ! Now I must go on to another thing. I am going to mention two more ; we have had prayer — the Bible • — feeling that we ai'e forgiven, and conquering sin — we'll have two more if you please : the next thing I am going to mention is a very happy thing if you will try it — Work, work. Will you remember this ? Light in the head- love in the heart — work in the fingers. Light in the head— that is knowledge, wisdom : that will not do without love in the heart ; and that will not do with- out work in the fingers. I know people that have light and love, but no work — therefore they are not happy : but these three things will make anybody- happy. Light in the head : plenty of love in the heart : love to God, and man ; plenty of good works for the fingers. That is the way to be happy. Do something useful. Be kind. Do good to somebody. A poor man came home one day and brought five peaches : nice, beautiful peaches. He had four sons ; he gave one to each and one to his wife. He did not say anything, but just gave them. At night he came home again, and then he said, ' How were the peaches — all nice ? ' I will tell you what each of the four boys said. The eldest boy said, ' Oh yes, father, delicious. I ate my peach, and then I took the stone very care- fully, and went and planted it in the garden, that we may have another peach-tree some day.' ' Well,' said the father, ' very prudent ; look out for the future.' Then the little boy said, ' Oh father, 'twas exceed- ingly nice. I ate all mine, and mother gave me half hers, and I threw away the stone.' 'Well,' said the father, ' I am glad you liked it, but perhaps if you had been a little older, you would have acted differently.' The second boy said, ' Yes, father, I will tell you what I did with mine ; I picked up the stone my little brother threw away, broke it, and ate the kernel ; I enjoyed that exceedingly ; but I did not eat my peach, I sold it. I could buy a dozen peaches with what I got for it.' The father said, ' That may be right, but I think it was a little covetous.' Then he said to the third boy, ' Well, Edward, what did you do with your peach } ' Edward came forward reluctantly ; but in answer to his father he replied, ' I took it to poor little George who is sick down the lane. He would not take it, so I left the peach on his bed and ran away.' Which of the four peaches was sweetest ? ' Taste and see' the way to enjoy anything. Now, one more thing. Everything is sweet till you have tasted a sweeter. The pleasures of the world are sweet to people who have never tasted religion ; but people who have tasted Divine pleasures care not much for the pleasures of the world I have known jieople religious all their lives who have never tasted the pleasures of the world ; and I have known people 254 Ver. 8. PSALM XXXIV., XX XVI I Ver. 1. worldly all their lives who never ta^^ted the pleasures of religion ; and I have known persons who have tasted the pleasures of the world one portion of their lives, and the pleasures of religion the other portion ; and I have never known persons who have tasted both but have said, ' The pleasures of religion are the sweetest '. And they can give the Inst opinion. Everybody must say heavenly pleasures are better than earthly ones. I must tell you something — not exactly a story, but something like one — and I hope you will under- stand it. It is not true. There was a man who once lived in a place where, close to his house, he had a spring of water. At a little distance from him there was another spring. We'll rail the spring close to his house ' the nether spring,' the lower spring ; and the other, a little wa}- off, ' the upper spring '. So he had ' the nether ' and ' the upper ' spring. The 'nether spring' looked very pleasant when the sun was shining, the water sparkled in its rays ; yet, when looked at more closely, the water was black and dark, and very often got muddy, and the flowers on the side of it never lasted long ; and people who drank a great deal of the water from the ' nether ' spring seemed to grow sick. The other spring a little way off came out of the rock ; it required a great deal of patience to get it ; but if the cup was held long enough it would always get filled, and you were never sick from it. Now this man who lived in the cottage near ' the nether spring' always went to it, he did not like the trouble of going to ' the upper spring '. He had not sufficient patience. So it went on for many years. At last he came to ' the nether spring ' and it was dry, not a drop of water in it — all dry. So he was obliged to go to ' the upper spring ' ; he had to wait some time, and at last he had a cup of nice, pure water. It was so sweet, and he enjoyed it much. He never before tasted such water. The ' nether spring ' flowed on again, but ever after he went to the ' upper ' ; and when asked why he went so far he said, ' I cannot leave the upper spring ; having once tasted it I cannot go back to the nether spiing.' ' O taste and see.' I do not think you quite understand it. You do a little. Try to understand it fully. ' Taste and see.' So you see there are six things vou are to ' taste and see' — prayer — the Bible — the feeling that you are forgiven — the conquering of your sin — doing some work for God, and heavenly pleasure — 'the upper spring '. ' O taste and see ! ' Now you are going away. Don't say ' I have heard a sermon and it is done,' but go and see and try for yourselves those six things. Everybody is old enough, and I am sure you will never regret it ; but you will be happier. ' O taste and see ' ; and when you have ' tasted ' yourself, oh make known the result to all around — far and near — your school-fellows, and friends, and all — as well as the heathen abroad. ' O taste and see.' ' O taste and see.' — James Vaugh.\n. AN INVITATION Come, ye children, hearken unto me : I will teach you the fear of the Lord.' — Psalm xxxiv. ii. NoTlCF, I. The Teacher who Invites. — Don't know who first said the words, but our Great Teacher is always saving them. Here now saying them to us (Matt. xviii.'SOl. Think— 1. How wise He is. Made the world (Col. i. 16, 17). Became a child — so knows all about children — just how they feel, etc. Grew to be a man — so knows all about men. 2. How kind He is. Think : I am coming to the Great Teacher- — so wise — so kind — He wants to teach me ! ' How does He teach } ' Sometimes by the hymns. Sometimes by the chapters from the Bible. Sometimes by the sermon. Different ways. [Just as in school — different books, black-board, etc.]. II. The Scholars Invited. — 'Ye children.' 1. Actual children. Always glad to teach them. 2. All others. Cf Matthew xviii. 3; John in. 3. Two things they must do : — 1. Come.- — Can't learn if they keep away from teacher. Can keep away from Jesus Christ's school just as from others. 2. Hearken. — 'Nothing to pay.' Yes, you must pay attention. III. The Lesson. — Now we have the children in school, and the teacher ready to teach them. What is the lesson to be about ? The fear of the Lord ; i.e., how to trust God— best of all lessons. ' Begin with the alphabet ? ' Well, this is the alphabet. Proverbs i. 7 ; ix. 10. But it is a great deal more besides. Cf Proverbs xv. 33, ' The instruc- tion of wisdom ' ; xiv. 27, a fountain of life. ' By it ' (xxii. 4) 'ai-e riches and honour and life.' Cf text : ' No want to tliem that fear Him '. [Not have all our wishes, but shall have all our wants supplied. — C. A. GooDHART, Hints and Outlines for Children's Services, p. 125. FRETFULNESS 'Fret not thyself because of evil-doers.' — Psalm xxxvii. i I HOPK none of the children will forget to look out in the Bil)le the text of every sermon, and do it with- out help from others ; for in this way you will soon learn to find any book, chapter, and verse in the Bible. At the first you will need to remember the text to-day : ' Fret not thyself ; for some of you will look in the wrong place for the text. If the text were in First John you might look in the Go.spel of John and not in his First Epistle, and so not finding the text you might fret about it. Now, if you will find the thirty-seventh Psalm and read it, you will see that the words : ' Fret not thyself,' are several times repeated ; and I am going to preach you a sermon on fretfulness or peevishness. 255 Ver. 1. PSALM XXXVII Ver. 3. Perhaps you think that I do not know what fretful- ness, peevishness, is ; but I do know what it is. For I have felt it, and seen it, and heard it, and read about it, and had it. I can tell you just what it is. And if I were to go into some of your homes I should find it there, and know it from the first word it would speak. If any boy or girl, father or mother, in your home has it, it will reveal itself in a little while in some word or act, though he or she should try hard to hide it. Let me tell you what it is. To be peevish is to be habitually or constantly fretful, to be easily vexed or fretted, to be cross, hard to please, ill-natured, testy, irritable, waspish, apt to mutter and complain, petulant, discontented, captious. I see by vour faces that you know it, and that you recognise it as something vou have taken to bed with you at night which awakened with you in the morn- ing, and which you have nursed all the day long. You all know what fretfulness, peevishness is. But some of you do not like that old and true name peevishness, and so you call it nervousness, as though to change its name were to change its nature. But it is the same old, unhappy, annoying thing that we have described, call it by what name you will. I wish you would turn it out-of-doors, and never let it come in again , for then how happy your homes would be ! For no fretful, peevish, cross, ill-tempered boy or girl, man or woman, ever was happy or able to make others happy. The habit of being fretful never makes one feel well, or look well, or act well, or speak well. It makes the face cross, the words sharp, the acts hateful, the heart sour, the life petulant, the boy or girl, man or woman, so disagree- able that nobody likes them. We like those that have smiling faces, sweet words, kind actions, and a 'thank you' for everything. But no one while peevish ever has these. A wasp has a sharp sting that hurts, so has a peevish boy or gii'l, whose words are like stings and whose acts are like sharp pins. No wonder, then, that the text says . ' Fret not thy- self because of evil-doers '. Do you say : ' I cannot help it. I feel cross, crabbed, out of sorts ; and I speak and act as I feel ? ' That is just what you ought not to do. If you give way to your feelings you make yourself more fretful, and torment others about you. There is nothing but evil in it, to you and to others. That is not the way to get rid of cross feelings ; but I will tell you how to do it, and if you try hard to follow the way you will soon be rid of petulant feelings and peevish habits. This is the way : When you feel cross or fretful or angry, walk across the room three times without saying a word, and you will fee! better ; and if you will do this every time you are peevish it will soon cure you altogether. Try it. I used to try it when at school. If I could not get my lessons as quickly as I desired I became nervous, peevish, vexed. It fretted me as it does you. It was foolish in me, as it is in you, to be fret- ful over so small a matter; and so I said: 'I will break myself of it, lest it become a fixed habit '. To do so I would leave my book for a minute or two, walk across the room a few times, say nothing, and presently the feeling of petulance would pass away ; I would feel better ; then I would go back to my study and learn my lesson quickly. If you will do this when you feel cross or peevish, and want to say or do some hateful thing, you will soon cease to be fretful and become pleasant. If you, every time you feel petulant, will stop, say nothing, do nothing ill- natured, but walk across the floor a few times, you will find that a sweet spirit will drive out the bitter spirit, gentle words will come in place of the stinging words, and kind acts instead of petulant. You will soon learn not to fz'et yourself over any evil. This will cure any case of peevishness which mav afflict you and others. And why should you not try it ? It will turn your pouting and crying and fretting and scolding into smiles and sweetness and love. It will turn many a child into an angel of light, many a home into a paradise of joy. Try it the very next time you feel peevish, and every time — for once will not do — and it will make you happy. But fretting does you no good ; it makes you and all in the home unhappy ; it does nothing but harm. Why not turn it out of your hearts and homes, and never let it in again ? Why not be rid of it at once and for ever ? ' Fret not thyself because of evil-doers.' ' Fret not thyself.' God forbids all peevishness, fretfulness. — A. Hastings Ross, Sermons for Children, p. 279. THE WAY TO BE GOOD ' Trust in the Lord, and do good ; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.' — Psalm xxxvii. 3. My text says, ' Trust in the Lord, and do good ; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.' There are two lands. What land is that where there is pleasure and no pain, where there is day and no night, and where flowers never fade ? That land is heaven ; the land where Jesus is — where Jesus reigns. The land that Jesus bought and prepares for His people. How are you to get there ? ' "Trust in the Lord, and do good.' Is there food there ? There must be something there that keeps people alive, for nobody dies there. In this land we die, and are put into the grave ; but no- body dies there. Here we get sick, but no one is sick there. Here we hunger and thirst, but nobody is hungry or thirsty there. Here we want clothes, but in that land nobody wants anything at all. Would you like to get to that land where the sun must shine so sweetly, and the people must look .so happy ? There is no pain there — no sickness, no sorrow, no death. There must be a great many beautiful things there. But can you reach that land, and dwell therein for ever ? Yes, you can. But how can you reach it ? Jesus is the way to it ; Jesus is the door into it ; and Jesus is the life. And you can get into the way, and get through the door, and get at the life by trusting in the Lord Jesus. We like to be well-oft' in this land also. It is 256 Ver. 3. PSALM XXXVII Ver. 3. a very good thing to get food and clothes, and to spend our lives pleasantly on eaith. But can we do so? Yes! 'Trust in the Lord, and do good ' If we do, God will give us His blessing and we shall be fed. How good God is. All the good of heaven, and all the good of earth, too, comes from God, through Jesus. 'Can you praise the Lord?' said a man once to an Indian. ' I can,' said he ; ' hut my tongue is too short to praise Him as I would like.' He thought if he had a longer tongue he could praise Him better. Our voices are not loud enough, nor our tongues sweet enough, to praise Him as we ought. Some of you, perhaps, remember reading about John Newton. When he was a very old man he said, ' I have forgotten almost everjthing I knew '. Though once a very wicked man, he was then, and had been for a long time, a good and godly man. ' Two things,' said he, ' I cannot forget : one is that I am a very great sinner, the other is that Jesus Christ is a very great Saviour.' Don't forget these two things. May God put them into your heads and hearts. You cannot get good unless from God, through Jesus, by the Spirit ; and you cannot do good unless God helps you. There are manv ways appointed for getting help from God — praying is one way. Did you ever hear oi the little boy, six years old, who went with his mother when she was looking for a lodging. At length she agreed to take a room, for which she was to pay three shillings each week. But as they were going away the little boy began to cry. ' Oh ! mother, mother,' said he, ' what made you take that room?' 'Why, my dear,' said she, ' that is a beautiful room. It is a great deal a better room than the one we had before.' ' Oh, mamma,' he said, ' it is not near so good ; there is no closet for prayer in it.' There was a little hole off the other place in which he prayed, where he was all alone, and no eai' heard him but that of God. And he cried because he had no place where he could retire and pour out his heart before God. Prayer is a sure way of getting help. Did you ever hear of little Peter who was sent with a message by his father on a snowy evening ? The snow was falling heavily ; and as poor Peter was trying to get on he lost his way, and after wander- ing about for a good while in the snow he fell down into a deep ditch. Well, there he was, and ten o'clock, eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock came ; and until two o'clock in the morning poor little Peter was cry- ing for help. He was only able to say lost ! lost ! lost ! There was a gentleman living near who hap- pened just then to open his window and he heard the voice. Being a kind-hearted, good-natured man he rang the bell, and called up his servant, and sent him out to search. At last the servant found the poor little fellow shivering and shaking, and almost dead with cold. He took him up, wiped off the snow and brought him to the good man's house, wrapped him up in a blanket, and afterwards got him a warm drink ; then they put him into bed, and by and by he was so much recovered that he was able to tell where he lived. In the morning they brought him home to his father, and very soon he was as well and as happy as ever. If he had not felt that he was lost, and if he had not cried out for help, and if his cry had not reached the ear of one that had kindness and compassion enough to seek and to save him, he would have died in the snow. Children, you, too, are lost ; cry out that you are lost — cry up to heaven — cry mightily to God ; He can save you ; ' now is the accepted time ' ; — ' seek ye the Lord while He may be found ; call ye upon Hira while He is near '. Jesus will hear you ; the windows of heaven are ever open ; every prayer sent up from earth, through Jesus, goes through those windows, and Jesus comes and saves all who cry to Him for help — not one of them will be lost. ' Call upon Me in the day of trouble,' He says, ' I will deliver thee.' I must tell you a story about a poor Indian. He came to a house and said to the owner, ' I am hungry and weak ; will you give me a little bread ? ' ' I cannot,' said the man. ' Will you give me a little milk?' said he again. 'I cannot,' said the man. ' Will you give me a little water ? ' said he, then. ' Get 3'ou gone, you Indian dog ; you are very troublesome,' said the man. The Indian looked at him and walked away. Some time after this man, while hunting, was passing through a wild country, and going up to a hut he asked an Indian how far hs was from home. ' Too far,' said the Indian, ' to get there to-night ; you would be devoured by the wolves.' The Indian asked him to come in ; he gave him his own bed and the best food he had, and sat up all the night in his room to guard him. In the morning he went with him, and led him in safety through the forest to his own place and to his own people. 'Sir,' said he, then, 'did you ever see me before ? ' 'I think I did, but I do not know where.' ' I once knocked at your door,' said the Indian, ' I asked you for food, or even for a drink of water, but you said, " Get you gone, you Indian dog ". There is your home — there are your people. You were wel- come to rest in my house ; welcome to my fire and my food ; but if ever a poor Indian knocks at your door again for food do not turn him awav and call him an Indian dog.' The Indian acted like a good man, and the Christian acted like a bad man. Children, while you fear God, and seek His Spirit — while you trust in Jesus, and love Him ; while you read of Jesus, and sing of Jesus, remember that you should be kind to every one, and especially at home ; ask God to make you, and then try to be, good sons and good daughters, good brothers and good sisters. I nearly forgot to tell you of a good brother, only six years old, who was playing with his little sister who was only four. A terrible mad dog, with his mouth open, rushed at them. The fearless boy immediately took up his jacket, put it round his hand, faced the dog, and thrust the hand into his mouth, while the little girl ran away. Some men coming up, cried out, ' Oh ! you sad little rogue of a fellow, why did you not run away ? ' ' Because,' said he, ' my dear 257 17 Ver. 3. PSALM XXXVII Ver. 4. sister would be torn by the dog if I did.' The brave and noble child kept his hand in the dog's mouth till the men came up and killed him. The right brothers will be fond of their sisters, and will be kind to them ; they will try to guard them from mad dogs, and bad men, and everything that is bad. The good brothers and good sisters will ' trust in the Lord and do good' to each other and 'to all men'. — John Gregg, Sermons to Children, p. 117. MARCHING ORDERS ' Trust in the Lord, and do good.'— Psalm xxxvii. 3. Here is a motto for you — something to keep always before you. The words are all one-syllable words, so the littlest of you all can master them, but they are like little seeds that bear great fruits, for the whole Bible is packed up for us here. Trust — -that is the first thing, and Do — that is the next, and you must keep them in that order. Some people reverse them, and put do first and trust next — but these are the people who are always trying to make the stream flow uphill ; they can't do it, and are only wasting their strength. Trust first, then — trust first. For trust goes up to God, and we never make a right beginning about anything till we begin with Him. So trust Him, trust Him first, trust Him last, and trast Him all between. And Do, that's the next thing : that has to do with father and mother, your brothers and sisters, and everybody in the wide, wide world. Trust — that is to get light and wisdom and strength from God to do what we should do as long as we are here on the earth. Did you ever row a boat with only one oar ? Then you remember how you went round and round, but never forward. Did you ever see a bird try to fly with one wing broken ? Then you remember how the poor thing made scurry enough, but it never mounted upward. It is just the same with us when we try to go by only one or other of these words. If we trust but do not do, or if we do but do not trust, then we are like the boat with one oar or the bird with one wing — we shall be going round and round, and round and round, but getting no nearer to God, to happiness or to blessing. We must have both oars and both wings, and the name of the one is trust, and the name of the other do. But, trust what, and do what ? It is all told us here. ' Trust in the Lord.' He is Almighty — He never fails : He is everlasting — He never dies : they that trust in Him shall never have cause to be ashamed. ' And do — good.' That's simple — that's clear : it covers everything— from mending baby's doll, and helping Charlie with his lessons, up to help- ing boys and girls and men and women to know and love the Saviour— for in all that, and in all that comes between, you can be doing good. Stick to your rights, then. Let other people say as they will that they have a right to do this or a right to do that, never do you forget that there is only one thing in all the world you have a right to do, and that is — a right to do good. Hold fast by that, and let no one ever take from you the right that God has given you. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Pew, p. 180. THE FOUNTAIN OF DELIGHT ' Delight thyself also in the Lord ; and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart.' — Psalm xxxvii. 4. There are many beautiful psalms in the Psalter, but I am disposed to think that this psalm is the most beautiful of them all. I. Has the Psalmist, who knows so much, and has seen so much that nothing seems to surprise or dis- turb him, anything to say to you. any encouraging counsel and assurance ? He has this to say : ' Rest in the Lord ; Roll your burden on the Lord, and wait patiently for Him. He will open a door for you ; He will clear the way before you, if only you are patient and look to Him, desiring to sei-ve Him in all you do. The waiting may be as good for you as any work could be. It may prove to be a part, and the best part, of the discipline by which He is preparing you for your proper work in the world. And be sure of this : He will not suffer any capacity for service to go unused. Wait patiently, then, and you will work patiently by and by ; and patience in well-doing is the most effective quality of all, the most certain of success. Wait ; and work while you wait, and sweeten both the work and the waiting by trust in Him.' Again : almost all of you, I suppose, take it for granted that you would be quite happy if you could only change your outward circumstances and shape them to your mind ; if you could get as much money as you would like, for example, and live in the com- pany you like, and get the sort of work you like ; or perhaps even you feel that you could dispense with work altogether if only you could have everything else to your taste. You crave pleasure, variety of scene and action, and think you could be content if you had the world at your feet. But could you f All through this Psalm the wise kind writer of it is asking you to consider that assumption. The con- trast he draws between the good man and the bad man, with their respective ends, is intended to sug- gest to you such questions as these : ' If I lived ia the best company in the world, and had a bad heart, could I be happy then ? If I had all the money in the world, and all that money can bring, with a haunted conscience, could I be at peace then ? ' The truth he sets himself to teach you is that it is not any change in outward conditions which robs us of our peace ; but our unruled affections, our excessive cravings, our ill-regulated desires. The fountain of peace is within us, not outside us. If a bad toothache, an aching nerve, would make the wealthiest and most prosperous of men miserable, how much more would a wounded and alarmed conscience, or a sullen, suspicious, and selfish heart ? But the 258 Ver. 8. PSALM XXXVIT Ver, 8. poorest of men can afford to keep a good conscience and a kindly heart, i.e. he may po.ssess all that is essential to peace. II. You must not imagine, however, that the wise old man who speaks so gravely to you takes an austere and gloomy view of human life. To no man was life ever more bright and serene. Nor must you imagine that he frowns on your craving for pleasure, for delight ; or that he bids you mortify the natural and eager desires of your hearts. On the contrary, he shows you where you may find the truest and most enduring delight, and promises that the inmost and deejiest desires of your heart shall be satisfied. And I dare say that nothing in the whole Psalm seems so strange, so incredible to you as this pro- mise, the promise of my text. Yet it is simply and obviously true, as I will try to show you. Only, if you would see it to be true, you must take the whole verse together, and not a part of it by itself What the Psalmist really promises you is that if you de- light yourselves in the Lord, the Lord will satisfy your utmost craving for delight ; that if you desire Him, He will give vou the desire of your heart. The things that last are the soul and the relations of the soul to God. The things that satisfy are a soul at peace with God, a sou! that can find its delight in Him ; sympathy with His will ; a love which springs to meet His love ; and the assm-ance that nothing can ever separate us from His love. These are the true, the supreme, realities. All else will change or jjass, but these never. Change and death have no power over them. They will be your light and joy here, and then your light and joy through the great hereafter. Begin, then, to delight yourselves in the Lord, and begin at once, that He may at once begin to give you the desires of your heart. — Samuel Cox, The Bird's Nest, p. 238. FRETFULNESS 'Fret not thyself, else shalt thou be tempted to do evil.'— Psalm xxxvii. 8. What does the word to fret mean ? Why, it means to rub and rub something, till, by degrees, its outside surface becomes worn away. You read in the Psalms about a moth fretting a garment. I have seen a machine, in which a thread of silk had continually to run round a cylinder of glass a thousand times or more in a minute, and this for ten hours a day. At the end of some years you could just see a channel which this thread had worn in the glass, a tiny line. Think, then, how very, very small each of the gi'ains must have been that the thread ground out, when it took so many years, with such hard rubbing every day, to make a line which should be seen at all. Well, here we read of another kind of fretting or wearing away, the fretting or wearing away ourselves. And the person who gives way to that we call, as you know, a fretful person. A very common sin it is, one. of the commonest that I know, especially among children ; and here we haive a Psalm, as we also have a chapter in the Book of Proverbs, to warn us against it. Now, what do we mean by fretting ? It is not the same thing as anger; it is not the same as dis- content ; it is not at all the same as hatred ; it is not the same as impatience ; but it has something to do with all of these. It is the being always apt to make a little murmuring against the state of life, or the circumstances for the time being, that God places us in. There is nothing great in it ; a man may be in a great passion, or indulge great hatred, but we hardly talk about fretting greatly. No ; it is a little wearing complaint; always at it, never leaving off; perpetually rubbing, as the silk did the glass. We have several instances of it in the Bible. Jonah was fretful about the gourd that came up in a night and perished in a night Jacob was fretful when he said, ' All these things are against me '. The children in the market-place were fretful, when, as our Lord tells, if piped to they would not dance, and if mourned to they would not lament. Now this is a sin which people will give way to all their lives, and hardly seem to consider a real sin at all. You all know how disagreeable a fretful person or a fretful child is. It does not matter that it is a little discontent, a little murmuring, a little complain- ing ; it is the continual dropping that wears away the stone, not the bigness of this or that drop. And now see. A fretful person does not dare to say outright what he feels. If he did it would be this: 'God is dealing very hardly and unjustly with me. He always does deal very hardly and unjustly with me. I should be so glad to get such and such a thing which so and so have, and it is never given to me, though it is to them plentifully. Or, I should be so thankful to get rid of this or that pain, but I am sure to have it.' A good example of a fretful speech is that of the elder brother of the Prodigal Son : ' Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment : and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends : but as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with har- lots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf. And see why this is such a sin. In the first place, because it is telling God not only that He does visit us after our iniquities, but that He is continually sending on us much more than we deserve. So no one that is humble can ever be fretful. Ah ! if we only would think what that means which Jeremiah says, ' It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not ' — what ? that we are not punished ? that we are not cast out as unprofitable servants? that we are not beaten with many stripes ? much more than all this : ' It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not con- sumed '. With so much that is done for us, and such a return that we make ; with so much help, and yet we are not helped ; with so much encouragement, and yet we will not be encouraged ! Therefore fret- fulness can only come from pride. And that is not all : there is a kind of deceit in it, too. We do not dare to say openly, 'God is dealing unjustly and 259 Ver. 8. PSALM XXXVII Ver. 8 cruelly with me'; so instead of complaining of Him, we complain of those about us. But He sees that it is but a deceitful and lying way of showing our ill- temper to Him, by professing to feel it with some one else. What did Jacob say when he was angry and annoyed about the loss of his children? 'Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away.' Te will ! It was not his sons' doings : it was God's ordering : and it was God with whom, in very deed, Jacob was angry. See how Moses spoke about this, when the children of Israel were speaking against Aaron and himself: ' What are we that ye murmur against us ? your murmurings are not against us, but against God '. And so it is over and over again now. You are fretful among your companions, you say peevish discontented things to them ; and you in real truth are speaking against God. You try to hide it from them ; you even try to hide it from yourselves, but from God you cannot hide it. Remember that text : ' The eyes of the Lord are ten thousand times brighter than the sun, beholding all the ways of men '. Your poor miserable peevish complainings are against Him, not the less because you will not own it ; nay, the sin is all the greater, because, besides murmur- ing against Him, you are trying to deceive Him too. And see how remarkably the text goes on : ' Fret not thyself, else shalt thou be moved to do evil '. And that shows us how Satan is always ready, always waiting, always on the watch, to see when we may best be tempted, and to tempt us at that particular moment. There is good need that God's priests should say to you what the watchman in Israel cried to them that inquired of him. It is a very singular text ; therefore attend to it : there is no text which teaches more : ' For thus hath the Lord said unto me. Go set a watchman, let him declare what he seeth. And he saw a chariot with a couple of horsemen, a chariot of asses, and a chariot of camels : and he hearkened diligently with much heed ' : and he cried — what do you suppose ? One should imagine per- haps that he cried of what he had seen ; but no : ' and he cried, A Uon ' ; and then he went on to tell what he had seen. Why did he cry a lion first ? We hear nothing about a lion in the text before. Because whatever happens to us, or whatever we have to do, we are always close to that lion who 'walketh about seeking whom he may devour,' even Satan : and therefore of him the watchman gave warning, in the first place. Notice what we read in the Proverbs : ' The slothful man saith, There is a lion in the way : I shall be slain in the streets '. Now he is not sloth- ful or to blame for the first part of what he -^aid. A lion is in the way, that is true enough. A lion is in all our ways, as long as we are in this world ; and that is why Isaiah, wi-iting of heaven, says, 'No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon, it shall not be found there '. But he is slothful for saying, ' I shall be slain in the streets,' instead of believing that God is able to deliver us, if we trust in Him, from the teeth of this spiritual lion. as he delivered David from the ' paw of the lion and out of the paw of the bear '. Well, then, at all times Satan is ready to attack us : but sometimes we almost invite him to assault us. Sometimes we put oureelves into such a condition that, if he does attack us, we shall hardly be able to resist him. You know when any infectious disease is about, like the cholera, or the typhus fever, we are all exposed to the danger of it. But there are certain things which if we do, — there is certain food which if we eat, — we shall be far more likely to take it. And therefore the physicians put forth notices what people ought not to do, ought not to eat, if they are to avoid the disease. Just so it is with oui" souls ; and so Jiere, God, who is the Great Physician, tells us what we are not to do, if we wish to be ]ireserved from the attack of Satan : ' Fret not thyself, else shalt thou be moved to do evil '. Now one of the first stories in the Bible shows us how one who has thus been fretting himself, is just in the way to fall into the most frightful temptations. And what story do I mean ? Why that of Cain and Abel. Cain fi-etted himself, even in God's very presence, because Abel's offering was accepted, and his was not ; and we know what the end of this story was. And the children of Israel fretted themselves that the land of Canaan was too strong ever to be conquered by them ; that the giants and walled cities and the seven nations would keep them for ever out of the country that flows with milk and honey. What sentence did they provoke God to pronounce upon them at last ? Listen ; and then see what their fretting ended in : ' Surely they shall not see the land which I sware unto their forefathers, neither shall any of them that provoked Me see it '. And see now, ' Fret not thyself, else shalt thou be moved to do evil '. We begin the sin for ourselves ; Satan works it out to the full. Just as it is in the o]jposite way. We try after some good thing, we do our best, we set ourselves to the work, and then our dear Lord works with us and helps us. Thus in an evil thing ; we begin it, often, for ourselves, and Satan takes it out of our hands and finishes it for us. Yes, indeed, and we should over and over again be apt to cry out, as Hazael did, ' Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing ? ' if we could see the evil into which, starting from some very little sin, or what seems to us very little, we should be led. And now notice one thing more. What kind of fretting is that which David here speaks of ? Why, when there is really cause for us to be moved, then it really is a heavy trial. When we see the wicked seeming to prosper, and we ourselves, though we may be trying to serve God, vexed and persecuted and afflicted, even then 'fret not thyself. Nevertheless, this was so hanl a trial to Asaph, him that wrote so many of the Psalms, that he says, ' Then thought I to understand these things, but it was too hard for me, yea, and I had almost said even as they,' that is, as the wicked, ' but, lo : then should I have con- demned the generation of Thy chiltlren '. Now you 260 Ver. 22. PSALM XXXVII Ver. 22. do not know as yet what this means, but probably you will know it some day ; and then you will find it a very hard trouble to bear ; a trouble that you only can bear by looking as St. Paul says, ' Not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen ' ; by looking past the present to the future ; by casting your eyes past the middle to the end. And this is the verse that, above all others, I would then have you remember : ' Though a sinner do evil a hundred times, and his days be })rolonged, yet surely I know that it shall be well with them that fear God, which fear before Him : but it shall not be well with the wicked, neither shall he prolong his days, which are as a shadow ; because he feareth not before God '. I took this text because it came in the Psalm which you have just been saying, not for any other reason. But i-emember this, health has some especial tempta- tions, and sickness some : and one of those of sickness is to be fretful. Any of you who do not feel strong, who are used to pain, who are accustomed to feel ill, must be all the more on your guard against this ; against feeling discontented and peevish, and fretful about little things. And remember that country in which there can be no ill-temper ; remember Him who ' endured such contradiction of sinners against Himself, lest ye be weary and faint in your minds,' 'who, when He was reviled, reviled not again ; when He suffered. He threatened not ; but committed Himself unto Him that judgeth righteously '. That is the country of which the inhabitants will no more say, ' I am sick ; the people that dwell therein shall be forgiven their iniquities '. — J. M. Neale, Sermons for Children. AN INHERITANCE ' Such as be blessed of Him shall inherit the earth.' — Psalm XXXVII. 22. There is one thing which perhaps boys in the country are more likely to do than boys in a town. They like to look away from the village in which they were born and the cottage in which they live and think of the days to come and of the things they shall then possess. They imagine themselves making a great lot of money, and living in great houses, and having servants to serve them, and carriages and a great name auiong men. It is such a pleasant thing for boys, before they learn how little power they have to shape the future, to fancy it filled with riches and grandeur which shall belong to them. Early in the last century a poor boy was attending a foundation school in an English village. He was a dreamer of dreams like these. Often in the play- hours of the school he would go off alone to the river-side and seat himself under a spreading tree and dream his dreams. One day, while his schoolfellows were busy elsewhere with their games, he had a very great dream. Poor though he was, he was the heir of a family that had once been rich. The sonowful thought took hold of him that his forefathers had let their riches go, and he sut there under his favourite tree turning the sad fact over and over in his mind : ' This tree under which I sit,' he said to himself, ' belonged once to my forefathers. So did the river that is flowing past. So did the fields on the other side as far as the eye can reach, and the fields on this side, and the village and the village church, and the great mansions in the park, and all the villages and farms about ; and now there is not one foot of it all in the possession of their children.' It was a very boyish thought which came into his mind after that sad one. But it really came into his mind, and would not go away. He said to himself: ' If I live, I shall try to win back what my forefathers have let go. And this river flowing at my feet, and this tree under which I have so often sat, and all the fields and houses that once belonged to my family shall belong to them again.' And although it seemed at the time a mere dream and no more than a thought in a dream, all came to pass as he dreamed. He lived to carry out his thought. Some friends of the old family took an interest in the boy, and got him sent out to India as a young clerk. He was well-behaved and attentive to his duties, and he was clever. Everything put under his care went well. He became a good soldier, a good leader of armies. He fought great battles and won them. He rose to be Governor of India, and became very rich. And when long years were past the people in England knew of him as the famous Wan-en Hast- ings, of whom the books of English and Indian history have wonderful stories to tell. And then, when he was rich and famous, he returned to England, and bit by bit he bought back the lands which his forefathers had lost, and he became lord of the tree under which he dreamed his dreams, and of the river which flowed at his feet, and of all the fields and villages around. Now I know, for I remember my own boyhood, that this is a story to set boys a-dreaming. Could not you go to some rich land far away, and come back with gold and silver, and buy fields and houses, and be lords in the land ? Yes. Some of you may really do that very thing. But it can only be some of you — only a very few of you. There are very few boys in the world who are heirs to old families. It is only a boy here and there, even among such, to whom friends of his dead forefathers will come with help. And among boys helped by such friends, not one in a thousand will be able to do the things which Hastings did. It is not easy to buy back a lost in- heritance, or win a new one for oneself. But do not think, because I say this, that you are shut out from such possessions. Every boy before me is the heir of inheritances grander than any that can be bought with gold. Listen, and I will tell you of one which the good I^ord prepared for you before you were born. You are the heirs of the greatest country upon the earth. Your native land belongs to you and to the boys and girls of this time. It belonged to your 261 Ver. 1. PSALMS XXXIX., XL Ver. 3. forefathers ; it belongs to you now. Its hills, its valleys, its rivers and shores, they are yours. So is the story of its past years, and the memory of the great men and vi'omen who have lived in it and made it what it is. The churches and schools throughout the country, the judgment halls and palaces, the squares and parks in cities, the cities themselves, and all the labour that stirs in them, and all the crowds that live in them, they are yours. If you went to live in another country, these things would follow you and visit you in your dreams, and you would say, ' They are pictures from my native land '. And you would think with pride of the grandeur of your country, and of the glory which God has given it among the countries of the earth. ' Mine is a country,' you would say to strangers, ' the word of whose merchants is as good as gold ; the speech of whose people is spreading over all the earth ; the flag of whose ships is known on every sea' And you would rejoice in it and thank God for it, and tell how it stands for liberty and justice and help to the oppressed wherever it is known. Yes. You are heirs in your native land. Its great books, its poems, its sweet singere, its builders, its painters, its mighty captains, its brave travellers, they are yours. You can say — you have said — ' These are the travellers and the captains and the sweet singers of my native land. They belong to me.' No matter though you should be poor and own neither castle nor park in all the land. The splendour of sunrise and sunset upon its mountains is yours. And if a great deed should be done by any of its sons, you have a share in the glory of that deed. — Alexander Macleod, The Child Jesus, p. 205. TALKATIVENESS ' I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I offend not in my tongue.' — Psalm xxxix. i (Prayer Book Version). It is not by any means easy to keep a watch over our tongue and prevent it from making mischief and lead- ing us into sin, and, in fact, many grown-up people have never learnt the lesson, perhaps because they never consider how important it is ; but let me tell you what one good man thought about the task. There was once a plain ignorant man called Pambo, who was about to enter a monastery as a monk, and so he went to a vei-y learned and pious man and asked him to give him instructions for his new course of life. The old man opened the Book of Psalms and read this verse, ' I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I offend not in my tongue '. ' That is enough,' .said Pambo, ' let me go home and practise that.' Some months after the teacher asked him whether he wouldn't like some further instruction. ' No,' said Pambo, ' I haven't mastered that yet.' And forty-nine years after that, the good man said he was just beginning to leai-n to obey the command- ment. We must take heed to our ways lest we talk when we ought to be silent. Sometimes we hear things about others, something they have said or done, and we go and repeat them — telling tales, you children call it. We sav, ' Oh ! do you know what John Smith did ? or Mai-y Brown said ? Well, then, I will tell you,' and then this unruly member of ours begins the story. Let us learn never to say anything to others which may tend to stir up strife, or lead to unpleasantness — far better to be silent than use idle words, for re- member, we shall be called to answer some day for the use we have made of the gift of speech. We may forget to take heed to our ways, but God doesn't for- get our idle words, our foolish, unprofitable, wicked sayings, and for all of these we shall have to give an account at last. So then let us say in the words of the text, ' I will take heed to my ways, lest I offend in my tongue '. — R. G. Soans, Sermons for the Young, p. 127. THE NEW SONG (A New Year's Sermon) ' He hath put a new song in my mouth.' — Psalm xl. 3. On this New Year's Day I am going to speak to you about a new thing. I know you like new things — • new dresses, new pictures, new books, new years, new everything ; do you not ? Old people, perhaps, like old things better, although they like some new things too, especially sweet young faces and young hearts. To-day, when you are thinking of the new year that is coming up out of the future with its happy hours and new pleasures, they are thinking very likely of old years long past, of old friends long dead — perhaps of old sins. But it is of new things you always think. And I am sure you like singing too. \Vhere is there a child that does not like singing? Some of you can sing almost as sweetly as the birds in the hedges ; and you are at it all day long. Even if you cannot sing youreelves, you like to hear others sing ; and many a time you ask your mother, or your sister, or a friend to sing to you. Well, it is about a new song I am to speak to you to-day. It is a very wonderful song. It is the sweetest ever heard in the world. You may have seen crowds of people flocking to a concert-room to hear a famous singer. But when anyone is singing this new song, though it be but a little child, there are angels listen- ing, and even God Himself bends down His ear to hear. It is easy to sing it : it does not, like French or Italian songs, require learning to read the words ; it does not require musical skill to leani the notes ; it does not require a fine voice, for even the aged and the dying can sing it. Yet it is so peculiar, that a singer with the finest voice in the world, and the most perfect musical training, may not be able to render it. I have three things to tell you about the new song :— L It is the Song of the New Heart. — All good sinsring comes from the heart. I have often heard a 262 Ver. 3. PSALM XL Ver. 8, sint^er with a really good song to sing, whose words were written by a true poet, and whose music was made by a skilful composer ; and the singer had a good voice, a true ear, a thorough musical education, and a pleasing manner. But the song was a failure, because it did not come from tlie heart. You have seen the robin in the morning piping with might and main on the fence, his sides throbbing with excitement. You have heard the lark on a summer day far up in the bosom of a white cloud. Why does their song thrill you through and through ? It is because it comes straight from the heart. The new song comes from the new heart. Some of us have old and some have new heai-ts. The old heart is hard and stony, godless and impure. The new heart is soft, pure, and Christ-like. Christ takes away the old hard heart, and gives us the new one, when we ask Him. Have you ever felt the hard old heart within you, and cried to Him to take it away and give you the new heart ? If not, you cannot yet sing the new song ; for only those who have the new heart can sing it. It is not necessary that the song should be literally new. It may be thousands of years old, like the Psalm from which the text is taken ; yet if it is sung by the new heart, then it is filled with new feeling, and made a new song. Oh I like to read such a Psalm as the fortieth, or the hundred and sixteenth, and think how for thousands of years those who have got the new heart have taken it, and poured their new, warm feelings into it, and made it as much their own and as new as if they had composed it ! Could you sing that verse of the fortieth Psalm : — He took me from a fearful pit, Aud from the miiy clay. And on a rock He set my feet. Establishing my way — or the hundred and sixteenth Psalm — I love the Lord, because my voice And prayers He did hear — or M'Cheyne's hymn — I once was a stranger to grace and to God — or Toplady's — Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee — with your whole heart ? I do not mean because you like the music, or think the words beautiful, or are fond of singing ; but because the song is the true expression of your own feeling. Can you truly, and with all your heart, sing, ' I love the Lord ' ? You cannot, if you have not the new heart. But if you should get it, all those beautiful Psalms and hymns you have learned and liked would become real to you, for they would be the natural expression of your own feeling ; they would become ten times more dear to you ; and your heart would rush into their meaning, and your voice soar into their music, like a bird dart- ing aloft, singing as it soars, into the air and the sun- shine of a bright morning. They would all become new songs to you. What is it which makes the new heaii a singing heart ? It is love. The new heart is a loving heart. It loves the Father, it loves Christ, it loves men. It is like Christ's own heart, which was full of love to the brim. Now nothing makes the heart sing like love. The ' Song of Songs ' is all about love. And if you look through the songs of the poets, you will find that the half of them are about love ; and all the poets say that it was love which made them sing. So if you look through your hymns, you will find that the sweetest and the best of them are about love. The new heart sings because it is filled full of love to Christ, and lost in wonder at the thought of His love to it. II. It is the Song of the New Way. — My children, you and I are travellers to Eternity. Now, j ust as there are two kinds of hearts — the old heart and the new — so there are two ways which different persons are walking through this world to Eternity. The one is the old and broad way, the other the new and narrow way. Those who have the old heart are going the old way, and those who have the new heart the new way. The old way leads down to eternal death ; the new way leads up to God. The new way was made by Christ. Men did not know which way to go. Most of them willingly went the broad way to death. Yet there were a few who wished to get to God. But there was no way. Once there had been one, but it had been destroyed and lost. Jesus came down from heaven to make a way. It cost Him infinite labour — it cost Him His life. But He made it. It is long, uphill, and narrow ; but it is a royal road, and leads straight to God. Those who travel along this road sing as they go. Well they may ; for every step is taking them farther away from sin and destruction and nearer to God, and they are treading in the footsteps of Jesus. \'ou have heard, I dare say, that this road is rough and difficult. So it often is. There are in it the Hill Difficulty, and the Valley of Humiliation, and the Valley of the Shadow of Death. If you become true Christians, you may have to suffer for it. The best men and women who have ever lived have been hated, persecuted, and killed. But all that does not prevent the new way from being cheered from end to end with song. Those who tread it can sing even in the hardest and darkest places. Did you ever hear a nightingale ? At least you have heard of it — of the floods of music it pours from its throat, ranging from the guttural, croodling tmtters and murmurs of its low notes up to the glorious triumph of its most splendid joy. I re- member once living in a town where one could hear them every day ; and near the town there was an island in the river called the Nightingale Island, covered with pmes and oaks, which was so full of them that, sailing round it on the quiet bosom of Ihe water in the shimmer of the moonlight, one might enjoy the most enchanting concert from their sweet voices. Ver. 6. PSALM XL Ver. 6. But the peculiarity of the nightingale is that it sings little by day. It is in the night it sings. When all the other songsters of the grove are silent, then it pours its melody on the darkness. So those who have the new heart can sing in the darkest parts of the new way. You remember Chris- tian sang in the Valley of Humiliation, though he met there with Apollyon ; and the timorous maiden Much-afraid went across the River of Death with a song that enchanted every one that heard it. III. It is the Song of the New Home. — The new way leads to the new home. The heart of man is never at rest till it rests in a home. And the new heart cannot rest except in the new home. Christ is there, and it rests not till it reposes on His bosom. Home is the place of songs. And the new home is full of music and singing. It is because it is full of loving and joyful hearts. But the new song will be sung there only by those who have sung it here — by those whose hearts have been made new on earth, and who have travelled to heaven by the new way. — James Stalker, The New Song, p. 9. BORED EARS ' Mine ears hast Thou opened.' — Psalm xl. 6. If you look in the margin of your Bible you will see that this means — ' Mine ears hast Thou digged '. Let me explain this. The Israelites had slaves, but they could not keep them for slaves always. When Jubilee year came round all the slaves had to be set free. But sometimes a slave did not want to go away from his master. His master had been kind to him and good, and he didn't wish to leave him. In that case his master bored a hole in the ear of his slave, and from that moment the servant was no longer a slave — he was like one of his master's own sons ; for he had the chance to go if he liked, but he preferred to stay through love, and love never was in slavery, and never can be, for love is always free-born. Free to go, but preferring to stay — that is what the hole in the ear meant And some wise people tell us that was why young maidens and wives came first to wear earrings ; they were proud, and rightly proud, of showing that while they were fiee they were also bound — but bound by love and not by fear — to somebody. But you needn't pay any heed to that now. The thing to notice is — the bored, the opened ear, meant that a man remained with his master because he loved him. Ah, that is the right spirit we must get for Jesus. Some really don't like Jesus, and yet they keep in His house, and they do many things He bids them, but if they could only escape and be wicked they would. Only they are afraid, for they know they must meet Jesus when they die. They ai-e held by fear, and not by love ; they are slaves — slaves in their hearts and in their minds. It is not till we come to serve Jesus out of love that we are really free — free to go if we like, but preferring to stay for love. That is the spirit which is pleasing to God. I had a little linnet once. It had tumbled out of some nest before it had a feather, and I had to be mother and father to it, and a fine little child he became to me. I fed him and took care of him, and he grew strong and pert as any. I had kept him a little prisoner in a cage, and he seemed always want- ing to escape, so one day I thought — if he wants his liberty he may have it. I opened the cage door, and sat down on a chair and watched. It wasn't long before lintie made his cage door like a penny — for he had a head on one side and a tail on the other ! How he looked at me, and looked round the room — you would have thought he was going to buy the premises, he was .so critical I Then he took a little flight out— but flew back to the door in an instant. After this he grew bolder — got on top of his cage — and then flew round the room — down on the floor — round about my feet — but at the least fright he was back to the cage door again. So I did not fasten that door on him any more. He got going or coming just as he pleased, and a fine little companion he became. He woke me in the morning by pecking at my hair, and he always had the first plunge into the basin. He used to peck at my pen when I was writing, and in fact, if I was there, he felt he should be there too. Only once more did I make a trial of his love. I took him out to the garden (I lived in the country then) and tossed him into the air among the trees, and he seemed to enjoy it finely, for he flew about and whistled, and put on airs. But when I turned to go indoors and leave him, he flew on my shoulder and burrowed round my neck, and so came in along with me. He was free to go, but lintie loved to stay, and loving and fond we were of one another until he died. Is that why you listen when we speak about Jesus ? — why you want to do what He bids ? Is it because you love Him? because you wouldn't go away from Him if you could ? Ah ! that is the right spirit of His own true boy or His own true girl. Then just remember — when you want to be with Him because you love Him you must have your ears open for Him. For Him — not for wicked words, nor for filthy stories, nor to listen when others would tempt you to do what is wrong. Sometimes in the playground there is a boy or a girl who says things you would be ashamed to tell mother at home. Then be ashamed to listen to them — turn away — turn away boldly and give this as your reason, ' I love the Lord Jesus'. It was through the ear sin first came into the heart — when Satan whispered to Eve — and it is through the ear still the Tempter does his most wicked works. Keep your eai-s open only for what you would like Jesus to hear along with you. But the opened ear also meant the obedient heart. Though the man was no longer a slave after his ear was bored, yet he had to obey orders — only he now 264 Ver. 1. PSALM XL I Ver. 1. obeyed from love, and not from fear. And so you find this man the Psahn speaks about no sooner says, ' Mine eai-s hast Thou opened ' than he also says, ' Lo, I come ... I delight to do Thy will, O my God '. The opened ear, you mark, was the sign of an obedient heart — as soon as his Master called he said, ' Lo, I come'. And so, when the Lord called Samuel, and Samuel wanted the Lord to understand that he was ready to obey, what he said was, ' Speak, for Thy servant heareth '. For him to hear was for him to obey. Let it be the same with you. It wasn't the mark on the ear that gave the man the obedient heart, but because he had the obedient heart he wanted to have the open ear for whatever his master might tell him. And just so, it isn't merely listening to what Jesus tells us that pleases Him — it is li^tening and obeying. Many listen who don't obey— they have got love's mai-k, .but not love's heart. Have you both ? Listen lovingly for the Lord's words, and then lovingly seek to do them. Keep the way for His words always open between the ear and the heart. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Pulpit, p. 232. THE BLESSEDNESS OF CONSIDERING THE POOR ' Blessed is he that considereth the poor.' — Psalm xli. i. I WISH to speak of three reasons why it is a blessed thing to consider the poor. The first reason is, That it is lilte God. — David says, 'Thou, O God, hast of Thy goodness prepared for the poor'. What wonderful preparation God makes for the poor! He not only provides for poor people, but poor animals too. It says in the Bible that ' the lions, roaring after their prey, seek their meat from God. He feedeth the young ravens when they cry.' All the beasts of the earth, the birds of the air, and the fishes of the sea, are fed by God. How large a family this is ! What different kinds of food tbey require! But God 'considers' what they want, and gets it ready for them. Some travellers lately went up a high mountain, fourteen thousand feet high. It is covered with ice and snow at the top all the year. No men could live up there. Even if they could stand the cold, they could find nothing to eat. But the travellers found some insects living there. God had made the mountain-top a home for them, and He had provided them with food just such as they needed. In preparing to lay the wires for the magnetic telegraph to America some time since, it became neces- sary to find out how deep the water in the ocean was up towards the coast of Greenland. The men who were sounding for this purpose measured in one place where the water was seven thousand feet deep. And yet, even at that great depth they found live shell- fish at the bottom of the ocean. And God had not forgotten them. Away down, under all that depth of water, God has prepared them the food they need. God is always considering the poor. When He makes the sun to shine, and the rains to descend, and the dews to distil. He does it, among other reasons, that the grain may grow, and the fruits of the earth may ripen, on which both the rich and poor are dependent for their food. But God does more than all this. He considei-s the poor in a special way, and when He knows that those who love Him are suffering for the want of anything. He takes particular pains to send them what they need. The second reason why we should consider the poor, is Because we can Make them Happy in this Way. — And this is what God sent us into the world for. God is doing all He can to make people happy. The Bible tells us that God sent his Son Jesus into the world on purpose to bless us, and to make us happy. And when we learn to love Jesus, and try to do those things that please Him, we shall not only be happy ourselves, but we shall be trying to make others happy. And one of the best ways of doing this is by 'considering the poor'; by trying to be kind to them, and to help them in their troubles and sorrows. One day a poor man was going into the counting- house of a very wealthy merchant. As he went in he saw great sums of gold and silver which the clerks were busy in counting. It was in the midst of winter. The poor man thought of his desolate home, and the wants of his family, and, almost without thinking, he said to himself, ' Ah ! how happy a very little of that money would make me ! ' The merchant over- heard him. ' What is that you say, my friend ? ' he asked. The poor man was confused, and begged to be excused, as he did not intend to say anything. But the kind-hearted merchant would not excuse him, and so the man was obliged to repeat what he had said. ' Well, my good fellow,' said the merchant, 'and how much would it take to make you happy ? ' ' Oh, I don't know, sir,' said he, ' but tne weather is very cold, and I have no fire ; my wife and children are poorly clad, for I have been sick. But we don't want much. I think, sir, five pounds would get us all we need.' ' John,' said the merchant to his clerk, ' count this man out five pounds.' The man's heart was made glad, and he went back to a home that was made glad too. At the close of the day, the clerk asked the mer- chant how he should enter in his books the money given to the poor man. He answered, 'Say, "For making a man happy, five pounds " '. Perhaps that merchant never spent money better in his life. The third reason why we should do this, is Because we do Good to Ourselves by it. — We may be very sure of this, because God has promised it. See what He says in the verse in which our text is found : ' Blessed is he that considereth the poor : the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble '. And then there is another promise in the Bible which reads thus : ' He that hath pity upon the poor, lendeth unto the Lord ; and that which he hath given, will He pay him again '. If we lend our money to anyone else, we 265 Ver. 1. PSALMS XL I., XL I I Vv. 1, 2. never can be sure of getting it back again ; but if we lend it to the Lord, we may be perfectly sure that He will pay us back, and always with good interest. Thei'e is a story told of a good bishop who was very charitable. Once, when he was travelling, some poor people met him, and begged for help. The bishop asked his servant how much money they had with them. He said, ' Three crowns, sir '. ' Give them to these poor people,' said the bishop. But the servant thought his master was too liberal. So he gave two crowns to the poor people, and kept one to pay for their lodging at night. Not long after a certain rich nobleman met the bishop. Knowing how charitable he was to the poor, he ordered his steward to pay two hundred crowns to the bishop's servant for his master's use. The servant was overjoyed, and hastened to tell his master what had happened. ' Ah,' said the bishop, ' if you had only had more faith in God, and given the three crowns to the poor, as I told you, you would have had three hundred crowns now, instead of two hundred.' Thus you see how the bishop was blessed for consi- dering the poor. 'That which he paid away, God paid him again.' He did good to himself by con- sidering the poor. A gentleman, near London, once went to visit a poor woman who was sick. When he entered the room he saw a little girl kneeling at her bedside, who immediately went out. He asked the sick woman who the child was. 'Oh, sir,' said she, 'it is a little angel who often comes in to read the Bible to me, to my great comfort, and who has just left si.xpence with me.' On inquiring further, he found that the little •.'irl was poor herself, and that the sixpence left with the .sick woman had been given to the child for a reward. She began to practise on the text with only sixpence. How very few there are but what have that much ! But considering the poor doesn't always mean giving them money. It often means, speaking kindly to them, and showing that we feel sympathy for them. One day a young lady had gone out to take a walk. She forgot to take her purse with her, and had no money in her pocket. Presently she met a little girl with a basket on her arm. 'Please, miss, will you buy something from my basket ? ' said the little girl, showing a variety of book-marks, watch-cases, needle- books, etc. ' I'm sorry I can't buy anything to-day,' said the young lady, ' I haven't got any money with me. Your thin^^s look very pretty.' She stopped a moment, and spoke a few kind words to the little pedlar. And then, as she passed on, she said again, ' I'm very sorry I can't buy anything from you to- day '. ' Oh, miss,' said the little girl, ' you've done me just as much good as if you had. Most persons that I meet say, "Get away with you ". But you have spoken kindly to me, and I feel much better.' That was considering the poor. How little it costs to do that ! Let us learn to speak kindly and gently to the poor and the suffering. If we have nothing else to give, let us at least give them our sympathy. — Richard Newton, Bible Blessings, p. 34, THE HART ' As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after Thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God.' — Psalm xlii. i, 2. The hart is the old English name for the male of the red deer or the stag, while the hind is the name for the female. The female is probably meant here ; for, though the noun is masculine, the verb is feminine. All nations have found their symbols of the soul in the female rather than in the male, and we feel that the choice is j ust. For instance, in the famed picture, ' Lux in Tenebris,' the soul is represented as a young, shi-inking girl. There are many kinds of deer in the East, and many names for them : the antelope, the ibex, the gazelle, the roe. As all the Bible- writers like to wed their lessons to the commonest objects, David probably has in his eye the common gazelle of Syria. It was a great pleasure to our party to sur- prise a small herd of gazelles. The gazelle is one of the loveliest, cleanest, gentlest, and most sprightly of animals. It constantly ' snuffs up the wind,' and travels against the wind ; and its scent is so very keen that it rarely fails to detect a lurking foe. Its swiftness IS proverbial, and it is famed for its feats of leaping. It can outstrip the fleetest horse or greyhound in the chase. It was often used as an emblem of womanly beauty, and its name was a favourite name for women. Mr. Kinglake, in his Eothen, calls it 'a darling,' 'a beauty '. Dorcas and Tabitha both mean gazelle. Like robin redbreast, among birds, the gazelle, more than any other animal, awakens in man an interest of peculiar tenderness — all the more that it is easily tamed, and still is often kept as a pet. Thus the eastern has a sort of half-human feeling towards this little creature, and a dim sense of respect and com- radeship. You can thus undei'stand why it is a great pet with the poets. Byron, Moore, and Wordsworth all praise the surpassing beauty of ' the dear gazelle '. Solomon does the same when he says, ' My beloved is like a roe or a young hart '. In his ' White Doe of Rylstone,' Wordsworth legards it, or the order to which it belongs, as in some mysterious sense nearer man than other animals are. He describes : — A doe most beautiful, clear white, A radiant creature, silver bright. And of the dead lady Aaliza, he says : — To the grief of her soul that doth come and go, In the beautiful form of this innocent doe. David's hart is a great drinker, and most impatient of thirst. When summer's drought has dried up the streams, the life of the hart becomes one desire. It would then almost go through fire to get water. The Arabs lie in wait for the thirsty gazelles at their watering-places, and shoot them. And it searches for water till it finds it, or dies on the way. Its seen* 9,m Vv. 1, 2. PSALMS XLII., XLVI Ver. 4. for water is keener than its sight, and keener even than its scent for its lurking foes. There are wells among the ridges of the desert known only to the gazelles, and for which the Arabs search in vain. When thirsty, the hart pants, or, as the word means, brays after the water brooks. It then makes a strange, piercing sound : its whole heart and flesh cry out for water. In that braying heart David traces the sem- blance of his own soul longing for the living God. He also has the greatest wants and the keenest de- sires : he too must go out of himself for that of which he has no stock or store within. To a child of the desert, how beautiful the image, how affecting the sense in these words, ' As the hart brayeth after the water brooks, so brayeth my soul after Thee, O God '. Earth's pleasures, like the water brooks in summer, don't last. After the great earthquake the other year in the Riviera, a dead boy's hand was seen above the ruins, and upon it was perched the bird he used to feed. Every human heart some day becomes like that bird ; for the human hand that befriended it, once living and bounteous, is found dead, and cold, and empty. If you believe this one truth, then there will not be stuff enough left in you for the making of a child of earth : you shall be spoiled for that for ever. I shall now give you two illustrations from bio- graphy. De Quincey writes the life of his friend. Lady Carbery. She was counted one of the most fortunate girls in Britain. A merchant's daughter, she became a Countess at the age of twenty-six. She seemed to have everything heart could wish. For instance, thirty-five horses stood at her service in her husband's stables. ' In no case,' says her biographer, ' was it more literally realised, as daily almost I wit- nessed, that All Paradise Could, by the simple opening of a door, Let itself in upon her.' Yet she fell early into a sort of disgust with her own advantages, because they had promised much and performed next to nothing in satisfying the yearnings of her heart. At the age of twenty-seven she had come to a most bitter sense of the hollowness and treachery of the portion eaiih was offering to her, and she sought refuge in an earnest Christian life. Tauler, a famous preacher at Strassburg, was tor- tured with an inner unrest and thirst. One day he was sadly walking along the Rhine, and praying to God for light. He met an aged blind beggar. ' God give thee a good day,' Tauler said. 'I thank thee ; but all my days are good, and none ill,' was the reply. ' God give thee happy life,' the preacher s]iake again. 'I never am unhappy,' the old man replied. Tauler asked the beggar to tell him the secret of his happy life, and he was told that it was a childlike trust in God. Tauler then got the light for which he had been praying. Returning to the city at noon, he saw far down the sti'eet a mighty shadow made by the tower of the cathedral. ' Behold ! ' he said, ' The 8trang;er's faith made plain before mine eyes, As yonder tower outstretches to the earth The dark triangle of its shade alone When the clear day is shining on its top. So, darkness in the pathway of man's life Is but the shadow of God's providence. By the great sun of wisdom cast thereon ; And what is dark below is light in heaven.' This great lesson was well underetood by that dumb schoolboy, who, when thoughtlessly asked bv a visitor why God had made him dumb, took the chalk and wrote on the blackboard, ' Even so. Father, for so it seemed good in Thy sight '. David's longing for God is very keen Travellers tell us that one of the most touching sights in the world is to see a herd of gazelles quenching their thirst at a river in a time of drought. The very scent of the water gives them new life ; they dash into the water ; they drink and drink again, and deeper drink ; thev cling to the dear stream, while every part of their body shivers with joy. Even as the flowing streams give deep delight to the panting gazelle, so God's grace solaces every soul that keenly feels its great needs. Blessed is he that thirsteth for God, for he shall be satisfied. — James Weli.s, Bible Object Lessons, p. 77. THE WONDERFUL RIVER Psalm xlvi. 4. In a certain royal city, the palace of the king and the houses of his servants were warmed and served by a river, which flowed underground. One of the strange things about the river was that it did not freeze in the depth of winter, or grow hot in the height of summer ; all the year long it remained very nearly of one temperature. As pipes were laid from the river to all rhe rooms of the palace, the rooms were pleasantly warm at all times. But the river had more wonderful qualities than this. The king was told that every night the water flowed through fine pipes to the windows of the palace, and washed them clean and bright. A yet more curious fact, so the king was told, was that the river made all the repairs that were required in the palace and the city. Cer- tainly, workmen were never seen in the streets ; no sound of hammering or sawing was ever heard there ; no rubbish or litter lay about in the city. All that was necessary was that some of the king's servants should shoot into the river bricks, stones, glass, wood, iron, gold, silk, wool, zinc, whatever was likely to be needed. There was a pit at a certain place in the city where these things might be tumbled into the river, which earned them off, sorted them, and used them just as they were wanted. A new pane of glass would take the place of a broken one ; a fresh beam of timber would grow where a beam had been dis- placed ; a new telegraph wire .stretched itself when an old one gave way. The river repaired everything — marble columns, ivory furniture, soft cushions, musical instruments, anything and everything. Nor was this all. The river kept its own walls and pipes 267 Ver. 4. PSALM XLVI Ver. 4. in good order. When one of the walls grew thin by the constant wear of its flowing, it was quickly thickened and mended and cemented by the river itself, and the small pipes were steadily and incessantly renewed. Perhaps you will ask whether the river did not grow foul ? Yes, it did, because it washed into itself all the rubbish, when it had mended anything — saw- dust, and broken stone, and rags, and chips, and bits of glass, and odds and ends of all kinds. But this wonderful river flowed regularly to filter-beds, which had been prepared for it, and as it passed through the filter-beds, all the rubbish was strained out of it, and it flowed on cleansed and purified. You will not be surprised that the king wished to understand more fully how the river came, and how it flowed out to the filter-beds and returned. The continual running of a river, which had no spring as its source and no outlet to a sea, greatly puzzled him. He was informed by his servants that there was a deep well into which the river ran, and that a strange kind of pump forced the water up again. They took him to a spot where he could hear something like the thud of a pump, but who worked it, or how it was worked, he could not clearly understand. Then the king began to inquire how the water of the river could do so many astonishing things, and some of his counsellors said that there were living creatures in the river, which swam about unseen, but always noting what needed to be done. They said that when one of the creatures saw that a piece of work ought to be done, it would instantly set about the doing of it, even at the cost of its own life. Othei-s of the king's wise men were not so sure about the invisible creatures, but of one thing there could be no doubt, that the work was done. You will agree with me that this river was wonder- ful. It was, in fact, much more so than I have been able to tell you. Perhaps you know already that every word of the tale is true. The city is your body, its palace is your brain, its king is your mind. The river is your blood, into which you pour material — bread and butter, and milk, and other food — and the river builds columns, which are your bones, and stretches telegraph wires, which are your nerves, and cleanses the palace windows, which are your eyes, and mends and tunes the musical instruments which pro- duce your voice, and renews and enlarges your brain, and makes whatever needs to be made. The well with its marvellous pump is your heart, and the filter- beds are your lungs. And the invisible living creatures, or what some of the wise men took to be such, what are they ? Ask your teacher to tell you about the ' white corpuscles ' in your blood. If you go on to think about the subject, you will want to ask many questions, and the answers will be more astounding than anything I have told you. You may link a Bible word with your thoughts. ' There is a river, the streams whereof make glad the city of God,' for your body should be a city of God, who built it for your soul, and made it wonderful and beautiful, and Himself loves to dwell in it with you. — John A, Hamilton, The Wonderful River, p. 11 THE RIVER OF THE CITY OF GOD ' The.-e is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God.' — Psalm xlvi. 4. I. A RIVER is an immense blessing to any city through which it passes. It makes the city ' glad '. The great full-breasted river gives glory to the city. Florence, on the Arno, is one of the most beautiful cities in the world ; but the finest streets in it — where the great hotels ai"e, and where the visitors go- — are the broad and handsome quays called Lung' Arno (that is. Along the Ai-no), which extend along both banks of the stream. The river contributes character to the city. London is made much more attractive than it would otherwise be by the Thames, as it winds about in pictui-esque bends through and through the city, all the way from Hammersmith to Greenwich. Paiis would be poorer and less beautiful if it wanted the Seine, with its bridges and islands. And what would Glasgow be without its ship-laden Clyde ; or Liver- pool, if its six miles of docks along the Mersey were destroyed ? How interesting, too, are the city bridges over the river ! Take, for example, Chester, where ' the sacred Dee ' is spanned not only by the old bridge of seven arches, but also by the new or Grosvenor bridge, with one single arch two hundred feet in length, being the second largest span of a stone bridge in the world. The river also may bring good things to the city. It is often the main soui'ce of its material prosperity. It carries away its refuse to the sea, and pours health down into it from the hills. Sometimes by means of the river the besieged city is saved from a horrible famine. The great siege of Londondeny lasted for one hundred and five days ; and how was it, after such prolonged distress, that the starving citizens were relieved ? By three ships which came up the river Foyle, laden with provisions. They dashed bravely against the barricade in the stream, and broke it down, and at once emptied their treasures on the quay, making the city glad. II. I have mentioned the names of a number of different cities, with their rivers. But the city referred to in this Psalm is ' the city of God '. What city is that? It is quite common to connect different cities with certain things or persons. Thus, for example, Man- chester is the city of cotton ; Birmingham is the city of metallic manufactures ; Dundee is the city of jute ; Leipzig is the city of books ; Florence is the city of flowers ; Jericho is the city of palm-trees ; Constanti- nople is the city of Constantine the Great ; St. Petersburg is the city of Peter the Great. But what a splendid title we have here — ' the city of God ' ! And what an honour to any city to be called by such a name ! The boys and girls know that it is Jerusalem — ' the holy city ' of the Holy Land — that is God's own city. It was there that the Temple of God stood. 268 .Ver. 10. PSALM LI Ver. 10. Mount Zion was the place which the Lord had chosen 'to put His name theie '. This great river of the grace of God flows through the Church. It gladdens and blesses ' the holy place of the tabernacles of the Most High '. Since the Lord Jesus Christ ascended to heaven, it has been a far larger and broader and deeper stream than it ever was before. It began to flow with full flood on the day of Pentecost : on that day the waters sud- denly rose, and ever since they have been ' waters to swim in '. And while the river flows in all its breadth through the Church, it is also 'parted,' like the river of Para- dise, into many branches. Our text speaks of the river, and then it refers to the ' streams ' from it. These are the divisions or canals into which it is broken up. One of these streams comes into every home which belongs to the Church, and makes that home glad. And not only into every household, but into every heart. The very last invitation of the Bible is, ' Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely '. — Charles Jerdan, Messages to the Chil- dren, p. 10. A CLEAN HEART CREATED AND RENEWED ' Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a right spirit within me.' — Psalm li. io. What a very remarkable word is the first word of my text ! Will you look at it ? ' Create ' ! Let us think a little about 'creating'. 'Creating' is different from making. If a little boy is a carpenter, he can make a boat ; but he does not make the wood of which the boat is made ; he does not make the chisel that he works with ; he does not make the little hand that holds the chisel. This is God's work. Man makes ; but God ' creates '. ' In the beginning,' the Bible says, ' God created and made the world.' First, He ' created ' it — that is, He made all out of notliing ; and then He ' made ' — that is, He arranged it. What a wonderful thing ' creating ' must be ! Just think about it. I suppose it is like this — we cannot quite understand it, but it is something like this. God thinks in His mind. Then He thinks in His mind, 'I wish that what I think in My mind shall be '. Then it is. He 'thinks of something that nobody has ever seen, and nobody has ever thought of He thinks it, and there it is. We cannot do that. For instance, God thought of the sun. Nobody had ever seen a sun. He thought, ' I wish there to be a sun ' ; and the sun rolled out in the skies. He thought of an elephant, a lion, etc. Nobody had ever seen such animals: but God thought of them in His mind, and said, ' I wish them to be ' ; and there walked a lion and there walked an elephant That is ' creating '. Now, I suppose what David thought, when he wrote this verse was this : ' My heart is so bad, nothing can be made of it — so there must be " a new heart " al- together. It must be "created" — something made out of nothing. " Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a right spirit within me." ' He thought that to be a Christian, to be a 'clean,' holy man, was like something ' created '. And this is just what it says throughout the Bible. Will you turn to 2 Corinthians v. 17, and you will see then just what it says, viz. that when a man is made good, it is like being ' created '. We will read it together if you please, ' Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature' — that means he is ' created ' — made new : ' he is a new creature' . There was one thing that was very wise in David when he wrote this verse. I will tell you what it was. You know David had been very naughty : he had taken another man's wife — we have been reading about it ; and then he killed the husband. But David did not think about his wicked acts — that is what most people would have done — but he thought of his wicked ' heart,' out of which those acts had come. That is what I wish you to do. Perhaps some one tells a lie ; and, after doing so, he says, ' I am very sorry : I am determined I will never tell a lie again. I will guard my words and take care what I say.' Or, perhaps some little girl has gone into a dreadful passion, and even actually struck somebody ; and then she thinks afterwards, ' Oh, what a wicked thing it was for me to get into such a passion. I will never do so again. I will keep a guard over my hands, and 1 am sure I will never strike anybody again.' Poor little boy and girl ! you do not know what you are talking about. I am sure that little boy will tell a lie again, if this is all he does ; and that little girl will strike again. Each ought to say, ' What a wicked heart I have : I must think about my heart '. Jesus Christ says that all evil comes from thence. Then say, ' Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a right spirit within me '. If you do not go that way to work, I will tell you what you are doing — you are putting ' new wine into old bottles'. Look at Matthew IX. 17. When anybody says, ' I will lead a new life,' and does not try to have a better ' heart,' he is ' putting new wine into old bottles ' ; he wants to put new conduct into an old ' heart '. This will not do. God says it will not. It will never last. That is the reason many boys and girls set out on Sunday to try to be good ; but before Tuesday or Wednesday comes, they are as bad as ever. They try to build new lives upon old feelings. They ought to try to get their ' hearts ' changed — ' Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a right spirit within me '. Therefore, to pray this prayer was very wise in David. When you begin to think and feel about your own hearts, you will be surprised to find how much evil there is in them. There was a missionary who went out to the South Seas, and I will tell you of a conversation he had one day with the captain of a ship that went out to catch whales. He talked with him a long time about Je^us Christ ; and the captain, being a heathen, did not 269 Ver. 10. PSALM LI Ver. 17. understand him ; and at last the captain said ; ' It is of no use your talking to me. I cannot understand you. I cannot receive your words into my mind. I have been twenty-three months out for whales, and I can- not look for anything else. If you were to look into my heart you would see a whale there ; and I have no heart for anything else. My heart is filled up with a whale.' He spoke honestly. A great many people have their hearts full of whales. Some little boys and girls in this church, that ought to be now listening to me, have their hearts filled with a whale. I do not know what it is — play or something else ; but there is no room for God ! A troublesome thing is the ' heart '. Now I am going to tell you one thing about the ' heart ' — it is very unclean. What is the most unclean thing you can think of? What an unclean thing is dirty water ! God says your heart is like nasty, dirty water. Look at Isaiah lvii. 20, ' But the wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt '. Now I am going to tell you how we can get our hearts ' clean '. Perhaps it is rather too deep for you. I know that some boys and girls will say, ' The Blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin! ' Yes, that is true, but it is not enough. Look at the beginning of Genesis. Observe, David says, ' Create '. Now, how does God ' create ' ? The first of Genesis, and the second verse, will tell you how He ' creates ' out of nothing. The first thing is, ' The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters '. There would have been no creation with- out this. Then the second thing (ver. 3), 'and God said. Let there be light ; and there was light '. Then turn to the first of John, where it says of Christ, ' All things were made by Him ; and without Him was not anything made that was made '. So then, three things must happen before anything can be ' created '. Do attend to this, it is not diflicult. The Sph-it of God must ' move upon the face ' of it, the Word of God must ' speak ' to it, and the Blood of Christ must ' wash ' it. Nothing ever was ' created ' without these three things. If these do not take place, there can be no ' creation '. Let us look at them. The first thing is, the Spirit of God must 'move ' over it. If you wish to be God's children indeed, the Holy Spirit must work in your heart. As the ' spirit moved over the face of the waters,' so must the Holy Spirit 'move' in your ' hearts '. The Holy Spirit is often compared to water, because water makes clean. Look at Ezekiel xxxvi. 25 — it is a beautiful passage, ' Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean ; from all your filthi- ness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse you. A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you,' that is, the Holy Ghost. Now, then, we will think about the Bible, which is the Word of God. When God made the Word, He ' spake with His mouth '. Now His speech is in the Bible. Can you think of some verse that says it is through the Bible we are to have our hearts cleansed ? Turn to it if you can. There is a beautiful verse in John XVII. 17, 'Sanctify them through Thy truth: Thy word is truth '. That will do ; but there is one still clearer in Ephesians v. 26, 'That He might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water (that is, the Holy Ghost) by the word,' that is, the Bible. And now, Jesus Christ, we know, must cleanse it too. Will you look at 1 John l 7, ' The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin '. So now, you see, there are three things to be done if we would have a 'clean heart created '. The Holy Spirit must work in our hearts ; we must read the Bible, think much about the Bible ; and look to Jesus Christ, whose ' blood cleanseth from all sin '. A Christian boy likes his hands, and everything, to be ' clean '. I never knew a Christian who did not wish everything to be ' clean '. Cleanliness marks a Christian. But hands will get dirty again, although you wash them. So will your soul— though washed in the blood of Christ. Therefore, pray 'Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a right spirit within me '. Good Robert Hall, when a boy, used to get into a dreadful rage ; and, whenever he felt it coming on, he used to say, 'O Lamb of God ! calm my mind,' and it caused him to grow up the gentlest man almost that ever lived— though a very passionate boy. And I believe if boys and girls would say and pray this earnestly, at the bottom of their hearts, they would find the benefit of it. Let us all say it together in conclusion, and not only say it, bub let us stand up and pray it in our hearts, ' Create in me a clean heart, O God ; and renew a right spirit within me '. — James Vaughan. SORROW FOR SIN 'A broken and contrite heart, O God, shalt Thou not despise.' — Psalm li. 17. It is by overcoming our sins that we are to dig down the hills and fill up the valleys, and make the rough places smooth and the crooked straight, until at last there is a perfectly straight road for God to come into our hearts. And what is the way to overcome our sins ? Re- pentance. Yes, it is by repenting of our sins that we shall overcome them. We cannot overcome them in any other way. And I want to explain to you what re- pentance means. You have all heard, I have no doubt, of repenting of our sins, but perhaps some of you have mistaken ideas as to what repentance really means. So I will try to explain to you, first, what repentance is not. I. Repentance does not mean simply saying we are son-y for what we have done wrong, because we are told to say we are'soiTy, or told we must be sorry. Supposing, for instance, a child gets into a naughty temper, and is told by her friends they will not 270 Ver. 17. PSALMS LI., LV Ver. 6. speak to her again until she says she is soiTy for it, and so she does say she is sorry for it, but all the time is crying with temper, and stamping her foot on the ground ; is that being sorry for her sin really ? No. No, that is not i-eally being sorry at all, and is not repentance, because the child is in just as bad a temper as she was before, and repentance does not mean just saying we are soiTy, while all the time we go on doing the very thing we say we aie sorry for. And I will tell you another thing that is 710^ re- pentance for our sins, and that is crying very much when some one tells us about our sins, and promising we will never do that thing again, and then forget- ting all about what was said to us, and all about the promise we made, and very soon doing just the thing we promised not to do. That is not repentance ; and it is only telling a lie, if we promise not to do a thing, and then break our promise, and do the same thing again ; because if we had really repented we should have remembered our promise, and tried to keep it. And repentance does 710^ mean being sorry because we have been found out in something wrong, and are afraid now of being punished for it. We are not really soiTy that we have sinned, and oUended God, but are only sorry that we shall have to suffer for it. If we really repented we should be sorry for having offended God, and should know that we quite de- served any punishment we got for doing it. Let us think now what repentance really does mean. II. Repentance means being really sorry that we have offended God who is always so good to us, and the only thanks we have given Flim is to do the things He hates, and that caused Je.sus to suffer on the cross ; and so we determine to give uj) our sin, whatever it may be, because it is hateful to God, and because we love God so much that we will not cause Him grief, and we determine that, with God's help, we will be on our guard against that sin, and will often pray to God to help us to overcome it, and will not leave off praying till the temptation to that sin goes away. That is repentance. Although we must ask God to forgive us our sins, we shall not be quite at peace with ourselves and with Him until we have confessed our sins not only to Him, but also to anyone we have sinned against. Suppose you have told a lie, or have done anything else that you know is wrong, then you must not only tell God how sorry you are, but you must also tell whoever you have sinned against how sorry you are, and ask for their forgiveness as well as God's. You see, when the Prodigal Son repented of his sins, he did not only have to confess to God, and get His forgiveness, but he had also to confess to his father, against whom he had sinned, and get his father's forgiveness, as well as God's before he could be quite happy again — ' Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight'. I will tell you a story Canon Keymer told showing that we must ask our friend's forgiveness, as well as God's, before we can feel quite happy and quite for- given. He told of a little girl who had stolen a penny from the money box in her father's shop ; she had broken the Eighth Commandment. What does that say ? Thou shalt not steal. Well, when she stole that penny she broke the Eighth Commandment, and she soon began to feel very unhappy, and her conscience tormented her very much, and she asked God to forgive her, and next time she had a penny she put it into the box, instead of the one she had stolen, and then another penny still, and another, and yet she could not feel at peace, because she had not confessed her sin to her father, and told him what she had done. She was afraid to do that, because she was afraid her father would be angry with her ; but her conscience still tormented her so much that at last she told her father what she had done, and then at last she felt happy again, and when she was asked what her father said to her, she said, 'He never said anything, he only kissed me '. And so you will find it ; you will never feel per- fectly happy and forgiven until you have told your friends, as well as God, what you have done wrong, and been forgiven by them. But it will not always be easy for us to do better, even when we are forgiven. The devil will tempt us to do wrong, and tell us there is no harm in it, and he will make people who do not love Jesus laugh at us, and call us unkind names ; but we must tell God all about it, and ask Him for strength to bear it, and He will help us to resist the devil. — J. L. Smith- Dampier, Christ's Little Citizens, p. 114. WISHING FOR WINQS Psalm lv. 6. King David was one of the wisest of men ; yet he is not ashamed to tell us that one day he could not help wishing for what he knew was impossible. He wished for wings. The reason was, that he was so grieved with the wickedness of a great many of the people among whom he lived, that he longed to get away to some quiet valley, among lonely mountains and forests, where he could be alone with God. So he said, ' Oh that I had wings like a dove ! for then would I fly away, and be at rest ' (Ps. lv. 6). Other people besides King David have wished for wings. A little boy was sitting in school one bright sunnner morning. Looking up from his book, he could see thi'ough the open window the finches and tomtits hopping among the trees, and the swallows skimming over the grass. And he could not help saying to himself, ' Oh that I had wings ! for then I would fly out of school, and do nothing but play ■with the birds in the sunshine'. By the by, he did not know that the birds were not at play, but hard at work, catching flies and grubs to feed their young ones. Perhaps you knew that little boy. Or was it a little girl you knew who wished for wings ? Well, let me give you a word of advice about this. 271 Ver. 3. PSALM LVI Ver. 3. I. Don't Spend your Time in Wisliing for Wings, or for anything else that is impossible. Not that there is anything wrong in a wish, unless what we wish for is wrong. Wishes will come flying into our minds, as little birds sometimes hop in at an open window. But do not pet and feed and fondle them. Let them fly away again. There was nothing wrong in King David's saying, ' Oh that I had wings ! ' but it would have been very wrong and very foolish if he had wasted his time in longing for wings, and mur- muring and grumbling because he could not have them. Wishing is profitless work, even for possible things. No one ever got to the top of a mountain, or even to the top of a ladder, by wishing he were up there. No ! you must climb, step by step. II. God gave David Something much Better than Wings. — Read verses 16, 17, 22 of Psalm lv., and look at the last six words of verse 23, and you will see how this was. Often God denies our wishes, that He may give us something better than we ask or think. A pair of dove's wings would be useless, unless you had a dove's body ; or eagle's, unless you had an eagle's body. ' Oh, but that's just what I should like — to be a bird, just for a little time.' Is it? Then, perhaps, you would wish for legs like a gazelle, or fins like a whale. One can't have everything. And yet I remember that St. Paul says to real Christians, ' All things are yours, . . . and ye are Christ's' (1 Cor iii. 21). The Lord Jesus needed no wings to fly up to heaven. And we need no wings to get near enough to Him to talk to Him. When you pray to Him He listens, and hears every word, as though He stood close to you. Ask Him to help you to use your hands and feet in His service. Love to Him will be better than the winged shoes you read of in the old Greek fables. It will make your feet swift and your hands nimble for every duty, and every kindness. It will give wings to your thoughts, so that they will fly up to Him, and then come back fresher and more earnest to your work. Then, when the time comes. He will give you what is far better than wings : He will come and receive you to Himself, that where He is, you may be also. — E. R. CoNDER, Drops and Rocks, p. 120. THE BEAUTY OF THE KING'S LESSONS ' What time I am afraid I will trust in Thee.' — Psalm LVI. 3. The lesson of trust. — Perhaps some of you may think that grown-up men ought never to be afraid. But this is a mistake. Strong men, and good, and wise, and brave, are sometimes afraid ; yes, and they have reason to be afraid. David was a man when he wrote this Psalm. He was a strong man, a wise, a good, and brave man. He was a great king and a great soldier. He had fought many great battles, and gained many great victories. When he was only a boy he was not afraid to go alone and fight with the wild beasts — the lion and the bear — that stole away the lambs from his flocks. And when the great Philistine giant, Goliath, came to defy the army of Israel and challenged any of their soldiers to come and fight with him, the bravest among them were afraid of him, and were ready to run away as soon as they saw him. But David was not afraid of him. Although he was only a lad and had never been in a battle, yet he went bravely out, all by himself, with- out a sword, without a shield, or spear, or a bit of armour on, and with nothing in his hand but his sling and his stone, he fought with that great monster of a man. David was a very brave man. And yet he was not ashamed to speak about the times when he felt afraid. And if this was so with David, it may well be so with us. We need not be ashamed to say that there are times when we are afraid. The one great thing that makes people afraid is — sin. Sin and fear always go together. If we were not sinners we never should be afraid. The good angels are not afraid, because they have never sinned. Adam and Eve never knew what fear was till after thev had sinned. But then, as soon as they heard God speak- ing to them, 'they hid themselves among the trees of the garden, because they were afraid'. And so, if we did not know that we were sinners, we should have nothing to fear. It is only sin that makes us afraid. But, because we are sinners, there are many times when we are afraid. Some pei-sons are afraid to be alone ; afraid to be in the dark ; afraid when it thunders ; afraid when they are sick ; afraid when they are in a storm at sea ; and afraid when they are going to die. David s]ieaks here of the times when he was afraid, but he does nor tell us what those times were. Yet he shows us here how to get rid of our fear, or what to do when we are afraid. He says, ' What time I am afraid I will trust in Thee '. The subject which this text brings before us is — The lesson of trust. It is one of the lessons we are taught by Jesus our King ; and we may see the king's beauty in the lessons that He teaches. I wish to speak of three things that may help us to learn this lesson of trust when we are afi-aid. Each of these three things begins with the letter P ; and so it may help us to remember this sermon if we think of the three P's. I. And the First Thing that should Lead us to Trust in God when we are Afraid is the Thought of His ' Presence'. — But the thought of God's pres- ence aff'ects different people in different ways. If we do not love God, and are not trying to serve Him, it will not comfort us to think about Him. I suppose it was when David was living in sin that he said, ' I remembered God and was troubled '. When we know that we are doing wrong we want to get away from God, or to forget all about Him. I remember hearing of a girl who went into a room belonging to the gentleman for whom she worked — a room that was not often used — in order to steal some- thing. Hanging over the mantel was a portrait of the gentleman's father. The girl looked at this portrait, and its eyes seemed to be gazing at her. Whatever part of the room she went to, those eyes followed her. She felt uncomfortable. ' I can't steal 272 Ver. 3. PSALM LVI Ver. 3. ■while those eyes are looking straight at me,' she said to herself. Then she got a chair, and took a pair of scissors, and bored out the eyes of the portrait. And when she felt that she was rid of those trouble- some eyes, she went on to steal as she wished to do. But she forgot that God's eyes were looking at her, and that she never could put them out. That is the way the thought of God makes us feel when we are doing wrong. But when we love God, and feel that He is our best friend, then the thought of His presence always gives us comfort and takes away our fear. Trust in God. — ' Mother,' said a little girl, ' what did David mean when he said, " Preserve me, O God, for in Thee do I put my trust " ? ' ' Do you remember,' said her mother, ' the little girl we saw walking with her father in the woods yesterday ? ' ' Oh yes, mother, wasn't she beautiful ? ' 'She was a gentle, loving little thing, and her father was very kind to her. Do you remember what she said when they came to the narrow bridge over the brook ? ' ' I don't like to think about that bridge, mother ; it makes me giddy. Don't you think it is very dangerous — j ust those two loose planks laid across, and no rail- ing ? If she had stepped a little on either side, she ■would have fallen into the water.' ' Do you remember what she said ? ' asked the mother. ' Yes, ma. She stopped a minute, as if she was afraid to go over, and then looked up into her father's face and asked him to take hold of her hand, and said, " You will take hold of me, dear father ; I don't feel afraid when you have hold of my hand ". And her father looked so lovingly upon her, and took tight hold of her hand, as if she were very precious to him.' ' Well, my child,' said the mother, ' I think David felt just like that little girl when he wrote the words you have asked me about.' ' Was David going over a bridge, mother ? ' ' Not such a bridge as the one we saw in the woods ; but he had come to some difficult place in his life, there was some trouble before him that made him feel afraid; and he looked up to God, just as that little girl looked to her father, and said, " Preserve me, O God, for in Thee do I put my trust ". It is just as if he had said, "Please take care of me, my kind Heavenly Father ; I do not feel afraid when Thou art with me and taking hold of my hand ".' And here we see what David means in our text when he says, ' What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee'. The thought of God's presence took away his fear and gave him comfort 'This helped him to learn the lesson of trust. A boy's faith. — Two little boys were talking together about a lesson they had been receiving from their grandmother on the subject of Elijah's going to heaven in the chariot of fire. ' I say, Charley,' said George, ' but wouldn't you be afraid to ride in such a chariot ? ' ' Why, no,' said Charley, ' I shouldn't be afraid, if I knew that the Lord was driving.' And that was just the way David felt when lit, said, ' What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee '. He knew that neither chai'iots of fire, nor anything else could hurt him, if God was present as his pro- tector and friend. II. The Second Thing that should Lead us to Learn this Lesson is the Thought of Qod's ' Power '. — Suppose we go and stand upon a rock by the sea- shore where the waves are dashing up. How strong that rock seems ! The waves roll up and break in foam upon it, but they can neither move it nor shake it. And if we look at the rock when the waves roll back and leave it bare, we shall find a number of tiny little shell-fish clinging to the sides of the rock. These are very weak. They have no power at all to resist the waves that dash against the rock. If they were left to themselves, the first wave that came would sweep them all away. But God has given them the tiniest little sort of fingers with which they can take fast hold of the I'ock. And when the great rolling waves come up, and sweep over the rock, they cling to its side and are safe. And God's power is to us just what that rock is to the little shell-fish. And our faith in God is just like those little fingers by which the shell-fish cling to the rock. And so when we are afraid, the thought of God's power should lead us to trust in Him. A gentleman was walking down a street one morn- ing when he saw a little blind boy standing on the sidewalk, with his head bent forward as if listening for something. Stepping up to him he said : — ' Shall I help you across the street, my little friend ? ' 'Oh no, thank you, sir; I'm waiting for my father ? ' ' Can you trust your father I ' ' Oh yes ; my father always takes good care of me. He leads me all the time, and when he has hold of my hand I feel perfectly safe.' ' But why do you feel safe ? ' 'Raising his sightless eyes, with a sweeb smile and a look of perfect trust, the dear boy said, " Oh, sir, because my father knows the way. I am blind, but he can see. I am weak, but he is strong." And this is just the kind of feeling we should have towards God. He knows the way, and He is strong. The thought of His power should lead us to ti'ust Him, when we are afraid. Perfect trust. — A gentleman was walking one evening with his little girl upon a high bank, be- neath which ran a canal. The child was pleased with the look of the glistening water, and coaxed her father to take her down to it. ' The water looks so pretty. Please, papa, do take me down there,' she said. The bank was very steep and the road a mere sheep path. In getting down the gentleman had to 273 18 Ver. 3. PSALM LVI V^er. 8. take hold of his little girl's arms and swing her from point to point. While doing this she would some- times be hanging in the air, directly over the water. Yet she only laughed and chuckled, but was not the least bit afraid, although she really seemed to be in great danger. At last they got down the bank and reached the tow-path in safety. Then taking up his daughter in his arms he said, ' Now tell me, Sophy, why you were not afraid when you were swinging in the air, right over the water ? ' Nestling her plump little cheek upon her father's face, she said : — ' Papa had hold of Sophy's hand ; Sophy couldn't fall ! ' This was very sweet. Here was a perfect trust. And this is just the feeling that David had towards God when he said, ' What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee '. Sophy would have screamed with teiTor to find herself hanging over the water in the canal, unless she had confidence in the person who had hold of her arms. But it was her father — her kind, loving father — who held her, and so, ' what time she would have been afraid she trusted in him '. And this is the feeling that we ought to have to- wards God. The thought of His power should lead us to trust in Him. The anxious ambassador. — There is a good story told of an English ambassador that illustrates this part of our subject very well. It took place more than two hundred years ago, during the time of Oliver Cromwell. That was a period of revolution and war and of great trouble in England. The gentleman to whom I refer had been appointed am- bassador to the Court of Sweden. He had reached a seaport town from which he was to sail the next morning. He expected to be absent from his country for some time, and things were in such an unsettled state that he felt very much distressed at the idea of being away. He kept thinking about the country, and was so much troubled that he couldn't sleep. He had a servant with him, who was a good Christian man, and had learned well this lesson of trust. He was sorry to see his master so worried and troubled about the country. So he came to him and said, ' Please, sir, will you allow me to ask you one or two questions ? ' ' Certainly,' said the ambassador. ' Well, sir, don't you think that God governed the world very well before you came into it ? ' ' Undoubtedly He did.' ' And don't you think He will be able to govern it quite as well when you are taken out of it ? ' ' Certainly He will.' ' Then, sir, please excuse me, but don't you think you may as well trust Him to govern it while you are in it ? ' To this he could give no answer. But it had a good effect upon him. It showed him the folly of trying to take the government out of God's hands. He quit worrying. He cast away his fear. He trusted the country to God, and went quietly to> sleep. Just one other short illustration on this point. The lost hoy's trust. — A little boy and his brother were lost in a western forest. After being out a day and a night they were found. In giving an account of what took place while they were in the woods, the little fellow said : — ' When it got dark I knelt down and asked God to take care of little Jimmy and me, and then we went to sleep ! ' How simple, how beautiful that was ! That little boy was feeling, and acting, just as King David did when he said : ' I will both lay me down in peace and sleep ; for Thou, Lord, only makest me to dwell in safety.' And so from all these examples, we see that the second thing which should lead us to learn the lesson of trust in God, is the thought of His power. III. The Third Thing that should lead us to Learn this Lesson is the Thought of Qod's ' Promises '. — God's promises are given to us on purpose to help us in trying to learn this lesson of trust. These pro- mises are made to apply to all the times and circum- stances in which we are most likely to be afraid. Sometimes we are afraid that our strength will fail, and that we shall not be able to do what we have to do. And then God gives us this sweet promise : ' Fear not, I am with thee ; I will strengthen thee ; yea, I will help thee ; yea, I wiil uphold thee, with the right hand of My righteousness ' (Is. xll 10). Sometimes, we are afraid of the anger and violence of wicked men, and then God says to us, as He did to His servant Abraham of old, ' Fear not, I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward ' (Gen. xv. 1). Sometimes we are afraid of the troubles and afflic- tions we may have to meet, as we go on in life ; and then God gives us this precious promise, ' When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee ; and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee ; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned ; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee' (Is. xLiii. 2). The waters and the fires spoken of here mean trinls and afflictions ; but if God is only with us we need not be afraid of them. Sometimes, when we think of dying, and of going above into an unknown world, we feel afraid, and our hearts sink within us. But, even when we think of meeting death, we mav take up the language of David, and say : ' Yea, though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death we will fear no evil ; for Thou art with us ; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort us ' (Ps. XXIII. 4). God promises to ' make all things work together for good to them that love Him ' (Rom. vni. 28). And all these promises are given to teach us the lesson of trust when we are afraid. A child's trust in God's promises. — Here is a story of a poor little German boy who had learned this lesson of trust from God's promises in the Bible. He wanted to enter the Moravian school to get an education ; but his widowed mother was too poor tO' 274 Ver. 3. PSALMS LVL, LXI Ver. 3. send him. So he wrote a letter and directed it thus — ' To the Lord Jesus Christ — -in heaven ' — and dropped it into the post-office. The letter ran thus : — ' My Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, ' I have lost my father, and we are very poor. But Thou hast promised, in Thy word, that whatso- ever we shall ask of God, in Thy name, He will give it to U.S. I believe what Thou sayest, Lord. I ask then, in the name of Jesus, that God will give my mother the money to send me to the Moravian school. I should like so much to go on with my learning. I pray unto Thee already ; but I will love Thee more.' The postmaster was very much surprised at the direction on the letter. He knew that the mail had no connection with that country, and that it was impossible to send the letter to heaven ; so he opened it and read it. He gave it to a member of the Moravian Church. It was read at a meeting of their society. A rich lady present was so much interested in it, that she took chai-ge of the little boy, and sent him to school as he desired. A child's faith. — Johnny Hall was a poor boy. His mother worked hard for their daily bread. ' Please give me something to eat, for I am very hungry,' he said to her one evening. His mother let the work that she was sewing fall upon her knees and drew Johnny towards her. As she kissed him the teal's fell fast on his face, while she said, ' Johnny, my dear, I have not a penny in the world. There is not a morsel of bread in the house, and I cannot give you any supper to-night.' Johnny didn't cry when he heard this. He was but a little fellow, but he had learned the lesson of trust in God's promises. He had great faith in the sweet words of Jesus when He said, ' Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in My name. He will do it '. 'Never mind, mamma, I shall soon be asleep, and then I sha'n't feel hungry. But you must sit here and sew, hungry and cold. Poor mamma ! ' he said, as he threw his arms round her neck and kissed her many times to comfort her. Then he knelt down by his mother's side to say his prayers after her. They said, ' Our Father ' till they came to the petition, ' Give us this day our daily bread '. The way in which his mother said these words made Johnny's heart ache. He stopped and looked at her, and repeated them with his eyes full of teai-s — ' Give us this day our daily bread '. When thev got through he looked at his mother and said, ' Now, mother, don't be afraid. We shall never be hungry any more. God is our Father. He has promised to hear us, and I am sure He will.' Then he went to bed. Before midnight he woke up, while his mother was still at work, and asked if the bread had come yet. She said, ' No, but I am sure it will come '. In the morning, before Johnny was awake, a gentle- man called, who wanted his mother to come to his house and take charge of his two motherless children. She agreed to go. He left some money with her. She went out at once to buy some things for break- fast. And Avhen Johnny awoke the bread was there and all that he needed. Johnny is a man now ; but he has never wanted bread fi'om that day ; and whenever he was afraid, since then, he has remem- bered God's promises and trusted in Him. Let us remember these three P's, the presence, the power, and the promises of God, and this will help us to learn the lesson of trust. And in all our times of danger and of trial let us try to follow the ex- ample of David, when he said, ' What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee '.—Richard Newton, The Beauty of the King, p. 139. A STRONG TOWER 'A strong tower from the enemy.' — Psalm lxi. 3. Let us think of the Lord as a strong tower. I. And first we should remember That the Children Wanted such a Refuge just as much as the Grown- up People did. — It would never have done for the mother to have left her little child, or the father his boys and maidens. The enemy would have carried them away as slaves, or perhaps have killed them. The children needed a tower quite as much as any- body else. And you need it to-day. There is still a strong prince with a great army who is as cruel and fierce as ever he was. He is called the prince of this world, and he goeth about like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devoiu'. Nothing pleases him more than to tempt boys and girls into his service, that he may make them his slaves. Ah, what a cruel master he is ! Nothing ever satisfies him. Even when his slaves have done all they can for him, and spent their lives in his service, he drags them down to his own dreadful abode. From this cruel enemy Jesus is come to be our strong tower, and we must run away to Him and there seek refuge from this enemy. II. Nor is this the only enemy that makes us need the strong tower. We have often to run away from Ourselves. — As I stood one day on a ruined castle I thought of some good work that it had done. Besides the foes that came from afar off there were bad men who gathered together in the woods, and lived as wild robbers, often taking the goods and cattle of the people, and sometimes murdering them. Then the lord of the castle would go forth with his knights and search out these cruel robbers, and de- stroy their refuges and kill the chief of them ; or he would bi-ing them back, laden with chains, and shut them up in a deep dungeon, so that they could do no more harm. You know how such evil things dwell in our hearts — our tempers perhaps are passion- ate and set us all on fire, like these robbers used to do to the cottages and homes of the people. The feelings sometimes are full of anger and hatred, like those cruel men. Now for them too the Lord is a strong tower. He comes forth with His strong right hand to destroy this nest of robbei-s. He can lead them chained, and shut them up in His deep 275 Ver. 3. PSALMS LXL, LXIU Ver. 12. dungeon, so that they shall not hurt or destroy any more. In the nineteenth chapter of the Revelation, John gives us a wonderful picture of this glorious Lord and His army going forth to make war against His enemies. Let us come up to Him against the evils that trouble us. He shall be our strong tower from the enemy. HL The next thing I want you to think of is this, That the Gateway was always Opened to Children. — I sometimes see notices like this, ' Children not admitted '. I am quite sure that was never put up out- side the strong tower. If they made way for any- body it was for the children. I think if the captain ever put out his hand to help anybody it was to help a little child. When the drawbridge was pulled up and the gate barred, and the enemy hastening on, some poor fellow might have stood on the other side of the moat and cried for help, and I am not sure that they would run the risk of trying to save him. But if a little child had stood and held out its hands, I am quite sure that then the bolts were hurled back, and the drawbridge was lowered, and some brave soldier sprang forth to snatch up that child, and with a shower of arrows at his heels, bore it right into the strong tower. Here none ai-e more welcome than children ; I had almost said none are so wel- come. Every boy and maiden can sing of the great Lord in heaven, Thou, art my strong Tower from the enemy. You can come in — you are not too little, you are not too young. That gate is never shut against a child. I have heard that when a steamer was on fire on one of the American lakes an emigrant was coming home with his hard-won gold. He fastened it to his waist and prepared to jump overboard to swim to shore, when a piteous little voice cried, ' Please, Sir, will you save me ' ? He looked for a moment at the tearful eyes. He must lose the gold or he must leave the child, he could not save both. In a moment he loosened the belt and let it drop ; and then clasping the little one in his arms he sprang over and bore her safely to the shore. For us Jesus laid down His life ; to save us He gave up Himself to the dreadful death of the cross. And now I am quite sure that when we come and ask Him to save us. He does take us into His arms and bear us safely into the strong tower of His love and of His salvation. Think What a safe Refuge we have when the Lord is our strong Tower. — He is the Almighty. Some time ago I saw a great castle away on the south coast of England, and I looked with wonder at its great strength. It was built on the steep cliff that rose straight out of the sea, so that none could get to it that way. And above the cliff" batteries of cannon stretched away one above the other to the very top. I had to go through covered ways and past great gates and over drawbridges with deep moats, and by huge cannon, and past sentinels at every corner, until at last I stood on the top of it all. And as I looked down over it, and noticed its strength and its security, I began to think how much stronger than all this is the Lord who was David's tower. The Lord is our Refuge and Strength, but we have to keep the constant look out. Our enemy is very watchful and very cunning, and he will take us unawares unless we watch and pray. When I was a lad, one of my favourite stories was that of one Peter Williamson, a soldier. He was fighting against the Indians in Canada. Now every night the sentinel was shot with an arrow. No sound was heard, but there with an arrow in his breast they found each man in the morning. At last it came to Peter's turn to be on duty for the night It was not a pleasant thing, and he resolved to keep a very sharp look out. I dare say he prayed to God to help him too. He began his watch in the clear shining of the moon, looking all about him, and resolved to fire if he heard so much as the rustle of a leaf. Then he thought of the way in which an Indian could creep along unseen in the bush, and shoot an arrow before he knew he was seen. So he hit upon this plan. He took off his soldier's cap and coat, and fastened them on the .stump of a tree close by. Then he stood in the dark shadows and watched. The night wore on. When it was nearly dawn there was a rustle in the leaves. In a moment Peter lifted his musket. But presently he saw that it was only a bear. He certainly would not shoot at that unless it attacked him. It passed on under the trees and was hidden in the brushwood. Then whiz came the arrow, and stuck deep in the stump. In a moment Peter fired at the retreating bear, and it fell with a shriek of an Indian. Wrapped up in the skin and creeping stealthily along, the cunning Indian had thus disguised himself, and so killed the sentinels. This is like what our enemy does very often. He comes up, and looks as much as to say, ' There is no harm in me. I won't hurt anybody.' And the sentinel does not suspect any mischief until the deadly arrow brings him in the dust. Get into the tower, the blessed tower. And when you are there keep a shai-p look out. Watch and pray. Stand on the watch tower looking out for the enemy, and be not ignorant of his devices. Re- member what the Lord Jesus told His disciples, ' What I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch '. — Maek Guy Pearse, Sermons for Children, p. 131. LYING 'The mouth of them that speak lies shall be stopped.' — Psalm lxiu. 12. A LrrxLE girl, nine years old, was brought into court as a witness against a prisoner who was on trial for a theft committed in her father's house. As she stood up in the usual place for giving testimony, the prisoner's lawyer said to her, ' Now, Emily, I desire to know if you undersfcmd the nature of an oath '. ' I don't know what you mean,' the child innocently answered, puzzled by the large words of the counsellor. ' There, your honour,' said the exultant lawyer, turning his sharp eye on the Judge, ' is anything 276 Ver. 12. PSALM LXIII Ver. 12. further necessary to demonstrate the validity of my objection ? This witness should be rejected. She does not comprehend the nature of an oath.' ' Let me see,' replied the Judge. ' Come here, my child." The little girl immediately recovered her self- possession when thus kindly spoken to, and looked confidingly in the face of the Judge. ' Did you ever take an oath ?' his honour inquired, in a quiet tone. In her simplicity she thought he wished to know whether she had ever used profane language, and the blood mantled in her cheeks as she replied most emphatically, ' No, sir I ' The Judge at once saw the misapprehension under which she was labouring, and explained that he only meant to ask whether she had ever been a witness before. The little girl answered, ' No, sir ; I never was in court until to-day '. He handed her a Bible, open, and said, 'Do you know that book, my child ? ' ' Yes, sir ; it is the Bible.' ' Do you ever read it ? ' he continued. ' Yes, sir, every evening.' 'Can you tell me what the Bible is?' asked the Judge. ' It is the word of the great God,' said the child, with a grave and solemn expression on her gentle face. ' Well, place your hand upon the Bible and listen to what I say ' ; and he slowly repeated the oath usually administered to witnesses. ' Now you have been sworn as a witness,' remarked the Judge ; ' will you tell me what will happen to you if you do not tell the truth ? ' ' I shall be shut up in State Prison,' was the ready answer. ' Anything else ? ' asked the Judge. ' I shall not go to heaven,' said the child, looking even graver than before. ' How do you know this? ' asked the Judge. The girl took the book and found the verse, ' Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour'. Pointing to the words, she said, ' I learned that before I could read '. ' Has anyone talked to you about being a witness in court here against this man ? ' inquired the Judge. ' Yes, sir,' she replied, ' my mother heard they wanted me for a witness, and last night she called me to her room and asked me to repeat the Ten Com- mandments ; and then we knelt down, and she prayed that I might understand how wicked it was to bear false witness, and that God would help me to tell the truth. And when I came up here with father she kissed me, and told me to remember that God would hear all I said.' ' Do you believe that ? ' asked the Judge, a tear glistening in his eye. ' Yes, sir,' the child answered, with a tone of voice that showed her conviction of the truth she had uttered. 'God bless you,' said the Judge, 'you have a good mother;' then, turning to the lawyers and jury he continued : ' this witness is competent, and were I on trial for my life, and innocent of the charge against me, I would pray God for such a witness. Let her be examined.' The little girl told her story in a simple, straightforward way. 'Then came the cross-examination, when the lawyer tried his utmost to make her vary from her first statement ; but all to no puipose. Falsehood and perjury had preceded her testimony, but the child, for whom a mother had prayed for strength to be given her to speak the truth, broke the cunning de- vices of matured villainy in pieces, and the guilty was brought to justice. Although it is the greatest possible insult to call a person a liar, the whole human family, whether barbarous or civilised, have been strangely given to this sin. I suppose that very few people in Siam ever heard the words of our text, and yet it was an ancient custom there to punish a liar by sewing up his mouth ! A lie is an attempt to deceive, and we may tell one either by word or by deed. The person who points in the wrong direction, in order to mislead a traveller, or who closes the shutters to escape a dun, has, in the sight of God, been guilty of falsehood. The text refers to the punishment of liars : ' The mouth of them that speak lies shall he stopped '. The same thing is referred to in another psalm, where David declares that ' the lying lips shall be put to silence, which cruelly, disdainfully, and despite- fully speak against the righteous '. Some of you will remember the startling account which is recorded in the fifth chapter of the Book of Acts, concerning Ananias and his wife Sapphira, who disposed of a farm, and hiding a part of the money received for it, brought the other part to the Apostles as an offering for the poor, pretending that it was the whole sum which the land had sold for. They were both struck dead in a moment. It cannot be said that such things never happen in later times, now that miracles have ceased to be wrought. Examples enough could be brought for- ward to prove that they do occur ; but I shall only mention two : — In the market-town of Devizes, England, a woman named Ruth Pierce, with three others, agi'eed to join in the purchase of a sack of wheat, each paying an equal share for it. One of the women, in collecting the money, found some of it lacking, and accuseil Ruth with not having paid her portion. Ruth insisted that she had, and even called on God to witness that she spoke the truth, saying, ' I hope I may be struck dead, if I am telling a lie ! ' She was again entreated to pay her part of the money, and again she repeated her denial that she had kept back any, with the same awful appeal to the Almighty. The words were hardly spoken before she 277 Ver. 9. PSALM LXV Ver. 9. dropped dead in the street — and the missing money was found grasped tightly in her stiffened hand ! As a warning to others in all after time, the mayor of Devizes had a stone pillar set up in the market- place, on which was inscribed a brief account of this terrible affair. One day as Archbishop Leighton was going from Glasgow to Dunblane a tremendous thunder-storm came on, and as he hastened towards a place of shelter he was seen by two men of very bad char- acter, who were walking along the road which he was about to pass. Not having the corn-age to rob him, they contrived a plan to work upon his sympathy. One of them said to his companion, ' I will lie down by the wayside and pretend that I am dead, and you shall tell the Archbishop that I was killed by the lightning, and beg money to bury me '. When the good man reached the spot the miser- able wretch told his story, and, as he had expected, the Archbishop gave him money to bury his friend, and then hurried on his way. The wicked man waited until he had got a little way off, and then re- turned to liis companion to share the purse with him. Finding him stone dead he cried out in terror, ' O ! sir, he is dead ! O ! sir, he is dead ! ' The Archbishop rode back, and when he beheld the ghastly spectacle he said, with as much reproach as he could put into his gentle tones, ' It is a danger- ous thing to trifle with the judgment of God ! ' These are instances in which the Almighty showed how displeased He is with liars, by stopping their mouths, in this world. If they tscape punishment here and die impenitent and unpardoned, we are sure He will do it in the next. Hear His own words : 'All liars shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone '. Children very easily fall into the habit of telling falsehoods, and when this is once formed it is most difficult to overcome it. Will not all of you take warning by what has just been said, and struggle against this evil disposition, until you can say, with all sincerity, as the Psalmist did, ' As for lies, I hate and abhor them'. — John N. Norton, Milk and Honey, p, 151. THE RIVER OF GOD Psalm lxv. g. If it were promised that you should see the River of God, would you not expect some great and wonderful sight ? And if, then, some one led you to the window, and you saw the rain pouring down, would not you be much disappointed ? ' Why,' you would .say, ' I see no river at all ! I only see a great many drops of rain.' Yes; but that is what the Bible (Fs. lxv. 9) calls ' the river of God, which is full of water '. Let us have a little talk about this wonderful river. And, first — I. Where is its Fountain ? — Every river, you Icnow, has a spring or fountain — some pool or rocky cavern where it first springs up out of the deep dark earth. But where is the fountain from which the rain is fed ? How is it that, however much rain comes pouring down from the sky, till it seems as if the clouds must rain themselves quite away, mora cloud.s, full of rain, are always ready ? The fountain of the rain is the great ocean. When the sun shines on the sea, especially in the Torrid Zone, it warms the water, and the water flies up into the air in invisible vapour or steam. So the air is always full of water, even when we cannot see a cloud in the sky. Then, when this steam gets hi^h up in the air, where it is colder, it turns into little tiny drops, smaller than you can fancy, and these make the clouds. By and by these tiny little drops turn into larger drops, and fall down to the earth in rain. And thus it is that ' the river of God is full of water '. II. Where does this River Flow? — Other rivers flow along in channels of rock or earth ; but the river of the rain flows through the air, confined by no banks. It flows above the mountains, north, south, east, or we.st, wherever the wind may carry it. And so it is ready to send down its refreshing streams on hill, or valley, or plain, just whenever and wherever it is wanted. It falls on the mountains and moors, and comes streaming down their sides in little water- falls, gathering into rushing torrents. It sinks down deep into the earth, and helps to fill the wells and springs. It falls on the pastures and meadows, and makes the grass grow for the sheep and cattle ; and on the woods, and makes the buds burst out into leaf; and on the fields, and feeds the corn and the turnips, which are to give food for man and beast ; and on the gardens, and the flowers seem to rejoice in it, and to praise God. Many a shower seems wasted ; it falls on sandy deserts where nothing grows, or back into the sea from whence it came. Never mind, little raindrops, your turn will come I You have plenty of time ! After you have rested awhile in the sandy waste, or floated about awhile in the salt sea, the sunshine will call you up again into the sky, to help to fill ' the river of God '. The snow, too, and the hail, are part of ' the river of God '. For when the clouds rise very high in the air it is so cold that they are frozen, and turn to snow ; or sometimes the rain is frozen as it falls, and then it is h ul. And so the tops of all the highest mountains are covered with snow in .summer as well as winter. III. What does this River do ?— It feeds all the other rivers. The great fields of snow and ice on the lofty mountains are always melting and send- ing torrents roaring and leaping down their rocky channels, which turn into peaceful streams when they reach the green valleys, and help to fill the great rivers. The rain which soaks deep down into the earth goes to fill the wells and fountains. There is not a drop of water you drink but once came down from the sky, perhaps years or hundreds of yeai-s ago, in rain, or hail, or snow. ' All the rivers run into the !-ea ; yet the sea is not full : unto the place from whence the rivers came, thither they return again.' (Eccles. I. 7.) 278 Ver. 9. PSALMS LXV., LXVII The ' river of God ' feeds all living things, both plants and animals. What ? Do we eat the rain ? Think a little. You eat bread and butter, and milk, and meat. But where does the bread come from ? From the corn. And if there were no rain the corn would never gi-ow, or if it began to grow it would wither. The cow gives us milk and butter, and we eat the flesh of oxen and sheep and other creatures. But what do they eat ? The grass, and turnips, and other things that grow out of the ground. And if the rain ceased, the grass and all plants and fruits of every sort would perish, and the whole face of the earth would become a bare dusty desert. Perhaps you may remind me that in the land of Egypt, where there is no rain, the river Nile overflows the land and makes the harvest grow. True ; but it is the rain which falls on the mountains far away in the south which tills the river and makes it overflow. So, you see, all our food, as well as every draught we drmk, comes to us from this wonderful river of the rain. — E. R. Conder, Drops and Rocks, p. 147. THROUGH THE CORNFIELDS ' Thou preparest them corn. — Psalm lxv. g. Let us see what the full ears and sheaves, silent as they are, can teach us. For wherever we go, and especially in the country, God is speaking to us through all we see and hear ; the stars, the rocks, the trees, the plants, all bring a message to us from Him, if only we will open our ears and listen to it. I. One thing we learn is that corn is God's special gift to man. You remember what He said to Adam ? 'Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed which is upon the face of the earth.' Geologists, that is persons who study the history of the earth, tell us that they can discover no signs that corn grew upon the earth before the time when God made man. Other plants and trees were created before man ap- peared, but corn was produced just in time for man — it was God's great gift to us, and was not created before man could make use of it. And something else shows God made com especially for our use, and that is we never find wild corn. It is the gift of God. He gave it to us just as it is, and if we don't cultivate it we lose it altogether. And so the corn- fields remind us how our Father in heaven gives us our daily bread. H. But these cornfields remind us of something else that God said to Adam ; aftei he had eaten of the forbidden fruit, God said to him, ' In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread '. How true that is 1 for what a great deal of cultivating com requires ! Some plants and trees will give us their fruit every year with very little trouble indeed — look at the grass with which God feeds the cattle. Year after year it grows just the same ; and as soon as one plant dies another takes its place, and the more it is cropped by cattle the more abundantly it sends out shoots, and thus requires no fresh planting nor cultivation. How different it is with corn ! Every year the farmer has to plough and harrow his fields, and every year afresh he must sow the seeds of another harvest ; it is no use leaving the old roots in the ground, for gradually they will dwindle away, and at last die out altogether. Every harvest is won by the sweat of man's brow. III. One more lesson fi-om the corn. God keeps His promises. When Noah and his family left the ark, after the waters of the flood had gone down, we can imagine how fearful they must have been lest another deluge might come and sweep them away. They had escaped once, but suppose another visitation came from God ? And then they had escaped death in one form, but should they be able to find means of support on the earth? What does that rainbow mean ? It is a sign of God's promise that never again shall the waters of a flood sweep over the face of the earth, and that winter and summer, seed-time and harvest, shall never fail. — R. G. Soans, Sermons for the Young, p. 162. MISSIONS PSALM LXVII. Of the prayers of David the son of Jesse, one of the best known is found in the sixty-seventh Psalm : ' God be merciful unto us, and ble.ss us ; and cause His face to shine upon us, that Thy way may be known upon earth, Thy saving health among all nations '. That prayer gives us a map of our mission- field. Will you join me in carefully examining it? It spreads itself out before my eye as a wide circle , we shall start from its centre and travel outwards to its circumference. The whole circle is made ap of four circles which are different from each other, though often you can hardly tell where the one ends and the other begins, and though the four, like the circles on the map of the world, make one rounded whole. These are : — I. Our Heart. II. Our Home. III. Our Neighbourhood. IV. The World. As this is a missionary address, I will give the most time to the last two parts of the subject. Our starting-point, then, is the centre of this growing circle : — I. Our Heart. — All true mission-work begins at home, and nothing is so near home as your own heart. Thus the mission prayer runs, 'God be merciful unto v^s, and bless us '. The wonderful little mission-field within you is like the great mission-field without : it may easily become a stronghold of heathenism : a great work needs to be done iu it. And this work can be done, not by your own might or merit, but by God's mercy. Your first and last cry must be for mercy : ' God be merciful uiito me a sinner '. They who believe and feel the mercy of God in Christ, they only can do the work of God. In midwinter ships cften fail to reach the Canadian coast. The sailors are often benumbed by the intense cold, their hands and feet frostbitten, and the very 279 PSALM LXVII sails and ropes so frozen that they cannot be moved. In such a case they turn right round, and make for the warm gulf stream which flows through the sea in that region. On reaching it they pass at one bound ti-om winter to spring. They bathe their frozen hands and feet in the genial waters, icicles fall upon the deck from the crackling sails, and the revived sailors receive ft-esh heart and hope in the strength of which they soon reach the shore. Like them, you have a diflicult work before you ; like them, you must be warmed into fresh life before you can do it ; but unlike them, you need never leave the stream that makes you glad, for you may always keep yourself in the love of God. 'Continue ye in my love,' our Saviour says to all His people. Oh, when the won- drous mercy of God to you is believed as a reality, it enters your soul, and goes through you with the swift- ness and ease of light and heat ; and then you gladly begin the mission for which God has sent you into this world. We are also to pray, ' God cause His face to shine upon us '. Words like these are often found in the Bible : what exactly do they mean ? I once saw an assembly of some twelve thousand people, who had met to welcome a favourite princess. When she ap- peared, hearty goodwill caused thousands of faces to shine upon her. Every face shone as if brilliantly lighted up from within. The radiance of that sea of faces, a radiance all borrowed from the heart, was one of the most beautiful sights I have seen. These people loved the royal visitor before ; she knew before- hand, I dare say, that they loved her ; but not till that hour did she see and feel the fullness of their love. Each shining face was the mirror of a loving heart. The Christian knows that, like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth him, yet his chief desire is that the love in God's heart would ap- pear, as it were, in His face, and so conquer all his doubts, and beget love in return. Thus God's mission-work prospers in our heart of hearts, and soon spreads through — II. Our Home. — Our Saviour likens the kingdom of heaven to leaven, which a woman took and hid in three measures of meal till the whole was leavened. The leaven is not on, but in the meal, placed in the centre of it ; it spreads through and through it, and then it passes over from the leavened meal into other meal lying near it. The leaven has foi'ce to change all the meal it touches. Thus God's grace, when it is not hindered, liegins in the inmost heart and works from within outwards, leavening first the life at home. Home is certainly meant, though not mentioned in our prayer. ' God bless us, ' not me ; it is the prayer of one who is not solitary, but planted in a family. He who prays for all men must specially embrace those who are nearest and dearest to him. God has given you a mission of your own, which He has given to no one else. It is to do what you can to make your home holy and happy. The Bible is a very homely book, for it .says much about home duties. It tells you that before you can do anything else well, 'you must first learn to show piety at home '. You sometimes sing of ' home, sweet home,' but it is the folks in it, young and old, who make home sweet. If they are not sweet, home often becomes only a house less loved than the house of strangers. Often one boy or girl can make a home happy or wretched ; can fill it with sunshine, or overshadow it with a cloud. Now God's grace should take away from you every bitter thing, and make you one of the best of sons or daughters, of brothel's or sisters ; one of God's best gifts to your family. I remember visiting a sick Sabbath-school girl, who lived with her mother in one of the humblest homes. The mother, whose sins had made her an outcast, stood by the bedside weeping. I could hardly have believed that there were so many tears in any fountain as came through her two eyes. 'Pray that God won't take away my little lassie,' she said. ' I'm sure He sent her as a good angel to me. I forgot all that was good till she began to sing her little hymns to me, and tell me what she heard at the school. I fear that if she's not with me, I will go back to my old bad ways.' God had blest that girl, and caused His face to shine upon her, so that His way and saving health were known also by her mother. His grace in her heart widened till it had filled her home also. From our home we pass on to the larger circle of— III. Our Neighbourhood and our nation. — Every Christian must have the mission spirit ; for it is the very spirit of God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. This earth was a dark spot in God's bright universe, a sort of out-field oveiTun with weeds ; but it is also heaven's mission-field. Some old wiiter has said that ' God had only one Son, and He made Him a mis- sionary '. You should have pitying love for all around you who have erred, and gone out of the way. But your hearts should be drawn out chiefly to the young, who have had almost no chance of doing well, who are untaught and uncared for, and who are growing up among unholy sights and sounds. The more I know of these people, the less I like a name often given to them, ' the lapsed masses '. It means the fallen masses. Now all men form a lapsed mass ; for we are all the fallen sons of fallen Adam ; and we should not give to the ignorant and the poor a name of dis- honour which may with equal justice be given to all men. I am sure that among these neglected people there are as noble hearts as beat under purple and gold. The words of Christ are true of many of them, ' the last shall be first '. God has been doing great things among them. I believe that under the sun there are no more grand anditouching facts than are met with in this great home harvest-field of the Church. Do you ask, What am I to do in it ? What can I do ? You can think about it. You should have a warm heart for the poor, and for all who try to do them good. You should resolve that when you are fit for it, you shall have some share in such Christ-like work. Your love should so unite 280 Ver. 13. PSALM LXVIII Ver. 13. you to your fellow-countrymen, that you will feel for their sins and sorrows. You should not be selfish, but ask God to help you, that through you His saving health may be at least a little better known among your own yieople, and in your own nation. This is what is usually called the home-mission spirit. That is a yery fine word, and sets forth plainly the sum of this address ; for the work of God begins at home in the hearts of men, and is carried on around their hearths, and then spreads in their neighbourhood in ever-broadening circles, and enlarges the Christian heart to embrace. IV. The Whole World.— The Christian prays that God's way and saving health may be known among all nations, and that God may be feared and praised from the rising of the sun unto his going down. He believes firmly that the ignorant heathen may be taught God's way. He also believes that God's saving health can cure all the deep-running sores of the nations, and that nothing else can. He knows, too, that it is the duty, and should be the joy of all who know the glad tidings, to publish them over the whole earth. I have now come to what we call foreign missions, but we should regard all our mis- sions as home missions. For the whole world was the home of the Son of man, and should be the home of His Church ; and in these days when men run to and fro, and our ships plough every ocean, the farthest-oflT nations are really more our neighbours than some cornei-s of our own country were a hundred yeare ago. A gentleman once said to Dr. Skinner, who was asking aid for foreign missions, ' I don't :elieve in foreign missions. I won't give anything except to home missions. I want what I give to benefit my neighbours.' ' Well,' the doctor made reply, ' whom do you regard as your neighbours ? ' ' Why, those around me.' ' Do you mean those whose land joins yours ? ' 'Yes.' ' Well,' said Dr. Skinner, ' how much land do you own ? ' About five hun- dred acres,' was the reply. 'How far down do you own it ? ' inquired Dr. Skinner. ' Why, I never thought of it before, but I suppose I own half-way through.' 'Exactly,' said the doctor; 'I suppose you do, and I want this money for the Chinese — the men whose land joins yours on the bottom.' Every Christian should say in a higher sense than the poet meant, ' I am a man, and nothing human is foreign to me '. Were I asked what boys and girls should do for foreign missions, my answer would be— Read, Think, Give, Pray. — James Weli^, Bible Echoes, p. 265. CARLO {Two Portions) ' Though ye have lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver.' — Psalm lxviii. 13. I. Though ye have Lien among the Pots. — A few yeai's ago a book was published by a lady, in which she made many things which are in the Bible plain, by telling what she had seen in the land where the Bible was written. Among the things made plain by her was the verse in Psalm lxviii. — 'Though ye have lien among the pots, yet ye shall be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold '. In the land where the Bible was written the houses have flat roofs. People go up there in the cool evenings to sit. Sometimes they sleep there ; and sometimes they cook their food there. When the food is cooked on the roof, the fire is built in a corner ; the pots and pans are kept in that corner ; and, of course, there is always a heap of soot and ashes there. Now the nights are sometimes very cold in that land, and doves like to have a warm bed to sleep in, and they are wise enough to find out and like the warm corner on the house-tops where the fires have been. And although it is not very tidy or clean there, it is wai-m, and they fold their wings and lie down in the ashes beside the pots and pans, and go to sleep ; and very soon their beautiful wings are soiled and blackened with ashes and soot. One morning, when this lady had been sleeping on the roof of the house where she was staying, she happened to wake very early, and as she was looking about her and at the beautiful sky, she saw some doves that had been sleeping in the fireplace waking up, rising from their bed of ashes, and shooting out and up in the morning air. And as they flew past she noticed that the morning light fell so richly on their wings that they shone like silver and gold. Then she remembered this verse in the sixty-eighth Psalm. The very thing she was looking at had been seen hundreds of years before by the singer who first sang that Psalm. He had said to himself, j ust as this lady said, 'That is a picture of the change which takes place when God drops down His blessing on any humble life'. Yes, just that way shine the lives of poor mothers and mothers' children when God visits their lowly homes with the glad tidings of His love. He brings them out into the light. He covers them with the light. They become His children, and everything in them and about them is changed. They are like the doves that have been sleeping among the ashes, with wings all soiled by their humble bed among the pots, soaring into the beautiful light of the morning, until the soiled wings shine as if covered with silver, and the fea there as with yellow gold. I once heard of a poor boy of whose life this verse is almost the very story, and to whom on two occa- sions it came as if sent from God Himself He had been brought over from Savoy to sweep chimneys in London. I am afraid he was stolen and sold to do this work. It was a hard time for boys like him. They had to rise in the early morning, before the people of the city had begun to wake, and go out with a brush in their hand and a bag on their back, bai'efooted, winter and summer, after their masters, along the silent streets, crying, ' Chimneys to sweep — sweep — sweep ! ' But, far worse than that, they had to go up the chimneys, from the fireplace inside to the chimney-pot on the roof, brushing all the way. 281 Ver. 13. PSALM LXVIII Ver. 13. Sometimes, in the cold mornings, perhaps only half awake, the little fellows would be afraid to go up all alone into the dark and narrow chimney ; and too often when this befell they were beaten and compelled to go up. Many and many a time when I myself was a boy have I met those tiny little chaps in the street, with white channels on their black cheeks, where the tears had been running down. I do not know that Carlo, whose story I am telling, was ever beaten by his master ; but he was often spoken to very harshly. He was not very well fed. He had to sleep in a miserable bed. His clothes were very thin, and soiled, and poor ; and he was as lone- some as any boy ever was in London. He knew no one. His father, if he was living still, was far away in Savoy. His mother was dead. He had never been to school : he did not even know the ABC. The only pleasure he had was playing marbles with boys as poor as himself. There was one thing, however, in Carlo's life, poor and wretched though his lot was, which was better to him than money or fine clothes. God had put a great hunger for school learning into his heart. As he went along the streets and saw the shop-signs, he often said to himself, ' Some day I hope to be able to read these signs '. And the day came, sooner than he hoped for, when he was to make a beginning in this learning. It was a bright day in summer. His morning's work was over ; he had been to his master's place with his bag and brush ; and now, with the soot rubbed off his face and shaken out of his hair, he was going some errand for his master's wife. He had to cross a large square in which there was a public school. Just then the boys had their play-hour, and it was the time for marbles. Little groups were scattered about, kneeling and bending over their game, and some of the school books had been thrown on the ground, and were being blown open by the wind. It was the first time Carlo had seen a school book, or, except tlu'ough a bookseller's window, any book. He stopped, he knelt down, he looked at what seemed to him the strange forms of the lettei-s. And the desire came strongly into his heart that he also might have the blessing which those boys who were playing had, and one day be able to read then- books. Just then, however, the boy whose book he was bending over saw the black figure near it, and came up and gave him a scolding for looking at his books. The poor Savoyard at first started up, and shrank back afraid and soiTy, and was about to pass on, when a thought came into his mind in a moment, and in his broken English he spoke it out, ' I am sorry ! I did not mean to soil your book ; but if you will turn over the leaves and let me see to the end I will give you some marbles.' The boy went into that proposal at once and got the marbles. And then the sweep-boy said, ' I should so like to learn to read a book. I will come every day at this hour if you will teach me the letters, and I will give you a marble for eveiy letter I learn.' This bargain also was struck, and the little man soon began to get well on in the alphabet. But the book in which he had his lessons began also to have some marks of sooty fingers, and his boy-teacher told him that he was being scolded in the school, and could not teach him any more. Carlo was very sad, and it was a day or two before his sadness grew less. But j ust then he remembered that there was a churchyard near the square, and that the headstones were covered with letters. He went back to the boy who had taught him, gave him a handful of marbles he had won that morning, and asked if he would come for five minutes every day to the cemetery and teach him from the stones. And he did. And other boys came to think it good play to help. And by and by the poor Savoyard knew letters and was able to read the smaller words on the stones. II. Wings of a Dove Covered with Silver. — The story I am telling you takes us back to the time when Sunday schools began to be held in London. By some means or other Carlo found his way to a Sunday school. Here it was his good hap to have a kind teacher, a working joiner, who took an interest in him, and helped him to learn to read. And before long he could read the easy verses in the Gospels pretty well. The teacher's son was about Carlo's own age, but was attending a public school. He was a very kind lad, and used to tell the poor Savoyard what fine doings they sometimes had at school. One Simday he came to him in great glee, and said the school was to go in procession with other schools to St. Paul's Cathedral on Holy Thursday, and it was to be a holiday. And then he said, ' And you will come also. Carlo ; it will be fine to be there '. Carlo re- solved to be there. It wanted some weeks to the time, but he began to get ready for the coming joy. His master gave him liberty for that day, and the master's wife said she would see to his having a pair of shoes and a cap. And at last the day came, and Carlo was early at St. Paul's. But it was one thing to be allowed to attend a Sunday school in a back court of the City and in a poor room, and another thing to be allowed to enter St. Paul's on Holy Thursday. Carlo's Sunday clothes were only a little better than those he wore on week- days, and they bore marks by which anyone could see that the wearer of them was an apprentice sweep. Although he had washed his hands and face, he had to do it without soap, and they also bore some marks of his daily labours. To look at him, it must be said Carlo was anything but clean. But he did not know this. He had done the best he could to be clean, and he came up to the door through which the schools were passing in, and went forward to enter. Alas ! a sharp rude blow was dealt him by the staff' of one of the doorkeepers, and in an angry voice the man ordered him to .stand back and let the school children in. Never before did Carlo realise how far lie was from good things. He was not good enough even to enter a church. The tears started into his eyes. The day 282 Ver. 13. PSALM LXVIII Ver. 13. he had so long looked forward to was to be for him a day of misery. He had not courage to make a second attempt to enter. He turned aside and sat down on one of the gravestones with a heavy and sad heart. Meanwhile the procession of children passed in ; hundreds and thousands went in. And then the service began. Just at that time there was living in London a very wonderful man, a painter of great pictures and also a poet. His name was William Blake. He must have seen the children marching into St. Paul's. As far as I can make out by the dates of my story, it was ill that very year that this jjainter-poet wrote his great song called ' Holy Thursday,' in which he describes the procession : — 'Twas on a. Holy Tliursday, their innocent faces clean, Came children walking two and two, in red and blue and Sreen, Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow. Till into the high dome of St. Paul's they like Thames waters flow. But poor Carlo had neither red nor blue nor green to put on. And it was one of those grey-headed beadles who so cruelly struck him with his staff. As he sat there he fairly broke down. It was like being shut out of heaven. His thoughts went away far back into a happier time in Savoy. He remembered being taken once bv his mother into a building larger and grander even than St. Paul's, and no one had offered to shut him out then. But those days were gone. His mother was dead ; he was a stranger and an out- cast now in a strange land. It was rather cold where he had taken up his seat, and he went round to the sunny side of the cathedral, and sat down beneath a window where he could hear the organ play. Just inside there, as it happened, the choir was placed, and the anthem that day had been chosen from the sixty-eighth Psalm. It was only the sound he could hear when the whole choir sang. But now and again single voices took up the words, and these fell on his ear with great distinctness. And thus, to this poor child that day came to comfort him the words which have led me to tell this story, 'Though ye have lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold '. It was as if the words had been sent to him direct from God. He could not quite understand their meaning ; he only understood that they were words for such as he. It was because he had been lying among the pots that he was shut out from the church that morning. And now God was speaking to him by the words of the singer who sang that verse of the Psalm. A new feeling took hold of him. In a dim way he felt that God would not shut him out. He waited till the service was over and the school in which his friend was had marched past, and then went home. And it was none too soon that he went home. Everything there was in a confusion. A fire had broken out in the City, and the master had been sent for to help to put it out. Carlo was to come after him as soon as he returned. He had taken very little food in the morning, and although he was both hungry and faint now, he had to change his clothes and hurry after his master as fast as he could. The moment he arrived his master ordered him to climb a neigh- bouring roof, and pour the buckets of water which would be sent up to him on that. But to that very roof, as soon as he had reached it, the wind began to bend the flames. When he took his place on the ridge the smoke and the heat were stifling. And soon it was plain that this house also would be burned. The master shouted to the boy to come down, but the crackling of the fire and the hubbub of the noise below drowned it, so that Carlo never heard. And then, as I said, he was faint with hunger and not able to decide for himself He waited for the buckets which never came up. The master got to be busy at other parts of the fire, and forgot that the boy had not come down. And there the child sat, waiting to do the work he had been sent up to do, unable to move because he had been ordered there, the flames all the while coming nearer and nearer every moment. Should he go down ? He knew he would be beaten if the water were carried up and he not there. He shouted as loud as he could for the water, but the noise of the fire drowned his voice too. What happened after that he never could tell. Whether he fell from the top, or was carried down on the falling roof, nobody knew. A fireman found him among the wreck in an insensible state. And when he came to himself he was in a hospital. It was a long time before he could move his limbs. Both had been broken by the fall, and he had other hurts besides. When at length the doctor said that his bones were knit, it was only to add, ' But you are not well yourself, poor boy ! ' He was far from well. He could not sleep at nights for pains in his breast. He was not able to take his food, and by and by it became plain to everybody who saw him that Carlo would never leave that bed alive. Yet that was, perhaps, the happiest time of his life. The Sunday-school teacher, whose son had been so kind to him, and who had helped him to read the Bible, came to see him two or three times a week. And always he spent a part of Sunday afternoon at his bedside. He could not speak much to Carlo, but he had kind ways with him, and used to read nice verses from the Bible. The boy thought to himself, that if Jesus had been in London he would have done j ust as this kind visitor did. And once or twice he let out that that thought was in his mind. At one visit the poor boy's face was covered over with beads of sweat, and the teacher took his handkerchief and gently wiped the face dry. The sufferer looked up and whispered, ' Jesus would have done that too '. An- other time his friend took him a basket of sponge- cake and some strawberries, and made a little feast for the two. Carlo said, ' This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them '. 283 Ver. 10. PSALM LXXII Ver. 10. But meanwhile he was sinking fast. He had been six months in the hospital ; the winter was drawing near, the nights were getting cold ; but his visitor never failed to come. One Sunday he found Carlo asleep, and he sat at the bedside till he should wake up. As he sat there, he could not help watching the white pinched face on the pillow. A flush was just then touching the cheeks, and something like a smile was moving over the lips. And then the eyes opened. ' I knew it was you,' he said, ' 1 have been seeing you in a dream. And such a happy dream it was!' Then, between spasms of pain, almost by single syllables at a time, he told his dream. He was in the presence of a great church, greater than St. Paul's, as great and beautiful as the church his mother took him to when a child. It was summer time ; the birds were singing ; the grass was white with flowers. As he stood there, troops of children began to arrive and to pass into the church. They were dressed in the most lovely dresses he had ever seen, and were smiling and singing as they went past. He also wished to enter, but remembered that he was covered with sooty clothes. But a strange thing happened. He seemed to see himself, all black and grimy, going up timidly to the door and pleading to get in. And he noticed, as the black-robed child stood there, that the great doors of the church were thrown open, and an angel came out and touched him. He saw the blackness passing away. He saw the angel covering the boy with a white and shining robe. He saw him taking the boy by the band and leading him in. And just at that moment he heard sung by a single voice in the choir, as he had heard six months before, but more sweetly, the words, ' Though ye have lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold '. ' But, dear teacher, the great sight was this, I thought that angel was just like you.' That was the last visit the teacher had to make to his poor scholar. Carlo died next day, and I am sure he went to that very Saviour whom he had learned to know, partly from reading about Him in the Gospel and partly from seeing Him — -or thinking he saw Him — in the face and words and acts of his gentle teacher. — A. Maci-eod, The Children's Portion, p. 75. BRINGING GIFTS TO JESUS {Epiphany) ' The kings of Tharsis and of the isles shall give presents : the kings of Arabia and Saba shall bring gifts.' — Psalm LXXII. 10. The original reference in this verse, and, indeed, throughout the whole Psalm from which it is taken, is to the peaceful and glorious reign of King Solomon. In answer to his earnest prayer, God had bestowed upon him 'an understanding heart, to judge his people ' ; and his subjects were the better and happier for it. The mild and judicious administration of the prince was refreshing and salutary as the rain on the tender grass. Righteousness prevailed throughout his widespread dominions. Distant realms submitted themselves to his beneficent rule. As was foretold in the words of the text, ' The kings of Tharsis and of the isles ' gave ' presents : the kings of Arabia and Saba ' brought 'gifts ' (see 1 Kings x. 22, etc.). The learned are not agreed where this Tharsis was,' but there is strong ground for the opinion that it was the same as Tartessus in Spain, which was situ- ated not far from the Straits of Gibraltar, and near the site of the famous city of Granada, of later times. Be this as it may, once in three years the ships of Tharsis reached the seaport nearest to the court of King Solomon, bringing a goodly freight of gold, and silver, and other precious things. The Queen of Sheba also came from far, to hear the wisdom of this wonderful monarch, and to see his glory. You remember that our blessed Saviour makes mention of her (Matt xn. 42). The Psalm from which I have chosen the text has a much deeper meaning than this. It refers to a King greater and mightier than Solomon — -even our Lord Jesus Christ. Jewish writers taught that the test, and the verses connected with it, chiefly allude to the glories of the reign of the Messiah ; and the early Christian Fathei-s said the same. Indeed our Lord makes Solomon a type of Himself, in His remarkable declaration, ' Be- hold, a greater than Solomon is here I ' (Luke xi. 31). The prediction in the text was fulfilled in the case of our blessed Lord, when, on the Epiphany, the day when Christ Jesus was manifested to the Gentiles, wise men came from the Eastern lands to Jerusalem, seeking for the newborn King (Matt. ii). In Persia (where it is thought that these wise men lived) their attention was attracted by a star unlike the other heavenly bodies ; and God taught them, in some way, that it betokened the coming of the great Deliverer. The prophecy of Balaam concerning the ' Star ' which should 'arise out of Jacob,' had, very likely, been familiar to them, and prepared them to under- stand the import of the unusual sign in the heavens. It is worth noting here, that in the Book of Reve- lation Jesus calls Himself the ' bright sxnd morning Star' (xxiL 16). The wide, open plains where the wise men of the East watched their flocks, were most favourable places for the study of astronomy, and the map of the blue vault above, which they had inadely sketched, had been a sort of Bible for them. They had given good heed to what this had taught them, and God guided them to the truth. One thing which strikes us very forcibly in these Persian wise men is their faith. While they were watching the star, it began to move slowly onward, and as it went they followed it. The three kings (as they are generally called) made haste to mount their camels, and, each with his casket of precious gifts, set off to pay homage to the new monarch whose birth was so signally honoured. The journey was long and wearisome, but nothing was allowed to stop them or turn them back. It is said, by tradition, that they travelled for twelve suc- 284 Ver. 10. PSALM LXXII Ver. 16. cessive days, led onward by the marvellous light in the heavens. At last the star stood still over the gates of Bethlehem, in the land of the children of Rachel, Jacob's beloved wife. The wise men had journeyed far in faith and hope, and now they had their reward. When they had gone into the humble habitation indicated by the star, they saw the young child, with Mary His mother ; and, believing Him to be the Holy One, the true Light of the world, they fell down and wor- shipped Him as God. The text had foretold that they should offer their precious gifts ; and so they did. ' When they had opened their treasures,' says St. Matthew, ' they pre- sented unto Him gifts ; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.' The gold was an acknowledgment of the royalty of the Holy Child ; the frankincense, of His divine character ; and the myrrh, of His sufferings and death. I once saw a very emious sight in the grand old Cathedral of Cologne. In a conspicuous place there, visitors are shown what is called ' the Shrine of the Magi, or Three Kings of Orient,' beneath which their bones are said to be buried. The skulls of the wise men, inscribed with their names (Gaspar, Melchior, Balthazar) written in rubies, are exhibited through an opening in the shrine. I merely mention this as a curious sight. Of course, I do not believe that the bodies or the skulls of the wise men ai'e in Cologne. As far as that goes, it matters little to them or to us where they are. Do you envy these wise men the privilege of be- holding the infant Savioor ? Do you say it would afford you great satisfaction to worship Him, and to present to Him precious gifts ? You need not envy them, nor complain that you cannot do what they did. God allows the same privilege to every one of us. The King Himself comes near To feast His saints to-day ; Here may we sit and see Him here, And love, and praise, and pray. Are we telling an untruth when we say this ? And then — as to offerings — we not only may bring them to Jesus, but we must. He expects all of His people, old and young, to do it. When we perform kind acts for the poor, the Lord Jesus con>iders it just the same as if we had done them for Himself He is pleased with these sacrifices which we make for His sake ; but never does He look with more favour on us, than when we give up ourselves to His service. The mite my willing hands can give, At Jesus's feet I lay ; Grace shall the humble gift receive : Abounding grace repay. When the wise men came to Bethlehem, they did not kneel to Joseph, nor the manger, nor even to the Blessed Virgin, but it was the Holy Child Jesus whom they fell down and worshipped. He alone should be the object of our devotion, and of oui- highest love. — John N. Noiiton, Milk and Honey, p. 37. THE HANDFUL OF CORN ON THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAINS ' There shall be an handful of com in the earth upon the top of the mountains.' — Psalm lxxil i6. I. Let us Think of Where the Corn comes from It does not come like anything else in the world. In the woods you may sometimes find a tree growing with a little round black fruit, hard and sour. It does not seem to be worth much by the side of the luscious plum from the garden. But that sloe, as it is called, is the plum in its wild state. The gardener takes it, and trains it, and cultivates it until it comes to be a larger and finer tree. So it is with the crab- tree and its little bitter fruit — that is the wild apple. And so with the strawben-y, and all the fruits and plants in our gardens. They were found in a wild state, and they had to be cared for and cultivated before they were worth anything. But nobody ever found corn growing wild. Unlike everything else, com is the special and peculiar gift of God, which He put into man's hand just as it is. You remem- ber that when Adam was in the Gai-den of Eden, he had to dress it and to keep it. All grew of itself and he had only to prune it and to keep it in order. But when he was driven forth from the garden, he had to ' eat bread '. And that was to grow, not of itself but only by hard work. ' In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread ' — this was the new commandment. So God gave to him 'the handful of corn,' unlike everything else. Now, if you will think for a moment, you will see how much this is like Jesus. He came a Man amongst men, and yet He is separate from us, and unlike us all. He is the special gift of God to a perishing world. All the good and wise men amongst us have been evil. They were born in sin, and their hearts, like ours, were prone to be wild and evil. The Husbandman has had to watch over them and care for them, and He has brought them into gentleness and goodness and wisdom. But Jesus was born with- out sin. We could never have found such an one as Jesus amongst us. He is the gift of God, the Bread of Life sent down from heaven. And it is plea.sant to remember that Jesus was given to us in Bethlehem — that means, you know, ' the House of Bread '. Away on the Judean hills then, in the House of Bread, Goi gave to us ' the handful of corn '. II. Then think of another wonderful thing about the corn. It will Grow all Over the World. — You learn of different things that grow in different countries — sugar in the West Indies and tea in China, and spices and many kinds of trees in other places. I have heard that once, when a certain ship came into an Australian harbour, all the people flocked down to it, and everybody was eager to buy, even at a fabulous price, the treasure that it can-ied on board. What do you think the treasure was ? Why, nothing 285 Ver. 16. PSALM LXXII Ver. li. but a little daisy — ^a common daisy. And to these people far away it seemed like a little bit of home come to them when they saw a daisy again. Though it was common enough here, there it did not grow. But corn grows all over the world. No em grant ever goes to a place where he cannot sow corn and reap a harvest. In the tropics, where the sua beats down upon them with a sweltering heat, corn will gTow. Up in the Arctic regions, where the people wrap themselves in skins of wild beasts, and have little else but whales and seals, they can grow corn. Wherever man can live, corn can grow. And is not that like our blessed Jesus ? He says to us, ' Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world '. No home but may have Him in it ; no, heart but Jesus will dwell there ; no land under heaven but there men may find the Bread of Life. In wild woods, amongst eternal snows, in the heat of the desert, out on the seas, in the islands, on the lonely top of the mountains — everywhere men may find Jesus. He is ' the Bread of Life ' of which all the world maj' eat. III. And let us think again of What the Corn is Worth. — A very little thing to talk about, this — ■' a handful of corn ! ' — to leave off singing about gold and kings and costly presents, to speak about a little thing like this ! It seems very strange at fii-st. But, you know, corn is worth more than gold and all this splendour. Everybody wants bread. The queen cannot do without it, and the poor beggar must have his crust. Everybody wants it. The Book says, ' milk ' for ' babes,' and ' strong meat ' for men ; but little folks and old men both need bread. And this, too, is like Jesus. We all need Him. Children and old folk, the weak and the strong, the rich and the poor — none can do without Jesus. And we need Him more than everything. The king in his palace needs Him more than all that he has. There are times when his crown can't help him, and all liis wise men are of no avail, and all his wealth and splendour can do nothing for him ; but if he has found Jesus, he has more than all the world. So we need not wonder that the Psalmist sang of ' a handful of corn '. IV. And there is another reason why the Psalmist chooses it to sing about, Because it has Life in it. — The man who has dug for gold comes to change his gold for bread, and the man who has found a diamond sells his diamond to buy bread. And gold and diamonds belong to Him who sowed the ' handful of corn '. And so Jesus is like the handful of corn upon the top of the mountains ; the prophet tells us that we ' esteemed Him not,' and ' hid as it were our faces from Him ' ; there was no appearance of greatness in Him, or of power. But \n Him is life. He comes into our hearts, and we are made like Him, and fi-om us others catch a grain of the good seed, and the life spreads from heart to heart and from soul to soul, until ' the whole earth shall be filled with His glory '. — Mark Guy Pearse, Sermons for Children, p. 67. HOW JESUS BLESSES MEN ' Men shall be blessed in Him.' — Psalm lxxii. 17. Everybody in the world receives some blessing from Jesus. The blessings He obtained for us are so numerous that even the poor heathen, who have never heard of His name, have received some of His blessings. But I wish to speak of what Jesus does for His own people, — for those who love and serve Him — to make them blessed. I will mention three things which Jesus does to bless them. The first thing He does for them is to Make them Wise. — It is a great thing to be wise. People may be wise in many different ways. Some men are wise to make money, and others are wise to get honour. Some men are wise to build houses, and others are wise to build ships. Some are wise to cure diseases, and others are wise to make interesting books, or to invent curious machines that no one else ever thought of Some are wise as generals to win battles, and others are wise as rulers to govern nations. Some are wise to do good, and others are wise to do evil. But I do not mean any of these ways when I speak of Jesus making people wise. The way in which He blesses people is by making them wise to serve God — wise to save their souls — wise to get to heaven. This is the only true wisdom. The Bible says this ' wisdom is the principal thing ' ; ' it is more precious than rubies'; and 'he that findeth this wisdom is happy or blessed '. The second way in which He blesses them, is by Making them Strong. I said a little while ago that there ai'e different wavs of being wise, and so now I may say there are different ways of being strong. Sometimes people are strong in body. Samson was strong in this way. What wonderful power he had ! He could take hold of a lion and tear its jaws asunder with his own hands. He could pull up the huge gates of a city with the posts and bars, and carry them all away on his shoulders. He could kill a thousand men with the jaw-bone of an ass. He could take hold of the pillars of a great temple, and bend them like young twigs, and tumble the whole building down just as easily as a child can knock down a house of cards. Some people are strong in mind. They can do a wonderful deal of thinking with great ease. Napoleon Bonaparte was so strong in mind, was such a great thinker that he could keep six persons writing, and could think for them all just as fast as they could write. And then some persons are strong in soul. I mean by this that they have power or strength to do what is right, and to resist what is wrong. This is the strength that Jesus gives to His people. I do not mean to say that He doesn't give the other kinds of strength too, for all the strength of any kind that people have comes from Him. But I mean that strength of soul is the best kind of strength, and Jesus blesses His people by giving them this. And this strength is very important, because there is so 286 Ver. 2. PSALM LXXVIII Ver. 2. much wickedness in the world that unless we are made strong in this way we cannot keep from sinning. Without this strength we shall be just like wax in the hands of bad pe()|)le, and they will twist us into anv shape thev please. Hnw nuich of strength Daniel had when he wouldn't stop praying, even though the king threatened to put him into the den of lions ! And how much of this strength Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had, when they would rather be thrown into the fierv furnace than worship the idol of the king of Babylon! A soul without strength is like a body without a back-bone. The back-bone runs through the bod v like a pillar or column, and sup- ports it. If we had no back-bones, our bodies would fall all in a heap like an empty bag. We couldn't stand, or walk, or work without them ; but with them we can stand, and lift, and do what we please. It is a good thing to have a strong body, but it is a great deal better to have a strong soul. ' Mother,' said a little boy as he came home from school one day, ' I'm sure you would like Tom Ashton, in our school.' 'Why so, Willie?' asked his mother. 'Because, when the boys want him to play truant, or swear, or tell lies, or do anything that is wrong, he gives them such a strong No ! ' Tom Ashton had back-bone in his soul. Jesus had made him strong. It is a great ble.ssing to be able to give ' a strong no ' when we aie tempted to do wrong. III. The third wav in which Jesus blesses His people, is by iVIaking: them Good. If we want to be good inside, we must get our hearts changed. And Jesus only can do this. He says in the Bible, ' A new heart will I give them, and a new spirit will I put within them '. When Jesus undertakes to make people good, He always begins with the heart. When that is made good, then we are good inside. If you can make a fountain pure, then you may be very sure that the streams which flow out from it will be pure also. Some time ago I went to the docks to see one of the great ships lying there. The friend who was showing me about asked me if I knew where they first went to work in building a ship. I said, No. ' Well,' says he, ' the first piece of timber that is laid is the middle of the keel, and all the rest is built upon that. ' Now, the centre of the keel is the very middle of the ship. ' Ah ! ' I thought to myself when I heard this, ' that is j ust what Jesus does when He is going to build a Christian. He begins at the heart. He makes that good first, and then, by degrees. He makes all the rest good too. He makes His people "good inside" first, and then He makes them good outside afterwards ' ' Men shall be blessed in Him.' — Richard Newton, Bible Blessings, p. 49. OPEN SECRETS ' Dark sayings.' — Psalm lxxviii. 2. Th's is a curious expression. Did you ever see 'a saying ' ? I never did. I have heard a good many sayings in my time but I never saw one. Perhaps it was there all the time and I could not see it because I was searching for it like the niyger boy looking for a black cat in a dark cellar without a light ! But, after all, I don't think that could be the reason. You cannot see a ' say ' as you can see a saw ; we must seek for the meaning in another direction. There is a statue of Shakespeare set up in Leicester Square, and this quotation is carved upon it : ' There is no darkness but ignorance '. That is true. God is perfectly wise, and therefore there is nothing hidden from Him ; He is perfectly wise, and so understands all things. A 'dark saying,' then, just means some- thing we cannot make out. But the fault may not be in the saying — the fault may be in us ; we haven't brought the light with us. There is a name we have for these dark sayings ; we call them riddles. How dark a riddle is at first ! You can't see through it. But when you do discover it at last, what do you say ? Isn't it this ? — ' Ah ! I see it now ! ' And then how foolish you feel — foolLsh to think how long you had been in seeing what, after all, was so plain ! The riddle was a riddle till you brought the key ; but the key had been in your own head all the time if you could only have got at it quicker. But there is another name we sometimes give to these dark sayings. We call them secrets. Do you know the difference between a riddle and a secret ? It is the difference between finding and exploring. When you discover a riddle you discover it all at once^ — -there is a flash, as it were, an idea, and you have got it. But it is different with a secret. You have to dig for that as men dig for gold and silver, and when you have got it, it doesn't look like gold or silver, but like copper or iron ; you have to leam how to melt it and get it out. Or you have to master it as men master the Greek and the Hebrew — by learning a little bit, and a little bit more everv dav ; understanding a little bit, and a little bit more everv day. The work has to go on inside yourself before you can come to read quite plainly what had been such a strange, mysterious secret to you before. And then, most likely, after years and years of hard study you laugh quietly to yourself, and sav, ' Where is the secret ? There is none ! It is all plain and open to me ; I wonder how I ever could have thought there was any mystery about it.' Yes, it was your ignorance that made the darkness ; the darkness was in you and not in the sayings. It is the same with everything. God has to teach us. It is dark or quite plain just as we bring or do not bring the right light to it. He has not hidden anything from us ; things are hidden from us j ust as the Hebrew or Greek may be hidden from us. We may see the letters but yet not understand their meaning, because we haven't tried to train ourselves for it. Do you remember how, when David was in danger, his friend Jonathan gave him a warning ? Jonathan was watched, and therefore could not go and speak to 287 Ver. 2. PSALMS LXXXVL, LXXXIX Ver. 15. David, but he had agreed about a signal to give him. So Jonathan went out into the field and began to shoot arrows. If you had seen him then you would simply have thought he was amusing himself. But David from his hiding-place was watching, and by the way the arrows went he learnt that Saul was seeking for his life. He was in the secret, and Jonathan was in the secret, but to everybody else it was only an idle game. Yet there was such a deep meaning in it all. And that is how it is with all that is around us. God has a meaning in everything. He is trying to signal to us through everything ; but we can get at His meaning only as we have been let into His secret. It is a secret, and yet it is not a secret ; it is quite plain, and yet there is only one who can understand it. Who is that ? It is the boy or the girl, the man or the woman, who fears God. ' The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him.' To fear Him doesn't mean to be afraid of Him. It is quite the other way ; it means to love Him, to trust Him, to keep on thinking about Him, to lift the heart to Him in everything — to remember God in all our ways. As we do that we are learning God as we would learn a language. The Bible, the world, our own hearts, Jesus, everything becomes clearer and simpler, and easier to understand ; the darkness goes as we bring more light, but the light must come from our own hearts. It is the fear of the Lord that is the begin- ning of wisdom — a' wisdom that is more than know- ledge and better than knowledge — the wisdom that Cometh down from above. Keep your hearts always towai'ds God. Be reverent in everything about Him ; be humble, willing to learn ; above all, be trustful. The teacher cannot teach anything unless the child believes what he says, and God cannot teach us or ' enhghten ' us unless we do the same. How do you see the sun ? It is because the sun is shining ; the sun gives the light by which you see the light. And just so it is only God who can show us God. Then begin with Him, continue with Him, end with Him about everything, and His darkest sayings will become very, very bright, and their brightness will make up the eternal daytime of your soul. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Preacher, p. 202. 'I AIW HOLY' ' Preserve my soul ; for I tun holy.' — Psalm lxxxvi. 2. I. The Meaning. — ' What presumption ! ' But ' holy ' has two meanings : — 1. It means ' very good '. So Ood is Holy. Jesus is Holy (Acts iv. 27). The angels are Holy. [Clergyman once asked little Irish boy, ' What does holy mean ? ' ' Plase, your riverence, to be clane inside.'] But — 2. It means consecrated, set apart. [Illustrate : The church is a holy building ; the churchyard, a holy place ; Sunday, a holy day. In each case explain why. So men may be set apart — priests in the temple — clergymen, etc.]. If David wrote this psalm, then a good reason for saying he was holy. Picture out his consecration from 1 Samuel XVI. In this second meaning, not presumptionhut faith to say, ' I am holy '. [If sheep could speak, might say to shepherd, ' I have your mai'k upon me, there- fore take care of me '.] II. The Application. — We are not very good — could not ask God to save us, because in this sense we are Holy ; but in the other sense : — 1. Our consecration. [Picture out a baptism — small baby. What is done to it ? What said ? ' Christ's faithful soldier and servant '. So set apart — has the mark put on it — made holy.] 2. Remember you have been set apart — you have got the Good Shepherd's mark on you. Therefore you may ask for help and say, ' Preserve me ; for I am holy'. (i) Sometimes in trouble — cf. Psalmist — the great helper. But why should He help me ? I am Holy — marked with His mark — therefore He must help if I ask Him. (ii) When tempted — hard to resist temptation — but ' not our own ' — belong to some one else — ask Him. One of these days, if we trust Him to whose service we have been set apart, He will bring us through all dangers and temptations safe to live in His own home. Then we shall indeed be Holy in the very best and most perfect sense. — C. A. Goodhart, Hints and Outlines for Children's Services, p. 51. THE BLESSINGS BROUGHT TO US BY THE GOSPEL ' Blessed are the people that Icnow the joyful sound.' — Psalm LXXXIX. 15. It is a blessed thing to hear the joyful sound of the Gospel, because of the benefits which it brings to us. I. The ^rsi of these benefits of which I would speak is Knowledge. — In the last chapter I said that the first of the evils from which the Gospel saves us is ignorance. And now, in talking about the benefits which the Gospel brings us, it is proper to begin by speaking of the wonderful knowledge which it gives us. Knowledge is like light. It helps us to see things clearly, and to understand all about them ; but if we were left without knowledge, these things would seem to us just as if they were in the dark. II. The second benefit which the Gospel brings to those who hear its joyful sound is Pardon. The greatest evil under which anybody in the world ever suffered is sin. And the greatest blessing or benefit anybody can receive is to get rid of sin. To get rid of sin is to have it pardoned. The pardon of sin is a blessing worth more than all the gold and silver in the world put together. But perhaps some of you may be ready to ask. Well, if the pardon of sin is really such a very great blessing, why do not »eop]e try more to get it ? This is a very proper question to ask just here. The answer to it is this : Ver. 15. PSALM L XXXIX Ver. 15. People do not value the pardon which Jesus brings, because they do not see and feel what a dreadful evil sin is. If they could only see this in its proper light as God sees it, they would never rest, and never have any pe.'ice or comfort till they were sure of a pardon. Some years ago there'was a rich man in India who was troubled about his sins, and wished to get them j)ardoned. The priest told him that in order to secure this it was necessary for him to make a rollinrj journey, to a particular ttmple, in a distant part of India. When he arrived there he v/as to set out a plantain tree and wait till the fruit was ripe, make an oftering of the fruit to his god, and then roll back again, and then he might hope that his sins would be pardoned. He resolved to do it. So he took his wife and children in a carriage that they might ride while he was rolling. He used to wr'ap a strong cloth round his head to protect it from being cut or bruisetl. Then he would roll himself along the road like a log of wood. Three or four miles a day was as much as he could proceed. Then he would rest with his family and start afresh the next day. His son would w'alk by him and fan him as he rolled along. When he was approaching a village the people would come out in crowds to meet him, and the musicians would walk before him to the temple in that village. He would roll up to the foot of the idol and worsship him. Then he would spend a few days to rest, and so go rolling on in his long journey. An English missionary met this man when he was still a long way from the temple to which he was going. He had then been more than seven years on his journey. Yet he was willing to go rolling on till he reached the temple, and then to roll all the way back again, with the mere hope that at last he might perhaps succeed in getting a pardon for his sins. But the Bible tells us that 'Jesus is exalted to God's right hand, to give pardon '. The pardon that He gives is free. He asks nothing for it. He gives it ' without money and without price '. It is a full pardon. It takes away all our sins and blots them out entirely, so that God has nothing against us, and we have nothing to fear, either while we live or when we die, either in this world or in the world to come. What a blessed thing it is then to hear the joyful sound of the Gospel I It is blessed because of the benefits which it brings. The second of these benefits is Pardon. III. We shall only speak of one more of the bene- fits which the Gospel brings, and this is Help. — There is nothing in the world that needs help more than a little infant. It is one of the most helpless of all things. The little duck can plunge into the water and swim as soon as it comes out of the shell. The little chicken, too, can run about at once and pick up its food. But the little infant can't do anything. It can't feed itself. It can't dress itself. It can't stand or walk by itself. It needs help for everything. And when we first begin to serve God, or when we become Christians, the Bible compares it to our being born again. Then we are spiritual infants. It is the babyhood of our souls then. And we need help for our souls then, just as we do for our bodies when they are in their babyhood. We need the help of Jesus for everything we try to do. This was what Jesus meant when He said, ' Without Me ye can do nothing '. When we read about the martyrs who were tortured and burnt and put to cruel deaths because they would not deny their Saviour, we often wonder to ourselves how it was that they could be so cheerful and happy even while their bodies were burning in the fire. If we just put our finger in the fire for a moment, we know very well how badly it pains us. Then how dreadful it must have been to be burnt to death I Yet some of the martyrs went to meet this fearful death as pleasantly as if they had been going to a feast. Sometimes they would hold out their hands in the flames, and sing praises to God while they were burning. How could they do it ? God helped them. — Richard Newton, Bible Blessings, p. 21. THE BLESSEDNESS OF HEARING THE GOSPEL .|i'|'' ' Blessed are the people that know the joyful sound.' — Psalm LXXXIX. 15. I. The first evil from which the Bible saves us is Ignorance. — Ignorance is to our minds just what darkness is to our bodies. It prevents us from seeing the things around us. When the sun is shining brightly, how pleasant it is to look out on a beauti- ful landscape ! We can see the green fields and the waving grain — the trees, the hills, the streams, and everything. But suppose the sun should suddenly be taken away. Could we see anything then ? No. All would be dark around us. We could see nothing. Now the Bible is like a sun to us. It sheds light on a great manv things. If it were not for the Bible, we should be left in the dark on all these things. The Bible drives away this darkness. It saves us fi-om ignorance. But we are so accustomed to the Bible, and the blessed light which shines from it, that we hardly know how to prize it enough, or what our con- dition would be if we had never had it. If we want to know what a blessed thing it is to hear its joyful sound, we must look at the ignorance of some of the people who have never had the Bible. Sometimes when the missionaries of the Gospel go to the heathen to teach them about Jesus and iHis religion, they have to begin first to teach them the English language, because many of the languages of the heathen have no words to express some of the most important things of which the missionaries wish to speak. Some of those languages have no word to stand for the 'soul,' or 'life,' or 'home,' or 'mercy,' or 'heaven,' or 'eternity'. Now, suppose we lived among a people who knew nothing about 'home — sweet home '. That is, suppose none of us had any home. Suppose that we did not know that there was such a thing as mercy, or such a place as heaven. Suppose that we did not know that we had a soul, and that we ai'e to live after death, how sad our state 289 19 Ver. 15. PSALMS LXXXIX., XC Ver. 8. would be ! We would be in the dark indeed ! How dreadful such ignorance would be ! And yet, if it were not for the Bible, we should be ignorant about these things, or left in the dark about them. But, ' Blessed are the people that know the joyful sound '. It is a blessed thing to have the Bible, be- cause of the evils from which it saves us. The first of these evils is Ignorance. II. The second of these evils is Oppression. — I suppose you all know what oppression means. For instance : here is a little boy going out into the fields to fly a kite which he has j ust made. A big boy meets him and threatens to beat him unless he gives him the kite. There is no one near to help the little boy. He is obliged to give up his kite, and let the big boy take it. That would be oppression. You might well say that that big boy was oppressing the little boy. And wherever anything like this is done bv one man towards another, that is oppression. III. The third evil from which the Bible saves us is Cruelty Wherever the Bible is not known cruelty prevails, in many forms. We read in the Bible that ' the dark places of the earth are full of the habita- tions of cruelty '. These dark places mean heathen lands. Wherever you go in heathen lands you meet with cruelty in one form or other. I know that this is not a pleasant subject to dwell upon. But we can- not tell how much we owe to the Bible, or what a blessed thing it is to hear this joyful sound, unless we do, in this way, look at the dreadful evils from which we are saved by having the Bible. And one of the worst of these evils is the ci'uelty which prevails in lands where the Bible is not known. One of these forms of cruelty is ihe, offering of human sacrifices. Not long since there was war on the west coast of Africa. One of the tribes, before going to battle, re- solved to offer a sacrifice to their god, in order to secure success. They selected a little boy, about eight years old, as their victim. Thev dressed him in the finest clothes they had. They decorated his fingers and toes with gold rings, and hung around his neck greegrees, or charms. They then placed him in a deep hole, with his head j ust above the ground. The poor little fellow cried and screamed, but nobody heeded him. A great crowd of men and women stood round, and watched what was done. They filled up the hole with earth and stones. Thev piled it up over his head till a great mound was raised above him, and then they left him, in his living grave, to die a miserable death. All through Africa such dreadful sacrifices are offered from time to time. And so we might go on to speak of cannibalism, or the eating of human flesh, and a great many other forms of cruelty which are found in heathen lands ; but from all these evils we are delivered, because we are blessed in hearing the joyful sound of the Gospel. Cruelty is the third evil from which the Bible saves us. IV. The fourth and last evil of which I would speak, from which the Bible saves us, is Idolatry. — ' Blessed are the people that know the joyful sound '' of the Gospel. It is a blessed thing to hear this sound, because of the evils from which it saves us. — Richard Newton, Bible Blessings, p. 9. OUR SECRET SINS Psalm xc. 8. Every man has his secret sins, and nearly half his life is spent in endeavouring to hide them. How many of our most candid, open-minded and above- board young people would tell all their thoughts, even to their best friends ? There is scarcely a person among our acquaintances who does not hide thoughts of such unworthy character that if he knew it were possible for anyone to discover them, he would rather make the biggest sacrifice and break the closest and most loving ties than endure the shame which would be heaped upon him as their author. That is the reason why so many people hope they will be dead and gone before the X-rays will be applied to the mind and the spirit as they are now being applied to the body. One great deficiency in modern preaching is the very slight emphasis laid upon sin, especially the sin of the heart and mind. The result is that the major- ity of people take for granted that sin is not really sin until it is expressed in some deed or act. A greater mistake is hardly possible. Sins of thought hurt as long as they are hid, and cease hurting only when they are acknowledged, like the fox beneath the Spartan boy's robe that gnawed his flesh when it was covered up and stopped biting when it was re- vealed. It is a fact which cannot be too deeply impressed upon the human mind that God sees the thought long before it becomes an act. ' Human law and human power take no cognisance until the pot of passion boils over, but God sees the ingredients in the cauldron, seething, bubbling, and kept for years ft-om boiling over by fear of public exposure and censure.' Take murder for example. The world only sees it in the spilt blood and the ghastly mangled corpse of the victim, but God sees the seed of it growing in the heart — He observes the poison- ous ingredients developing and ripening before the deed is done. ' Whosoever hateth his brother ' is a murderer. So with adultery. The world only sees the loathsome scandal as it gloats over it in the columns of the daily papers, but God sees the poison in the heart. In like manner, covered sin becomes a rotten hollow in a human soul, and when the strain comes the false gives way and the crash follows. Among such sins we mention — I. Covetousness. — The covetousness we are warned against in the ' old book ' is the overstrong desire for more, a desire uncontrolled by reason or conscience, or the fear of God. A desire that is willing to gain for itself at the expense of others, and at the expense also of higher and better things. It is not coveting to desire a berth in a large and respectable firm, but 290 Ver. 8. I'SALMS XC, XCI to desire it at the expense of doing a mean shabby thing to get the present occupant out of it is covet- ousness of the most satanic type. To desire pleasure is natural to every man. He is made to enjoy it. But to desire it so vehemently as to whine and vex when the desire cannot be gratified is a very mean form of covetousness. There is even a worse form — that manifested by a professing Christian who pre- tends that he hates certain forms of pleasure because thev are sinful and yet longs to enjoy them. Every sin ever committed was born of desire. If we could only succeed in uprooting and crushing this sin there would be no other sin. That is why we have mentioned it first in the list. The whole history of the world is stained and darkened by the crimes to which men have been driven by this insidious secret sin. Take heed unto your aims and ambitions, and plans and desires. Be manly and independent in them all. Have nothing to enjoy but what you earn. Scorn every luxury but what you have a Divine right to enjoy, spurn every thought which leads you to desire what is not your own, and by doing this you will kill in the germ one of the deadliest secret sins of the soul. Another secret sin is — II. Pride. — When man thinks best of himself it is then as a rule God and others think worst of him. This fact makes it very difficult for us to make the lesson, in regard to pride, sharp and pointed enough to be driven home. That pride is one of the most far-reaching and deadly of the secret sins is a fact of which a mere glance at its history will convince us. ' It thrust Adam out of Paradise, Saul out of his kingdom, Haman out of his court, Nebuchadnezzar out of men's society, and Lucifer out of heaven.' It is not only deadly and far-reaching, but it is so subtle that Satan can often make a man proud he is not proud. Another secret sin is — III. Selfishness. — This sin has been defined as ' that detestable thing which no one forgives in others and noone is free fromhimself '. Archbishop Whately, while preaching upon it, once asked : ' Do you want to know the man against whom you have most reason to guard yourself? If so, your looking glass will give you a very fair likeness of his face.' The reason why there is so much self-satisfaction manifested among our young people in the present day is that there is so little self-examination. The grandest cure for selfishness is an intelligent look into the face of Jesus Christ — whose motto in all He is, does, gives, is ' for others '. Every pain He endured on earth had on it inscribed 'for others'. Every drop of blood He shed had on it ' for others '. Every pang which rent His heart on the cross was endured 'for others'. Every thorn in the crown which pierced His aching head, every nail driven through His lacerated, quivering flesh, said, as it did its work, ' for others '. When He entered the grave He did it ' for others '. When He rose triumphantly on the third day it was ' for others '. All He did in life — all He accomplished through death — was and is ' for others '. Therefore, uproot this secret sin from your heart ; make Him your standard, and In good aud ill leave casuists on the shelf, He never errs who sacrifices self. — H. Elwyn Thomas, Pulpit Talks to Young People, p. 94. THE PATIENCE OF MARGARET HOPE Psalm xci. When cholera came the second time to this country, a poor young lass in a Scottish village was beginning to learn the greatness of God's love for His people. But there was one thing she saw caused her to fall into great trouble of soul. She saw that the terrible sick- ness made no difference between the good and the bad. It even sometimes passed the doors of people notorious for their evil lives and entered those of the best-living servants of God. She would not have been surprised if any night the sickness had come to herself She had not yet learned to think of herself as one whom Jesus loved. What troubled her was that the sickness fell on homes which she had all her days looked upon as protected by His love. Her trouble took its rise in the ninety-first Psalm, the Psalm which the tempter quoted when he wanted the Saviour to cast Himself down from a pinnacle of the temple. In that Psalm, when a little girl at school, she had learnt by heart these words : — No plague shall near thy dwelling come, No ill shall thee befall ; For thee to keep in all thy ways His angels charge He shall. And through all the years which had gone over her since, she had believed that these words were a pro- mise which the faithful Saviour would be sure to ful- fil. Yet now a time had come to her native village in which fulfilment of this promise might be looked for ; and there was no fulfilment of it. She said to her soul : ' Soul, has God forgotten His promise ? Or, are those on whom the plague has fallen not His people? Or, are the words mere words and no promise ? Or, is it I who am ignorant and have not yet learned what they mean ? ' And her soul replied : ' Margaret, Margaret Hope, art thou not as yet a mere child in the Scriptures ; and dost thou dare to ask of its words, if they are mere words and no promise ? ' At that a great silence fell upon Margaret's soul. And she took up her Bible and the Psalm which had plunged her into trouble, and began to read, and think, and pray, and to sit like a child at the feet of God, until He should be pleased to give her the right undei-standing of the words. For fourteen days, almost day and night, taking little sleep, eating little food, her soul sat in this silence, in this search for God's meaning, at the feet of God. Do not smile at her, you who have had 291 PSALM XCl parents or teachers to tell you the meaning as you read : you who see the meaning all clear. She had no parent, no teacher, no help from man. She was in darkness and had to work her own way through the darkue.ss to the truth. But she bent herself with all her young strength and heart to find the truth. Verse by verse, word by word, poring over each, pray- ing over each, she read. It seemed .so plain, so clear : 'There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling,' that she was some- times in despair of ever seeing anything else in the words. Then she would read the Psalm from be- ginning to end : then she would compare it with other Psalms and other passages of Scripture. And still no light came to her. There was the promise — clear as a sunbeam : ' Neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling' ; and there, outside, at that very moment, was a real plague wrapping the dwellings of God's people round and round with the fog of death. At length, however, light began to dawn upon her, but in a strange, unlooked-for way. An assur- ance fell upon her soul and spread gently over it, that although she might never come to see the real meaning, the words were God's ; and, in His good time, if not here in this world, then in the next. He would make their meaning plain to her. And she was thanking God for this, and was about to close the Bible for the night and rest in what she had come to, when her eye caught the first words of the previous Psalm — the ninetieth — and in a moment the whole rich meaning of the nuiety-fii"st flashed into her soul and through and through her like a sudden burst of morning light. ' Lord, Thou hast been a dwelling-place in all generations.' Thou ! God Him- self This — not the house in the city, or the village, but God Himself — was the dwelling which no plague could enter, which no evil could touch. The great dark wall of her ignorance fell down. The Psalm which troubled her was a Psalm which set forth God as the dwelling-place and habitation of His people And the promise was to those who made Him their habitation. A great joy took hold of her, and a new deep trust in God. She was like one whom an angel has lifted nearer heaven. She felt that God was, indeed, a dweUing-place for His people ; and even, although at first in a timid way, that He would be a dwelling-place for her. Then, like a child to its mother, she went closer to God, taking refuge in His love and goodness, until at last she rose into all the joy of knowing and having God as the dwelling-place of her soul. But when God sends a joy like this into any soul, it is always because it has some work to do. It is like the food He gave to Elijah under the juniper- tree, in the strength of which the prophet had to go forty days and forty nights. And so it turned out with Margaret Hope. The pestilence did not touch !ier. But when that was beginning to be forgotten, it the end of five years from the time of her soul's trouble, a great trial fell on her. A disease almost worse than the pestilence laid hold of her face. And, first, one little bit of her lace and then another was eaten away, until at last the whole centre of her face was gone. Margaret could no longer go out of doore — except at night. The doctoi-s hung a patch of gi'een silk over her face, but it was so painful to look upon, that she had no choice but to shut herself up in her room. And she became a prisoner. Except far away over the roofs of the houses she never saw the green fields again, nor a flower, except when pity- ing friends brought her a posy from their gardens. Morning after mornin<; she rose to her weary task of winding pii-ns for the weavers in the village. A little girl came daily to do her few messages, and that was her outer life. But it was not her real life. Her real life was hid with Christ in God. Her real home also was in (iod. She never went back from the joy which she had learned from the two Psalms. Day by day she said to her soul : ' Soul, thou art not in an attic as I am, nor do thine eyes look forth from over a face all wasted with disease. Thou dwellest in mansions on high, in God Himself, and thine eyes behold the King in his beauty.' It was while Mar- garet was in the first stages of this trial that I first visited her I found her studying her Bible. And very soon I found myself listening with all my soul to what she had found in her Bible. She had a wonderful insight into the meaning of the Bible. And she had a still more wonderful belief in the reality of it. But her strongest, surest belief was this, that God was the habitation of His people, and that there no evil, nor plague, nor wasting of flesh, nor disfigurement of face could come. Circumstances led me to remove from that village to a distant city. And ten years went past before I saw Margaret again. And by that time a still heavier affliction had come to her. She was blind. As I went up the wooden stairs that led to her attic, I saw her door open, and her own form standing in the light. ' I knew it was you,' she said, ' I have not for- gotten your step ' I spoke of her blindness as a gi-eat calamity. But she said : ' There's no blindness in the house my soul lives in. No, no night there, you know.' ' But tell me, Margaret,' I said, ' tell me the very truth; is that word still a joy for you ? Do you not feel your blindness to be an evil ? ' She was knitting a worsted stocking as I spoke, and she stopped, laid her knitting things aside, and said : ' If I were always right myself, that word would never fail me. I did think my blindness a great trial when it came. And in my grief there was, as it were, a veil over my soul. And I did not see, and I did not feel that it was true in the way I used to feel, that no evil can come nigh the dwelling. But that was only for a little time. I came back to my faith in God. And He brought me back to my vision of love £ind goodness in Him.' As she was speaking a mavis began to sing on a tree outside. ' Do you hear that ? ' she said eagerly. 'That is a joy I never fully knew till I became blind. The mavis, and the blackbird, and the lark, 292 PSALM XCI Ver. 13. and the redbreast, av, and the very sparrows, have been sent into my darkness by God to cheer nie. And in their different seasons they sing to nie morn- ing and evening, and all the day long. Oh, I have many joys. I think I see God better since I became blind. It is a dark world, no doubt, I live in ; and to me who cannot go out at all now, it seems some- times very dark. But dark though it be, I aye see a throne in the midst of it, and my Saviour sitting on it for me. And I hear the song of the four-and- twenty elders, and the tbui' living ones and the angels saying, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain ".' I rose to leave, and as I did so I said : ' Well, Margaret, one thing I see, that the good Lord is per- fecting patience in you. And you are, no doubt, learning obedience as the Lord did by the things you suffer.' ' Do not say that, sir,' was her reply. ' My patience at its best is but impatience beside Christ's. And sometimes I am very iuipatient. My face and my eyes pain me, and I am often sick. And in these times I am a cross to everybody who comes near me. And at these times the light goes out of my soul, and the vision of my home in God becomes dim. And I say to myself, " Oh, Margaret, Margaret, thou art fallen now from thy dwelling on high, and thy place of refuge is no longer the heart of God, and thou art back to thy miserable attic, and to thy blindness, and to thy face that cannot be seen ". But God is very kind to me. He ever comes near to me, and gives me grace to repent. And He hides me in His taber- nacle as before, and says to me: "Thine eyes shall see the King in His beauty again ". And I am j ust waiting His time, when He shall lift me out of the attic to Himself, into His own presence, from which by temper, or sickness, or sin, I shall no more go out.' I was drawing my hand away to leave ; but she grasped it tightly, and said : ' Do not leave me. You have only been an hour. What is an hour in ten years ? And to one that nearly all these years has been blind ? ' She held me for some time longer. And still she talked about the ways of God. Meantime a shower of rain began to fall, and we could hear its gentle pattering on the slates. Then she let me go. Then her voice grew very tender as if she were praying, and she said : ' May the eternal God be thy refuge for ever. No evil shall befall thee there, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.' I never saw her again. But to this day when I hear the rain pattering on the slates I seem to be back in her lonesome attic, and to feel the clasp of her feeble hand. And a voice rises within me like the voice of a soul in prayer, and I hear once more the words : ' May the eternal God be thy refuge for ever. No evil shall befall tliee there, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.' — A. Macleod, The Oentle Heart, p. 1-tL' FIQHTINQ DRAGONS ' Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder : the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.' — Psalm XCI. 13. Introductory. — Meaning of text (cf ver. 9). Strength comes to those who trust God, so that they need fear no enemy. E.g. Lions ; cf Daniel. [7i- lustrative anecdote. — Church in London. Lion sermon, preached every year. Man once on voyage, landed, found himself lace to face with huge lion — no weapons, only prayer — lion walked away — so left money that his deliverance might be remembered every year.] The strength to do such things not ours, only, through faith, we lay hold on God's strength. [Illustration. — Old story of giant Geryon the ' earth-born '. Hercules fought with him, but could not conquer, for he gained more streiigth by touching the ground. At last lifted him off the ground — then weak and soon killed. So wo, our strength comes by touching God, cf. ver. 1.] But : — I. What is it to Fight Dragons ? — Picture out story in Genesis iii. ; cf. Revelation xil 9-1 L Who else had to face the same enemy and conquered him ? [Illustrate from Matthew iv. 1-11.] So at baptism, what the first part of our promise ? ' Renounce, etc. '. [Picture out a baptism in old time — person to be baptized first turned to the west — the cave of darkness — and said ' I renounce thee, Satan ' — then to the east, the home of light, and le- cited creed.] So the great Dragon we have to fight is — ? and we may conquer by making God our refuge. II. A Qirl who Conquered the Dragon. — Often see picture or representation of St. George and the Dragon. Sometimes, too, picture of a woman stand- ing over a dragon whom she has killed. Find her name in Prayer Book [see calendar, 20th July]. Margaret lived at Antioch in Pisidia — where Paul preached, Acts xiii. 14 — more than two hundred years after Paul (278 a.d.). The moon worshipped there as a man, and other false gods, but not as they used to be before Christ. Rulers determined to make people worship them. Picture scene. Magistrate (Olybrius), soldiers, altar, idols. People brought up — incense ready — enough to put some incense on altar before the idol — sign they worshipped it. One young girl, Margaret, bi-ought up before the Prefect, refused to sprinkle incense, said, ' I am a Christian ' — told them to do their worst — ' tried by shame and torture,' would not yield. Like Stephen, saw one at hand to help her — so killed, not conquered, but con- quering. When children — perhaps girls — say ' so small and weak, can't conquer Satan ' — think what this girl did ! How ? So we, ' all things through Christ who strengthens us '. Even a girl like St. Margaret may ' trample the dragon under feet '. HI. Some of our Special Dragons. — Not always same appearance to all — the gi'eat dragon has many children. E.g. Ill-temper, who hides in the cave called 293 Ver. 13. PSALM XCI Ver. 13. ' sulkiness '. Unkindness, who lives near the cave 'cruelty'. Indolence (sloth), etc. [Apply practic- ally from every-day experience. E.g. boy at dinner — more and more and more — the dragon ' greediness ' — must fight him — trample upon him.] Every day plenty of opportunities — all temptations to evil are dragons in disguise. Remember then to be on the watch, ready to fight when the moment comes. If, by prayer, we make the Lord our refuge, we too may ' trample the dragon under feet '. Note. — The story of St. Margaret may also be used in connection with Matthew xiii. 46 (' one pearl of great price ') which has sometimes been interpreted of the human soul, which Christ, the merchantman, seeks and buys. Sketch thus : — Introduction. — A girl once called Margaret — why should parents have given her that name ? Perhaps only because it sounded pretty, or perhaps because the lassie looked so pure and lovely that they thought no name could suit her better — for Margaret, in their language, meant ' a pearl '. Did they remember how pearls are made ? (explain). Beauty and worth won through suffering ! Anyway, she earned the name [narrate her story]. Never more beautiful — more pearl-like — than when she conquered death by dying — ' a pearl of great price ' such as our Lord loves. And if she is a model of what we may be — con- querors in spite of weakness — so we may learn, too, as perhaps she did, something from thinking about the pearl which she was called after. Think : — 1. Pearls are small. Some very small — none very large — like children, babies and upwards. Some, perhaps, like black pearls — (query, ' boys ") — not so beautiful, but may be more valuable. For, though small, 2. Pearls are valuable. So children — ' Oh, but I am not ' — ask your mother what she thinks. And every one is valuable ; ask the Father of us all in heaven — what did He give for us ? The price paid shows the value. Ought to be careful of that for which He has paid so highly. For, 3. Pearls are easily tarnished, and when tar- nished hard to clean. How hard to regain one's character when once lost ! Who can cleanse ? [Holy Spirit ' sanctifying ' — like cleansing tarnished pearls.] Lastly, 4t. Pearls beautiful in themselves, look best when they are set beautifully. What the right setting for us ? Is it not the righteousness of Chiist ? Sum up and apply. — C. A. GooDHART, Hints and Outlines for Children's Services, p. 144. THE YOUNQ LION AND THE DRAQON ' Thou shalt go upon the lion and adder : the young lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy feet. ' — Psalm xci. 13. I. What kind of temptations come upon us like a lion ? Why, all such as would stir us up to disobedi- ence, or to anger or hatred ; all such as seem to assault us first of all from without. Some one is un- kind, or we think so ; some one speaks harshly, or we think so ; and then, instead of remembering by whose name we are called, by the Name of Him ' Who, when He was reviled, reviled not again ; when He suffered. He threatened not ; of Him Who when He was accused of many things, answered never a word, insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly — we work ourselves up into a passion, call hard names, try to hurt those that have hurt us, sometimes are quite earned away by the violence of our passion ; so that we scarcely know what we are doing any more than if we were really and truly mad. That is the tempta- tion coming upon us like a lion. And I will tell you another way in which it comes like a lion ; when we have done something wrong, or have had some un- fortunate accident, and a great terrible fear falls upon us, and so we are tempted to deny it ; and so we tell one lie to begin with, and almost always two or three more to prevent that fii'st lie from being found out. This temptation, too, comes upon us like a lion, and, if we are not very, very careful, may cany us off at once. ' Thou shalt go upon the lion,' is the promise ; that is. Thou shalt be able to conquer such fierce sti'ong temptations that leap down on you all of a sudden, and come upon you from without. II. Then what is meant by ' the adder ' ? Why, those temptations which creep quietly into our hearts, one can hardly tell how, and are only known to our- selves, and go on poisoning, poisoning, till at last, unless God's great mercy save us, they destroy us just as surely as those other lion-like attacks of Satan. What kind do I mean ? Why, such thoughts as those of pride and conceit that lie deep down in our minds, which we should be very much afraid to tell to anyone, but which we ourselves take great pleasure in. As anyone of you might be tempted to think that she was cleverer, or prettier, or a greater fa- vourite than others ; and instead, if it be so indeed, of asking, as St. Paul does, ' What hast thou that thou has not received ? ' should be apt to fancy that it is her own powere or goodness which have got these things for her. That is a very poisonous adder. But I will tell you of one still more poisonous ; and that is, when we allow impure thoughts, not only to come into our minds, but to stay there, and instead of hunting them out at once, take pleasure in them. Remember this, any wicked thought may come into the mind of any servant of God, even of a Saint : that he cannot help. Evil spirits have the power of whispering them to us, and we can no more help that than we can help hearing a wicked word, or an oath, as we go by in the streets. So that never should make anyone unhappy. The sin does not begin till we allow it to remain there, encourage it to stop, ask it to come again. And my children, any of you who so fall into temptation are in great danger indeed. Yes, Satan is very dangerous when he comes as a lion ; but nmch more dangerous when he comes as an adder. For the outward show of passion and anger, people generally get over as they grow up. I have seen a 294 Ver. 13. PSALMS XCL, XCII Vv. 12-14. child, in a fit of passion, throw itself on the floor and bite the carpet with its teeth ; but no man or woman would do so except a savage. The anger is, very likely, just as deep down in their hearts. Nay, perhaps they may feel more malice and hatred, but they get a certain sort of mastery over their outward actions, because they know that they would not be thought fit to live in the society of men if they did not. But the adder-temptations of Satan, to pride, vanity, selfishness, impurity ; these are just as bad in grown- up persons as in children ; and often very much worse. The first part of the ver.se was, ' Thou shalt go &pon the lion and adder ' : then why does it go on, 'the young lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy feet ' ? For this reason : all temptations are not equally strong. And so you might say, God's grace can help me through little temptations : but now, when I go out into the world, and meet with great ones ? Why, it will be just the same thing then. ' The lion and the adder ' : these are bad enough, but they are not so bad as ' the young lion ' — that is, the lion in the chiefest of his strength — ' and the dragon '. A lion can leap on you and tear you in pieces, but he cannot poison ; an adder can poison, but he cannot tear and rend : but a dragon can tear, and rend, and poison all at once : and besides, has wings to enable nim to fly, and a tail with a cruel sting. So he is put last, as the worst of all. But however bad, however terrible Satan's temptations are, God's power is far greater ; and therefore it says, ' The young lion and the dragon shalt thou' — not only conquer, but — ' tread under thy feet '. A few days ago I was at Dratford, m Kent, where there are great gunpowder mills. Here they make vast quantities of gunpowder, and store it up in barrels. But the making it is very dangerous, because if the least spark were to get among the materials, the vvhole building, and every house near it, would be blown to pieces. When you go to see it, you first find a bare piece of ground all round the building itself — no shrubs or trees — to prevent any possibility of their being set on fire in a dry summer. Then you knock at a very strong gate, and enter a long stone passage, side and roof stone also. Then you are ex- amined to see if you have any matches or steel, that might strike fire ; your shoes are taken off, lest the nails in them should strike light ; your coat, if it has steel buttons, is taken off ; and so you are led through the great cold halls where these men sit grinding nitre, and saltpetre, and charcoal together. Do what they can, it is very dangerous work, and the men are paid very high. I remember once, while sitting at home in a house about twelve miles from these mills, hear- ing the windows violently shaken, and feeling the whole house tremble. The mills had blown up, and every soul in them perished. Well, then, if so much care is taken, and most rightly, that no accident should happen here, how careful ought we to be, seeing there is so much gun- powder of corruption in our minds, not to let any spark of temptation, if we can help it, be set to it ! Think of this when next time you say, 'And lead us not into temptation '. — J. M. Neale, Sermons for Chil- dren (2nd edition) p. 181. HOW TO BEGIN THE DAY ' It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto Thy name, O most High : to show forth Thy loving-kindness in the morning, and Thy faithfulness every night.' — Psalm xcii. i, 2. Yes, it is a good thing ; you may not be able to know at the time why, yet it is a good thing — good for you, and good for everybody round you — to begin and end the day with God. It is good in the morning — for it gives us the right keynote for the day. You are singers — very nice singers, too, some of you — and you know something about music. Do you know what flattening means ? It is like this : some- times, when people are singing, they forget what the right sound should be, and all their notes get lower and lower, for the one has to push the other down so as to make it keep its proper distance ; and the worst of it is, the singer has no idea of how far he has gone wrong till he hears the keynote struck : then he knows ! That is just the way with people who try to get on without God ; without thinking of Him in the morning, without praying to Him, or reading a bit of His Word. The music of their life keeps going down and down — it flattens ; and the worst of it is, they don't know it. Others observe it ; people round them can tell it, but they can't themselves, for they don't listen for the keynote. Be you wiser ; make sure of this — that it is a good thing to begin vrith God in the morning. That will help you to keep your heart high and right all through the day. And it is a good thing to end the day with God. You are going to forget Him, and forget everybody for a little, while you sleep. But He is not going to forget you ; it would be a bad, bad thing for you if He did He is going to watch over you in the night, just as ISe did through the day. Think of that ! God standing like a faithful sentinel to protect you when you cannot protect yourself I Will you go to sleep without thanking Him ? without thinking of Him ? without one loving word for Him ? That's not good, not kind ; and nobody can grow up right, or strong, or wise, or loving who does that. So end the day as you begin it, by having a little time alone with God, and though you may not be able now to know why, by and by, when you grow up, when you know things better and see them clearer, you too will say— and say it, oh ! with such a glad and grateful heart : ' It was good for me to begin and end all my days with God ! ' — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Preacher, p. 207. THE PALM-TREE iThe righteous shall flourish like the palm-tree ; those that be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God ; they shall still bring forth fruit in old age ; they shall be fat and flourishing.' — Psalm xcii. 12-14. Among the trees of Palestine the palm, or date-palm, was one of the chief, though it is now as rare there as 295 Vv. 12-14. PSALM XCIl Vv. 12-14. the rigliteous man whose image it is. In David's day it towered to some one hundred feet, the prince of green things, excelling all other plants in beauty and fruitfulness. The Romans used it as a symbol of conquered Judea, and the Crusader monk was called a holy ' palmer ' because he returned bearing a palm branch. It was often planted in the enclosures of palaces and churches, and it probably flourished in the Temple courts in the Psalmist's time. Or perhaps when he wrote our text he had in his eye the palm- trees that adorned the doors and walls of the Temple. We shall now sit down for a few minutes under the shadow of David's palm. May its fruit be sweeter to us than any that ever grew on a tree of wood. A young Christian, planted in the favoured soil, and within the sheltering fence of the Church, is like the palm flourishing in the courts of the Temple. As that palm is the tree of trees, the best at its very best, so he should become the man of men, she of women the most graceful. This palm-tree shall be our teacher as we examine — I. Its roots. II. Its growth. III. Its gracefulness. IV. Its fruits. I. The Roots. — An Indian missionary tells that near his new home he found a splendid palm-grove in the burning desert. It was a miracle of life amid death. Digging down some forty feet, he came to the roots and abundance of cool water, and the mystery was explained. The tree at that end was all mouth, and was sucking in, night and day, the water leaning on its surface. Its thousands of root- hairs and root-fibres were each opening and shutting like the mouth of a fish, or the lips of a panting animal. Driven by thirst and the fear of perishing through the burning sands and beyond the sun's scorching rays, its life was the life of emptiness draw- ing upon the exliaustless fulness of hidden springs — a fitting picture of a Christian in a heathen land. But a Christian child in a Christian family is like the palm planted by God's hand in the holy soil, and amid the genial sunshine of the sanctuary. You must have a root of your ow7i. Your father cannot act for you here. Your mother cannot give your heart to the Saviour. Your own spirit must take hold of Christ, and cleave to Him, and draw sap and fulness from Him ; being ' rooted in Him,' ' being rooted and grounded in love '. And your roots should strike deep. You must send down" little rootlets of thought, feeling, faith, and prayer. As the secret of the palm's life is hidden moisture, so your life is hid with Christ in God. Have a care that your roots are buried far out of sight, where no eye of man can see them. And be like the palm, the thirstiest of plants, always receiving the ' water of life '. II. Its Growth. — The life-blood of the tree is the sap which the gi-eedy roots draw from the soil, and which the leaves change into food. Without sap the tree is only wood, and that wood rottenness, which breaks oft' like a mushroom at the first touch. But God's palm-trees are 'fat and flourishing'; they flourish without because they are fat within. The Word of God is the sap which, by faith and prayer, is turned into the life-blood of your soul. As new- born babes you are to desire the unmixed Word of God, that you may gi-ow thereby. The Greek word for wisdom was borrowed from the sap of a tree : their wise man was the sappy man. Heavenly wisdom does for the soul what the sap does for the tree. But the formalist has no inner life, and resembles the Christian as sapless timber resembles the living tree. The palm-tree is a splendid grower because it is a great receiver. Every hour, through its every pore, it is receiving something from earth, and sea, and sky. Its every leaf has myriads of mouths with which it receives the gifts of God's bounty. And the soul's growth is always measured by its power of receiving. The heait that lies open on every side to receive the grace of God shall flourish like the palm-tree. The palm belongs to the class called inside- growers. By increase at the heart it grows from within outwards ; it grows heavenwards, all around, and always. Though marks of growth may not appear on the outside, it is always gathering fresh strength at the core and carrying it to every pait. And how silently and steadily it grows ! How blessed we should be if we grew in grace as the palm grows in stature ! II. The Gracefulness of the Palm. — The Easterns have a passionate love of the palm, whose beauty makes them glad. The Jews often give its name, Tamar, to women (Gen. xxxviii. 6 ; 2 Sam. xiii. 11) ; and their poets often compared their brides to it. ' This thy stature is like the palm ' (Song of Sol. vi/. 7). Solomon could find nothing more graceful with which to adom the Temple. With the Jews the palm-tj:ee was the favourite image of perfect and manifold beauty. Our text thus teaches that to be full of grace is to have the highest beauty. We admit this every time we use the word gracefulness. The beauty of the palm is increased by con- trast.— This evergreen prince of the vegetable world towers above the stunted heath and the yellow shrivelled grass, preserving its freshness when all around decays and withers under the intolerable sun. Many a time David shows us by contrast the beauty of the godly life. Thus in the first Psalm he places two pictures side by side. The godly man is like the tree growing on the river-bank, and the ungodly is like the sapless chafF which the wind drives to and fro. Have you ever thought how small, mean, and ugly is the life of the godless ; and how rich and beautiful is the life of a true Christian ? Look on this picture and on that, and make your choice. The palm has also the beauty of perfect straight- ness. — There it rises like a tall mast, without a leaf except at the top, which, like a gi'aceful parasol, shelters its fruit from the scorching sun. It thus off'ers no handle by which the whirlwinds could seize and overturn it. It could not live if it did not sacrifice Ver. 12. PSALM XCIV Ver. 12. everything- to its upward growth. Grace should take away from you every false and crooked thing, and teach you to abhor all by-paths, low cunning, and untruthfulness. Under temptation conscience should call forth in you a noble resistance, which would make you lean the other way. You are no child of God if you are not simple, sincere, and straightforward. And the palm, is an evergreen, and its green is always exquisitely fresh. — When all else is yellow and sad, its leaves are not discoloured by the sand of the desert or the scorching sun. It has somehow a self-purifying virtue by which it manages to throw off every taint, and to remain always the same. And as it brings forth fruit, so it retains its beauty in old age, defying the ravages of time. Its lifetime is all youth, its year ail spring. The saying, 'a green old age,' is probably borrowed from this verse. The life of body and mind must gi'ow less in old age, but the life of your soul need not. God does not mean your inner man to decay along with your outer. If your roots are sunk into God's grace and truth, you may flourish in old age like the evergreen palm-tree. IV. Its Fruits. — ^ Without fruit a tree is little better than a log. All God does for the tree points to fruit. He has weighed and balanced the whole mass of the earth, some one has said, that the tree might be fruitful. The tree pours its heart and life into the fnait, which draws something from every root, and leaf, and branch, from every dew of heaven and every ray of sunshine, Irom every changing wind and wan- dering cloud. And such is the origin of the good deeds without which a human life is like the barren fig-tree which Christ condemned. Plainly David does not expect his palm-tree to be planted in old age, but in youth ; for the old age of those he likens to the palm-tree lies in the far-off future. Old trees do not usually bear transplanting. Their uprooting is a terrible wrench, and they seldom take well in the new soil, nor do they bring forth fruit to perfection. The forester chooses his saplings from the nursery. The best nurslings of heaven are those that be planted early in the house of the Lord. They 'shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age ; they shall be fat and flourishing.' Make sure that you are among them. — .James Wells, Bible Images, p. 171. THE BLESSINGS OF TROUBLE 'Blessed is the man whom Thou chastenest'. — Psalm xciv. 12. I WISH to speak of three ways in which Jesus makes trouble or chastisement a blessing to His people. I. The ^rs< way in which Jesus makes trouble a bless- ing to His people is by Saving' them from Danger by it — One reason why we find it so hard to believe, when trouble comes upon us, that God intends it to do us good, and be a blessing, is that we can't see how it is to be so. We almost always have to wait awhile before this can be seen ; but as soon as we find out what God intends any trial to do for us, we see that it was a real blessing. A merchant was one day retm'ning from market on horseback. His saddle-bags were filled with money which he had got for what he had been selling. Soon after he started it began to rain. It rained very hard, and he soon got wet through. This vexed him very much, and he went on murmuiing to him- self that God had sent him such bad weather for his journey. Pretty soon he reached the border of a thick piece of woods. Just as he was going into the woods he was very much alarmed to see a robber standing by the side of the road with a gun in his hand. As soon as he came up to him, the robber levelled his gun, took aim, and pulled the trigger, but it didn't go off. The same rain which had wet him through had made the robber's powder so damp that it wouldn't fire. And before he could prime his gun again the merchant had put spurs to his horse and escaped. As soon as he found that he was safe, he said to himself: 'How wrong it was for me to murmur against the rain I I thought it was a great trouble to have it ; but now I see God sent it to be a blessing. If it had not been for that rain, I should have lost my life and property.' Some years ago an American man-of-war was lying at anchor in the Bay of Naples. The commander had his son with him on board. He was a little fellow of eight or nine years old — a very bright, smart boy, and a great pet with all the oflicers and crew. He was very fond of climbing up the rigging, and would sometimes venture farther than it was safe for him to go. One day, while his father was in the cabin taking a nap after dinner, he was playing on deck. No one seemed to be noticing him, and he thought he would go up the rigging of the main-mast and see how far he could climb. He got up to the cross-trees. Then he went to the top-gallant-mast ; and then to the royal yards. That was the highest yard or cross-piece belonging to the main-mast. There he rested awhile. Then he swamied up the mast, and got on to what the sailors call ' the main- tnick '. This is the circular piece of wood that is at the very top of the mast. How he did it I cannot imagine ; but by some means or other he managed to get up and stand erect on that little piece of wood, at that giddy, dangerous height. He enjoyed his lofty position for a while ; but when he thought of getting down he began to feel ti'oubled. And now the officers and sailors on deck saw him, and were greatly distressed. They trembled to think of the danger their favourite was in. They ran about the deck in great excitement. No one knew what to do. If he stooped to get down he would be sure to fall. If they attempted to go to him their weight would sway the trembling mast and shake him off, and he would be dashed to pieces. In the midst of this excitement his father came on deck. He saw at a glance the peril of his darling boy. He knew there was but one thing to save him. He nished into the cabin and seized a loaded gun in one hand and a speaking-trumpet in the other. The little fellow was trembling, and losing his presence of mind. Every one feared each moment to see his mangled body fall 297 Ver. 12. PSALMS XCIV., XCVIII Ver. 4. to the deck. But now the commander has returned. He stands on the quarter-deck. He lifts the speak- ing-trumpet to his mouth, and in a clear, ringing voice, cries out, ' Jump into the water, or I'll shoot you ! ' The little fellow stoops down to gather up his strength. He gives a spring out into the air to clear the deck of the ship, and then like an arrow he goes diving down into the calm, clear water of the bay. As quick as lightning a dozen or twenty sailors plunge in after him. Soon he is safe on deck, and the tears flow down his father's weather-beaten cheeks like rain, as he presses his dear boy to his bosom, snatched from such a dreadful death. It seemed like a cruel thing in that father to threaten to shoot his boy. But it was not so. It was the kindest thing he ever did for him. It saved him from a terrible death. Nothing but that jump could have saved him. His father knew this when he drove him to it. And so God often sends trouble to drive His people away from things that will harm them. The first way in which He makes trouble a blessing to His people, is hy saving theinn from Banger. II. The second way in which He does this is By Fitting them for Usefulness. — Hardly anything can be made useful without trouble. Suppose you had a piece of golden ore from one of the mines in Cali- fornia. Well, you examine it, and see that there are pieces of gold here and there in it, which make it very valuable. But they are all mixed up with earth unA rocks in such a way that nothing can be done with it. Before you can make any use of it you must break it into pieces and put it in the furnace, ;ind raise a great fire over it, till the gold melts and runs out from the dross. Then you get the pure gold by itself, and can employ it for any useful pur- pose that you wish. There is a sheaf of grain from the hai-vest field. It is very valuable ; but in its present state it can't be used for any good purpose. It must be thrashed to separate it from the ear. Then it must be fanned, or winnowed, to separate it from the chaff. And then it must be taken to the mill and ground into flour before it is fit for use. And Christians are like gold in the ore. The good in them is mixed up with dross. God has to use the hammer and the fire of trouble or affliction upon them to melt the gold in them and separate it from the dross. Christians are like the grain in the ear. God has to thrash them and winnow them and grind them before they are fit for the purpose for which He ■wants to use them. And He makes use of trouble to do this. III. The third way in which God makes trouble a blessing to His people, is By Leading them to true Happiness. — When summer comes among the Alps, in Switzerland, the shepherds lead their flocks far up the sides of the mountains, where the best pasture can be found. If they stay down on the plains and in the valleys the pasture will fail, and they will have nothing to eat. But away up the mountains there is plenty of good pasture. One summer a shepherd was driving his flock up towards those pleasant pastures. But there was one place in the road which he could not get the sheep to go past. There was a narrow chasm or opening right across the path, and when they came to the edge of it, instead of leaping over, as he wanted them to do, they would turn round, and scamper away in another direction. He tried several times to get them past that place, but in vain. At last he took up in his arms a little Iamb belonging to one of his sheep. The mother sheep, or dam, watched him closely to see what he was going to do with it. Instead of driving his flock from behind them, he now went on before them, carrying the lamb in his arms. He crossed over the chasm in the path, and went straight on, up the side of the mountain. The mother followed after the shepherd who had her lamb in his arms. She leaped across the opening and kept close to the shepherd. The other sheep followed her, one after another, till pretty soon the whole flock were going up the mountain after the shepherd, to the place where the good pastures were to which he desired to lead them. And God deals with His people in just the same way. He calls to them in His word and by His ministers to become Christians, and walk in the narrow way which will lead them up the heavenly mountain to the good pastures in which He would have them feed for ever. But like the sheep just spoken of, they turn aside and wander off in the wrong direction. Then God sends trouble upon them, and takes away their children or other blessings from them, till at last, like the sheep whose lamb was taken from her side, they follow Him in the path up which He desires to lead them. — Richaed NEvn:oN, Bible Blessings, p. 89. THE EAR.QATE 'He that planteth the ear, shall He not hear.' — Psalm XCVIII. 4. Away in Denmark there is an old castle called Kron- berg, close by the Sound of Elsinore. Beneath this castle is a dark, tremendous cavern with the deep boom of the waves ever echoing within its rocky walls. And there inside, the Danish legend tells us, sits Holgar the Dane, sunk in deepest sleep. But in his dreams he hears above the distant thunder of the waves all the sounds that rise in the world without. From its lightest whisper to its loudest noise, he hears all in that dark cavern sunk in the hill. So in your ear and mine there is a dark chamber, not vast like the cave bv Elsinore, but small as a cherry stone, and there is another Holgar, not dreaming, but all alert. And, as to Holgar, there come to it in the darkness of its strange abode the voices and the noise of the world around us. What a wonderful chamber it is ! Surely it is the most wonderful in all the world. It is there we hear the music of the birds and the streams and the trees, it is there we hear the 298 Ver. 4. PSALMS XCVIII., CI II Ver. 2. great roll of the thunder that comes crashing on our ear from the distant heavens, it is there we hear the gentle voices we love to hear and to obey. We gener- ally speak of these things as if we heard them outside of us ; but it is not so. It is all heard in that dark little chamber within the head. Is it any wonder that we should call this one of the most extraordinary chambers in the world when such strange things can go on in it ? Surely we ought to pity with all our hearts those who cannot hear, for what a world of joy and interest they have lost ! The little chamber may have its forlorn spirit within, waiting so anxiously for some mes.sage from the outer world ; but it never comes, for all the doors have been shut, the connections all broken, and in a profound stillness that must be most painful to bear, the soul sits patiently waiting till the long silence is broken by the voice of God Himself There are many lessons we can draw from this gatewa}' of knowledge. We can apply to the ear the teaching we got from the eye. I. Use your Ears. — Just as there is seeing and seeing, so there is hearing and hearing. How often do we come across the expression used about some- body that what they hear goes in at one ear and out at the other ! I would rather say, it goes in at the porch and may get the length of the outer lobby but it is never really taken into the house, into the ear itself Boys and girls who answer to this description hear things but they do not understand. The sound never gets inside the house to the inner chamber, and so the true meaning of what they hear is never really grasped. This is true of our daily lessons and it is true of our Sabbath hearing. We hear the sermon on Sabbath ; we let it into the inside lobby, but we do not take it right in, and so when Monday comes it has slipped out at the door again and is forgotten. The great lesson, therefore, for us to learn is, to take in what we hear, thoroughly ; to try and understand what it means, and then it is much more likely to remain inside as part of the furnishings of that inner chamber of the mind. II. Listen only to the Best. — That inner spirit of the ear has to receive all that comes to it ; it cannot help it, and it sends all the evil things that we hear, as well as the good, into the brain. And when sin gets in, it has a habit of staying in and spoiling everything else inside. Never, if you can help it, listen to anything bad, unkind or unclean. It is far easier to keep these things out than to turn them out once they are in. Remember, the ear can take in all the sounds of the world ; it cannot let out any. Let us be careful, then, to listen only to the best. This of course is not easy ; it is not always possible. We very often cannot help hearing things we would have been much better not to have heard, but the real harm is done, not so much in the hearing, as in the dwelling upon and remembering such things. This we can all help, and it ought to be our earnest en- deavour to put all such things resolutely away from us at once. There is a striking phrase of Luther, the great Reformer, that we should always keep in mind — ' I cannot help foul birds flying over my head,' he said, ' but I can t-.sily prevent them from building their nests in my hair '. He means that we cannot always help the evil things that are flying through the air, coming within our reach, but we can refrain from giving them a shelter and lodging in our own heart. A sinful world cannot but be full of evil suggestions. Let us see to it that we give them no encouragement, for as Luther hints they will only too readily take up their home with us and grow and multiply, till they have crowded out all the good we had in our heart. III. Then, remember the soldier's motto. To Hear is to Obey. — Is that true of us ? Are we always ready to obey when we hear the command to do something ? No one can ever forget that story of little Henry Havelock, how his father left him one day at twelve o'clock on London Bridge and told him to wait there until he came back for him. His father went away, and in the pressure of business forgot all about his little son until seven o'clock in the evening, when in the house of a friend he suddenly remembered his promise. He was sure he would find his boy, for he had been trained to obey. And there, sure enough, was little Henry just where his father left him, quite contented, and never doubting but that his father would come for him as he had said. That was a boy who heard and obeyed. Let us try to imitate him and be obedient to those who have a right to com- mand us. We all admire soldiers ; let us never forget that the first thing that makes a true soldier is, Obedience. IV. Once more. Never Forget to Listen for Qod's Voice. — Perhaps you did not know that God speaks to you, and that you can hear. You all have a con- science which tells you when you go wrong. That is just hearing the voice of God, and if you will only listen you will always hear Him speaking to you and telling you what to do. We have just seen how God spoke to St. Francis and gave him guidance in the great task of his life. And there was that ex- traordinary girl, Joan of Ai-c, who from her earliest days used to hear voices speaking to her from heaven. In obedience to these she finally left her quiet, humble home, and weak girl as she was, in obedience to the voice of God, she went forth at the head of a great army to free her country from the yoke of the op- pressor. Yes, God speaks if we will only listen, and to hear Him is surely to obey, for He calls us only to what is wisest and best. — J. IThomson, The Six Gates, p. 28. THE BAD MEMORY ' Forget not all His benefits.'— Psalm cm. 2. A STATESMAN of ancient Greece was once talking with a friend, when his fiiend said, O that some one would teach me to remember ! The statesman answered, Nay, rather teach me to forget. That was long cen- turies ago, but I think that to-day there is not one of us but would still be fain to learn that art of forgetting 299 Ver. 2. PSALM CIII Ver. 2. Some sight we have seen, some word we have spoken, some deed we have done, how much we would give if we could blot the memory of it out. Yet such are just the things we never do forget. Like wounds in the flesh they are burned into our memories. They sleep, it may be, but only to wake at unexpected moments, and to confront us when we wish it least. What we would fain forget we often best remember. What we would fain remember, is it not that we are most' ready to forget ? Ah, yes. The Fall has worked ruin in our memories, no less than in our hearts. Now I am sure of this, if there be one thing we might be expected to remember, it is God's loving- kindnesses. To the angels in heaven it must seem incredible that any here to-day should have forgotten the benefits of God. Yet of forgetting them we all are guilty. David made no mistake. He knew the temptation to forget, and you and I still know the same. Come then and let me speak to you a little on our forgetfulne.ss of the benefits of God. I. And first I wish to ask, why are we all so ready to forget them ? It is because we are so accustomed to them that our hearts ai-e hardened. Some one has said that if all the stai-s in heaven were to cease shining for a hundred years, and then were suddenly to flash out again, there would not be an eye in all the earth but would be raised heavenward, and not a heart in all the world but would break forth in hymns of praise to God. But the stars are shining every night. They were there when you were crooning in your cradles. They will be there when you are sleeping in your graves. And you and I are so accustomed to them, we never lift our heads and fret and cry and quarrel every night perhaps, forgetful of these shining remembrancers of God. So with God's benefits. Did they come rarely, singly, unexpectedly, how we should piize them. But they have been over us like the heavens, round us like the air, under us like the earth ever since we were born. And we are so ac- customed to them that our hearts are hardened. II. Now let me give you some simple hints for mastering this forgetfulness. I want you to have better memories for all God's benefits. And such you will have if you lay to heart these simple rules. 1. Strive to see God's hand in all that befalls you. — Strike out from your dictionaries such words as fate, misfortune, luck. Remember you are children of a King, not children of a chance. And honour God by seeing in everything some movement of your Father's hand. Among the old and dusty books that sleep on your father's shelves is one that you have never read yet. But when you grow a little older I trust you all will read it. For what Jesus said of the old wine is often true of the old books' — they are far better than the new. Well, this old book is called the Memoirs of Thomas Boston. And Thomas Boston lived some hundred years ago, and was one of those faithful ministers whom God gives from time to time as His best gifts to Scotland. And when you come to read these Memoirs of Thomas Boston I know what will arrest you first. It will be this. Whatever befell Boston, you are sure to find him on his knees asking God to reveal to him the meaning of the providence. Did his wife sicken, did his child die, was he detained from a Sacrament by snowstorms, did his horse cast a shoe, you will have Thomas Boston asking God to let him see the meaning of it. And very often God was pleased to do it. Till Boston grew to feel that in God he lived and moved and had his being, and that God was doing all things well. And till, instead of murmuring and fretting, he came to have a heart so full of praise and thankfulness and humble resig- nation that the fragrance of it breathes through Scotland yet. And why should not you hve to be like Thomas Boston ? What is to hinder you from keeping such a prayerful heart and such an open eye that you will be as quick to detect God as was Boston ? Then you will grow in gratitude. And he who grows in gratitude is growing in grace. 2. Again, go over your mercies in detail. — Begin and try and count them. And for the first time you will learn how deeply and how hopelessly you are in your Father's debt. There are some boy» here who are learning Latin. They will translate these words for us, Generalia non purgunt. They were framed by good men of long ago ; and they mean, a general confession of our sin will never purge the soul. We must go at it sin by sin. So we may say, Generalia non laudant, a general thankfulness never praises God. We must get to it benefit by benefit if we want to know what we owe God. David knew that. David did that. And never was there a man who better knew than noble David how to confess sin and how to remember benefits. He cried to his soul, 'Forget not all His benefits '. Then he began to number them, Who forgiveth all thine iniquities — one. Who healeth all thy diseases — two. Who i-edeem- eth thy life from destruction — three. Who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and with tender mercies — four. And so on through a whole Psalm. I wonder if you could sing a Psalm like that out of your own hearts to-day. Begin and try. For not till you do that, in your own words and way, will you ever waken to the thronging mercies wherewith God has engirdled you. 3. Do not forget that you have to meet God face to face. — Young people, you and the Giver of all good must yet stand face to face. And if God has given you health and strength, and sight and hearing, and parents and homes, and a thousand things besides, and you have forgotten them all and never thanked Him for them, I want to know how you will meet Him in that great day ? I heard of a girl who got a present from a young friend in Connecticut ; and she said, ' I can't be bothered acknowledging this, and after all it doe-sn't mattei- much, for I'll never likely see my friend again '. Did you ever do that ? But we're all doing that with God. We get His gifts and use them, and then we say in our hearts, ' Our God is very far away, why should I trouble to thank 300 Ver. 2. PSALM cm Ver. 2. Him?' Remember you must meet Him. Suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye you may be called. What will you do then if you have used God's gifts and never thanked Him? How can you hope to look on Jesus unashamed with your forgetful and ungrateful heai t ? 4. And if you would not forget God's benefit^, see that yow livein close coTnpanionship with the Lord Jesus Christ. — A gift is always a gift. But when a gift comes from one we love it has a double value in our eyes. It is the giver makes the gift precious. Your sister has a withered flower in her Bible. It is not worth a penny. But to her it is very dear, be- cause it was given by one who loved her. Your mother has loys and string and socks and boots lying in the drawer. They would not fetch ten shillings in the market. But she would not sell them for ten pounds, for they belonged to your little brother who died. All, how she loved him. And they were his, and so she loves them too. So wilh God's loving-kindnesses. Strive to take all out of the hand of Jesus. In every bite you eat, in every drop you drink, in all you have and all you get long to see Him Who love'^you and Who died for you on Calvary. — G. H. Moreison, The Oldest Trade in the World, p. 103. ON THE EVIL OF FORGETTING GOD ' Forget not all His benefits.' — Psalm cm. 2. I. In the Bil)le the most beautiful things are taken to describe the good that comes into a life that remembers God. But to describe the evil that comes upon a life that forjiets God, things the most terrible are used. Among these terrible things is a tempest. Our Lord, speaking of one who hears His sayings but forgets to do them, says : He is like a house on which ' the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat, and it fell, and great was the fall of it'. The old prophets also, telling of cities that had forgotten God, and of evil days coming on them in consequence of that, descriJbe these days as days of wind and tempest which shall smite and overthrow the cities, and at last leave them mere heaps of ruin. And in the chapter of Ecclesiastes, where young people are exhorted to remember their Creator in the days of their youth, the Preacher speaks of evil days sure to come if they fail to remember Him, days in which they shall say ' we have no pleasure in them '. These days, so evil that the soul can find no pleasure in them, are likened to days in which the heavens are filled with tempest, in which the tempest breaks upon the house, and the house is wrapped round with terror and desolation and death. As often as I read this chapter I seem to see the scene it describes. I see a fair mansion among stately trees, standing in beautiful grounds, and filled and sur- rounded with life and joy. The sun is shining. The doors are open to its light. The men are working in the fields. The maid-servants are crrinding the corn. The ladies are looking out at the open windows. Through these windows I see for the evening hours golden lamps hung on silver cords. In the court I see a deep well with wheel and bucket to supply the house with water. Everything is touched with life and joy. The swallows are shooting down from the eaves. The singing birds are filling the woods with song. It is a h^ippy time for that house, a day in which God is pouring out His mercies, a day to remember Him. But this is a house where God is not remembered. Those who live there receive His kindness and are unthankful. They take His gifts, but spend them on themselves. And days and veal's go past in which He is patient, waiting to see if they will even yet turn to Him. . And then come days in which things begin to change. The early joys do not return. And day comes after day, and no pleasure with them. At last comes a day of terror. The heavens are black with clouds. The clouds dis- solve in rain. More clouds overspread the sky, heavier, blacker than before. Lightnings flash ; thunders roll ; wind and rain beat upon the once beautiful house. The mastei's, bending beneath the blast, hurry in from the field. The door is shut. The ladies shrink back in terror from the windows. The maids flee from their grinding at the mill. Even the men-servants begin to tremble. Outside, the birds that made the air happy with song are either leaping and shrieking with fear or silent. On all inside fear descends ; they cannot eat ; death is coming upon them. The tempest snaps the cords on which the lamps are hanging ; breaks the very bucket that brings up water from the well It will soon be all over with that house. House, inhabitants, life, joy, industry — all are wrapped round about by the darkness, and about to be overwhelmed by the terrible tempest which has come crashing out of the sky from God. And all that tempest, with all the ruin it works, is the picture of the destruction that descends from heaven on every life that forgets God. II. One of the first stories I recall fi'om my child- hood was a story of the evil of forgetting God. I remember the very spot on which it was told to me. I feel the warm grasp of the hand which had hold of mine at the time. I see once more the little seaport town stretching up from the river mouth, with its straggling ' fisher town ' at one extremity, and at the other its rows of well-built streets and its town hall and academy. On this occasion we were standing on a high bank looking down on the beautiful shore at our feet. Across the tiny harbour, and along the shore on the other side of the river, is a very different scene. What one sees there is a dreary waste of sand. No grass grows there, no trees shadow it, no house stands upon it. It is a place for.saken and desolate. It has been a desolation longer than the oldest inhabitant can remember. But it was not always desolate. It was once a fair estate, rich in cornfields and orchards. A stately mansion stood in the midst of it, and children played in the orchards, 301 Ver. 2. PSALM cm Ver. 2. and reapers reaped the corn. But the lords of that fair estate were an evil race. They oppressed the poor, they despised religion, they did not remember God. They loved pleasure more than God, and the ])leasures they loved were evil. To make an open show of their evil ways they turned the day of the Lord into a day of rioting and drunkenness. And this evil went on a long while. It went on till the long-suffering of God came to an end. And then upon a Sunday evening, and in the harvest-time when the com was whitening for the reaper, the riot and wickedness had come to a height. The evil lord and his evil guests wei-e feasting in the hall of the splendid house. And on that very evening there came a sudden darkness and stillness into the heavens, and out of the darkness a wind, and out of the wind a tempest ; and, as if that tempest had been a living creature, it lifted the sand from the shore in great whirls and clouds, and filled the air with it, and dropped it down in blinding, suffocating showers on all those fields of corn, and on that mansion, and on the evildoers within. And the fair estate, with all its beautiful gardens and fields, became a wide-spread- ing heap of sand and a desolation, as it is to this day. That is the story, just as I heard it long years ago. Whether things happened in the very way the story tells, whether the story is real history or parable drawn from history, I have never got to know. Either way it tells the lesson, and gives forth the counsel which the old preacher does in the last chapter of Ecclesiastes. It tells of the evil of forgetting God. It makes plain to us that, sooner or later, to every life that will not remember God days come which bring no pleasure, days dark with the teiTor of God, when the heavens above grow black and the judgment of God breaks forth like a tempest, and everything beautiful and strong and happy in the life is overthrown, and desolation comes to house and health, and at last to life itself. III. I knew a lad once, who in five short years passed from days in which every day was a pleasure to days in which he had no pleasure. He passed, in that short space, out of a life on which the smile of God rested to one on which His tempest fell. Never a boy had a happier home or a better up- bringing. He had godly and loving parents. His mother taught him about Christ. His father gave him a good example. And from God he had splen- did health and an excellent mind. He had won many a prize at school. By and by it was time for him to go into business, and a fine place was found for him in Glasgow. Allan was blithe to leave his school tasks and his country home, and go down into the life of the citv, of which he had heard .so much. He did not think of the wicked tempters among whom his lot was to be cast, nor of the weakness of his own poor heart. But his father did. 'Remember your Creator, Allan,' the old man .said to him as he wrung his hands in parting. ' Oh, Allan, my son, keep the heart for Him.' The words did make an impression on the boy. Allan himself told me, years after, that they rung in his ears for a time, and everything on the road seemed to repeat them. It was a beautiful morning in spring when he left. The buds were glimmering on the hedges like little sparks of green light. The clouds were lying in great bars across the lower part of the heavens, and all flecked and fringed with pui-ple. The boy thought the clouds above and the hedges below took up his father's words, and said to him, ' Remember God '. The great-faced clock on the church steeple of the village where the coach stopped to change horses was point- ing to nine as the driver pulled up, and at that moment the bell struck out the hour. The very strokes of the bell seemed to ring out the words, ' Keep the heart, Allan, for God '. But by this time Allan's heart was reaching away towards the great city. The thought of the new life he was to lead, and the new pleasures he was to taste, drove out every other thought, and by and by even the impression and memory of his father's words. He could think of noth- ing but Glasgow and its life. And there, at last, it came into view. From the shoulder of the great hill over which the coach had to pass, he beheld it lying in the morning light. Its great chimneys, like trees of a forest for number, stood up, belching out smoke. On went the coach. The last halting-place was passed, then the bridge over the Clyde, then the long suburb between the bridge and the city, and then Allan was in Glasgow. Horses, carts, crowds, shops, noises of all kinds mixed and roared together. In a moment more the coach was empty, and the poor bov was standing alone on the busy pavement. Ah ! if from that moment he had cared to recall the words of his father, and to remember God, all might have gone well with him. But he let go the words. He did not care to have God in his thoughts. He did not care to have God ruling over him. ' I am a man now,' he said ; 'I can rule myself Not all at once — bad ways never come all at once — but bit by bit he let go all he had been taught at home — religion, prayer, purity, honesty itself Wicked, ungodly thoughts came into his heart, and he made them welcome. He made friendships with bad companions. He turned aside into evil ways. He began to frequent taverns and drink-saloons. He spent his nights in sin, and his days in neglect of duty. At the end of the fourth year he had lost his early fondness for the church and Bible, and he even began to think lightly of his parents and his home. Then began that darkening of the heavens which pre- cedes a storm. Then came day after day in which he had no pleasure. Clouds appeared on the face of his employer, serious looks on the faces of his father's friends. Then came warnings which he disregarded, advices which made him angry. Then came up — more terrible than all — from the depths of his own soul, mutterings of the anger of God. At last came the storm itself He lost the esteem of his employer. Then he lost his place. His health followed, and by and by his life. 302 Ver. 2. PSALM cm V'er. 2. Where the buds put out their green lights on the hedgerows to make the fifth spring since he left his home, he was lying very still under the sod in the muirland churchyard near where his father's cottage stood. People tell me that on quiet mornings, about the hour poor Allan left his home, they still hear the clouds whispering, ' Remember God,' and even the little buds on the hedges have been heard to repeat the words. But Allan will hear them nevermore. IV. While my mind was still filled with these recollections and visions of tempest, I happened to be in London, and went to see the Royal Academy. I saw there some pictures in which one of the ruins which that tempest works is described. And I do not think I could better describe the evil which comes into a fair young life by forgetting God than by telling the story which those pictures tell. A gentle youth has come up to the University. You can see by his open face and by his ruddy cheeks that he has come from a home that cares for him. There is a mother there who has watched over him and prayed for him all his days. But now he is away from her care, and among young men of his own age. For them and him it is the time to remember God. I dare say, if the letters his companions and he got in the morning could be read, we should find in more than one of them the words : ' O my beloved, remem- ber now thy Creator in the days of thy youth '. But neither this young man nor the companions he has taken up with are thinking of God. They are playing tard.s. It is midnight : one of their number, unused as yet to this life, has fallen asleep. The others are gambling. The young man whose sad story the painter has undertaken to paint is caught by this evil. He has forgotten father and mother, home and innocent days, class duty and lessons. What in- cludes all, he has forgotten God. In the second picture he is older, and there is not on his face the same glow of health and home life which we saw first. He is not at college now, nor where his college classes should have led him. He is at a place, the most evil for old or young, for rich or poor, for prince or peasant, to be. He is at a race- course. Coarse, brutish-looking, eager men are thrusting in their betting-books to him from the out- side crowd. He does not yet know all the evil of their evil ways. He does not see yet that they are cheats and rogues, who want him to gamble his riches into their pockets. Alas 1 for him. And alas ! for the dear mother who is praying for him. He has ex- changed the innocent joys of home, and pure delights of college, for the society of chaffV idlers, and the coarse pleasures of these red-faced, shabby, vulgar men. And he is falling into their evil traps. He is writing down their tempting bets. And in his blind- ness he does not see that the bets he is accepting shall one day make the heavens black above him, and bring down a storm upon his head. And too soon that storm begins to fall. In the third picture, when we next see^^him, several years have passed. He is married and in a house of his own. Beside him is a beautiful wife with two young children. He is in a room filled with beautiful things. If we could fix our eyes on the room only, or go out and wander about the beautiful grounds, we should say, ' Everything here has a look of peace and happi- ness'. But there is neither peace nor happiness in the soul of its master. Days have come to him now in which he has no pleasure. He will never- more have pleasure in all the days of his life that are to come. A terrible knowledge is in his soul. He has gambled away the last shilling he had. He has gambled away his beautiful home and the bread of his wife and children. He has gambled himself into debts which he will never be able to pay. And here, within the door of this beautiful room, darkening it by their shadow, between the poor young mother who cannot understand what has taken place, and the miserable father who understands too well, are two officers to take him away to prison. The tempest he has brought upon himself has burst out upon him. He gave his young life, his strong manhood, his love, his time, his money, to evil and to evil ways. He sowed the wind : he is reaping the whirlwind. It has swept joy and peace out of his life. It is about to sweep away his liberty : he must go to gaol. When he is lying in gaol, and in misery there, the same tempest will drive wife and children out of their beautiful home. Nothing will be left to them but shame and sorrow. Their life, like his, will be a ruin. In the closing picture, the last burst of the tempest has come upon him. He has got out of gaol, but everything beautiful in his Ufe has been destroyed. His whole life is a ruin. He is locking the door of the poor bedroom in which he sleeps. He bends eagerly to listen, turns the key gently lest his wife should hear. His baby's cradle is near, but it appeals to him in vain. A pistol is lying on the table. In another moment he will have destroyed his life with it ; and his very body shall be a ruin. — A. Macleod, The Gentle Heart, p. 187. GRATITUDE ' Non immemor beneficii.' ' Forget not all His benefits.' — Psalm cm. 2. This motto belongs to a family in Ireland which has as its 'coat of arms' a baboon carrying a baby. This strange figure has a story connected with it. It is said that long ago one of the family was away at the war, and had left his household in the charge of one or two old retainers and the women sei-vants. Suddenly there came an alarm of the enemy, and everybody fled, forgetful of the little baby, the heir of the house ; but a baboon, who was the pet of the family, noticed the omission, ran to the cradle, caught up the child, and carried him to the top of the abbey steeple, holding him out for the people to see. Great was the terror of the forgetful servants, but, happily, the animal carried the child safely to the ground again. When FitzGerald, the child's father, 303 Ver. 2. PSALM cm Ver. 15. returned, he was grateful to the dumb animal that had saved the fortunes of his house ; and was not ashamed to set the monkey in the centre of his shield of honour, and underneath to place the motto, ' Not unmindful of his kindness '. You notice how nearly these words correspond to the familiar ones of the 103rd Psalm. We are taught that we must not be forgetful of God's goodness, and that the best way to remind ourselves of it is to hold a clear recollection of the means whereby God helped us. I. There are some quaint customs in England that show how different generations hold in affection- ate remembrance the usages of an earlier time, because these remind them of the kindness of their benefactors. At Winchester School, for instance, the boys always prefer to use the simple, square platters of wood to plates of a finer and more ex- pensive kind, because the.se have been handed down from generation to generation, and were the only form of dish used at the time the college was founded. The boys thus feel them.selves in closer touch with the spirit and times of their founder. At Queen's College, Oxford, too, there are numerous quaint customs to keep the scholars in mind of those who in the old days founded that seat of learning, and gave their money to support all who should study within its walls. One of the famous standards of the world was that of Constantine the Great. It was in the form of a cross, and it is said that on the eve of one of his f!;reat battles the emperor saw this sion in heaven, with the words written over it, 'In this conquer,' and made a vow that if heaven granted him on that day the victory, he would always fight under the banner of the cross and subject himself to its sovereignty. Thus, you see, men glory in things quaint, or old, or even despised, if thereby they have been aided ; and are glad to take them for the token of honour and glory. They are not ashamed of them, because for those who wear or display them they have a sacred and joyful meaning. Now, we should learn a lesson from such customs, that not only is ingratitude disgraceful, but must bring with it its own punish- ment. II. I have read somewhere a fairy story that tells how once a traveller was wandering through a wood, when he came upon a clump of the little blue flowers that we call forget-me-nots. He bent over them surprised and delighted at their beauty, but wondered more when the little flowers began to speak to him. They told him that if he plucked a handful of them, and carried them on through the forest, they would di-sclose to him untold treasure. He eagerly snatched some of the blossoms and went hurriedly on his way. Presently he came to a rocky defile, and there right in front of him opened a doorway that led him to a cave filled with all manner of gold and precious stones. When he saw the wonderful treasure that was within his reach he rushed eagerly forward and threw away the now despised and seemingly worth- less flowers, but in a moment the doorway closed before his eyes and he had no spell wherewith to reopen it. Thus, was he taught the sin of ingratitude and the shame of selfishness. Now, God's good gifts are like the little flowers in the forest, strewn plenti- fully at our feet, and if we take them with loving hands and humble hearts, remembei ing the Good Giver, they will open to us ever new treasure-houses, and we shall become the richer in love, in friendship, and in what is best of all, the power to help. — G. CuKRiE Maetin, Great Mottoes with Great Lessons, p. 56. THE DAISY 'As a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.'— Psalm cm. 15. Flowers may bring sad thoughts or hajypy thoughts, and sometimes the sad thoughts change to happy ones as we go on thinking about them. When our Lord said, ' Consider the lilies,' He had a happy thought about the flowers. The Psalmist who wrote this Psalm had a sadder thought — ' Flowers soon fade, so man,' but the sad thought grew bright — 'Though man fade, God cannot fade — His mercy will always be sure to those who trust and fear Him.' We may take another thought from his words — a real flower of the field — what so common as the dai.sy I Let us see how men, how children, may be like the daisy and flourish as the daisy flourishes. I. The Name. — What does daisy mean? (Day's eye.) Fields, like the face of a living creature, but not only two eyes, full of little twinkling eyes, eyes which open when the day dawns and close at night as the day closes. Day's eyes. What makes the eyes open ? Light — sun rises and bright rays shoot out and kiss the little shut lids — they feel the kiss and open out beneath it. When the sun goes down and the light grows dim, the lids shut and the flowers sleep. 1. An example. Remember verse : — Early to bed and early to rise Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Might add : — And is good, too, for all little creatures with eyes. When bedtime comes and you want to stay up longer ; or getti?)g-up time comes and you want to stay in bed longer — remember daisy — never wants to keep eyes shut after light shines, or eyes open after sunset. 2. A parable. Not only eyes in our head — eyes in ourselves. [Illustration. — When we come to understand a thing, often say, ' I see it now '.] What sort of things should we keep these eyes open for ? Things which the light shows us. And who is the light of the world ? So, things which Jesus Christ shows us ; other things He does not care for us to know. If we want to be like the daisy, must keep eyes — hearts — open to the light. Look out for good things. When darkness comes and bad thoughts hover about, shut 304 Ver. 19. PSALM cm Ver. 19. the eyes — ' We are children of the Light and of the dav '. II. The Structure. — The daisy is, really, a whole family or school of little flowers bound up together. Look at yellow middle through a magnifying glass — each little yellow speck, a perfect flower, with five little yellow petals of its own ; more than a hundred of these tiny flowers all club together to make one flower more beautiful than any of them. We know proverb ' Union is strength ' [of fable of sticks and faggots], but also true that ' Union is beauty ' — perhaps when not ' beauty ' it may not be ' strength ' either. [Cf. Zech. xi. : ' Beauty ' got broken first and then ' Bands ' had to be broken]. If only we could live together as the little yellow daisy flowerets live — never hear any of them say, ' I'll never love you any more ' — each in his own place, doing his own duty, happy and contented, at one with all his brothers. Remember what Psalmist says (Ps. c.Kxxiii.), ' Behold how good,' etc. If we want home to be like daisy, or school like daisy, then no quarrelling, jealousy, unkindness, but all 'dwelling- together in unity '. But the daisy not all yellow — what else ? The little flowers clubbed together can secure aviong them this beautiful bright crown ! See what St. Paul says (Eph. iv. 1, 3), 'walk worthy . . . bond of peace'; cf Colossians iii. 14, 'above all . . , bond of perfectness' (i.e. 'perfect belt' or 'girdle'). If like the daisy flowerets we love one another, like them we have a beautiful girdle — the perfect girdle or bond of peace. ill. Source of Health. — What makes the daisy grow? What keeps all the little flowerets united, and the beautiful white crown-belt unbroken ? The light and the air from above, the rains which cleanse it, and refresh it throuij;h the roots. So too we want, God's Light, God's Spirit (like wind), and all the other refreshing influences by which God tries to make us pure ; we can only 'flourish ' as this 'flower of the field ' through the ' mercy of the Lord, which endureth for ever'.— C. A. Goodhart, Hints and Outlines for Children's Services, p. 83. THE KINQ IN THE BEAUTY OF HIS KINGDOM ' His kingdom ruleth over all.' — Psalm cm. ig. We have spoken of the beauty of Jesus as a King. He makes all His people good, and peaceable, and happy. And a king who really can do this for all his subjects, appears very beautiful to us. And the words of David in our present text call us to look at the kingdom of Jesus. He has a kingdom now. The Bible tells us that He is seated at the right hand of God the Father. And He sits there as King. 'The government is upon His shoulder.' It is easier for us to think of Jesus as a poor man than as a great King. We read of Him as ' the man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief ; we know that He was so poor that, ' though the foxes had holes, and the birds of the air had nests, yet He had not where to lay His head '. We think of Him as heal- ing the sick, and raising the dead, and working many miracles as ' He went about doing good '. AH this is easy for us to think about ; but it is not so easy for us to think about Jesus as having a great king- dom ; yet this is what we must now try to do. When we hear people talking about governments, or kingdoms, we are very apt to think, 'Well, these are not things that are of any importance to us as children. Men and women may attend to these things ; but they are not for us to think of, or care much about '. Well, if it were the kingdom of Eng- land, or the government of France, or Germany, or Russia, or China, that we were talking about, then it would be true. We, as children, would have no interest in those kingdoms or governments. It would make very little difference to us whether those king- doms were good or bad. But when we come to talk about the kingdom that Jesus has, it is very difltrent. We are all interested in this kingdom. It has some- thing to do with every one of us. From the oldest scholar in one of our Bible classes, down to the youngest scholar in the infant .school, we should all wish to know about this kingdom. This kingdom has a great deal to do with every one of us. We should all try to find out what sort of a kingdom it is. And this is what we wish now to speak of I want to show that there is great beauty in the king- dom of Jesus. This is our subject now : The beauty of Christ's kingdom. There are three reasons why it is beautiful. I. In the First Place, the Kingdom of Jesus is a Beautiful Kingdom because it Rules Over ' All the Greatest Things '. — One of the greatest things that we know of is this world that we live on. If we could take a line, and go all round the outside of the world, and measure it, we should find that line about twenty-four thousand miles long. If we could bore a hole, right through the earth, from just where we stand to the other side of it, and then drop a line through, we should find that line — measuring the diameter of the earth — would be about eight thousand miles in length. This vast world is full of rocks, and sand, and earth, and water. How big this world is ! How hard it must be to move it ! Why, if the world should stand still, all the men that ever lived, with all the horses to help them, and all the steam engines ever made, if they were all put together, could not move the world a single inch ; no, nor the hundredth part of an inch. But Jesus, in His beauti- ful kingdom, moves this great world a great deal easier than you or I can bend our little finger. A vessel was at sea in a terrible storm some time ago. The captain gave up all hope of being able to save the ship, and told the passengers to prepare for the worst. Some were crying aloud and wringing their hands ; others were calling upon God to save them. Among these was a Christian man who re- mained perfectly calm. ' How can you be so quiet in the midst of this fear- ful storm ? ' asked one of his fellow-passengers. 305 Ver. 19. PSALMS cm., CIV Ver. 16. ' My Father in heaven is ruling this storm,' said the christian. ' He can keep the vessel from sinking if He sees best. If I sink, I shall still be in my Father's hand. I know I am safe there. Why should I be afraid ? ' That was the right use to make of the subject we are now talking about. The kingdom of Jesus is a beautiful kingdom, because it rules over all the greatest things. II. But the Kingdom of Jesus is a Beautiful King- dom, in the Second Place, because it Rules Over 'All the Smallest Things'. — On the one hand, nothing is so great that He is unable to manage it ; and on the other hand, nothing is so little that He ever loses sight of it. He can put His hand of power on great worlds, and suns, and oceans, and rivers, and winds, and storms, and make them do j ust what He wishes them to do. And at the same time He makes use of the little rays of light, and the little grains of sand, to work for Him too. What a little thing a drop of water is ! How tiny it seems, as it hangs on the tip of your finger ! And yet, when God wished to form the mighty ocean. He made use of those tiny little drops for this purpose. What a little thing the pebble stone was that David put into his sling when he went forth to fight that great giant of Gath ! Yet God did more for Israel by that little pebble than by all the thousands of swords and spears in the army of King Saul. What a little thing a coral insect is ! And yet God makes use of that tiny insect to do what all the great whales in the ocean never could do — build up the coral islands from the bottom of the ocean. III. Jesus not only Rules Over all the Greatest Things, and all the Smallest Things, but He ' Rules them at all Times, and in all Places '. — The Bible is full of illustrations of the way in which this kingdom is ruling all things, at all times, and in all places. It was this which kept Noah safe while the world was drowning. It was this which kept Lot safe while the storm of fire was burning up Sodom and Gomor- rah. It was this which kept Joseph safe, although his brethren had made up their minds to kill him. It was this which kept Moses safe in Egypt, though Pharaoh was very angry with him, and would have killed him if he could. It was this which kept David safe, though Saul was hunting him with an army of three thousand men, all up and down the land, and trying for years to destroy him. It was this which kept Daniel safe in the den of lions, and his three fritnds when Nebuchadnezzar threw them into the burning fiery furnace. And when Jonah was carried by the great fish down to the lowest depths of the ocean, it was this ' kingdom ruling over all,' which preserved him there, and brought him safe back to land and to his home again. And in just the same way this kingdom, as it rules over all things, is preserving people now. Here is an illustration. Some time ago a clergyman from New Haven was on a visit to Boston during the winter. He was | stopping at the Marlborough Hotel, and was sitting in his room writing a lecture that he was going to deliver. A very severe gale was blowing that day. He stopped in his writing, being at a loss for a word. He clasped his hands over his head, and tilted his chair back, while meditating about the word he wished to make use of Just while he was doing this the storm blew down the chimney, and a great mass of bricks and mortar came tearing through the roof and the ceiling, and crushed the table on which he had been writing. If he had not leaned back on his chair at that very moment he would have been killed in- stantly. The hole made in the roof was from ten to fourteen feet in width. What was it which led this minister to lean back, at that moment, and so to save his life ? It was not an accident or chance that happened to him. In a world where God is always present, everywhere, there can be no such thing as accident or chance. Nothing merely happens. Everything is known, and ordered, or allowed. Jesus, whose ' kingdom ruleth over all,' was in the room with that minister. It was one of His angels who led him to tip back his chair, and thus to save his life. And when we think of Jesus as ruling all the greatest things, and all the smallest things, in all places, and at all times, then it may well be said that we are ' seeing the King ' in the beauty of His kingdom. If we have Jesus for our friend it will always be a help and comfort to us to think how ' His kingdom ruleth over all'. — Richard Newton, The Beauty of the King, p. 51. CEDARS ' The trees of the Lord are full of sap, the cedars of Lebanon which He hath planted.' — Psalm civ. i6. There is a reference here to special trees, one kind being mentioned, ' the cedars of Lebanon '. The cedars belong to a family of very valuable trees — namely, the pine family. I believe, in common with many others, that the reference in the first part of this verse is to the different varieties of pine-trees which flourished at the time in Pale.stine. In the latter part of this verse there is special mention of the cedar as the finest specimen. There is a very special meaning in these words : ' The trees of the Lord are full of sap, the cedars of Lebanon which He hath planted '. The pine-trees are the oldest kind of trees of which we know. Geologists go down deep among the rocks, and they find that the earliest specimen of tree life is that of the pine, buried deep in the earth, and at length forming a part of the rock for ever. So that in that sense the Psalmist might well call the cedars specially, and pines in general, ' the trees of the Lord '. The good old Hebrew prophets and Psalmists, when they saw anything specially grand or imposing or beautiful in Nature, used to say, ' It is the Lord's '. If a great mountain was bigger than any other, they exclaimed, ' It is the Mount of the Lord '. And so with retjard 306 Ver. 16. PSALMS CIV., CX Ver. 3. to everything that impressed them above other things in Nature. If anything was more venerable or ancient than other things, the Jews at once called it God's. On this ground the pines specially de.served the honourable name of ' the trees of the Lord '. The pines, especially the cedars, are vigorous and luxuriant, growmg on bleak mountains and barren heights where no other tree can stand the fierce gale. There, upon the rock where there is only shallow soil — a few feet, at most, of earth — in which other trees could not find place for their roots, as most send their roots downwards, the pine-trees, and especially the cedars, spread their roots along the shallow surface of earth, forming knots so as more firmly to grasp the soil ; and thus reach out to the roots of other trees, and embrace each other, so that not one shall fall without the others. The cedars have a sort of confederacy ; they are always looking out for each other's roots, in order that they may join hands and be able to resist the force of the mighty gale, shallow as the earth may be where they grow. Ah ! when the Psalmist thought of those cedars and fir-trees of Lebanon growing luxuriantly on shallow soil, upon mountain slopes and summits, he concluded, ' It is the Lord who has planted these '. They would not grow there if they had not been of His planting. He has provided for their growth, where no other tree can flourish. The trees of the Lord ' are full ' — of sap is added by the translators. It may mean that ; or it may mean 'full of life,' ' full of strength,' ' full of everything that makes a tree '. ' The trees of the Lord are full of strength, the cedars of Lebanon which He hath planted.' The trees of the Lord are a great blessing, be- cause, growing as they do high on the heights of Lebanon, they tap the clouds, and bring down the moisture, so that every brook in the land, and especi- ally the River Jordan, may be supplied with water. ^Vhy is Palestine to-day such a barren country in comparison with what it was ? Travellers tell us they are disappointed : some of the loveliest plains of ancient days are by no means as lovely now. Why ? The cedars of Lebanon have been cut down, and only a group of trees — about four hundred — remain, chiefly in one of the hollows. The ancient trees that used to cover the slopes and summit of Lebanon touched the clouds, and the moisture used to condense on the branches and drop down, and every drop helped the others, and they went to- gether, until at last they became a rill, and the rill a brook, and the brook a river ; and thus the plains were abundantly supplied with moisture. God planted these trees in Lebanon to make Palestine a rich and fertile land, a land flowing with milk and honey. Thus they were useful trees : they did not live for themselves, but brought down the blessings of heaven for others. Now the trees of the Lord which did this were full of sap themselves. There was no tree more beautiful, no tree higher and broader and more luxuriant, than the cedar of Lebanon, So, too, if you are useful you will not be poverty-stricken yourselves ; you will be blessed to the extent that you bless others. He that waters is watered. There are some people who think that if they had only been born in better circumstances their lives would be very much better and richer. According to that principle there would be plenty of trees down in the valleys very much more beautiful and rich than the cedar. But no ! The cedar, though planted high up and exposed to the storms, is a strong, luxuriant, and beautiful thing. I have seen some human lives nourished amid wealth and luxury, and receiving everything that the earth could give, and yet they were miserable and poverty- stricken. On the other hand, I have seen some splendid characters in great trials ; lives constantly exposed to storms and dangers. They were planted by the Lord's own hand ; yet He let the storms of life beat upon them so that many a one was tempted to exclaim, ' Hath the Lord forgotten to be gracious ? ' No ! No I 1 No I I ! He who let the four winds of heaven blow upon the cedars of Lebanon, allows the winds of trial to blow upon some of His favourite ones, and for the same reason — namely, that every storm will add to their strength and beauty. Now the cedar did not cease to be useful when it fell. When cut down it was used for God's house. Some of the most beautiful furniture, or the most important parts of the Temple, was made of cedar, so that to the last the cedar was associated with the God who planted it. God grant that we may be as useful, as strong, as flourishing, and as beautiful in life as the trees of the Lord, so full of sap, and when our service here is over may we form a part of His heavenly Temple, where He will dwell for ever. — David Davies, Talks with Men, Women, and Children (6th Series), p. 21. THE DEW OF OUR YOUTH ' Thou hast the dew of thy youth.' — Psalm ex. 3. It is very pleasant to get up early on a summer's morning and to go out into the fields, and see how every little blade of grass, and every little flower has been dressing itself in the night with pearls and diamonds. I wonder whether you know how ' the dew ' is made. It does not come down from the clouds. I will explain it to you. There is a great deal of moisture in the air. When the air is warm you do not know it ; but when, at night, everything gets cold — when the little blades of grass get cold, and the leaves get cold — then, getting cold, it makes the little moistures in the air all come together: it is called condensing it ; and because it all gets cold and the little drops come to- gether, then they cover the little leaves and blades of grass, just as you see it in the ' dew '. And the hotter the day has been, the hotter the leaves and the grass become ; and therefore they send out more heat : it is like a cold stream ; and that makes more ' dew,' and therefore the hotter the day has been, the more is ' the dew '. This is very 307 Ver. 3. PSALM CX Ver. 3. kind of God, because when the day has been very hot we want more ' dew '. And in very hot countries, where the Bible was written, ' the dew ' is more vahiable than in England. I do not know what they would do without ' the dew'. So that when Isaac was blessing Jacob (if you like you can look at it in the twenty-seventh chapter of Genesis), he said to him, ' God give thee the " dew" of heaven,' because it was a great blessing. And in the twenty-ninth chapter of Job he says, when de- scribing how happy he once was, ' the dew lay ail night upon my branch '. When David was grieving over the mountains of Gilboa, because Saul and Jonathan died there, he said, ' Let there be no dew upon the mountains of Gilboa '. Well, now, what does it mean ? That children have ' dew '. ' Thou hast the dew of thy youth.' Can you think what it means ? Are children happier than other people ? Have children some blessings that other people have not ? I want to tell you about one thing — I do not know whether you ever thought of it — I do not think all of you have. It is rather difficult. Will you try to understand it ? When Adam and Eve ate the fruit in the garden, God said that because they had eaten that ' fruit ' which they ought not to have done, for it was sinful to eat it, that all their children to the end of the world — everybody that was ever born into the world — should die, should be punished. Was not that hard ? Does it not seem rather hard, because Adam and Eve did wrong, every boy and girl in the world should be punished ? I think it does. And it would be very hard if it were not for some- thing else. God also said that, because Jesus Christ died, every boy and girl bom into the world should be forgiven. That is what I want you to think of Every boy and girl that is ever born into the world is forgiven for Christ's sake. It says so in the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans. There is a great deal about it in that chapter. One verse is this : ' As by the offence of one,' i.e. by Adam's sin — 'judgment came upon all men to condemnation ' — i.e. everybody that ever was born should be con- demned— ' even so,' God says, ' by the righteousness of one ' — i.e. by the death of Jesus Christ, by what Jesus Christ has done for us — ' by the righteousness of one, the free gift ' — i.e. life from heaven — ' came upon all men unto j ustification of life ' — i.e. they should be forgiven. Therefore, every little baby that is born into the world is forgiven, when it is a little baby, for the sake of Jesus Christ. There are two things I wish you to think of : one is that because Jesus Christ died you were forgiven all Adam had done ; and when you came into this world, though you brought with you a wicked heart, yet God forgave you, and God said you should live ; and if you had died then, you would have gone to heaven ; and God has given you the Holy Spirit, and you have the Holy Spirit drawing your heart, and saying little things to you in )our heart to do you good. Do not you know that you have ? Do not you feel that you have ? Do not you hear the little voices ? Have you not felt the little cords all pulling you ? ' Thou hast the dew of thy youth ! ' Now I am going to tell you three things which show whether we have ' the dew of our youth '. Four things there will always be if we have ' the dew of our youth,' i.e. if we have the Holy Spirit in our hearts. Tiie first thing I am going to say is, that wherever the Holy Spirit is with us, and we have ' the dew of our youth,' we have soft feelings — very tender, soft feelings. Don't you ever be ashamed of having soft feelings. I am sorry to say that sometimes boys and girls laugh at others if they have soft feelings. I have seen boys and girls laugh at others if they blush or cry about something ; if they have tender feelings. Do not be ashamed to have soft feelings. I wish we were all like a particular kind of rock, called the 'red sandstone'. I should like to tell you a little about it. The red sandstone is a very hard rock. If you were to go now into Devonshire, where there is a great deal of it, you would find a hard red rock ; but if you were to look at that rock in some places you would see the marks of rain on the stone ; and not only so, but you could tell which way the wind blew, causing the rain to trickle down the rock in a slanting position. Ages ago, hundreds of yeai-s ago, that rain made those little marks on the sandstone. When it was very soft those marks were made ; and they have all lasted. I wonder whether your soft feelings will last. I'ray for soft feelings. If God gives you a soft feeling, pray Him to keep it there. It is a precious thing to have soft feelings. I will tell you another thing. Have very simple thoughts. Do you like simple thoughts ? Chnst does. He tells us we must be ' like little children '. Let me tell you what I mean. There was once a boy, and a boy much older than himself said to him one day, ' I have something to tell you. It is very funny, but you must not tell, it is a secret.' The little boy said, ' I won't tell anybody except my mother '. The big boy said, ' You must not tell your mother'. He said, 'Oh yes, I must. I have made it a rule never to hear anything which I cannot tell my mother.' Oh I I wish you would make a rule — 'never to hear anything which you cannot tell your mother '. I believe it would save many a boy from what brings bitter consequences to him if he would make that rule with all his schoolfellows- — aye, and every girl too — ' I will listen to no conversation, I will hear nothing which I cannot go and tell my mother '. Will you make this rule ? It is a very simple thought ; but because it is simple it is so vei^^ nice. I believe if you would make that rule you would have ' the dew of your youth '. ' I will hear nothing which I cannot tell my mother.' Another sign there vvill be if you have ' the dew of your youth ' ; it is this, when you have done wrong 308 Ver. 3. PSALM CX Ver. 3, you will be very unhappy about it, that is, you will have deep convictions of sin — your heart will prick vou, and you will feel very sad that ever you have been left to do anything wrong. You know we all do some things that are wrong ; we can hardly help it ; but the mark of a Christian is that he feels he has done wrong, and he cannot be happy till he is forgiven. There is one more thing, if you have 'the dew of your youth ' you will have good impressions — some- thing will seem to speak to you in your heart and draw you towards what is good. Do you feel it ? Is there something in your heart telling you and drawing you, and saying, ' Now be a Christian, now begin to love God, now begin to pray more, to love more'. Do you feel it ? It is the Holy Spirit. I will tell you about two little boys, and their names were Edward and Richard. They slept to- gether in the same bed. They were little boys. When they had been undressed by their mother and were getting into bed, Edward said, ' Mother, we have not said our prayers '. His mother said, ' Never mind, Edward, I will hear you say your prayers in the morning '. Little Edward said, ' Oh I no, mamma, please let me say my prayers '. His mother was just going to do so, but she had company downstairs, and she said, ' I am in a great hurry, I cannot stop '. And the mother went downstairs without hearing her little boy say his prayei-s. So little Edward jumped into bed. After being there a little while he said, 'Richard, I wish nurse was at home '. ' Why, Edward ? ' said he. ' Because we could say our prayers with nurse.' Richard said, ' But nurse is out '. ' Well, Richard, will you get out of bed with me, and we'll say our prayers ? ' Richard said, ' No ; it is quite dark '. ' Never mind the dark,' said Edward, ' we can hold one another's hands, and God can hear in the dark just the same. Let us get out of bed and say our prayers.' Richard said, 'No, not now; it is very cold'. 'Never mind the cold,' said little Edward, 'we shall be in bed again in two or three minutes.' Richard said, ' No, I can't ; I won't '. Presently little Richard heard a rustling in the room, and he said, 'Edward, where are you?' 'I am only at the bedside.' 'What are you doing?' ' I am saying my prayers, for myself and for you.' About five minutes passed, and little Edward went to bed again ; and when his feet touched Richard's he said, ' Oh ! how cold you are '. He said, ' Never mind ; I am much happier. I should not have thought myself safe all night if I had not said my prayers. I am quite happy. I should be happy if I died to-night — should you, Richard ? ' ' No ; I should not be happy if I died to-night,' said Richard. Little Edward said, ' I should — for I know I love God, and God loves me '. Richard said, ' I should not like to die, because I should have no more play '. ' Oh yes,' said Edward, ' we should play with the angels — play amongst the stars. You will have plenty of play in heaven. ' Again Richard said, ' I should not like to die '. 'Very well,' said Edward, 'but I should.' And do you know little Edward never left that bed alive ? In the morning he was very ill ; and in a few days he went to heaven so happy. The same kind Spirit that made him get out of bed to say his prayers made him so happy when dying. Now he_is in heaven. He had good impressions. Those are things showing we have ' the dew of our youth ' ; soft feelings, simple thoughts, feeling our sins very much, and having good desires, good im- pressions in our hearts. And now take care, for you know ' the dew ' very quickly goes. Will you turn to the sixth of Hosea and read the fourth verse : ' O Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee ? O Judah, what shall I do unto thee ? for your goodness is as a morning cloud, and as the early dew it goeth aw-ay.' What keeps ' the dew ' on the ground ? Where does ' the dew ' stay — out in the glare, or in the shade ? Does not ' the dew ' stay in the shade ? Then you must live in the shade if you would keep your ' dew '. Do you know what I mean by ' living in the shade ' ? It is not a thing (I am son-y to say) that boys and girls do nowadays. I think that it is a sad thing that boys and girls, long before they are men and women, want to get out of the shade — want to be in public — to be men and women before they are so. And perhaps you will hardly like me to say it, but I do not think that boys and girls, wishing to be thought men and women before their time, will keep their ' dew '. It always goes away. I advise you to keep 'the dew'. Keep in the shade. Be a little violet ; it is better than the sunflower : you will seem much prettier, and be much happier. Violets live in the shade. Keep ' the dew '. Every- body will love you more. You will be more use- ful. Let me tell you another thing. If you wish to keep ' the dew of your youth,' i.e. to keep a happy Cliristian spirit — to have God's Holy Spirit with you — you must often be alone. Do you remember in the sixteenth of Exodus we read that when ' the dew ' came on the ground, then they found ' the manna ' ; they never found ' the manna ' without ' the dew '. Now what is ' the manna ' ? Truth — ^the Bible — Christ. You must go with ' the dew ' of the Spirit ; with the Spirit of God with you, you must get ' manna '. You must read yom- Bible — you must think about Christ — you must feed your soul upon Christ and then you will keep ' the dew '. In one of the galleries of the Louvre, in Paris, there are two pictures side by side. I don't know whether you know those two pictures. I will just tell you a little about them, then you will understand how they explain the text, what it is to have ' the dew of our youth '. Many years ago there was a great painter in Paris and he wanted to paint a most beautiful child, and he inquired for the most lovely baby to be found in Paris. At last he found a beautiful little creature ; 309 Ver. 7. PSALMS CXI I., CXV Ver. 6. his countenance was full of intelligence and beauty, and he painted it. Many yeai-s after that he thought he should like to paint the opposite, he wanted to paint a horrid old man, the worst to be found ; at last he was guided to a prison, to the Bastille, and there was a grim, frowning, unhappy, horrible looking old man in his chains ; he was the picture of all that was horrid, abominable, and wretched. He painted it. After he had painted it he began to talk to him, and he found out that this old man was the same person that he had painted, when an infant, sixty years previously and that he was the most beautiful child to be found in Paris ; but now he was the most horrid old man to be found, and he was condemned, for some great crime, to spend the rest of his yeai-s in the Bastille. He had lost the ' dew of his youth ! ' — James Vaughan. A FIXED HEART ' He shall not be afraid of evil tidings : his heart is fixed, trust- ing in the Lord.' — Psalm cxii. 7. Introduction. — [This may be used with effect in any address taken from the acrostic Psalms.] Some boys and girls learn hymns — rhyme helps them. Jew boys and girls used to do the same more than 2000 years ago. What we call ' Book of Psalms ' their hymn book. No rhymes ; but some hymns easy to learn, because the lines put in alphabetical order, first line, or set of lines, begins with A, second with B, and so on. This cxii. Psalm one of these easy hymns, cf. cxi., cxix., etc. Our text would be remembered as the lines beginning with M and N. See what it tells about ; — I. A Man whose Heart is Fixed. — As we say, ' made up his mind '. 1. People without fixed hearts, who could not make up their minds — Reuben, Genesis xxxvii. 22, etc., cf. xlii. 22. He spoke, but he did not act, though he was the eldest, cf. XLIX. 4. Orpah, Ruth i. 14. 2. People who had fixed hearts — Jacob made up his mind to get the blessing. Solomon to be wise, a good judge. Ruth to help her mother-in-law, not leave her — she ' clave unto her ' — to be as useful as she could be. You perhaps have made up your mind, e.g. to get all the marks you can — so get prize, etc. II. What came of its being Fixed. — ' Not afraid of evil tidings.' But some people, with hearts fixed, would be very much afraid of evil tidings, e.g. : — 1. Man made up his mind to get a fortune — not quite well — doctor, ' Can't live ' — a fixed heart makes him more afraid. 2. You to have a holiday ; working for it — heart fixed — very much afraid if it looks rainy the night before. Why did not this man fear? III. Where his Heart was Fixed. — Even more important than being fixed. ' Trusting in the Lord.' [Ship in storm anchored to floating island. Good to be anchored ; but if the anchorage shifts, what then ?] cf Matthew vi. 19-21. Illustrate from fittings of a ship's cabin — lamps, glasses, etc. , not fixed below, but hung fi-om above ; so when ship rolls they do not roll with ship, but hang steady. Apply, cf Colossians iii. 2. Recapitulate. — Fixed heart a good thing, but more important where it is fixed. Where is your heart fixed ? [cf Collect for Fourth Sunday after Easter]. — C. A. GooDHART, Hints and Outlines for Chil- dren's Services, p. 119. THE NOSE-QATE ' Noses have they but they smell not.' — Psalm cxv. 6. ' Let my prayer be set before you as incense.' — Psalm cxli. 2. ' I will not smell in your solemn assemblies.' — Amos v. 21. I AM sure I shall surprise you by telling you the first thing the nose suggests. It is — I. Prayer. — How can that be, you say ? Well, you all know what a sacrifice is in the Old Testament sense. It was an offering laid upon a heap of stones and burned, and as the smoke of it rose up to the heavens and was lost, so the one who made the offering thought that it had gone up to God Him,self who would feel the smell of the offering and listen to the prayer that lay behind it. You remember the case of Cain and Abel. God accepted the offering of Abel ; He refused Cain's. In Dore's picture of this incident we see the smoke, and therefore the smell of Abel's sacrifice, rising straight up to heaven where God 'smelled it as a sweet savour' ; while on Cain's altar the smoke is shown driven down as if by a strong wind to the earth, signifying that God had rejected it. This method of sacrifice was man's way of ap- proaching God, and God accepted it as a token of man's desire to be in touch with him. Then, in later times, when God was worshipped, not in the open air only, but in temples built to His honour, we find a sweet smelling smoke called ' In- cense ' used in worship, and, it may be, that this took the place of the old sacrifice in the later days of the Church's worship. In the Jewish Temple, when the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies to pray for the people he always carried with him the ' censer,' a round metal case in which incense was burned, and as he swung it before the Mercy Seat the clouds of it rose into the air, a vivid symbol of the prayers that were being offered up to God. And so we can under- stand now the beautiful words of David, ' Let my prayer be set before Thee as incense ; and the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice '. We can now see the connection in St. Paul's words to the Philippians when he speaks of ' an odour of a sweet smell, acceptable, well-pleasing to God '. And we can get a deeper glimpse into the meaning of the strange words of the book of Revelation ' And an angel came and stood at the altar, having a golden censer ; and there was given unto him much incense, that he should offer it with the prayere of all the 310 Ver. 6. PSALM CXV Ver. 6. saints, upon the golden altar which was before the Throne. And the smoke of the incense which cauie with the prayei-s of the saints ascended up before God out of the angel's hand.' And again, in another place, we have the significant words, ' Golden vials, full of odours which are the prayers of the saints '. It is evident, then, that this sweet-smelling incense has long been associated in the Church, and in wor- ship, with the idea of prayer. II. The second lesson that comes to us through the Nose-gate is that of The Power of Influence. — What is influence ? A Persian poet tells how a lump of clay was discovei-ed to have clinging about it the beautiful, delicate perfume of the rose, and being asked where it got this fragrant smell that so trans- formed it, it replied that all night it had been lying close-pressed to a rose. The rose we say influenced the clay. That ugly lump was changed because it had come in contact for a few hours with the sweet, beautiful rose. Nothing clings to one so readily as a smell. It isall right if thesmell isgood, butifitisbad it is all wrong, and you cannot go near a good or bad smell without carrying it away with you so that others notice it. There are some trades that cannot be hid. You can tell where some men are employed by the very smell of their clothes. I remember at college, for weeks after the beginning of the session, one could tell that certain students came from the High- lands by the odour of the peat that clung to their clothes. We all have an influence that lies round us just like an odour, and it affects all we come in contact with for good or evil. You cannot be in bad com- pany without this influence aff'ecting you. This truth has found a place in one of the idioms of our language. When we hear it said that so-and-so is ' in bad odour ' it means that the one in question has done or said something which has so displeased his friends that they keep him at arm's length, as if there were some- thing unpleasant about his very presence. We can- not come in contact with evil and sin ourselves without catching this ' bad odour '. To put it bluntly, it will cling to us like a bad smell. Long ago, in the times of the Puritans in England, a boy named Sibbes was won to the side of Christ by the quiet influence of a godly mother. When he grew up to be a man he wrote a little book called The Bruised Feed. Some years afterwards a pedlar gave a copy of this book to a young man, requesting him at the same time to read it carefully and pray over it. The young man, struck by the strangeness of the gift and the re- quest, did so, and it was the means of bringing him to Christ That young man became the famous Richard Baxter, and the outcome ofthat chance gift of the ped- lar was, among other works, Baxter's world-renowned Saints Rest. This book was the means of winning many to Christ, and among them Philip Doddridge. He in turn wi-ote an almost equally famous book called The Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul, and what this land of ours and the world at large owes to it, only Eternity can tell. One of those converted by its means was Wilberforce, who wrote the most notable religious book of his day, his Practical View of Christianity. To this book Thomas Chalmers, the great leader of the Free Church in Scotland, owed his finding of the light of the knowledge of God, and the Church he helped to establish is but another outcome of the quiet saintly- influence of that mother who lived so long ago in Puritan England, and of the little boy she trained so well for the service of Christ. I am sure that these two, mother and son, never dreamed that such a vast number of men and women would, from its human side, owe to them what they held dearest in the world. III. Finally, it is a well-known fact that smell has a wonderful way of opening the doors of Memory. In the language of science we say it is strong in the power of Association. Young people will all realise this more fully as they grow older. Some day, years hence, when they have left their quiet country homes where they spent the happy days of childhood, and live now in the noise and dust and grime of some great city, a ' whifF' of violets may come to them from some florist's shop in the heai't of the city, or a passing cart may bring to them the scent of the new- mown hay. At once the memory of the old days will come back to them — the fragrant woods with their green and mossy banks, and the shy violets peeping from the ground ; the open, wind- swept fields, with the scented grass and the waving, golden corn ; and over all the deep, soft blue of God's own heaven, clear, warm, sunny. And it may be, as the floodgates of memory open and the old associa- tions come home to the heart, the tears will start to their eyes as they sigh for the cleaner, happier life that once was theire. Ah, yes ! What memories rise at the call of a mere odour ! Dr. Hugh Mac- millan tells us how, as a boy, he used to go through a wood thick with wild geraniums on his way to school, and he says : ' I cannot feel the smell of this common weed for a moment without that wood and all those happy memories of my school life coming back with the utmost vividness to my mind '. What is the plain lesson for us here ? Never to do or say anything that will bring us, however raised, memories that may haunt us in the coming days with unavailing regret, with bitter sorrow, with hopeless tears. It is now that we are making the memories of the future years. We are doing now the things that make us what we are and what we will become. Whatever we may be able to change in our life, one thing we never can change — our memories. As Pilate said, so must we all say, ' What I have written I have written '. We cannot go back over it like a page of a copy-book and wipe out the stain that may have come on our life. It is there behind us as part of a past that cannot be altered. The moving finger writes ; and having writ Moves on : nor all thy piety nor wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a line. Nor all thy tears wash out a word of it. 311 Ver. 9. PSALM CXIX Ver. 9. If we have sinned, the memory of that sin can never leave us, and it may be that some sweet odour of the country will bring it all back again, and we realise that our memories' cannot alter. Will we not then take this solemn lesson to heart, and try and have such things in our past to look back upon as shall only bring us peace and joy and, above all, gratitude to the Good Father of all, who alone can give to His own children happy memories. — J. Thomson, The Six Gates, p. 69. ON CLEANSING OUR WAYS ' Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way ? By tak- ing heed thereto according to thy word.' — Psalm cxix. g. When the Psalmist speaks ofoMTway, then, he means our way of life, the way in which we spend our days, the way in which we occupy ourselves from morning to night, and from year to year. And when he speaks of cleansing our way he implies that at some points, at least, our way has led us through the mire. The picture in his mind was of this sort. There stood before him a young man who had not long set out on the journey of life ; and who yet, to his own deep surprise and disgust, found many stains of travel alreadv upon him. He had not meant to go wrong ; as yet, perhaps, he has not gone very far wrong. And yet where did all this filth come from ? And how is it to be got rid of ? And if, at the very outset of the journey, he has wandered into bypaths which have left these ugly stains upon him, what will he be like when he reaches the end of his journey? How can he hope to keep a right course and to present himself, without spot, before God at the last ? In short, how is he to make his way clean and to keep it clean ? It is not a bad sign, but a sign of good that you should be asking this question, asking it seriously, or even son-owfully. For it shows at least that you know your own weakness, and want to be strong ; it shows that you know your own danger, and want to be saved from it. Nor is it a bad omen, it is a good omen that you should despair of yourselves ; for that may lead you, and ought to lead you, to trust in a Power and a Goodness higher that 3'our own. If you were content with yourselves I, for one, should begin to despair of you : for who can habitually look up to that Pattern of all excellence, the Perfect Son of Man, without seeing how sadly, and in how many ways he falls short of it ? I "hope, therefore', that many of you are seriously, if not sorrowfully, asking yourselves. How may we cleanse our ways and keep them clean ? And if you are asking that question at all seriously you will, I am sure, listen with attention and interest to what any wise and good man, who has had a large experience of life, has to say in reply to it — listen with special interest and attention to what any man inspired by God has to say to it. The inspired Psahnist offers you two answers to that question which I will ask you to consider. When we go to him and ask, ' How may we cleanse our ways ? ' he replies, first, 'By taking heed thereto'; and then, 'By taking heed thereto according to God's ivord '. I. If we are to make our life pure, noble, satisfying we are to take heed to it, i.e. we are to think abou it, and to force ourselves to walk according to our best thoughts and aims. How wise an answer that is you may see when I tell you that one of the greatest of living Englishmen sums up the whole teaching of the wisest German of the present century in the brief citation : ' Gedenke, zu leben '. I quote Goethe's very words because I am speaking to you young men and women who, many of you, know what they mean. But for the sake of others I must add that ' Gedenke, zu leben ' means literally, ' Think, to live'. Carlyle translates, 'Think of living'. But you will all get hold of its meaning if I say that what it really comes to is this : ' If you would live rightly and well, you must think — think how it is best to live '. So that you see two of the wisest men of our own time are of one mind with the Psalmist who lived between two and three thousand years before them. He says, ' If you would walk in pure and noble ways of life, think of your ways ' ; and they say, 'Would you live well, think how to live'. II. But this is not the whole of the Psalmist's answer. There is a second part to it ; and we cannot do justice even to the first part of it till we have glanced at the second. For, though it is well to think of living, to think is not enough. We want a high and true standard to which to refer, by which we may measure and direct our thoughts. And this standard the Psalmist gives us when he tells us to take heed to our ways according to the Word of God. Many a man has thought of living, thought about what he would do with his life, and has been true to his thoughts, only to find himself sticking hclples-ly in the yellow dht which we call ' money '. Not that I have a word to say against money in its proper place. On the contrary I have a great, though dis- tant, respect for it ; for very little of it has ever come my way. And no young man starting in life, and longing to keep his way clean, can be too sure of this ; that he ought to do his best to secure a sufficient provision for himself and for those who may here- after be dependent on him. Every man needs a certain amount of money to make him independent, to save him from being a burden on others, to lift him out of the reach of sordid and fretting cares, to set him free to take the path of study or action he finds most congenial and profitable, to enable him to lend and do good. The great charm of wealth — if by 'wealth' we mean a modest but secure provision for all reasonable needs — is that it sets a man free to serve his neighbours for nothing. That, indeed, is what God gives it to us for, if He does give it. But while wealth is a capital servant it is a brutal master. And it is perilously apt to become the master of any man who makes it his chief aim even for a time. ' Dirt,' according to Lord Palmers- ton, ' is only matter in the wrong place '. And money 312 Yer. 9. PSALM CXIX Ver. 32. becomes 'dirt' when we suffer it to get into the wrong place. And it does get into the wrong place when it gets into the chief place. You want to make your life clean — i.e. pure, bright, beautiful— and to keep it clean. If, then, you are con.scious that you have already contracted some stains, some pollutions, by wandering in sinful and miry ways, the Divine Word bids you repent, bids you go to God your Father, and, humbly confessing your sins, trust in His love for cleansing and forgive- ness. It shows you that you may trust in His for- giving love ; for it shows you how, in His love, He had foreseen your sins, and made a Sacrifice to take away your sins, and the sin of the whole world. You may well trust in that love then. And if you do trust in it, it will cleanse you from all your stains. And now, being cleansed, you want to keep clean. How are you to do that ? Not by neglecting your daily work, but by doing it as for God, i.e. by doing it as God would have you do it, by doing it in a faithful, generous, and kindly spirit ; by using your gains for good and noble ends, for your neighbour's good as well as for your own ; by renouncing any gain which you can only get through cheating or injuring a neighbour : by making men feel that they can trust you, and depend on you, because you love God and walk by His will. To walk in a clean way, i.e. to live a pure, bright, religious life, you will not need to renounce even your games, sports, amusements, or to go into them with only half a heart, as if you thought them ' un- worthy of an immortal creature '. You will need, rather, to remember that you are mortal as well as immortal, and that health of body tends to health of soul. You will rather aim to take God into all your pleasures and amusements, i.e. to keep them pure, and fresh, and innocent ; to pursue them in a generous and considerate temper ; to study how your playmates and companions may have their full share of the amusement in hand ; and to shun all amuse- ments that are injurious to health, or that excite greedy and selfish passions, or that lead you into bad company or bad habits. If you would walk in clean ways walk by the Word of God, you will not need to abate your ardour for self-culture. You will try, rather, to learn as much as you can, to accomplish j'ourselves as vari- ously as you can ; to lay hold with both hands of that Wisdom which the wisest of men declared to be a veritable tree of life to all that laid hold upon her : but your motive will be — not simply your own culture or advancement, but — a strong and sincere desire to teach and serve your fellows, to make the best use of the gifts which God has bestowed upon you, to fit yourselves for heaven as well as for earth, for eternity as well as for time, for the service of God as well as for the service of man. If you would walk in clean paths by the Word of God you will not cease from, you will not relax your efToi'ts to win the respect and goodwill of your ueighbours ; you will be more than ever bent on securing it in all dutiful and honourable ways. But you will seek to gain influence with them, not that you may get your own way with them and make them serve your will or subserve your personal in- terests ; but that you may help to guide and confirm them in ways that are good, good for them, as well as for you. — Samuel Cox, The Bird's Nest, p. 131. THINGS I WILL DO ' I will run the way of Thy commandments.' — Psalm cxix. 32. Theue was a very good old man who lived a long time ago, and I will tell you what he did. He took a wine glass, and he broke off the bottom of it, and then it could not stand, could it? It cnuld not stand on its stenx And he laid it upon his study table, and round the wine glass he wrote the words, ' Hold Thou me up, and I shall be safe ! ' So the wine glass without a stem, that could not stand without being 'held up,' reminded the good old man, all day long, sitting in his study, that he could not stand alone. ' Hold Thou me up, and I shall be safe.' ' Keep me, and I will keep Thee.' You promised you would ' keep God's holy will and cornmand')ne7its '. What are they ? Can you tell me ? God's ' will ' is the ' commandment ' that He has not written ; God's 'commandment' is God's ' will ' that He has written. ' Commandment ' is written ' will ' : ' will ' is unwritten ' commandment '. God's ' will ' is what we know God would wish us to do, though He has not said it ; God's ' command- ment ' is what He has told us to do. A ' commandment ' is a very blessed thing. A lady has written a book in which she says, ' I like a com- mandment better than a promise, because every com- mandment has a promise inside it, whether written or not '. Then God's ' will ' is a blessed thing. To find out what our heavenly Father wishes us to do, and all day long thinking — ' Would God wish me to do this ? It is not commanded. But would He wish me to do it ? ' I do not know that God has told me to preach to you this afternoon. He told Peter to do so ; but He has not told me. It is God's ' will,' though not His 'commandment'. It is God's ' will ' that you should be happy. Can you think of a text that says so ? I mean one in the seventeenth chapter of St John, and the twenty- fourth verse : ' Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast given Me, be with Me where I am '. ' That they may all go to heaven. I want to have them quite happy in heaven.' God's ' will ' is that you should be happy for ever and ever. Now can you find me a text where it says God's ' will ' is for you to be holy. You will find it in 1 Thessalonians iv. 3 : 'This is the will of God, even your sanctification,' that you are to be made holy. Is it God's will that you should be useful ? What was the first thing Adam was told to do ? To be useful ; to keep the commandment : ' Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth and subdue it'. What did Jesus Christ say men were to do when He 313 Ver. 32. PSALM CXIX Ver. 97. went up to heaven ? Bring everybody to heaven ; be useful. First we are to be happy, then holy, then useful. Which comes first ? Are we to be first happy and then to be holy ? or holy first and then happy ? It is a very difficult question. And I have no doubt what is the true answer. Which do you say — holy fii-st and happy next ? or happy first and holy next ? Happy comes first ; happy, holy, useful. Happy, because God loves us ; holy, because we love Him ; useful, because it is His will. There was once a very excellent Archbishop called Usher, a very learned man indeed, a very good man. And in his time there lived another very good man called Rutherford, who wrote some very beautiful Letters ; perhaps you would not like them much now, but when you grow up you will ; I like them very much indeed. Now Archbishop Usher had heard what a good man Rutherford was, so he determined to find ib out himself. He dressed himself as a pauper and went to Mr. Rutherford's house and knocked at his back door and begged for a night's lodging ; he was asked to come in and was taken to the kitchen, and they gave him something to eat. When prayer-time came Archbishop Usher went into prayers with the servants. It was the custom of Mrs. Rutherford to ask the servants questions at such times. So she asked the Archbishop : ' How many commandments are there ? ' Usher replied, ' Eleven '. She said, ' You, an old man, with grey hair, to tell me there are eleven commandments ! why there is not a little girl in the parish who does not know better'. She spoke so to him. He went to bed. The next morning Mr. Rutherford found out who he was, somehow or other. He went to him and said, ' You must preach for me to-day '. So he gave him some clothes, like a clergyman's black clothes, and Archbishop Usher went up into the pulpit to preach ; and he took for his text the thirty-fourth verse of the thirteenth chapter of St. John : ' A new com- mandment I give unto you, that ye love one another '. When he began his sermon he said, ' So you see we may call this the eleventh commandvient ' . Mrs. Rutherford looked up into his face and said to her- self, ' That is just what the pauper said in my parlour last night '. She looked at him very hard, till at length she said, ' Why it is the same man ! ' So it was Archbishop Usher who taught Mrs. Rutherford that there were eleven commandments : ' a new commandment '. But are you quite sure that there are not two ? When Jesus Christ was asked about them, what did He say ? ' Two.' Did not He say, ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength : this is the fii-st commandment. And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.' So you may say, ' There are eleven commandments,' or you may say, ' There are two,' which you think best. What does God say about this at the beginning of the Ten Commandments ? ' I am the Lord Thy God, who brought thee out of the land of Egypt.' Which word in that sentence is the most important word ? Thy — Thy Ood. If you cannot say My God! then you cannot 'keep His commandments'. But the more you can say the one, the more you can do the other. — James Vaughan. DAVID, THE MODEL USER OF QOD'S WORD ' O, how I love Thy Law I it is my meditation all the day.' — Psalm cxix. 97. I. The first Use that David made of God's Word was for ' Meditation ' — or to give him something to think about. In our text he says : ' O, how I love Thy law ! it is my m,editation all the day '. This means that he was in the habit of reading some of it every morning, and then of remembering it and keeping it in his mind all through the day. And this is a very proper use to make of God's word. This is what we should all try to do. We have many striking examples of the way in which this has been done by God's children in different parts of the world. The Rev. William Romaine, a useful clergyman of the Church of England, for the last thirty years of his life read and studied no other book than the Bible. Surely, like David, he was making it his meditation all the day ! Joshua Barnes, a good English merchant, always carried a New Testament in his pocket. He read that Testament through one hundred and twenty times. A pious English physician used to read fifteen chapters of the Bible every day. He read five chapters in the morning ; five at noon ; and five at night. A pious French nobleman, named De Renty, always read three chapters of the Bible in the morning, kneeling on his knees, and with his head uncovered. Alphonso, King of Spain, read over the whole Bible, together with a large commentary — fourteen times. And a well-known Christian prince, of Austria, read over the whole Bible twenty-seven times. These men were following IDavid's example, in meditating on God's word all the day. II. The second Use that David made of God's Word was for ' Light '. — He says in the 130th verse of this 119th Psalm: 'The entrance of Thy words giveth light '. David was all in the dark about his soul, till he became acquainted with the word of God. And we are all in the same condition. We are born into this world with our souls in the dark. We are in the dark about ourselves ; about God ; about heaven, and the way to get there. And we never can get any light on these great matters till we come to the word of God for it. But as soon as we come here for instruction, the light begins to shine around us. In the 105th verse of this Psalm David says : ' Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto 314 Ver. 97. PSALM CXIX Ver. 97. my path '. It shows us the way in which God would have us walk ; and tells us how we can get strength to walk in that wav. III. The third Thing for which David used Qod's Word was for 'Cleansing.' — In the ninth verse of this 1 19th Psalm David asks the question how a young man can cleanse his ways. And the answer which he gives is that it can only be done by the right use of God's word. And it was just this use of that word which led David when he was repenting of his sin to offer this prayer : ' Wash nie thoroughly I'rom my wickedness and cleanse me from my sin ' (Ps. li. 2). And the Apostle Paul teaches us the same lesson when he tells us that Christ purifies and cleanses His Church ' by the washing of water, by the word ' (Eph. v. 26). What he means by this is that the word, or truth, of God has a purifying power like water; and that just as things when washed in water are made clean by it, so those who make a right use of God's word find that it has a power to purify their hearts and make them clean. And Jesus Himself taught us the same lesson when, in praying to the Father for His people, He said : Sanctify them through Thy truth ; 'Thy word is truth ' (John xvn. 17). To sanctify means to purify or to make clean. And God has appointed His word, or truth, to be the means of cleansing the hearts and souls of His people and of making them pure and holy. IV. The fourth Use that David made of the Word of God was for ' Strength '. — In the twenty- eighth verse of this Psalm David's prayer to God is : ' Strengthen Thou me according to Thy word '. There are many places in the Bible in which God promises to give His people strength. One of the sweetest of these is found in the tenth verse of the forty-first chapter of Isaiah. Here God says, ' I will strengthen thee ; yea, I will help thee '. If we have the Lord Almighty for our Helper what is there that we cannot do ? The Apostle Paul said, ' I can do all things through Christ strengthening me '. And if we make a right use of God's word, to get the strength from it which it is designed to give, then, like David and St. Paul, we shall find it easy to do all that God tells us to do. Let us look at some examples of the strength and power that God's people have found in the word of God. And the first example furnished us here we find in the case of our blessed Saviour. There He is in the wilderness, for forty days to be tempted of Satan. And notice now the way in which He met tho.se temptations. As He was God He might have said to Satan at the beginning of those tempta- tions what He did say to him at the close of them ' Get thee hence, Satan ' ; and He would have been obliged to go. But He allowed Satan to go on tempt- ing Him, on purpose that He might show us how we must meet temptations so as to get the victory over them. Jesus did not get the victory over Satan by using the power that was in Him, as He was God. If He had done this He would have been no example to us. But He met all those temptations, and got the victory over them, simply by the strength which He found in the word of God. Every time that Satan came and tempted Him to do something that was wrong, Jesus quoted some passage of Scripture against him. 'It is written' — -'It is written' — 'It is written' — was His answer all the time. This gave Him the victory. And if we hope to get the victory over temptation, as Jesus did, we must do it in the same way. The strength to be found in the word of God is the only thing that can make us successful here. Here is a story which shows how a little boy found strength from the Bible to resist temptation. This boy's name was Billy Jones. He was a feeble- minded boy with very little education. His mother was a good Christian woman, though veiy poor. She had taught him a great deal about the Bible. He had committed the Ten Commandments to memory, and used to repeat them to his mother every Sunday. One day Billy was sent on a message to the house of Mr. Graham, who was the richest man in that neighbourhood. As he passed under the kitchen window he saw something bright and shiny lying in the grass. He picked it up and found it was a beautiful silver spoon. He had never had any silver in his hand before. He thought, for a moment, what nice things he might buy with it. But when he re- membered the eighth connnandment — ' Thou shalt not steal ' — he hid it away in the sleeve of his coat Then he went into the kitchen of Mr. Graham's house and delivered his message. After this he sisked to see Mrs. Graham. He was taken into the parlour, where Mrs. Graham was with some company. When she saw him she was astonished, and said : ' Well, my boy, and what do you want to-day ? ' Billy went up to her, and taking the spoon out of his sleeve put it in her hands, saying very slowly as he did so, ' Thou shalt not steal '. Mrs. Graham and her friends were greatly sur- prised. ' And pray where did you find the spoon, my little man ? ' asked Mrs. G. After a pause he said, ' Under the kitchen window — Billy found it. " Thou shalt not steal." ' Then the lady thanked him and gave him half a dollar as a reward for his honesty. When Mr. Graham heard of it he was so much interested in little Billy that he had him placed in an institution for the feeble-minded, where he was well taken care of and educated. Here we see how this boy found strength from the word of God to help him to do what was right. V. The fifth Use that David made of the Word of God was for ' Joy '. — In the fourteenth verse of this Psalm he says : ' I have rejoiced in the way of Thy testimonies as in all riches '. In the twenty- fourth verse he says : ' Thy testimonies are my delight '. In the fifty-fourth verse he says : ' Thy statutes have been my songs in the house of my pilgi-image '. And in the l62nd verse he says : ' I 315 Ver. 105. PSALM CXIX \'er. 105. rejoice at Thy word as one that findeth great spoil '. No stronger language could possibly be used to show what joy David found in the use of God's word than that which he here uses. And when the Apostle Paul declared that he ' counted all things but loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus,' he was only telling what joy he found in the word of God. And all who learn truly to understand the Bible find it to be in- deed the source of their highest joy. — Richaed Newton, Bible Models, p. 141. LIGHT FOR THE TRAVELLER 'Thy word is a li^ht unto ray feet, and a lamp unto my path.' — Psalm cxix. 105. I HAVE spoken to you about one ' means of grace,' as I called it. I am going now to speak to you about another. Many years ago 1 was crossing with two friends a lonely moor in one of the dreariest parts of the High- lands of Scotland. The road was quite strange to us, besides being a very rugged and steep one. The sun had not nearly set when we started, and we hoped to reach a distant town on the other side of the mountain by the help of the evening light. If that failed, by the aid of a crescent moon and stars. But ere the top of the pass was gained, star by star had faded from the sky and the rain came down in torrents. No house or cottage seemed near, and so intense did the darkness become that to proceed or to return were alike impossible. There was nothing for it but patiently to wait, through that wild night, in that wild place, for the coming dawn. After pausing for a time one other attempt was ventured upon, and we groped our way along the heath in hopes of hailing a light in some shepherd's hut or ' shieling '. Next day showed at what peril the effort had been made, owing to the deep holes and ' tarns ' which had been skirted, filled with stagnant water. It was, however, successful. A glimmering lamp was gladly hailed in a cottage window, and on reaching it it was found to be the keeper's lodge, the one only solitary dwelling for miles round. Late as it was we were kindly welcomed and generously provided with shelter till nest day. But for that light I know not what the risk would have been of remaining for hours exposed to the midnight storm. 1 You are, in another yet similar sense, travellers through a dark world. The Bible tells us that by nature we have ' all gone out of the way '. We are in darkness by reason of sin ; with bogs and pitfalls on every side. Do you remember what Jesus Him- self says ? You will find His words in John xi. 9, 10 : 'Jesus answered. Are there not twelve hours in the day ? If any man walk in the day he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of the world ; but if 1 It wa? a remarkable incident that the keeper and his family had gone to bed, and by a mere mistake had left the oil lantern burning in the tiny window. There are such things as are called ' little providences '. a man walk in the night he stumbleth, because there is no light in him.' We should be altogether be- nighted and bewUdered but for a precious Lantern — a Divine light which God has provided to ' guide our feet into the way of peace ' and on the road to heaven. Can you tell me what that light is ? Yes ; the text speaks of it. Our gracious Father has put a lamp in the window to help lost, belated travellers, and many have rejoiced in its light. It is the very same emblem St. Peter employs. In his second Epistle, second chapter and the nineteenth vei'se, he speaks of ' the sure Word . . . whereunto ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn, and the daystar arise '. What a glad and glorious radiance that lantern gives ! God has hung other lamps in His vast uni- verse to proclaim His power and wisdom. He has placed, as you know, a wonderous one in the very centre of what is called the solar system ; the glorious sun which rules the day. And with what a blaze of lovely smaller orbs He has studded the fu-mament ; the silver lamp of the moon, and the glittering crystal lamps of the stars. Aaron lighted every evening those in the Jewish Temple ; but they were nothing to these brilliant lights in the Great Temple of Night— For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made us is Divine. But the Bible is better than all these. I have com- pared them to silver lamps and crystal lamps ; I may well call the Bible a Golden one. Let me mention some rays which proceed fi'om it. It tells you first and chiefly about God — that He is your great and kind Father ; that He so loved our sinful world as to give His dear Son to die for it ; that though He hates sin, and is ' angry with the wicked every day,' yet that He pities and loves the sinner, and that it is not His will that so much as ' one of His little ones should perish ! ' It tells you about the future. It opens to you the very door of heaven, and shows you the many mansions of your Father's house. It tells you that if you love and serve Jesus here and do your Father's will, when you die these pearly gates will open wide, and you shall at once enter in through them and be happy for ever. It tells you that the grave is not the gloomy prison which the ancient heathen thought it to be. Rather that Jesus has taken its darkness away and made it a robing-room, where God's own children put on their white vestures before taking their places among the nmltitude which no man can number. What a soft and gracious light, too, this lantern sheds on ' the dark places ' of the road ; those times of sorrow and trial which so often come unexpectedly ! The sun sets calmly and there is no appearance of storm. But all at once the night surrounds us. The beautiful stars of life fade from view, and we walk in darkness and can see no light. Then it is that this 316 Ver. 105. PSALM CXIX Ver. 105. Holy Bible proves so precious. As with the sailor and his beacon, or with the miner and his safety-lamp, so it is when God's people are out in the starless sea or down in the deep mine of trial that they know the full value of their beacons and their lantern ; the liuht and consolation of this blessed Bihlo I — J. R. Macduff, Ilosannas of the Children, p. 80. THE WONDERFUL LAMP , ^i. Psalm cxix. 105. v" OyTE of the most famous stories in the world is about a lamp. I was as young as you when I first heard it. And to-day, speaking to you here, it all comes back to me. Aladdin, the ragged orphan boy, his poor hard-working mother, the magician selling his wares on the street, and the wonderful lamp ! One thing I well remember, that like every other good thing, it had to be brought up out of a deep place, and when it was found it was, to look at it, nothing but an old and common everyday lamp. And who that has once read the story can ever forget how the poor mother, rubbing it one day with sand to make it look bright, found out what sort of lamp it was, and what it could do for her boy and her ? It was a fortune to them. It gave them everything they wished. It brought food, clothes, money, and servants to Aladdin and his mother. It built houses for them ; brought them horses and carriages ; made friends for them ; put enemies away from them. And it opened to Aladdin the gates of the king's palace, made him a king's son, and at last a king. I remember, after I first heard the story, how I used to sit at the fireside and look at the coals burning in the grate, and at the flames turning and twisting about the bars, and far in among the flames and the glowing coal, at the strange houses, and fields, and trees, and faces, which boys are always seeing in the fire, and how I said to myself: 'Oh, for one other such lamp as Aladdin's, for a lamp that would make a king of me, or carry me like a bird over all the won- derful places of the earth ! ' And I dare say many another boy has been as simple as I and wished the same wish. I would not be sur- prised if there should be boys before me who have read the story and wished that wish, and wish it still, and over and over again wish it in the long winter evenings as they sit by the fire. I am sure there is many an intelligent boy in England, not so well off as you are, who has to rise early in the morning and go through the dark cold lanes to some factory, who has said to himself: 'Oh, for a lamp like Aladdin's, to put all this darkness and cold away and bring the factory a little nearer, and give me a little time for school, and warmer clothes, and a better dinner when I go home ! ' And that is not such a foolish wish as many people might suppose. It is not a mere dream, or a thing only to be found in a story. The Bible tells us of a lamp that will do for you .dl that Aladdin's did for him and more — a lamp which has been lighted in heaven and sent down to earth, which has liaht for hearts, and homes, and churches ; and something better than gold or silver, or houses and lands, or coaches and horses for ourselves ; which every boy and girl may have, which many a boy and gud already have. This is that lamp about which prophets and apostles so often speak, the wonder- working lamp of truth and life, which shines in the Word of God. Of the many wonders of this lamp I intend at present to speak only of one. And it is among the lowliest of them all. It is the wonder mentioned by King David in one of his Psalms : 'Thy word is a lamp unto my feet '. But I must first explain — How a Word can be a Lamp to one's feet. Seven hundred years ago all Europe was sending soldiers to Jerusalem to fight for the Saviour's grave. The lords of Jerusalem at that time wei'e fierce Saracens, who did not believe in Jesus. And the people of Europe said : ' Why should unbelievei-s like these be lords of the place where our Saviour lay ? ' Army after army went from England, France, and Germany. And sometimes they won, and some- times they lost. And when it was their lot to lose, they were seized, made prisoners, and sold as slaves. It happened in one of the battles that a young Englishman, named Gilbert a Becket, was taken prisoner and sold as a slave. He was sold to a rich and piincely Saracen, who set him to work in his garden. And there, as she took her daily walks in the garden, the daughter of his master saw him. And when she looked at his sad, but beautiful face, and remembered that he was a slave, first she wept for him and then she loved him ; and then she resolved to help him to escape. So one night she procured a little ship, and had it waiting near the shore, and she opened the door of a Becket's prison and gave him money, and said to him, ' Go back to England '. Now Gilbert had seen her love and return d it. And when he was going away, he said to her, ' You too will one day escape, and find your way to London, and there I will make you my wife '. And then he kissed her, and blessed her, and went out frea And he reached the little ship and found his way to Eng- land. But the Saracen maid remained in the East. Many a night she looked towards the sea, along the very path he went, and thought of him, and longed for him, and wept. She longed to be at hi.' side. But how was she to e.scape from home ? Hov> could she cross the seas ? How could she ever hope to an-ive in England? She could not speak tht English speech. The only words she knew were ' London a Becket'. X Becket had taught her thit much in the garden. At last she could remain no longer in the East. She would go to the Christian land and be a Chris- tian, and the wife of Gilbert a Becket. So one day she left her home and went to the sea, and to the English ships, and as she went .she said, ' Londo d Becket '. 317 Ver. 105. PSALM CXIX Ver. 113. She uttered these words, and rough sailors made room for her in their ships. ' London d, Becket,' she said, and ships hauled up their anchors and spread their sails and carried her through stormy seas. ' London d, Becket ! ' It was all she said, all she could say, but it went before her like a light, and made a path for her over the pathless deep ; and she followed it until her eye caught sight of the white cliffs of England, and her feet touched the sandy beach, and she was in the land of him she loved. She had far miles still to travel to reach London. And these were the old times when there were no railways, no coaches, not even roads. Old bad times, when robbers lived in dusky woods and bad men watched from grim stone castles that they might rob and kill the lonely travellers. But she went onwards. ' London' she said, ' London d Becket.' London was many miles away; but that word opened up a way to her, went before her, was coach and road and guide to her. It was a lamp to her feet. She uttered it as she was setting out every morning, and peasants tending their cattle on the heath pointed in the di- rection where London lay. The lamp went before her over hills and fields, and woods and streams, and brought her at last to the gates of London town. ' London a Becket,' she said, as she passed on through the streets. From street to street went this Eastern lady, from street to street, and from house to house, and still as she went she said, ' London a Becket '. Crowds gathered about her in the streets, and some wondered, and some mocked, tind some had pity ; but she made her appeal to the very crowds as she said, 'London a Becket '. The words were caught up by those who heard them and passed from lip to lip, and from street to street, until they filled the town, and searched out for her a Becket's house and brought her to his vei-y door. And then her long toil was ended. A Becket heard the well- known voice, and leaped and ran, and folded her to his bosom, and took her into his house, and made her his wife, and loved her with all his love. His word had been a lamp to her feet, and brought her to his side. She became the mother of the famous Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury. That is how a word may be a lamp to one's feet. And what I want to tell you now is, that we also, like that Eastern lady, have a word that is a lamp to the feet. A greater than Gilbert a Becket went to Jerusalem and was a prisoner there. And before he passed from His captivity He left a word with those that loved Him to be a lamp to their feet, to light up their path, that they might follow Him and arrive at His home, and live with Him for ever. It is of this word it is said, ' Thy word is a lamp to my feet '. And surely if the mere earthly word which that lady learned from an English soldier could light her steps from the farthest shores of the Mediterranean Sea to London, the heavenly, Divine word we have received from Jesus is better fitted to be a light to us for the paths which lead to Himself. The word of Christ in the Bible is this lamp. It is the lamp for our feet, to point out the roads we should avoid and the roads we should walk on. It is a lamp for the feet wherever you are, wherever you ai'e called to go, on whatever errand, with what- ever companions, and to whatever place. On the road to school, to church, to town, or to market. Alone, or with companions, this is the one true lamp for the feet. It is the lamp God has given us, to shine forward on every common path we are called to walk on here. And it is His lamp to light up the great high-road from earth to heaven. And this is no new lamp, new made for us, and for us only ; but an old, well-known, well-used lamp which men have had, in one form or another, from the very earliest times. It is as old as the days when God's Spirit firet spoke to men and man's spirit answered : ' Lord what wilt thou have me to do ? ' What was it which lighted Abraham all the way from Ur of the Chaldees to the land of promise ? It was the word which God spake to him in Ur. What showed Moses the way from Jethro's flocks in Midian to Egypt, and from Egypt to the Red Sea, and fi'om the Red Sea to Mount Pisgah ? It was the word which God taught him at the burning bush. What led David from the sheep-folds to the throne ? He tells us in a Psalm : ' Thy word I hid in my heart, that I might not offend against Thee '. It was of this word, hid in his heart, he says : ' Thy word was a lamp unto my feet '. — Alexander M.\cleod, Talk- ing to the Children (8th edition), p. 39. HATINQ VAIN THOUGHTS ' I hate vain thoughts.' — Psalm cxix. 113. What a very troublesome thing one's own little heart is ! Do you find it so ? would you like there to be a glass door, and somebody to look in to see what is going on, up and down your heart ? We can't, can we ? Sometimes when I have been walking in the country I have seen a fiat stone, and when I have looked under it I have seen a number of ants, and every one of them has a sting. Our hearts are something like that — if we were to take off the lid and look in. Did you ever read Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress ? One part of it is called 'The Dusty Parlour'. Clnis- tian was taken into the parlour — and a person there begins to sweep it ; and then such a number of little bits of dust fly about. Each little bit of dust is as nothing ; but altogether they make such a cloud ! Now ' our thoughts ' are such little things ; but they are very important. I wonder whether you are yet old enough to think about your 'thoughts'. A ' thought ' is a very important thing. I will tell you the reason why. Everything is first a ' thought ' be- fore it is anything else. I will tell you how it is. I will make a chain for you. You look at it Somehow or other, I don't know how, a little ' thought ' comes into your mind ; and you think it again ; and then it begins to get to feeling. It is no 318 Ver. 113. PSALM CXIX Ver. 113. longer a ' thought '. When you have felt it a few times then it becomes a wish ; and when you have wished it a good deal, then you do it ; and when you have done it once, you want to do it again ; and then it becomes a habit — a great, strong thing — a habit. St. James traces this in the Bible, about a bad ' thought '. A ' thought,' then, is a very important thing, because everything begins with a thought. I will tell you a second reason if you will try to understand me, because it is very difficult. You have a body ; and because you have a body, you think most of what you can see with your eyes, what you can hear with your ears ; or what you can touch with your hands. God has no body. ' God is a Spirit.' And for the same reason, because you think most of what you can hear, or see, or touch, so God thinks most of what He knows, because He is a Spirit. I believe God thinks more (not only as much, but more) about what we think, than about what we do. A spirit thinks about a spirit. I am sure He does. ' Thoughts ' are more important than words- — be- cause God always looks into the state of our heart- — why we do a thing, and why we say a thing. Those are my two reasons why ' thoughts ' are very import- ant ; and why we ought to think now a great deal about 'thoughts'. 'I hate vain thoughts.' What does it mean ? What ai'e ' vain thoughts ? ' Some may say, perhaps, ' It means a little girl who thinks much about her hair, or her ribbons, or her pretty face '. This is not what the word ' vain ' means in the Bible. There are three meanings to it. I. The first and chief meaning is empty. If you look in the Bible at all the places where ' vain ' or ' vanity ' occurs, you will find the meaning almost always is ' empty '. For instance, when Solomon says, ' Vanity of vanities, all is vanity ' — he means ' all is empty '. ' Empty thoughts.' Now I think there is a very large number of these — 'Empty thoughts' — nonsense. I do not expect — God does not expect — that every one has deep thoughts. We cannot always be thinking very wisely. There are times when it is all right to think about nonsense. We must play. But I mean when silly thoughts come when they ought not — when we are in church or when on our knees in prayer — when we ought to be thinking very differently, I can't say just what I mean ; but I speak of silly thoughts. I do not know whether I ever told you of a young Italian. He lived in the time of a very learned man, who was one of the tutoi's when this boy went to the University. He was full of the honour of going to a great school ; so he said to his tutor, ' Sir, I am come to this University to become a great lawyer. I shall work very hard, and pass my examination, take a de- gree, be a doctor of laws, and become very learned.' ' What then ? ' said the tutor. ' Why, I shall have to take cases when I am a lawyer.' 'What then?' ' I shall have to make clever speeches.' ' What then ? ' ' Perhaps I shall be a judge. ' ' What then ? ' ' Why, I shall make a great fortune, live in a fine house, and be thought rich.' ' What then ? ' 'I shall live to a comfortable old age.' ' What then ? ' ' Then I shall die.' ' And what then ? ' 'What then?' He could not answer. Then he thought how silly and vain were his thoughts, thinking nothing of eternity. Thus I have told you of vain, empty thoughts. II. Then the next kind are proud 'thoughts'. There are some places in the Bible whei-e I think ' vain ' means proud. One is in 2 Peter n. 18, 'For when they speak great swelling words of vanity '. This refers to vain fellows, proud fellows. When once pel-sons begin to be proud, there is scarcely anything in the world too insignificant to be proud of It is quite astonishing what little things persons begin to be proud of. A great traveller was journeying in Africa, and he went to see a man who was an African chief He had little bits of metal hung down from the lower lip and from his nose ; and a great feather behind his ears ; he owned a little bit of land, and governed a few people, who called him 'chief. When the African traveller entered his dwelling, the chieftain said to him, ' What do they think of me in Europe ? ' You see when people begin to be proud, they will be proud of anything. III. Now I will tell you of another kind of ' vain thoughts,' i.e. really wicked ' thoughts '. Thoughts that lie ; that plan wicked things. Look at Pro- verbs XIII. 11, 'Wealth gotten by vanity' — i.e. by flattering, by lying — ' shall be diminished '. Will you look at Proverbs xxx. 8, ' Remove far from me vanity and lies '. ' Vain thoughts ' are fal.se thoughts. I will tell you how a Christian feels about these 'thoughts'. He can't bear them. They trouble him exceedingly. If you are really religious you will care now more about the ' thought ' than you once did about doing the thing. If a wicked thought comes into your mind it will make you blush and feel ashamed, which before would not have made you the least uncomfortable. Perhaps, somewhere or other, you heard a wicked word, a silly word, a loose song ; and it comes into your mind ; and, if you are a child of God, you hate it. It is always the sign of a Christian. There was a little girl (I like to explain what I mean by telling you of somebody who has felt the same) of the name of Alice. She was generally very good and happy. One day, if you had seen her, you would not have thought anything was the matter : but there was. When she went to bed her mamma was not able, as usual, to undress her, but told her sister Sarah to do so. Little Alice exclaimed, ' Oh, Sarah, I wish mamma were here. I want her particularly.' As she continued very unhappy little Sarah fetched her mamma, who asked her ' what was the matter ? ' She replied, ' I am very miserable : I killed Ruth in my heart. I thought I wished she was dead ; and I am just as guilty before God as if I had killed her'. She continued, 'Oh, mamma, what shall I do ? ' She was told to dress and go and ask Ruth's forgiveness. She did so ; and coming home again, prayed God to 319 Ver. 113. PSALM CXIX Ver. 113. forgive her for the wicked thought. She went then to bed and was happy. But she felt as much about a ' thought ' as some of us feel about actions. ' I hate vain thoughts.' Sometimes wicked thoughts will come into our minds. I don't know whether the devil puts them there or we put them there. If we do not mind their being there, then we are wicked. But to a Christian person it may be a comfort to know that there is not a Christian in the world who is not troubled with them. They come just when we most wish to be good. They will come ; but if you do not indulge them, it does not matter. God won't be angry with us then. This is what Paul meant, ' If I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me '. Which is the strongest door in the house ? Is not the front door thicker than the parlour door ? Are not there bolts and a strong lock because it is the front door, that no one may come in we do not like ? Do with your heart as you do with your house : have a good strong door, very thick, with locks and bolts. Do not let wicked thoughts come in. Be determined about it. Say ' they shan't come in '. Keep watch day and night. — James Vaughan. LOVING THE LAW ' But thy law do I love.' — Psalm cxix. 113. I AM going to speak about two things : first, about loving the whole Bible, and then about loving the law — ' Thy law do I love '. I. First I am nderful still. He is in the secret places of the heart, both of grown-up people and of children. Away in, away down in the soul, where thoughts arise before they come up to be shaped into words in the mouth — even there, God is present. But that is more than a wonderful fact. It is also a very solemn fact. It is solemn to think that there is no place, seen or unseen, where evildoers can do evil and not be seen by God. No darkness so dark, no shadow so deep, no distance so ^reat where God is not, and in which God does not see what is done. When Judas went out from the supper-chamber to sell his Lord it was already dark. Would he have gone out into the darkness to do his evil deed if he had remembered and felt that the eyes of God were upon him ? Those eyes beheld him leaving the room. Those eyes followed him along the dark streets. Those eyes saw him taking the thirty pieces of silver, and those eyes were full upon him afterwaids when he came into the garden with the men who were sent to lay hold on Jesus, and pointed Him out by a traitor's kiss. But it is more than a wonderful or awful fact. It is also a very blessed and very helpful fact. It is a part of the glad tidings concerning God of which the Bible is full. What a happy thing it is to be living in a world where we cannot find a place where our best Friend is not present ! But this is one of the lessons which a child may learn in a wrong way, and I will tell you of a young- American girl who learned it in this wrong way. She thought of God's being everywhere as a terror. She was filled with fear by it. If she went into a dark room He was there ; or along a dark road He was there. She was afraid to be left alone in her bed- room at night, under the terror of the thought that He also was in the room. That was in the days of the good Dr. Nettleton, and it was the good hap of this little girl to be brought into friendly talk with him. He told her that God was a Father, the best Friend that a child could have ; that He loved chil- dren, and that He had given a great proof of His love in sending His Son to die for them. And all the terror went out of the little heart, and joy and trust came into its place. She was no longer afraid to lie downi at nit;ht, or to be in a dark place alone. ' \ly Father is here,' she would sav to herself, 'and He is here and everywhere to bless and hilp His children.' God is everywhere. From His presence who can flee ? If we ascend to heaven He is thei e. If we take the wings of the morning and dwell in the utter- most parts of the sea, we shall hear His voice, and the sense of His presence shall be in our hearts. II. In Dark Places — But perhaps the deepest, innermost lesson of the Psalm is a lesson for evil days. Days of that kind seem far from you just now. They will not always be far. In every life some days will be dark and dreary. Into every life, in one form or other, trouble will fall. When the evil days come to you, may you be able to recall this lesson. God is near to us, both in evil places and in evil days. He is in the deepest darkness into which we can be plunged. There is no place or time, however dark, in which His ear is not open to our cry. If every- thing else that is gladsome should be taken out of your life, this can never be taken out of it. If one were to say, looking at his troubles, 'Surely the dark- ness shall cover me,' even the night shall be light for such an one. But though I am saying this, I know that it is a lesson much easier to speak about than to let into the heart. Nobody in great trouble finds it easy at first. And I am sure there are times and places so dark that only God Himself can help us to think of God. That was what I felt one day when I was visiting the great round castle at Lancaster, which was once the home of its mighty dukes. I saw one place in that castle which filled me with horror. It was the place in which the dukes had kept their prisoners. It is a dungeon, deep down under the castle floor. It has neither window, nor fireplace, nor bench to sit on, nor bed. The walls, the roof, the floor, are stone. And in the centre of the floor is a great ring of iron, to which the miserable prisoners were wont to be fastened with chains, as one would fasten a dog. It went like ice through my blood, as I stood in that dismal place with only the light of a candle to show the gloom, to think of human beings, men or women, rich or poor, led down into that terrible room, chained to that ring of iron, and left there, as in a grave, without light of sun or star, without coal or candle, without the company of friends, without a single being to speak a kind word to them, without hope, except the sad hope of being taken out some morning to be put to death. I said to myself : ' Did ever prisoners shut up in this dungeon find comfort in thinking that God was present ? Did the cry of the afflicted ever ascend from here ? And did God answer that cry ? Did He come near to the prisoners ? Did He turn the darkness into light for any of them ? The answer which came to me was that God had many times turned the darkness into light for prisoners in dungeons as dark and terrible even as the one in which I stood. Into a dungeon more terrible than that — fouler, more loathsome, and filled with crawling venomous creatures — the great prophet Jeremiah was once thrown by his enemies. There was not even a stone floor there. His enemies meant him to sink in that horrible pit and in the miry clay which was its floor. He sank. The foul waters rose up about him. He said to himself: It is the end of my life. I am cut off". But then he called upon the name of God ; 327 Vv. 1-12. PSALM CXXXIX Ver. 12. and he did not call in vain. Telling the story after- wards in thankfulness to God, he said : ' I called upon Thy name, O Lord, out of the low dungeon. Thou didst hear ray voice. Thou drewest near in the day that I called upon Thee. Thou saidst, Fear not.' And the prophet ceased to fear. By his presence God turned the very darkness of the dungeon into light. III. In a Hospital. — I will only mention one other place where God is present. Were you ever taken to see a children's hospital ? Did you enter the large room filled with tiny beds and see the sick and hurt children lying on the beds in sore trouble and crving out with pain ? I was reading a ballad yesterday by our great poet Tennyson, about a hospital of that kind, in which it is shown how there also, to help the little sufferers, the loving God is present. One day the kind old doctor of the hospital brought in a clever young doctor to see a little boy who had been crushed by the wheels in a mill. And this young doctor said, ' He will never get better '. The nurse said, ' Oh, but we shall pray to the good Lord Jesus for him '. At that the clever young doctor said, half to her and half to himself, ' Praying to the good Lord Jesus cannot set a broken bone, and the good Lord Jesus has had His day '. He meant that there was no good Lord Jesus in hospitals to help the sick and the wounded, or to hear prayer on their be- half The only helper in hospitals, according to him, was the clever doctor. Now that was an evil thought to think and an evil word to say, and it was none the less evil that it was thought and said by a clever doctor. That vexed the nurse, who loved her little patients and prayed for them to Christ. There was at that time in the hospital a dear little girl called Emmie, and she was very ill indeed. But it was her good fortune to have this nurse, who prayed to Jesus for the little ones who were ill. By and by the time came when the old doctor must try whether little Emmie could be healed. There was only one chance. He must cut away something that was keeping her from being well. But as he looked at her on the little bed, so white, so thin, so wasted, he said to the nurse, thinking the child to be asleep, 'I must try to do it, but I really do not think she will live through it '. Poor Emmie was not sleeping; and when nurse and the doctor left she told Annie, who was lying in the next bed, what the old doctor had said, and asked her what she should do. Annie said, 'If I were you, dear Emmie/ ' I should cry to the dear Lord Jesus To help me ; for, Emmie, you see, It's all in the picture there : "Little children should come unto Me".' But Emmie said, ' How is Jesus to know ? there are so many beds in this ward '. That was a puzzle for Annie ; Again she considered, and said, ' Emmie, you put out your arms. And you leave them outside on the bed. The Lord has so much to see to ; But, Emmie, you tell Him it plain. It's the little girl with her arms Lying out on the counterpane.' So Emmie did that She cried to Jesus to help her, and she kept her arms out on the counterpane. And the good nurse prayed and watched — watched so long and so many nights that she was nearly ill herself with watching. But at last the morning came when the old doctor was to apply his knife to the child. The nurse had been dreaming that morn- ing, she said : — ' My sleep was broken besides With dreams of the dreadful knife. And fears for our delicate Emmie, Who scarce could escape with her life. ' Then in the grey of the morning, It seemed she stood by me and smiled ; And the doctor came in at his hour. And we went to see to the child. ' He had brought his ghastly tools ; He believed her asleep again ; Her dear, long, lean little arms Lying out on the counterpane. ' Say that Christ's day is done ! Ah, why should we care what they say? The Lord of the children had heard her. And Emmie had passed away.' Now that is the lesson I wish to leave with you to-day. In the sorest trouble, in the deepest dark- ness, in the worst of evil days, God will be near to His children and will hear their cry. — A. Macleod, The Children's Portion, p. 1 33. LIGHT AND DARKNESS Psalm cxxxix. 12. When we wish to say that two things are as different as possible, we often say, ' They are as different as light from darkness '. We cannot fancy any two things more unlike than light and darkness. And yet the Bible says both are alike to God. 'The darkness and the light are both alike to Thee.' They make a wonderful difference to us ! During the long days and short nights of .summer, when it is never 'pitch dark, we could manage tolerably with- out lamps or candles ; but in the short days and long nights of winter, what should we do if we could not make a sort of artificial day with our candles and lamps ? All work would have to cease, indoors and out. There could be no night-trains, nor any kind of night travelling, except on moonlight nights ; no evening services, or lectures, or concerts, or parties ; no pleasant reading aloud, or looking at pictures, or amusements of any sort that need light to see what we are doing, after the dark evenings set in. We should be like the Egyptians, when they sat still in the darkness ; or should have to grope about like blind people. But ' the darkness hideth not from ' God ; but ' the night shineth as the day ; the darkness and the light are both alike ' to Him. How can this be ? Think, 328 Ver. 12. PSALM CXXXIX Ver. 23. first of all, of what use light is to us ; what do we want it for ? We want it to see by. But what do we see with ? Our eyes. Light would be useless to us without eyes. A blind man can see no better at noon than at midnight. Well ; who gave us our eyes ? God. Who made the ligbt ? God. ' God said, Let there be light, and there was light.' Then, you see, God has no need of eyes to see with, else He could not have made our eyes, and the eyes of birds, and beasts, and fishes, and insects. ' He that formed the eve, shall He not see ? ' (Ps. xciv. 9). And God has no need of light to see by, else He could not have made the light. No I God sees all things, not with eve.s, but in His own mind and thought ; not by the light of the sun, or moon, or stars, or flames, or light- nintr, all of which He has created ; but by the light of His own eternal wisdom. ' God is light, and in Him is no dai'kness at all' (1 John l 5). The dark side of our world, where it rolls into its own shadow, which we call ' night ' ; the bottom of the deep ocean, where no light can penetrate ; the dark inside of the earth, to its very centre, are all as plain to Goii's sight as the fields, and hills, and sea, with the sunshine on them. The tiny creatures that you may see through the microscope, but which are quite invisible without a lens, and the very atoms of which they are made— God sees them all. He sees those stars which are so far off that we can only see them as tiny sparks through a powerful telescope, but which are really mighty suns and worlds ; for He made them, and He is there as much as here. More than all this : God sees our thoughts. If you have a secret that you keep hidden so close in the darkness of your mind that no one guesses it, not even your mother or fathei', brother or sister, yet God sees it ' Neither is there any creature that is not manifest in His sight ; but all things are naked and open unto the eyes of Him with whom we have to do' (Heb. IV. 13). What may we learn from this ? First, God can always take care of you. Children are often afraid of the dark, even though they know that darkness cannot hurt them. One reason is, that they cannot see anything to make them sure where they are, and perhaps feel as if they had forgotten, or as if they might be somewhere else, they know not where. I think even a grown-up person might feel afraid if he were in pitch darkness and did not at all know where he was. Another reason is, that in the dark we can fancy all sorts of things ; and perhaps you are half frightened at your own fancies, though you know they are nothing real. Well, then, remember that God is as much with you and takes as much care of you in the dark as in the light. The darkness and the light are both alike to Him. When I was a boy, my father used to tell us a story of one of those good men who were called ' the ejected ministei-s,' because they were turned out of their homes and churches, and even forbidden by the Government and by Parliament to [ireach anywhere. A cruel law was made that they must not come within five miles of a town. But those good men knew that ' we must obey God rather than men ' ; so they went on preaching whenever they could, secretly, in out-of-the-way places. Well, one of these good men was coming home late one night after preaching. There was a thick fog, and it was very dark ; and he found that he had strayed out of the road. Suddenly he thought he heard a voice behind him. ' 8top ! ' He stopped, and listened, but all was still So he went on a few steps ; and then he heard the voice louder and nearer, ' Stop ! ' He stopped, and called out, ' Who are you ? Who is there ? ' But there was no reply. So at last he was going on again, when the voice came a third time, louder still, as if quite near, ' Stop ! ' He shouted again, but no one answered. He took his jiocket- knife out of his pocket, opened it, and stuck it into the ground. Then he groped his way to a hedge or bush which he could dimly see through the mist, prayed to God, and lay down and slept. When he woke the night and the fog were gone, and the sun was shining. He went to look for his knife, and soon found it, sticking where he had left it. And what else do you think he found ? A yard or two farther on a deep pit or quarry ; so that if God had not caused him to hear the voice, and if he had not obeyed it and stopped just when he did, he would have walked over the edge and been killed. So that was how God took caie of His servant in the dark. The other lesson is this : Remember that God always sees you — in the dai'kness as much as in the light ; sees your secret thoughts as much as your out- ward actions. Beware of anything, even a thought, that you would wish to hide from Him. People often do wicked things which they would not dare to do, or would be ashamed to do, if they did not hope to hide them from everybody. But there is no hiding from God. And remember, no sin, ' nothing that defileth, or maketh a lie,' can enter into that Beauti- ful City of which we read that ' There shall be no night there '. Read Revelation, chapter xxi. verses 23-27. — E. R. CoNDEE, Drops and Rocks, p. 243. LOVERS OF SUNLIGHT (Esto sol testis) ' Search me, O God, and know my heart : try me, and know my thoughts.' — Psalm cxxxix. 23. I CAN remember when I was a little boy one of my great treats was to visit a certain building in ray native city in which was situated what was called a ' Camera obscura '. One entered a dark room and looked down upon a circular surface of white cloth like a magic lantern screen, whereon, by an arrange- ment of mirrors, a reflection was thrown of the scenes going on around in the city streets below. It seemed so curious to watch all these people going about doing their work, amusing themselves, meeting one another, entering their shops and houses, chatting and laughing gaily in the street — to see, in short, the hundred and one incidents of daily life, and yet to know that none of them were aware that they 329 Ver. 23, PSALMS CXXXIX., CXLVII Ver. 2. were being watched by those who stood within the little tower. It was the sun that enabled us to be such spies upon the doings of our fellows ; the sun was the witness that disclosed to us all their move- ments. But science has discovered that the sun can do much more wonderful things than that ; the whole art of photography has simply been the power of using the sun's skill as an artist to draw pictures for us more accurate and beautiful than any we could draw for ourselves. The light of the sun is so pene- trating that it can reveal many things our eyes could never discover ; thus you have no doubt heard that the photographer's plate has revealed the existence of many stai-s that the eye of the most skilful as- tronomer had never seen, and each one of these stars is just a far off sun. Again, some of you girls know how impossible it is to match the shades of ribbons or silks in any light other than that the sun affords, how clearly he brings out the delicate distinctions, and makes clear the subtlest difference of colour. You have noticed too, how, when you are in a room into which the sun's rays are pouring, you can see myriads of tiny little specks dancing in the sunbeams. These were there all the while ; the air was laden with the dust and other particles of matter, but you could not see them : it was the sun that disclosed their presence. Now, nothing beautiful need be afraid of the sunlight ; the lovely things only become more lovely when he shines upon them ; but those which cannot boast of beaut v may well seek to hide themselves from his tell-tale glance, for he will only make their ugliness the more manifest. The motto, then, that I have chosen must be that of a very brave man, for it con- tains the prayer that the sun himself may be my witness. Now, nobody dare use these words unless he was conscious that there was nothing he need fear to be disclosed in his life. I have heard a terrible story of how once some one took a photograph of the great Falls of Niagara, and when the picture was finished there was visible in the midst of the boiling torrent the body of a drowned man. No human eye had been able to see it, but the penetrating glance of the sun revealed it. There is only one light stronger than that of the sun, and this is the light of God. The prayer of the old Hebrew poet that I have set alongside the motto is even a braver one than that of the motto itself. He prays that God may look into his heart and test his inmost thoughts. Now, would you and I be willing to let God do that ? When the sun shines into a room and shows up the dust and the untidiness that have been hidden perhaps for years, it is only helpful if some one immediately sets about making the room clean and fresh and arranging all its furniture and pictures, so that once more it may become a jov to live in it ; and when the light of God is permitted to shine into our hearts He shows us so much that is wrong, sinful, and selfish that it will only be a blessing to have that light shining there if we are ready to have God at the same time help us to make our heart clean and pure. We need the light to show us what is wrong as well as what is right, but once we have seen the evil it must be our task to set ourselves to remove it, and once God has showai us the fair order in which He would have the room of our life set, we must ask His help to make it as beautiful as He wishes it to be. The sun is a universal witness. It is not possible to escape his rays anywhere on the surface of this earth of ours. He may hide himself for a time, as in the long night of the Arctic winter, or on occasion storm-clouds may obscure his face, but he is always there ready to reveal whatever he shines upon. I remember being gi-eatly impressed by a sundial in the public park at Baltimore. It was so cleverly arranged that when the sun's rays fell upon it the shadow not only told the time at that one place in America, but the numerous other angles of the dial — like the facets of a gem — enabled one to know the hour at many far-distant cities of the world. The one sun gave all these different results — effected these widely varying records. So the light of God is the great univereal recorder. In one case it comes to disclose a life in agreement with itself, guided by the precepts of His testimonies, obedient to the utter- ances of His will. At other times the light of God's word breaking in upon a life shows such ugliness and shame that it almost drives the one who sees it to despair. Many of us belong to Scripture reading unions of one kind or another. These are excellent, and should prove of great help to us, but the matter of main importance is to store up the words in our hearts and live by them. We must let the light shine clearly in that we may see all that is wrong, and try to set it right. God's book has counsel for every difficulty, a cure for every wrong. We need never remain in doubt as to our course of conduct, if we will only consult it and have the courage and faith to obey and follow its direction. — G. Currie Martin, Great Mottoes with Great Lessons, p. 136. THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW ' He giveth snow like wool.' — Psalm cxlvii. 2. It is well for us to remember that God giveth the snow, and that because it is a Divine gift it must be a good one. I have no doubt that you children feel no diffi- culty in believing that the snow is a good gift. There are so many joys for you connected with it ; but poor people, who have no fire upon their hearth, find it difficult sometimes to accept the snow with thankful- ness. Now I want to show this morning that the snow is one of the many good gifts of God. The Psalmist says that He giveth it like wool. Of course, we all know that wool is a Divine gift, for it clothes the sheep and keeps them warm during hard wintry weather. It is, moreover, used up by men and con- verted into cloth, which keeps us warm on wintry days. The wool is thus a Divine gift for the warmth it gives. ' But, surely,' says some one, ' the snow is not like the woo! in that respect ; the snow is cold.' Now, I want to show you that even in this the snow- is very much like wool. Ver. 2. PSALM CXLVII Ver. 16. I. It Preserves Warmth.— You must remember that God not only clothes us and the sheep, but also clothes the earth. He gives it one suit in summer and another in winter ; and the snow is its winter suit, which it wears when the withering east winds blow and hard frost prevails. The farmer would look with grave anxiety indeed on weeks of frost before a fall of snow ; whereas he has no fear of it when once the snow has fallen. He knows full well that hard frost kills the roots and young growths which are unprotected by snow, but that when the snow falls it shields vegetation. Now, snow, like wool, is a bad conductor of heat. In other words, it does not pass off the heat or let it escape. That is the reasoti why cotton garments are so much colder than woollen clothing, just because wool keeps in the heat of the body, while the cotton lets most of it escape. The snow is like wool in that respect; it is a bad conductor; it w'ill not let heat escape, but keeps the little that is in the earth, and shields plants from the cold biting wind that is blow- ing, and the hard frost of fifteen or twenty degrees that is on the surface of the snow. God sends the snow as a winter blanket for the earth. The earth may be said to be practically asleep in winter ; that is, it is not actively engaged in producing life and growth. That is the season when it rests. God then .says, ' I must take care of the earth when it is asleep. The spring is coming when it must be fresh and \'igorous. It should therefore have a good sleep now. It is going to be a cold day ; but I will send a blanket of snow to cover the earth, so that it shall be warm.' Thus God gives the snow like wool. It does not warm you, but it warms the earth, or at least keeps it warm. And, after all, warmth is a relative term. If you were to put one hand into very hot water and another in snow, and keep them there for a little time, and then put both hands into tepid water, the hand that has been in the hot water will feel the tepid to be cold, while the hand that has been in the snow will feel that it is quite warm. So what is cold to you is warm to the earth. Besides, snow makes it warmer even for men in cold districts, and protects them from keen frost. There are a little people called Esquimaux, who live very far north, who kno" the value of snow in cold wintry days. They build houses of snow, and live in them, because they shelter them from the keen winds and biting frosts. Dr. Nansen, I have no doubt, will be sheltered by the snow when icebound. So that in this respect, as a preserver of heat — the most unlikely of all at first sight — God gives ' snow like wool '. Again, He sends it like wool, because II. It is Woolly or Fleecy in Appearance. — You saw the snow come down a day or two ago. It came down in flakes. Oh ! how beautiful they were ; and the dogs looked up and snapped at them in play, and every one rejoiced. Little baby boy, who had not seen a snowstorm before, was simply delighted as he saw the flakes dance in the air ere they fell to the ground. They looked so much like little pieces of wool. Indeed, the ancients used to call the snow 'woolly water' — that is, water putting on the form of wool. ' He giveth snow like wool.' Drapers and clothiers sometimes try to imitate snow at this time of the year in dressing their shop wijidows. When they want to picture a snowstorm thev take wool, or rather cotton wool, which is cheaper, and throw little bits of it here and there to look like snow. Their windows are thus made to resemble a wintry scene. Then, again, the snow is like wool, because III. It is White. — Indeed, it is far whiter than wool. How bright the earth is when the snow covers it ! I know of nothing more beautiful and charmingly pure. Those who live in towns get so accustomed to dirt that it is a treat to see something that is not dirty in the beautiful snow as it first falls upon the land. On the other hand, there are few things more sad than to see the snow trodden under foot. That is not God's idea of snow, but is snow as polluted by the foot of man. So white is the snow that the Psalmist could think of nothing as white — ' Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow'. Everything — even the purest linen — looks dirty by the beautiful snow as it falls from the heavens. The Psalmist, sinful as he was, longed to be even whiter than snow. Where God forgives He cleanses. Blessed is the soul that, being cleansed, is made whiter than snow. This Jesus does for all who seek to be forgiven thi'ough His sacrifice and intercession for us. — David Davies, Talks with Men, Women, and Children, (6th Series), p. 12. THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW ' He giveth snow like wool. ' — Psalm cxlvii. i6. What a wonderful change a fall of snow makes in the appearance of the country ! We wake up some winter's morning, and look out of our windows, and how lovely everything appears ! It is just as if some fairy with her magic wand had been touching the country and sprinkling it with the loveliest jewels. The dark road with its muddy ruts is all covered with a carpet, softer and whiter than the finest wool ; the brown branches of the trees look as if they were covered with the finest, costliest lacework, studded with diamonds all sparkling in the morning sun. And how beautiful the fields are in their snowy winter dress ! Just as if God had been making them into playgrounds for bands of angel children. If you look at a single snowflake through a microscope, you see fresh beauties in the snow ; for each flake is a perfect crystal with six rays standing out from the centre in the most regular way ; and this hidden beauty of the snow reminds us, I think, of some people's lives ; it is only the eye of God which sees all their beauty and counts all the kind and gentle deeds which make them so pleasing to Him. But the pure white snow speaks to us, too, of the blood of Jesus Christ which cleanses our hearts, washes away our sins, and makes us clean and pure in the sight of God. With what silence the snow has done its work ; 331 Ver. 16. PSALM CXLVIl Yer. lb. with busy but noiseless fingers it has been clothing the earth in its lovely dress. You heard no noise in the night, and yet in the morning the wondrous change was there. And doesn't this silent working of the snow speak to us of God's Holy Spirit ? With- out sign or observation It comes into our hearts, and changes the bad temper, stills the angry passion, removes the evil desire, and gradually purifies our natures and builds the soul into a beautiful Temple fit for God to dwell in. Let us ask that Holy Spirit to do for us what the snow does for all it falls upon. But, you may ask, is snow any good ? It is very beautiful to look at, but is it of any use ? We can understand the good of rain, but what about the snow ? Yes, that is of great service too. In the Psalm it says, ' He giveth snow like wool '. Snow looks like wool, and it is useful like wool. We wear woollen clothes, and cover ourselves at night with woollen blankets, to prevent the heat escaping from our bodies. It isn't that the woollen dress gives us warmth, but it is the best thing for keeping the heat in our bodies ; and just in the same way the snow keeps the heat of the soil in the earth, and so keeps alive the seeds which have been sown in it. It is the snow which prevents the frost from killing the corn which has been sown in the autumn, and preserves it until the smiles of spring entice it to spring up from the bosom of the earth. Of course it isn't often that our country needs this snow covering for the fields, as the winters are not very severe in England ; but in some countries like Canada, where the cold is ex- ceedingly intense, if it were not for the winter snow, the plants in the earth would be, as we say, ' frozen to death '. And if we were to go to Greenland where the Esquimaux live, we should find that they build their winter huts of great blocks of hardened snow. Snow is useful, too, in another way. You know the sun draws up water from the sea in the shape of vapour or mist ; the wind carries these vapour clouds far inland and they fall on the mountian tops in the form of snow, and, when this snow melts, it runs down the mountain sides in little streams or rivulets, and these flow together and make one big river. In some countries where the sun is intensely hot and very little rain falls, if it were not for these snow-made rivers, the land would become so parched that nothing would grow, and human life couldn't exist. So we may say that the little flakes of snow, as they fall and cover the earth with such a beauti- ful mantle, speak to us of the wisdom and love of God, and as they praise Him by being useful, so they teach us to make our lives useful too. And as each silvery flake comes from the sky it tells us to look up to God and adore Him Who made both us and it. Look again at these tiny snowfl.uk8s ! how soft and delicate they are ! You would never think there was much force in them. But just see how much strength they have when a great many are packed close to- gether. You see that great branch lying on the ground ? It has been broken off' the tree simply by the weight of the snow resting on it. Or look at that engine how powerful it is ! How it tears along, making such a fuss and noise ; it seems as if nothing would stop it ! And yet we sometimes read that little flakes of snow have blocked up a train and prevented it from going on. Sometimes people can't travel in this country in winter, the snow has completely covered up the roads. Again, you read in the newspapers that some village, it may be in Switzerland, has been quite destroyed bv an avalanche. That is, a great mass of snow has rolled down some mountain-side with such tremendous force that everything which stood in the way has been destroyed. Here was a forest, there some huge rocks, yonder a pretty village nestling at the foot of the mountain — but now all has disap- peared. The mighty avalanche has torn up and swept away with it whatever stood in its track. I suppose you have all heard of Napoleon's in- vasion of Russia. When he entered that country his army numbered nearly seven hundred thousand men, but only twenty-five thousand came back from it. What had become of the rest ? Had they fallen in battle ? Some of them, but the snow was their worst enemy ; it was that which made the expedition so terribly fatal. Can we learn anything from the power of the snow ? Yes, if we will. vVe may leam that union is strength — the force doesn't lie in each particular snowflake, but in a number all added together. One by itself is as soft and gentle as down ; add millions together, and their power is almost irresistible. You remember Chri.st's prayer for His disciples? He prayed that they might be ' one '. That is, work together in love with united hearts and strength. And that is what all Christian people should try to do, if they want to be useful in the world. Let us then try to leam these lessons which the tiny snowflakes teach us ; and whenever we walk abroad and see the wonders in the earth and sky, let us think how wonderful God is, Who made them all, and try to love and serve Him better than we have ever done before. The sun, moon and stars ; the flowers, the snow- flakes and drops of rain, all do His will ; let us try and imitate them. They are only His servants, but we are His children. — R. G. Soans, Sermons for the Young, p. 181. THE THAW Psalm cxlvii. i8. You have seen the long hard frost go away. The hard ground grew soft, the snow vanished, and the gi-ass-plots, and fields, and hills looked green once more ; the fi-ozen rivers flowed, the water dripped from the roofs and ran along the roadside, and a thousand rills and waterfalls streamed down from the moors and craggy fells. How did it happen ? Why did the frost go, and the thaw come ? 332 Ver. 18. PSALMS CXLVIL, CXLVIII Ver. 12. Two very different answers might be given to this question, yet they are both true. We might say : ' It was becatise the air grew wann ; a warm wind blew from the Atlantic Ocean instead of a cold wind from the great ice-fields at the North Pole ; and so the ice and snow were melted '. Or we might say : ' It was because God pleased. He sent the frost, and when He saw good He sent the thaw.' Now look at the eighteenth verse of the 147th Psalm, and you will find both these reasons given : ' He causeth His wind to blow, and the waters flow '. I. There are two lessons taught in these words. I am not quite sure if I can make the first of them plain to you. It is this : Qod Works by Means. — Perhaps you say, ' I don't understand '. Well, I dare say some of you remember that when the snow lay thick on the ground you brought in a cup- ful to melt. Now suppose you had set the cup on a table and said, ' Snow, melt ! ' would it have obeyed your command and melted ? No. If it had, we should have said, ' It is a miracle ! ' What did you do ? You put the cup before the fire, and the heat melted the snow, and it turned to water. That is what we call using means — taking the right way to do things. Now God knows how to do everything, and the means He used to melt the i'rost away was to let the wai'ni wind blow. Did He use any means to make the wind warm, and to make it blow ? Yes. The sun warmed the air near the middle of the earth (between the Tropics, you know), so that it rose up, and the cold air came flowing from the North Pole to fill its place ; and the warm air flowed towards the North Pole, and some of it came streaming down on England — a mild south-west wind — and brought the thaw. But why or how it is that the cold north- east wind blows one day and the warm south-west the next — that is what even our wisest men cannot tell. God knows ; and when He pleases, it is so. But now see the difference between God's way of working and ours. You put the snow in the cup, and put the cup near the fire ; that was all. You did not make the cup, or the earth the cup was made of, or the coal, or even the fireplace. You did not make tlie snow, with its lovely tiny white crystals, or give power to the waraith to turn it into water ; nor did you make the coal able to burn, or the flame able to give heat. But God made all these. We can only use the means God has given us. God makes all the means, and then uses them as He sees good. And if we ask, ' When did God begin to get ready to make the thaw come?' we must answei-, ' When He made the earth, and the sun, and the water of the sea, from which the clouds are bred, and made it the nature of water to tm-n into ice and snow with cold, and to melt back to water when the warm air breathes on it '. God is not obliged to work by means. It would be foolish to think so. Sometimes, as we learn fi'om the Bible, He is pleased to work miracles, j ust to show us His power, and teach us that all things obey His will. But that is very seldom. Most things God does by using the proper means ; not because He is oblired, but because it is the best and wisest plan, and He has made all things on purpose. II. Then the second lesson this verse teaches us is that all Things do God's Will, just as much as if He did everything by miracle. Read verses 15, 16, 17, 18. Notice it is 'His ice,' 'His cold,' 'His wind'. All belong to Him because He made all things. Look also at verse 8 ; and try if you can find some other texts in the Psalms which tell us that all things were made by God's word (that is, God's thought and will), and obey Him, and are all His servants. Yes, all things obey God perpetually and continu- ally. All things. But do all people ? Do you ? Can you say that you obey all that God tells you in His word as swiftly and as perfectly as the snow melts before the fire ? Alas I No. Nobody can say this ; for even when we try our best to please God we find that we fail, and our obe.iience is imperfect ; just as if the snow were only half to melt, and be all mixed up with little bits of warm ice that refused to melt All things obey God perfectly ; but you are not a thing but a person, and so God has given yon this wonderful power, that you can if you choose disobey Him. You can refuse the good and love the evil ; neglect the right and do the wrong. Why is this ? Is it because God does not care about your obeying Him as much as He cares about the wind and the snow ? No, but because He cares a great deal more. He wishes you to obey Him, not as the snow, and wind, and clouds, and sunshine obey Him, because they cannot help it : but willingly, because you love Him. ' But if I cannot obey Him perfectly, even if I try, and sometimes feel as if I could not even try, what then ? ' Why you must ask God to ' work in you both to will and to do,' and to let the breath of His Holy Spirit breathe in your heart till all the ice of carelessness and disobedience is melted, and your heart flows out in sorrow for ever sinning against God, and in warm, happy love to Him and the Lord Jesus. Pray that God will keep the frost out of your heart I — E. R. CoNDEE, Drops and Rocks, p. 70. HAPPY WORK FOR EVERYBODY ' Both young men and maidens ; old men and children ; let them praise the name of the Lord.' — Psalm cxlviii. 12. I. Let us Think what it is to Praise the Lord. — It does not mean that we should always be singing. I hope you do sing a great deal — skip about and sing with all your hearts. But some praise is not singing. Very often when people do not open their lips they are praising the Lord most loudly and most sweetly. Have you ever thought that God listens to our hearts more than to our lips ? And this praise is always to have a thankful feeling in our hearts. Praise is the heart singing. We want the heart that sees and feels how kind our Heavenly Father is, and loves Him for everything. One day as I was going along the road I saw a large coil of telegra})h wire lying in a 333 Ver. 12. PSALM CXLVIII Ver. 12. heap. There keeping itself all to itself, dull and heavy, it was the very last thing that you would ever expect to get any music out of. Soon afterwards, as we were going that way again, my little girl said to me, ' Hark ! what is that playing ? ' I pointed up to the wire — the same wire that lay coiled up in heavy silence. Now it was stretched along from post to post, and was making music the whole day through. And so it is with us. We keep our love in to our- selves and wrapped around ourselves, and then there is no music. But when our love stretches away to Jesus, then it makes the constant music of praise. It did not matter at all where the telegraph wire went, over the moor, through the wood, up the hill, down the valley, it was singing still. And so when the love of our hearts is set on Jesus, the gladness goes with us everywhere — ^at home or at school, at work or at play. It did not matter to the telegraph wire how the wind blew. Warm and sunny from the south, chill and nipping from the north, it was all the same ; it sung still, and if we love Jesus it will keep our hearts singing always — that He can keep us in joy or soitow, in health or sickness, in life or death. Thus the praise comes when our hearts are set on Jesus. II. I am going to give you some reasons why we should all thus praise the Lord — ' Young men and maidens, old men and children '. Surely the first and best of reasons is Because He has Loved us, and given Himself for us. — Some years ago I knew a man in Cornwall, of whom I dare say some of you have heard. At the time I knew him he sold tea, going from place to place with a pack on his back ; but before that he had been a miner. One day when he was working far down in the mine, by the light of the candle that each carried stuck in his hat, they were going to blast a rock. He and his companion had bored the hole for the powder. Then they laid the fuze which was to light it, and cut that with a stone. It lighted at once, and each ran to the bucket that was waiting, and called to the man above to pull them up. He could not turn the handle with the two men in it, and called to them that it must be one at a time. They heard the fuze slowly hissing. They knew that in a moment more the explosion would come. They looked at each other — which should go up? Then stepping back the one said, ' You have little ones, I have none. Go on ; another second and I shall be in heaven '. The man whom I knew stepped in and was drawn up the shaft. Directly there came the thunder, and the great mass of rock was hurled in a hundred pieces — - one little piece flew up the shaft and struck my friend upon the forehead ; and when he told the story he would lift his hat and point to the place where it had struck him. Then, as the smoke cleared, thev came down the shaft to look for the mangled remains of this man. ' You can't tell, sir, what I felt when I came down again,' the miner would say with tears. ' Why, he had laid down his life for me and my little ones ! How could I love him enough 1 Well, we began to search with axe and crowbar, heaving back the stones, when, as we lifted one great mass of rock, there we found him covered by a piece that had been shot out against the wall of the shaft and roofed him over, so that he was not hurt a bit. Do you think I could thank him enough and be glad enough to see that he was not hurt ? ' Ah ! how can we ever love Jesus enough. For us He laid down His life. He bore our sins in His own body on the tree. The thunder and fierce lightnings of Sinai fell on Him, who gave Himself for us ; and how can we love Him enough ? Can we do enough for Him ? Surely this now is everybody's joyful duty. Young men and maidens, old men and children, let them pi'aise the name of the Lord. Then again, here is another good reason. We are the only Creatures in the World that can Praise Him. — If we don't praise the Lord He gets no praise from His beautiful world. This is our greatness and glory that we can praise the Lord. After all, the dragons and great deeps can't really praise Him, nor the sun or stars. We are to render loving thanks to our Heavenly Father for all that He has made. Every one of us is to be a priest of nature — robed with the garments of praise we ai-e to go in before Him and tell out the thanks of all the world about us. We are to see the beauty, and the love and the hundred uses of the earth, and are to render thanks to Him who made it all so good and fair. Because none else can do it, we may well say, ' O that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men ! ' III. Praise is the only Thing that we can Give to the Lord. — Everything in the world belongs to the Lord. He made it. All that we have He gave to us. What have we got then that we can give to Him ? Only this, our loving praise. IV. Loving Praise is the only Thing that can Satisfy our loving Lord. — Suppose that like Samson I were to put forth a riddle, who could guess the answer? "This shall be my riddle — What can kill love ? Hard work cannot kill love. Jacob worked hard enough for grumbling Laban, but that did not kill his love to Rachel. The mother here works hard for her poor little sick child, toiling all day, and rising often in the night. Sorrow and suffering do not kill love. They often make love stronger and gentler and tenderer than it was before. What then can kill love ? This, if love never gets a word of loving thanks poor love starves and sickens, and is like to die. The father saw the prodigal a long way oif, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. He brought his son home and gave him a ring for the finger and shoes for the feet, and the best robe and the fatted calf And when the glad joy sparkled in the eye, and all his thanks for the father's goodness filled his heart, and flowed out in every look and word, then the father was satisfied. But suppose the son had taken little notice of it all — of his shoes, and the ring, and the fatted calf ; if he had begun to 334 \'er. 9. PSALM CXLIX Ver. 9 complain and to grumble, I think then the father's heart would have been very sad, and his great love would have been sore wounded. Nothing else can satisfy love, but joy in it and loving praise for it all. Think of this, and because our God is love, let us live a life of continual praise. — Mark Guy Peabse, Sermons for Children, p. 121. THE HONOUR OF THE SAINTS 'Such honour have all His Saints.' — Psalm cxlix. g. Such Honour have all His Saints. — And the honour, you see, in your case, would be that of hard words to be heard and ridicule to be endured. But yet that is an honour for Christ's sake also ; and so I hope you would all of you try to feel it, if it pleased God that it should come to you. That is the beauty of this word such in the Psalm ; it leaves it so very uncertain what particular kind of honour it may be to each. Think first of the great multitude, which no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and peoples, and tongues, standing before the Throne, and before the Lamb, whom tbis day we keep in mind ; how one star even among them dift'ereth from another star in glory; how even in the highest of all their ranks, that of the martyrs, there is a marvellous difference in the beauty of the crown which they weai' ; how much more is there a difference between those who have laid down their lives for our Lord and those who have suffered torture or imprisonment for His sake, and those that have not been called to any other sufferings than that which we all must have through the struggle which always must go on be- tween our worse and our better nature ? Daniel told you so : ' They that be wise,' that i.s, truly wise, God's own servants, ' shall shine as the firmament ; ' but, which is a much greater deed, ' they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever.' You have seen what we call the milky way at night, that band of pale light which stretches right across the sky ; that is what Daniel means by the brightness of the firmament ; then think how much brighter even a very little star is than this ; much more one of those larger ones like the morning or evening star, or the dog star, that sparkles so beautifully with all manner of colours. Blessed is the Man that Endureth Temptation. — And call to mind that the temptations we all have, one after another, make altogether the ladder by which God intends us to get to heaven ; just as you set your feet on the rundles of a ladder, and trample them down, so to speak, thus it is with temptation.s, as in their turn you have to meet them. It was the way that our dear Lord Himself ascended to His Father and our Father, to His God and our God ; and there is no other way for you or for me, or for anyone else. And so every saint among the millions of whom this day speaks would also tell you : ' Blessed is the man that endureth temptation ; for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life '. — J. M. Neale, Sermons for Children (2nd edition), p. 240. PROVERBS SANDBANKS ' Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding.' — Proverbs hi. 5. This is a great thing we are told to do — to trust in the Lord. But wouldn't one almost imagine there was no need to tell people to do that ? We some- times need to be told to trust some person or other, for we would not do it otherwise — we are not quite sure about them. But to trust the Lord ! — the good Lord — the one who never did wrong to anybody, but only good to every one — to tell us to trust Him does seem to be a thing quite unnecessary. Well, maybe it is and maybe it isn't ; but what about the next words, ' Trust in the Lord with all thine heart ' ? Is not that just what we need to think about, and need to do ? Are we not always inclined to trust Him only a little bit, and distrust Him all the rest ? Yet the only way we can ever come to know how good the Lord is, is by trusting Him with all our heart. There was a father once who had two sons. One morning he took them early to a distant tree, and said, ' If you will water the roots of this tree every morning at suniise throughout the year, without fail, you will get riches '. It seemed a strange thing to do ; but father had said it, and his sons believed him ; so every morning at sunrise the two brothers went out and watered the tree for many months. But the father was taken ill and died, and his farm was divided between his two sons, and one went out every morning as before to water the tree, but the other soon gave it up. He had other things to do, he said : he saw no good of wasting his time in this way. ' Father must have made a mistake,' he was certain, ' for though he had gone every morning to water the tree, he had got no riches yet '. But the other said, ' Father was wise ; father would not deceive us ; I shall go on doing as he told me '. So, when the sun rose every morning it shone upon one brother out in the fields watering the tree, but it did not get shining on the other brother till long, long- afterwards, for he was lying abed, and lay there every day till the sun was high in the sky. So years rolled on, and the farm which the obedient brotlier had grew better and better, while the farm of the other grew worse and worse, and he became pooi'er and poorer as his brother grew richer and richer. All that the father promised had come true ; but not in the way the sons had expected. They had thought that by watering the roots of this tree great riches would suddenly come to them ; but that was not what the father meant. What he wanted them to learn was the habit of early rising, for he knew that if once they were afield at sunrise they would be sure to attend well to their farms, and be industrious, and so would get both health and wealth. And it was so — one brother grew richer for obeying his father, even when he did not quite understand all that he meant ; but the other brother grew poorer for lean- ing to his own understanding. It is much the same with us and God, Who is the Great Father of us all. There are many things He bids us do of which we cannot see the meaning at the time, yet when we trust and obey rather than go by our own understanding, in the end God is found to have been right, and wise, and good, and kind. What we have to do, then, is to trust Him with all our heart. Do that with prayer. He bids you pra}', and He promises many blessings for you when you obey. Perhaps, however, you cannot very well see how all these blessings are to come out of jjrayei'. Never mind ! Do you what the obedient son did — trust in the Father with all your heart, and one day, when you begin to look around you, and look within yourself, vou will find that, lo ! you have all the time been getting the blessings which He promised ! Trust Ood's Word, not your own knowledge. On a beautiful Sabbath morning, once, when I was on the east coast, as we came out of the little church we heard the firing of guns at sea. We were not long in learning why. There— right before us — was a foreign ship, sailing straight for the sandbank. Those on board could not see the sandbank (we could not see it), for it was covered by the sea, which was calm and beautiful, smiling as if all was right. Yes, but the people on the ship ought to have known where it was, for it was marked upon their maps. But be- cause all was so fair and 1 smooth and pleasant, they were going by their own understanding rather than by their instructions. So the lightship near the bank was firing guns to warn them of their danger. Oh, what a fluster there was on board the ship when the fii-st gun was fired ! The map was brought out and eagerly scanned ; but while they were study- ing it another gun was fired, which showed them the danger was near. So the sailors limbered aloft, the sails were backed, and the ship was hove-to — stopped — and then all turned their eves to make out what the lightship meant by her signals, and so slowly, carefully, anxiously, the ship at last got away. Had the warning, however, been only a few minutes later, the ship would have been wrecked, as many a good vessel had been before it, and all because the men would trust to their own understanding rather than go by their instructions ! There are dangers and sandbanks, and snares and 336 •Ver. 6. PROVERBS III Ver. 6. sins God warns us about, and very often you cannot see these dangers yourself at the first — everything looks pleasant and safe, and then you are tempted to go by what you think yourself rather than by what God says. Don't do that ! — pray, don't do that ! God does not deceive us. Trust Him in these times with all your heart ; do what He bids, even though you cannot see why He should say it ; for if you go by your own understanding rather than by God's Word, in the end God will be found to have been right, and you to have been very, very wrong. In everything, then, ' Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding '. — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Angel, p. 104. A MOTTO FOR THE SCHOOL YEAR (An Autumn Sermon) ' In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.' — Proverbs hi. 6. The holidays are past, and the hard work of school has begun again. You are feeling, perhaps even more than at the New Year, that a year has closed behind you, and a new one is opening in front. I wish to speak to you about the school year just begun. The other day I was standing in a room in a friend's house, when my eye was attracted by an illuminated card hung up over the mantelpiece. The words were printed in lettei-s of different sizes, and surrounded by a border of green and gold rather faded with age. The text was the one which stands at the head of this sermon. My friend, observing that I was looking at it, came behind me-and said, 'That card is very old ; it has been hanging there for twenty years. The text was intended to be the text of my childhood. I learned it and used often to re- peat it without thinking of its meaning. Sometimes it would attract my eye as I rose in the morning, or entered the room during the day. As I grew up, and the trouble and temptation of life began, it came to have a new meaning to me. I made it my motto. Often at night, when I was alone, I used to look up to it, leaning on the mantelpiece as you are doing now, and its dear homely face gave me good cheer. I think it is a good motto — " In all thy ways acknow- ledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths ".' Do you not think so too ? Will you not take it as your motto for this school year ? Let us try to apply it to the different parts of the life you are to lead. We may apply it to these four points — your play, your work, your companionships, and your thoughts of the future. I. Play. — You have had a glorious time of play during the bygone weeks. Some of you may have remained at home, but it was not to go through the old routine of lessons and school. You were out all day long, running about the streets, or roaming among the fields and the woods. But most of you were whirled off by train to some holiday resort. You were at the seaside, bathing in the morning, wading all day, chased by the incoming tide, digging in the sand, making castles and towns and gardens, scrambling among the rocks, sailing tiny boats in the pools, and watching the ships disappear away across the ocean. Or you were inland, at some place in the country, making friends with the dogs and ponies at a farm-house, helping to toss the hay and following the carts home, having picnics on the hillsides, and learning the names of the Howers in the meadows. It was a glorious time, and you caimot think how it could fly so quickly past. But though you are back to school, play has not come to an end. Every day the playground is ring- ing once more with your merry shouts. You con- trive, I am sure, to have at least one vacant hour for it in the evening ; and then every week there comes the Saturday, which you know how to enjoy. Now, do you acknowledge God in your play ? Perhaps you are surprised that I should ask. You never thought of such a thing. If I spoke about acknowledging Him on Sunday, or in the morning and evening when the hour comes for prayer and reading the Bible, or in a time of sickness, or when the angel of death has entered your home and taken some dear friend away, you could understand it. But how can you do so at your play ? It is God Who gives this gift to you. He knows that we cannot be working always. The body could not stand it, and still less could the mind. He does not wish it. He knows that His creatures need rest and recreation, and has made provision for them. I do not know any gi-eater proof of His consideration than this. It is for this reason that He has created the night for repose, and sends us sweet sleep, which folds us in its kind embrace, and makes the jaded mind and body fresh and strong for daily work. For the same reason He has created the blessed Sabbath, on which man and beast may rest, instead of being wasted with the tear and wear of unceasing toil. So, too. He gives you your holidays, your daily hours of play and your glorious Saturdays. He knows that you need them ; He loves to see you fi-esh and joyful. He does not come near to people only when they are suffering and weeping. He is neai' you at your play, and rejoices with you when you rejoice. Now you see how you can acknowledge Him in your play — by recognising that it is He who gives it, by thanking Him for it, and by remembering that He is near you when you are at it. It would not make you less happy to remember this, but far more happy. Only, it would repress many a wicked word, many an angry thought, many an ungentle and un- generous deed. If all children remembered it, a new sunshine would fall on the playground, and a new joy ring in the voices there. II. Work. — For many days the schoolrooms were deserted, and the school as deathlike as an idle mill. But the machinery is awake again ; and the building alive with the murmur of the life within. You have had to bring the old books out of their places or buy new ones. The satchel, the slate, and the copy-book have had to be dragged forth from the cornere into 337 22 Ver. 6. PROVERBS III Ver. 6. which you threw them when the holidays arrived. In the morning you have to get up early and trudge off the old roatl again. For five or six hours you are cooped up within the school-walls, reading, spelling, translating, repeating, counting, writing. And in the evening come the stiffest hours of the day, when you have to commit to memory the tasks of the morrow. It is hard work ; and it will go on now for many months before the bright weeks of summer and free- dom return again. Do vou acknowledge God in your work ? He ex- pects you to do so. It is a large part of your life. You have to give to it the best hours of your time and the best of your strength. If God be not ac- knowledged here, he is shut out from the most im- portant part of your life. But how is He to be acknowledged ? Well, first of all by recognising that He has given you your v/ork to do, and expects you to do it well. You might perhaps think that it would be the finest thing in the world to have no work to do at all, but enjoy a never-ending holiday. Perhaps when you came back from the vacation the other week, you found it very disagreeable to go back to school again, and ai'e still feeling lessons very slow. There are many grown- up people who dream that it would be a fine thing not to have to work, but be able always to go about idle. But there is nothing so miserable. Only the other day I was reading a letter written by a young lady who was in the lowest depths of melancholy. What do you think made her miserable? It was that she had nothing to do, and did not know how to spend her time and energies. There are thousands like her. I have known many young men who were rich, and on that account had no trade nor anything to occupy their time. The result almost invariably was that they were both miserable and wicked. If any of you boys have fathers so rich that they might bring you up without making you do any work, I would beg them not to do so. It would be a curse. God intends us to work ; and we can be happy only when we have plenty to do. You might prefer to have no lessons just now ; but then what would be- come of you when you have grown up ? You would be utterly ignorant, unable to read a book or a pajier or write a letter ; you would be unfit to speak with cultivated people ; nobody worth knowing would take you for a friend ; and you would not be able to fill any situation of importance. Your existence would be mean and miserable. It is in order that your life in the future may be useful and noble that God now gives you the tasks which you have to per- form, and expects you to do them well. Besides, the way in which you do your tasks now will in ail probability determine the way in which you will do the greater tasks of the future. Boys and girls work, and so do men and women. But their tasks are different. You are looking forward to follow different trades and professions, and to occupy various positions. Would you not like to do your work in future, whatever it may be, well ? You would not like to be pointed at and scorned as useless and awkward. But there is nothing I see more clearly than that what you are as boys and girls now, you will be as men and women afterwards. If now you are idle and dishonest about your school tasks, you will be the same with the great tasks of life ; but if you are diligent, honest, and earnest, such will you also be when called to the higher work. God has given you a work to do now, and wishes you to do it, so that you may be well prepared for executing what He has in store for you in the future. But I dare say there are some of you who find it very hard to take this view of your lessons. Your minds are restless and roving. Though you try to fix them on your work, they wander away from it, and begin to think of play and dream about the past holidays. In the evening, when you ought to be poring over your book, your eyes are lifted off it, and roam about the room or stare out at the window ; and your feet are very apt to follow them. Others of you are slow at learning. You are surprised to see how quickly your clever companions can get their lessons ready. But it takes long to get them into your head, and they run as easily out again as water out of a sieve. Well, 'in all thy ways acknowledge Him '. Have you ever told God about this ? If He gives you work, He is willing to give you help as well. Do you pray about your lessons, asking God to assist you to overcome your defects ? Many school- children have found this a splendid help. It is the best way of acknowledging God in your work now ; and what is more, it will form in you a habit of con- sulting Him about everything, which will be of priceless value when the work and difficulties of manhood and womanhood arrive. III. Companionships. — Boys and girls always have companions. I wonder what a boy would be like who had no friends. I should not like to see him. During the holidays you have been cementing friend- ships in country rambles. And as you sit day by day during the winter on the same bench with'others, and sometimes read from the same book, I am sure that friendship will be one of the largest as well as sweetest parts of your life. There can be none in which it is more impor- tant to acknowledge God, so that He may direct your paths. And I say this, not because 1 wish to urge you to seek for good companions, and accept no others, but especially because I wish to see you being good companions. Have you a friend ? You will be a great deal with him during the coming year. He will hear you speaking constantly ; he will constantly be seeing the things you do. The consequence will be, that by the time the session closes he will be either the better or the worse for associating with you. You will make him the sort of boy he will be. Perhaps, also, the sort of man he will be in his future life may de- pend on his present friendship with you. Very few boys and girls think of this, and let it weigh with them from day to day. We do not easily see the Ver. t). PROVERBS III Ver. 17. influence we have on others. A single sentence, or a single action, or a single day seems to produce so little impression. So when snow begins to fall, if vou hold out your hand the single flakes melt and disappear in an instant. A single flake is almost nothing at all. But let the flakes fall all day, and what a mass they become ! They cover the hills and block the streets, and weigh down the branches of the trees, till even the mighty arms of the oak crack beneath the burden. So our words for a year falling on a companion's mind, along with the im- pressions made by our example, cannot help produc- ing great effects. There are some of you whose influence on others is not confined to one or two companions. It may extend over a score, or even over a whole school. I have known a boy who, because he was rich and clever, was looked up to by the whole school ; and because he was wicked, became the tempter of hundreds, and poisoned the atmosphere which they breathed. On the other hand, two or three boys who are generous, manlv, and true, may impart a high and pure tone to all that goes on both in the plavground and in the classes. Will you not in this acknowledge God ? By the love you cherish to your dearest friend, by the sweetness and the joy of your companionships, by the terror of being a tempter and sowing seed which may spring up as eternal woe upon the soil of others' souls, I beseech you to pray Him to save you fi'om exerting an influence polluted and debasing ; and, by making your own character pure and Christlike, to enable you to help and bless those with whom you are connected by friendship's golden bond. IV. Thoughts of the Future. — Children do not think much of the future. They live in the present. Yet some of you are thinking a great deal about it. Some of you have left home for the first time to attend school in a distant town or city ; and in the first dreary weeks of home-sickness you are thinking more of the future than ever you did in your life before. Others are entering on their last session, and all their thoughts are about what they will bo and do in the time beyond. But there are others still to whom I wish particularly to speak. Some of you do not feel, as you read this sermon, that it speaks to you. You have read and heard children's sermons for years, and always felt that they were addressed to you. But you will never feel so again, however many of them may be preached in your hearing, and however much you may enjoy them. The reason is, because you are a child no more. Last session was your last at school. You have gone to some trade or office, or you are to be employed at home. Well do I know the look of those like you whom I am meeting day by day in the streets, which says as plainly as words could speak it that childhood is past. You are thinking of the futui'e. It is crowding on you every day ; and you are dreaming about it by night — all you are to achieve and all that fortune is to bring you. Are you acknowledging God in these thoughts ? You have reached a great turning-point in life. Have you emerged from your childhood saved or un.saved ? Have you made the great decision yet ? You have far more need than ever before to acknowledge Him in all your ways, that He may direct your steps. New duties, new temptations, new friendships are before you, and they are too much for your own wisdom and your own strength. I most earnestly hope for you a bright future, full of usefulness, of nobleness, and joy. But this can only be if you are taking God into your life. Without Him, however brave and strong you be, you will stumble and fall. Is Christ your Saviour and your Friend ? He comes to you now, and at the out- set of your career offers to accompany you. Will you not welcome Him and clasp Him to your heart with bands of triple steel ? ' In all thy ways ac- knowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.' — James Stalker, The New Song, p. 118. PLEASANT WAYS AND PEACEFUL PATHS ' Her ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace.' — Proverbs hi. 17. When we look at a verse in the Bible it is something like looking up into the sky when it begins to get dark. We look first and see nothing ; then we look a little longer and we see a solitary star ; and we look a little longer and see another, and another, and another, till it seems all stars. That is something like looking at a verse in the Bible. Let us see if we can find any little stars here. I am sure there are some. In the begimiing of the verse it says ' ways,' and in the end ' paths '. Why are they called ' ways of pleasantness,' and 'paths of peace'? What is the difference ? Can you think ? ' Ways ' you know are broad ; ' paths ' are little, narrow, retired places. Did you ever know what it was to go and have a day's ' pleasure,' and when you came home to feel no ' peace ' ? Do you know the difference between 'pleasure' and 'peace'? You know you have 'pleasure,' but you cannot go into little, quiet places where there is ' peace '. ' Her ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace.' If we may compare them, ' pleasantness ' is like a rose which grows in open places ; ' peace ' is like a little violet which grows in the shade. Which will you like best — the rose of ' pleasure,' or the violet of ' peace ' ? You see here we are to have them both : ' Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace '. I will point out one very important word. Do you know which it is ? ' All ' — ' All her paths are peace '. Do you think we can say that of anything in the world besides? Is anything else 'all peace? ' Have you not generally something to disappoint? Somebody is unkind ? 'There comes some sting after- wards in most things. But here, ' all her paths are peace '. Will you turn to Proverbs x. 22 — it is a beautiful verse, let us all read it together — ' The blessing of the 339 Ver. 17. PROVERBS III Ver. 17. Lord, it maketh rich, and Headdeth no sorrow with it '. Now turn to Psalm cxix. 165 — all these three texts mean the same thing — ' Great peace have they which love Thy law, and nothing shall offend them '. ' All her ways ai-e peace '. I think some people make a great mistake about religion. When they talk about religion they are always saying, 'Don't — don't'; and 'You mustn't — you mustn't'. I know that persons go to a little child in the nursery and say, ' You mustn't play with your playthings to-day — it is Sunday. You mustn't take a walk to-day — it is Sunday. You mustn't do this, and you mustn't do that.' This is not the right way to talk. This is not re- ligion. You should say to the little child in the nursery, 'Here are some pretty little pictures for Sunday, and pretty toys, different to others. You may take a walk if you like, and you may go to church if you like. Sunday is the happiest day of the week.' Some people speak thus to a boy about religion, ' Oh, don't be religious ' ; and his own heart and the devil say the same : ' If you are religious you must give up all your pleasures ; if you are a religious boy you mustn't shout or play about so much ; you must never go to a ball or to a theatre, and a great many other things you must not do if you become religious,' as if religion was giving all up. I should say to a boy, ' If you are a religious boy you will have much pleasanter companions than worldly and wicked ones, and you will find then- society much sweeter ; you will have a great many new pleasures, such as you have no idea of. Now it will be very nice to do good things ; it will be better than all other things. I do not say you mustn't buy tarts and cakes, but I will show you a pleasanter way of spending your money. I do not say you mustn't go here, nor you mustn't go there ; but I say, for everything God takes away He gives something- better in its place.' ' Her ways are ways of pleasant- ness, and all her paths are peace.' If a boy has a stick in his hand you may not succeed in wrenching it from him ; but if you offer him an apple he will immetliately drop the stick. Therefore give up worldly things, because something better is before you. I do not think persons act rightly about religion ; and I do not wonder at boys thinking it a forbidding, dull, and stupid thing. Now we are going to look at 'pleasant' things in religion. It is a very pleasant thing (is it not .') to walk in the sun. Now, if you are religious through your life, you are always walking in the sunshine. Look at John viii. 12, Jesus says, ' I am the light of the world : he that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life'. I will tell you what it means. If you love Jesus Christ and walk where you are following Him you will be on the sunny side of ever}'thing ; you will not be on the dark side of the hedge but on the sunny side. You will see everything in sunshine, you will have a happy feeling in your heart which will make everything look sunny. Sometimes you may take a walk through a dull part of the country, but if you have an agreeable friend as your companion, and you have a pleasant conversation as you go along, it makes the walk ' pleasant '. If you are religious you will always have a ' pleasant ' Friend with you. Do you not remember what the two disciples said who walked with Jesus to Emmaus, Luke xxiv. 32, ' Did not our heart burn within us, while He talked with us by the way, and while He opened to us the Scriptures ? ' And if you turn to the Song of Solomon you will read a beautiful verse, chapter vm. 5, ' Who is this that cometh up from the wildei-ness, leaning upon her beloved ? ' Must it not be a happy walk when we are ' leaning upon Christ ' ? Therefore you see it is always a sunny walk ; and a walk with the best Friend in the whole world. It must be very ' pleasant ' — and ' a path of peace '. Now look at some of the things which make it so ' pleasant ' ; and then we will look at the little, quiet, retired, violet ' paths of peace '. I am going to speak first about ' the ways '—open things ; things we do with other people ; like the public road ; then I shall talk of the little quiet ' paths ' where we go alone. Do you understand that? Will you turn to Psalm cxxxm. 1, and you will see one of the ' pleasant ' things. ' Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity I ' Who makes brothers and sisters agree and never quarrel ? Who makes school -fellows agree and never quarrel ? The God of love. There must be ' peace ' and love in a heart where God is. If there is quan-cUing in a house — if brothers and sisters quarrel — it is because God is not there. ' He maketh men to be of one mind in a house.' It is such a pleasant sight to see brothei-s and sisters unselfish ; not always wishing the best for then}>elves, but for others ; not speaking crossly, but striving to make each other happy. ' How good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity ? ' When all assemble around the fire or table in love, and are happy together. 'Ihat is one of the 'pleasant' things — now we will look at another. If I see a boy or girl go out to do some little act of kindness, there is no ' pleasure ' like it. Try it. I think you have tried it a little, but not so much as you might. Try if it will not make you every day more happy if you do little acts of kindness to somebody. It may be to some com- panions or sick persons — you go and read and speak kindly to them. It miiy be any little thing — no matter how little. You will find it is the ' pleasant- est ' thing in all the world. Now I must tell you about a little boy — they used to call him ' Little Robby '. He was a kind little boy — always trying to make others happy ; and one thing he used to be always saying was this, ' Come, children, come ! ' If they asked him, ' Where, 340 Vei. 17. PROVERBS III Ver. 17. Robby ? ' he would say, ' Come to heaven '. Little Robby became ill, and when he lay on a sick-bed, he was always saying, ' Come ! come ! ' ' Where, Robby ? ' ' To heaven.' He said, ' Come, papa ! Come, mamma ! Come, little children! Come!' 'Where?' 'To heaven.' He went on saying it again and again ; at last, through his sickness, his little voice grew fainter and fainter ; and the last words little Robby ever said were, ' Come ! come ! ' very softly. When his little brother went into his room, after he was dead, he said, ' It is such a pleasant place, mamma ; it is all glory '. Was not that a ' way of pleasantness ' ? Now I will tell you another thing. It is a very ' pleasant ' thing to be very busy. I do not know how you find it during the holidays ; they are very nice, but they are not ' pleasant ' if they last too long. They are very stupid things if you have not some games to play or something to do. The fact is, as God has made us, we ai-e never happy unless we are busy. The angels in heaven are very busy, they never rest. Jesus Christ was always busy when He was upon this earth. All God's people are busy. A person that is not busy never can be happy. Two things you ought to be busy about. One is with your own heart — to keep it in good order, to pull up the weeds, to watch over yourselves, and to conquer yourselves. It is like having in your heart a little garden — a nice thing to keep is a little gar- den. You are always to be busy ; and it will be very ' pleasant ' to (eel that the weeds are fewer, and the heart is getting into order. Self-victory is a veiy great ' pleasure '. Another thing that you are to be busy about is your duty, no matter what it is. It may be to learn Latin and Greek, to learn your lessons well ; if in busines.s, to do your duty. You know what it is. God will show it to you. Whatever your duty is, be busy about it. Somebody has said that every one of us is like a hai-p with a great many strings. I will tell you what he meant. You must always play in concert, every- thing must be kept in concert. If anything is out of concert it will be very bad. There is your heart, one of the strings there must be holy thoughts ; if a bad thought conies in it is like a string out of tune. Then your words must be gentle, kind words. If a boy or girl speaks cro.ss or angry words it is out of tune ; it spoils the concert. Then your feet must walk in the right path — they must go on errands of kindness ; if thej' go a wrong way the concert is broken. Your hands must be full of good works. If the hand strikes, the hand is out of tune. You have to keep all in tune, in concert ; your thoughts, your words, youi' steps, and your ac- tions with your hands. Take care that nothing gets out of tune ; but that all is in good harmony, that there be sweet music, nothing jamng. Is there no note wrong ? Look at your thoughts, your words, your works, your hands ; are they in con- cert ? What a ' pleasant ' thing is sweet music when all goes nice, when the harmony is not marred. It will be thus with you if you keep all right within. It will be sweet music, perhaps sweeter to God than angels' songs ! One thing more I have to say about ' pleasant ways '. If ever you went to Switzerland, or to any other place where there are high mountains, and you stayed there a little while — ^till you came to love those beautiful snow mountains — when yoii returned to England and saw again its lovely scenery, you would feel, ' All this is very pretty ; but I do so miss those beautiful snow mountains that seemed to touch the skies ! ' I think it is very often so with us and the things of the world — if there is no heaven in the background, everything is tame ; but we want the snow moun- tains ; we want something all around that should seem to crown it all ; for how beautiful soever earthly things may be, and how ' pleasant ' soever, still they are dark — because there is no eternity, there is no heaven, there are no snow mountains. If we have these, even in the background, it makes everything .so ' pleasant '. I have read of a little boy who slept in a room that looked towards the East, and every morning he jumped out of bed and went to the window, saying, ' Christ is coming ! Christ is coming ! ' Happy little boy ! His first thought every morning was, ' Christ is coming — coming from the East '. Mr. Hitchcock, a learned man in America, men- tions in one of his sennons a remarkable thing. He was preaching upon what he called ' ^ITie dignity of the Christian ' ; and he told this little fact, that in Virginia he once went clown a very deep mine indeed, where of course it was pitch dark ; himself and those accompanying him, were creeping along with their little candles when they heard some sweet singing ; they did not know whence it came, but went in the direction whence it sounded, and they came to a very old man. Now I will tell you about this old man. He was a slave and was blind. He had his eyes put out by the blasting of gunpowder in the mine. He was very old, and I will tell you what he did eveiy day. Be- low in this mine a door was kept shut to prevent the bad air from coming up ; but when cars had to pass it was obliged to be opened— for they have railways in these mines. This old man had to open this gate, which he could do by feeling. Year after year this old blind slave had remained in this dark, cold, miserable mine, doing nothing else than opening the door when the cars went past. And yet he was singing so sweetly a very beautiful verse called, ' Heaven in the Morning '. Though blind, he looked so happy ; and they asked him to sing his song again, ' Heaven in the Morning,' which he did. It was an odd place to find a Christian — a dark mine — for, though a poor blind slave, he was such ; and he was very happy, because he felt sure of ' Heaven in the Morning '. ' Her ways are ways of pleasantness.' Now we must look at ' the paths ' — they are better 34.1 Ver. 17. PROVERBS TIL, IV Ver. 23. still. I will tell you of a sweet little ' path ' — to feel God's forgiveness. Do you know that ? Can you say, ' God has forgiven me all my sins for Jesus Christ's sake ' ? It is such a sweet little ' path '. It is ' a path the vulture's eye hath not seen '. It is a sweet feeling. ' God has forgiven me my sin.' I wish you to have that every night when you go to bed. Shall I give you a pillow to go to sleep on ? I am going to put a great many things into the pillow ; and I hope you will never go to sleep without it. I recommend you to put into your pillow first a little text — perhaps it will be best if it is a promise. Next put into your pillow a verse of a hymn. The third thing I should reconmiend would be a little prayer ; I do not mean your prayer out of bed, but a short, little prayer after you get into bed, whatever you like. Then a fourth thing, feel in your own conscience you are trying to do what is right. Then a fifth thing you must feel, because your conscience will be sure to tell you that you have done wrong, that the blood of Jesus Christ must pardon you and wash away your sin. Then a sixth thing you must feel, ' I am going to try hard to do something good to-morrow morn- ing better than to-day '. And the seventh and last is, you must just take a little glance at Jesus Christ before going to sleep. Try to stuff your pillow with these seven things, and see if you do not have a sweet sleep. Do not forget them. I will tell you another ' pleasant, peaceful path '. Indeed I have almost said it already. But I mean, have a quiet conscience. It is a sad thing when the conscience is not quiet. Perhaps some in this church this afternoon have not a quiet conscience. They have done something very wrong. I do not know what it is ; but God knows and you know. You have not peace ; for you have no reason to believe that God has forgiven you. Your conscience is not happy, and you cannot enjoy anything. The only way you can enjoy anything is for your conscience to get hardened ; but you will never truly enjoy anything, if you are a Christian till conscience is quiet. You know the children of Israel could not enjoy ' the lamb ' unless they knew ' the blood ' was on ' the dooiposts '. Oh, get rid of sin, if you would have a quiet conscience ! ' Let the little bird sing sweetly in the bosom,' as Matthew Henry says. One more thing I must mention, a sweet little ' path of peace.' The disciples, it is said, ' went and told Jesus '. It is such a sweet little ' path ' to be in the habit of going and telling Jesus Christ everything. He likes vou to do so, and you will like it when you have done it. Wherever you are feel God is with you. You can tell God everything. Did vou ever lead about little Johnny being lost in the great wood all night ? but in the morning he was found. He was asked, 'Were you not frightened? What did you do ? ' He said, ' It grew dark, and Johnny said, "God take care of little Johnny".' And then he slept ail night, not at all frightened, be- cause he had told God that he was there. That was real faith, a ' path of peace '. There were some Indians, of whom I have read, who talked some time ago in an old Indian's hut ; and the conversation turned on this, ' Which is the most pleasant season of the year, winter, spring, sum- mer, or autumn ? ' I do not know which you like best ; but I will tell you what the old Indian said. ' Did you notice,' said he to the other Indians, ' as you came here, a number of trees around my hut ? ' ' Yes,' they replied. He said, ' Well, when it is spring, then you know the pretty buds come out in those trees, and I think. How beautiful is spring ! When the summer comes there is the sweet foliage, and birds sing on the trees, and I think. How beauti- ful is summer ! When autumn comes there is a beautiful tint upon the leaves, and nice ripe fruit, and I think, How beautiful is autumn ! But when winter comes, and there are no leaves, and no fruit, and no singing of birds, I can better look up through the leafless branches and see the stars, and then I say, How beautiful is winter ! ' Was not that beautiful ? I hope you will all be able to ' look up through the leafless branches and see the stars '. — James Vaughan. HOLDFAST ' Take fast hold of instruction ; let her not go : keep her ; for she is thy life.' — Proverbs iv. 13. 1. The take hold of faith. 2. The holdfast of truth. 3. The keep hold of life. 4. The freehold of grace. — C. Edwards, Tin Tacks for Tiny Folks, p. 110. KEEPING THE HEART ' Keep thy heart with diligence ; for out of it are the issues of life.' — Proverbs iv. 23. All wise people (and I want you all to be very wise) like to go deeply into a thing ; they like to go to the root of a thing. What is your root ? Where is it ? Your ' heart ' is the root. It is the root of every- thing. If you like we will see where God says so. Turn to Luke VI. 45. Everything that is good or bad comes first out of the ' heart '. Let us read this verse : ' A good man, out of the good treasure of his heart, bringeth forth that which is good ; and an evil man, out of the evil treasure of his heart, bringeth forth that which is evil : for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh '. Everything, then, comes out of the ' heart '. I know that some people try to hide their hearts, and they fancy nobody can tell what they are thinking of, or feeling ; and they try to put on a countenance so that no one may know what they are thinking about. But it certainly will come out at last. Shall I tell you about a little boy and his watch ? A little boy had a very nice watch, but it would not go right. It had a very pretty case, and face ; but it sometimes went too fast, and sometimes too slow. He asked his mother what he should do about it. Ver. 23. PROVERBS IV Ver. 23. She told him to take it to the watchmaker's. He did so ; and he j-aid, ' Master John (the Httle hov's name was John Wilson), it has its hands all rii;ht, but it will not go right. Therefore leave it with nie, and come again in a few days, and I will tell you what is the matter with it '. John went again to him in a few days, and the watchmaker said to him, ' I opened your watch, and I found there was the right number of wheels, and pins, and screws ; but I found a little part called " the spring " which was wrong ; it had a bad spring, and because the mainspring was wrong, it sometimes went too fast, and sometimes too slow '. Now, I think, you are all like watches. Something within you goes tick, tick, and you have hands and inside works. But how do you go ? Sometimes too fast, and sometimes too slow. Does not the tongue sometimes go too fast or too slow ? Are not the feet sometimes too fast or too slow ? Are not the hands sometimes going wrong ? How is this ? Let us ex- amine— though I am not the watchmaker — God is the watchmaker : the mainspring is the heart. Now we must look at the mainspring, the heart, ' for out of it are the issues of life '. Everything in you depends upon your ' heart '. God always looks most at the ' heai't '. Now as it is so important to ' keep the heart ' right, I want to try to help you to do so by giving you a little advice thereupon. ' Keep thy heart with all diligence ; for out of it are the issues of life.' I do not know whether you do what I sometimes do ; I look at the side of my Bible, in the margin ; and reading that helps me to understand more fully the Scripture. Now it does not say in the margin, ' Keep thy heart with all diligence,' but ' Keep thy heart above all keeping '. It is most important to keep your thoughts ; but it is most important to 'keep your heart' — ' Keep thy heart above all keep- ing ; for out of it are the issues of life '. Before I begin to give you a little advice about it, I will tell you something about two pictures. I can only tell you what I have heard about them — not knowing whether what is said is true ; but I know the pictures aie to be seen in the picture galleries. It is said that a gi'eat painter some time ago wanted to paint a picture of Innocence : so he had a little tiny boy brought to him, that knelt before him, and put up his little hands towards heaven to pray. He had pretty little rosy cheeks, and beautiful blue eyes, and was such a representation of Innocence that the painter made a pictuie of him ; and, when finished, hung it up in his room. Many years after, he thought, ' I wish I had a picture of Guilt — for that is a pretty one of Innocence, and I should like the opposite,' and he thought, ' How shall I manage ? I will go to the prison of the town, and ask the keeper to let me go to the worst man, and take a likeness of him '. He went to the prison and asked to see the worst man there. He was shown a man who had committed miu-der. His eye was fierce, and his brow was hardened ; and he was a complete picture of wretchedness. He sat down and painted it. He took it home, and hung it beside the other. One he named Rupert, and the other Randal. But what do you think he found out ? Why, that Rupert was Randal, and Randal was Rupert — -that the man he had painted in the prison to rejjresent Guilt was the same person as he had painted, when a little boy, for Innocence. When little, he had a soft heart ; but as he grew up he went into bad company — took to drinking, became a thief, liar, a murderer ! and at last was hanged. Randal the felon was the former Rupert the innocent. If Rupert had ' kept his heart with all diligence,' he would not have been the guilty Randal in old age ! I. If you would 'keep' your garden, you must often look into it. It is a very nice thing before you go to bed at night to look into your garden^that is a very good time ; but I do not mean that you are only then to do it, but make it a rule, before you get into bed, to look into your garden. And I will tell you what you will find there — every day there will grow lumps of weeds ; however well you may have weeded it yesterday, you will find more weeds to-day. Pull them out ! II. Then another thing — you must water it. This wants doing very often. Do you know what I mean ? If not, look at the fourth of John, to what Jesus Christ said about water, and what it is. Bring the Holy Spirit into your heart. Pray that God will pour good thoughts — His grace — into your heart : that is water. I will tell you about a little boy who kept his garden just as I was saying. He lived in Switzerland, but was an English boy — his name was John ; he was called there Jean. He liked very much to look at the mountains of Switzerland, and used to say, ' How beautiful is Mont Blanc ! God is greater than Mont Blanc' He was a dear little boy ; but one day he quarrelled with his little brother. I cannot, and I should not like to tell you how it was, but he became very cross ; and when he went to bed at night, he was very unhappy because he had quarrelled with his little brother. He turned first on one side and then on the other ; he could not go to sleep, because he did not feel happy. What do you think he did ? The best thing a boy could do — he jumped out of bed in the dark, and knelt down by the side of his bed, and said, ' O God, forgive me for having been unkind to my little brother — forgive me for Christ's sake '. When he gi-ew up (his name was John Fletcher — one of the holiest men that ever lived) in after life he said, ' On that night when I went to bed again, I felt the first real peace I had ever felt. I have often felt it since in my mind ! but that was the first time I ever felt the peace of God in my heart '. He used to ' keep his heart '. III. Now another thing, we ought to keep it like a citadel. Supposing you were a soldier or were guard- ing any citadel that was besieged : you would have to take great care that the enemy did not come in. Ver. 28. PROVERBS IV Ver. 23. How shall we ' keep our hearts ' ? Let us put some sentinels — we will have two. What shall their names be ? Prayer and Watchfulness. These two sentinels have to ' keep the heart '. You know if in time of war a sentinel goes to sleep, he is to be shot. And, remember, it is a time of war now, I do not mean in India ; but at Brighton — in this church. Evei^body is fighting. When you were baptised, you said you would ' fight (your godfathers and godmothers promised for you) against the world, the flesh, and the devil ' till you died. It is a time of war — therefore the sentinels must not go to sleep. Prayer and Watchfulness must not stop, but go up and down, be always moving. Let me give you a little hant. You will find it a very useful thing often to lift up a little prayer in your heart. I do not mean only morning and even- ing ; but any time, when you think enemies are coming in, likely to take your citadel, lift up a prayer that you may be faithful. A little boy may be at play, or a little girl sitting at needlework, but each can offer a little prayer, ' Lord, show me what I ought to do ! ' Nobody would know anything about it but God. That is the sentinel of Prayer. I once knew a private soldier in the Coldstream Guards. At that time there was a great deal of religious feeling among the soldiers. They were Wesleyan Methodists. Six or seven of them were religious men. The others laughed at them and teased them. But, finding they lost their temper, they agreed among themselves to have a little watch- word ; and so, when one saw another getting out of temper, or doing anything wrong, he would come and whisper in his ears the watchword, which was, ' Watch ! ' This did a great deal of good — it helped to keep them on their guard ; and the soldier who told me this afterwards became an infant school teacher, and wrote one of the best books on the subject that ever was written. He used to go about with the others and say, ' Watch, Watch '. Peter the Great, Czar of Russia, did not watch. I will tell you what he did. In 1722 he made a law that none of his subjects should ever strike a slave ; if he did so he should be punished. A little while after Peter was walking in his garden, and a slave ofFended him — he took up his stick and struck him a blow. Peter is said to have made use of these words : ' I have conquered many nations — I have given good laws to my own citizens, but I have not been able to govern myself I have found it more difficult to keep my own heart thnn the whole Russian empire.' I V. Let me tell you a few more things how to ' keep your heart '. Do you remember when Elisha went to Jericho, and the waters were bad, what Elisha did ? Will you look at 2 Kings ii. 20, 21. Elisha put some salt in the spring where the bad waters came from, and the water was all made good. If you want to make the streams good, you must make the spring good. What shall you do ? Put salt, that is the grace of God, into your heart, which is the spring of everything. That is a piece of advice to you. There was a very dear little girl once, who was called Mary. One day she was very selfish, and her mother read to her that text, ' j'or even Christ pleased not Himself ; and it made her think, ' I often please myself, rather than please other people '. Now I will tell you what happened a few days after- wards. Before going to bed she sat on her mother's lap and said to her, ' I want to tell you something '. ' Well, Mary, what have you to tell me ? ' ' Oh, mamma,' she replied, ' I used to be so selfish ; and one thing in particular I used to be very selfish about. When I saw grandmother I used to think her cross, and she used to tell me to do things I did not like, and sometimes I refused ; and often I did them in a cross way. But when you talked to me about Jesus " pleasing not Himself,'' I thought I would try to be like Him ; and the next time before going into her house, I went to the lilac-tree which is outside, and asked God to help me to be unselfish. Then I went into the house, and looked about to see what gi'and- mother could want, and I soon found out ; and before she asked me I ran and did it ; and, Oh, mamma, as I came back I had such beautiful feelings.' This was because she conquered herself. She did the right thing. She asked God to help her, that was putting in salt at the spring. Try to be unselfish — ask God to help you — try to please Him, and see if you will not have beautiful feelings. If you want to ' keep your heart,' do not let there be any empty comei-s therein. God likes all boys and girls to De employed — sometimes at their lessons, some- times at play ; sometimes helping somebody, thinking, reading, or playing, to be always employed. If you ever visit North America, you will probably go to see the Falls of Niagara, and the guide will show you a particular spot where a sad thing once happened. A young lady went to see those beautiful falls. She went just beside where the water falls over the rocks, and saw a flower a little way down the precipice, which she imagined she could reach ; she thought, ' Oh what a proud thifig it would be to pick a flower from the Falls of Niagara, and carry it home to England ! ' Her friends said, ' Do not try ! ' She was obstinately resolved to do it She leaned over to pick the flower. She could not reach it. Her friends said, ' Come back ! Come back I ' She was head- strong, and listened not to their voice. She leaned still further over the precipice, the green soil gave way, and she was precipitated, like a falling star, down to the bottom, and carried away by the rushing torrent I She was killed in desiring a dangerous flower I Many boys and girls want dangerous flowers. They want to enjoy the amusements of the world, and its vain, sinful pleasures. Take care that you do not find them like the Niagara flower, that, in striv- ing after them, you fall down the abyss I One thing more. Have you not .sometime^, when anybody has given )'ou anything uncommonly valu- able, taken it to your father and said, 'It is too 344 Vv. 25, 26. PROVERBS IV., VI Ver. 6. precious for me to keep, I am afraid of losing it, do take care of it for me ? ' It is very wise for boys and girls to do this with their treasures. Oh, that you would do this with your heart ! You cannot ' keep ' it yourself, therefore often take it to God, ask Him to keep your heart. ' Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain ' (Ps. cxxvii. 1). And again David says, ' Lord, keep my heart '. And there is a beautiful vei-se in Isaiah (xxvii. 3). Often offer this prayer, ' Lord, keep my heart tor me ' ; and then read this verse, which is an answer thereto, ' I the Lord do keep it ; I will water it every moment : lest any hurt it, I will keep it night and day '. — James Vaughan. TWISTED Object — A piece of twisted wire ' Look straight before thee.'— Proverbs iv. 25, 26. Oke of the most interesting items at a local agricul- tural exhibition was wire-twisting and straining, for the construction of cattle fencing. One onlooker was heard to say, ' Ah ! there is a good deal of wire-pul- ling going on in certain quartere to-day '. Now, out of that remark, I am anxious to twist out a little address twisted. I. Sometimes Words are Twisted. — I heard some one say, ' Don't take any notice of what Jack says, he is a regular twister, his word is not to be depended upon '. Do you not remember how that in the Book of Acts a story is told of a man who, on coming to pay his taxes, kept back part of the price of the land. Peter, who was the receiver, saw that Ananias was attempting deception, and said, ' Why hast thou con- ceived this thing in thine heart ? thou hast not lied unto men but unto God. Ananias, hearing these words, dropped dead.' II. Sometimes Influence is Twisted. — No one is unimportant in the world ; we all yield a measure of influence for weal or woe. It is a simple illustration, but will help the tiny tots to undei-stand my point better. We stand before a still lake, there is not a ripple on the surface of the water, yet at will we may alter the gravity of nature by casting a stone into the centre and creating rings that widen till they reach the bank. A single slip may spoil many lives. The influence of a true man never dies. III. Sometimes Resolutions are Twisted. — 'A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways ' (James I. 8). I was struck with a trade sign of a general merchant ; it read: 'Dealer in everything under the sun'. I thought, 'Jack of all trades and m.'i-ster of none'. How often we hear the lament, I intended to do better, but have failed. Have you a resolve ? Is it to serve the Lord ? Does He tiiid you ever true. Can the Lord depend on you ? — A. G. Weller, Sunday Gleams, p. 102. THE GREATEST BUILDER IN THE WORLD Object — Picture of the Eiffel Tower 'Go to the ant ; . . . consider her ways.' — Proverbs vi. 6. It seems extravagant to say that the termite, or African white ant, is, without doubt, the greatest builder in the world ; yet such the following facts prove. This ant has its home in Africa, living in large numbers throughout that warm continent. Every ant-community is thoroughly organised, having, we are told, besides its regular classes of inhabitants, special classes of soldiers and builders. Latreille states that the new inhabitants added each year to a com- munity number about thirty millions ! Out of the whole number living together, the comparatively large class called builders are the most interesting. These builders are without either wings or eyes, they being bestowed upon the other classes in the community. Yet they construct what may be well termed the most wonderful buildings in the world ; for though these buildings, or cone-shaped hills, measure on the average only twelve feet in height, compared with the size and strength of the individual ant, any one of them is proportionately greater than either the Ferris Wheel or the Eiffel Tower, built by man ! The native African not infrequently climbs to the top of the termite house, and from that point can keep sharp lookout, in time of danger, against the foes of his tribe. Likewise the leader of a herd of wild African cattle posts himself upon the termite house, finding a secure footing and a good view of surroundings. The only material used by the termite is ' earth softened in the jaws of the worker, which dries quickly and becomes very hard '. The interior of the cone is most intelligently con- structed, with inner domes, supporting pillars, spiral galleries leading to the ground, shorter passages leading everywhere — to the nurseries in which the little ants are kept, to the store-rooms and granaries, and to all entrances above or below ground. The termite mother feeds her little ones upon bits of dried crumbling wood, with occasional side-dishes of different kinds of tree-gum, and drinks of water and vegetable juice. The dried wood is the staple article of their diet, while the gum and the juice, when furnished, serve the young termites in the place of sweetmeats, such as jam, sweets, and sugar. Now it is this very appetite for wood which makes the termite tribe useful in removing large quantities of dried, decayed material. But in many instances it seems to lead this ant to great destructiveness ; for, leaving the old wood which he may always find in abundance, he attacks the fresh timbers in newly erected houses, eating out the fibre until the houses one after another become very unsafe, and must be repaired or taken down altogether. We should like to stop to tell you of the termite soldier, that big ant, with great jaws and claws, who tears lazy workers that resist discipline all to pieces ; who fights the ants of other tribes, and even bird^^ 845 Vv. 6-8. PROVERBS VI Ver. 28. and snakes. But we have given enough to show that when Solomon said, ' Go to the ant,' in order that we might ' consider her ways ' and so learn to be ' wise,' he had strong reason for giving us the advice.— G. V. Reichel, What Shall I Tell the Children? p. 139. THE ANT • Go to the ant, thou sluggard ; consider her vyays, and be wise ; which having no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest' — Proverbs vi. 6-8. The wisdom taught by the ant is threefold. I. The Wisdom of Work. — If it be the hand of the diligent that maketh rich, the ants deserve to flourish ; for there are few sluggards in their nest. The great mass of the teeming population is called ' the workers '. There may be a few males and females in each community dressed in four beautiful gauze wings, and no doubt regarding themselves as very superior members of the society — the veritable aristocracy of ant life — but they never touch the work with one of their little fingers. The keeping of the nest, the gathering of the food, the care of the eggs, and the rearing of the young ants, all devolves on the shoulders of the willing workers ; and they, though they have no wings at all, and are called ' neutrals ' and some other ugly names, cheerfully undertake the whole labour, and make the entire communitv flourish through sheer hard work. And that is a splendid lesson for all young people. All great men, as well as all true ants, have been hard workers. This is the only royal road to success. What Sir Joshua Reynolds said to his students is equally true when applied to other professions : ' You must he told again and again that labour is the only price of solid fame, and that whatever your force of genius may be, there is no easy method of becoming a good painter. Nothing is denied to well-directed labour ; nothing is to be obtained without it.' Jesus Himself was a hard worker. Go, learn of the ant, and be wise. II. The Wisdom of Self- Reliance. — Solomon adds that the ants carry on their labours without ' guide, overseer, or ruler,' and that is strictly the case. The aats are a feeble people, but they are perfectly self- reliant. The bees, for instance, have a royal personage in their hive. We call her the queen. And thus we may speak of bees as we speak of ourselves, as living under a monarchical government. But the ants have no king or queen. There is no royal personage in their nest. They are rather to be regarded as staunch republicans, who can-y on their labours without any 'ruler,' guided simply by that uneri-ing instinct which imitates the actings of reason. The silly sheep may require a shepherd to take care of them, but the sagacious ants can take care of theinselves. And all boys who are worth their salt must try to learn the same lesson. Thry must learn to strike out a path for themselves, and not be content to eat the bread of idleness. Self-reliance is not selfishness, manly independence is not ignorant braggadocio. The ants toil for the common weal. They rely on one another. III. The Wisdom of Making Provision for the Future. — 'They prepare their meat in the summer.' This fact has been denied by modern entomologists. They have told us that ants are dormant in winter (at least in Europe), and, therefore, stand in no need of food. But, as one reminds us, ' we had need to be very sure of our facts when we attempt to correct the Spirit of God ' (Gosse). It has been amply ascertained that in the East and other warm countries where hibernation is impossible, ants do store up for winter use. It is even stated that these harvesting ants bite off" the radicle at the end of the seed to prevent its germinating, and occasionally bring up their stores to the surface to dry, when the tiny granary has been entered and soaked by the rain. — John Adams, King- less Folk, p. 7. THE LAMP THAT NEVER GOES OUT Proverbs vi. 28. A BEAUTIFUL thing is a good lamp when the oil is pure, and the wick well trimmed, and the flame burns clear and bright : as beautiful as it is ingenious and useful. Yet, after all, what poor things are our most splendid artificial lights — even the electric light itself — compared with that wonderful and glorious lamp which God's own hand has hung up in the sky, which liiihts half the world at once, and sends its beams to other worlds — the Sun ! When the lamp of day is kindled in the East, our lamps and candles seem to say, ' We are not wanted now ; we can go out'. The twinkling stars fade in the sky. The flowers open on every hill-side and in every meadow. Life wakes up from slumber ; and the fresh morning seems so full of joy that we could fancy the sun him- self rejoicing as he pours out such a flood of light and warmth on all living things. And so the Psalmist says the morning sun is ' as a bridegi'oom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race '. Now, can you tell what is that light which shines brighter than the sun — shining not only into the eyes, but into the understanding and heart and conscience ; which never sets like the sun, or bums dim or goes out and wants trimming and re-lighting like a lamp of man's making ; which gives us more light the more we use it ; shines brightest when trouble makes life seem dark and gloomy, and can light us even through the dark valley of the shadow of death, to the very gate of heaven ? It is the light of truth in God's holy word ; of which King Solomon says, 'The commandment is a lamp, and the law is light'; and of which the Psalmist says, ' Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path ' (Prov. vi. 28 ; Ps. cxix. 105). Thus God's word is like sunlight, because it is so glorious, and comtorting, and wide-reaching, and searching, and needful to show us the way we have to walk in and the work we have to do; and also 346 Ver. -J 8. PROVERBS VI Ver. 28. like a lamp or lantern, because we can hold it in our hand, make it our own, and use it in the smallest as well as the greatest concerns of life, just as though God meant it for us only. Let us talk a little about this Di\i:K' Lamp; and first of all note that it is — I. A Light on the Path. — Life, you know, is often compared to a journey or pilgrimage. Joy and happiness are like sunshine lighting up the landscape. Ti'oubles and trials are like clouds and storms. Diffi- culties are like rough and steep parts of the road, which try our breath and test our strength : 'uphill work' we often say. Temptations are like miry, slippery places, where if we do not walk heedfully we shall get a fall. Duty is the right road, and sin and folly are wandering from the road — climbing over the hedge, or turning into a side path that will lead us astray. Childhood and youth are the pleasant morning hours when we begin our journey, with the dew on the wayside flowers, and the lark singing in the clear sky overhead. Middle life is the hot, dustv noon, when the traveller is glad now and then to rest awhile under some shady tree by a clear-springing fountain. Old age is the eventide, when we descend the hill ; heaven is the home to which, if we are in the right way, every step brings us nearer. And what is death ? Death is the sunset, when the journey must end ; but to the true Christian it is not a winter sunset, followed by a long dark night, but onlv such a sunset as they have in the far north at midsummer, when the golden sun just dips down behind the horizon, and in a few moments rises again. Now there are two methods of taking a journey One is, to choose the right road, be it rugged mountain footpath or smooth highwav, and to keep in it till we reach our jouiney's end. The other is, to climb fences, force a way thiough gaps in hedges, trespass across fields, leap ditches, scramble up and down pathless steeps, and thus choose our own way. There is great fun, I think I hear you say, in this random sort of travelling. I don't deny it, if you are out for a holiday stroll, and have plenty of time, to ramble where you please. But life is not a holiday ramble, but a serious journey, for our Saviour teaches that it must end either in heaven or in hell ; either in His presence, 'where there is fulness of joy,' or in 'outer darkne.ss,' where there shall be ' weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth '. And there is no time to spare ; because the youngest may only have a few steps left of his journey ; and because the oldest Christian will tell you how soiTy he is to have wasted even one day in which he might have glorified his dear Lord and Master, and done good to others. So you see the only safe and happy thing is to begin life's journey in the right way, and to keep in it, fearing to take even one step out of it. When the gospel was first preached to the Saxons of Northumbiia, by Paulinus (as we read in Bede's History), and King Edwin sat in Council with his chiefs and wise men, to consult whether thev should give up their idols and believe in the Lord Jesus 34' Christ, one of the Councillors ai-ose and spoke thus : 'In winter, O King, when thou art sitting in thvhall at supper, with a great fire burning, and thy nobles and commanders around thee, sometimes a little bird flies through the hall, in at one window and out at another. The moment of his passage is sweet to him, for he feels neither cold nor tempest ; but it is short, and from the dark winter he vanishes into the dark winter again. Such, O King, seems to me the short life of man ; for we know not whence we came or whither we go. If therefore, this new doctrine can teach us anything certain, let us embrace it.' And so Edwin and his people came out of the dark winter of heathenism into the glorious liglit of the gospel, and became Christians, and destroyed their idols ; j ust as in our own day has been done in Madagascar, and in many of the South Sea Islands. So our Saviour's own preaching is described : ' The people who sat in darkness saw great light ; and to them who sat in the region and shadow of death, light is sprung up' (Matt. IV. 18). This heavenly lamp is II. A Light upon the Past. — The Bible shows us how INIan began his journey, created ' in the image of God,' and happy in loving and obeying God. It shows us his first wrong step, and how one wrong act opened the door to sin, and misery, and death. ' By one n)an sin entered into the world, and death by sin.' Some people think it very hard that Adam should be condemned for one sin, or at any rate for so trifling an act as gathering and eating fruit. They forget that there can be no such thing as a trifling sin. The action may be trifling, but sin is no trifle. It is disobedience to God. To pull a trigger and fire off" a pistol is as easy and slight an action as to pick and eat a fruit ; but if the pistol is loaded, and pointed at anyone, it is murder. One sin (as St. James teaches us) breaks God's law as truly as many sins : just as the breaking one link of a chain severs the chain as completely as if many links were broken. Besides, one sin cannot stand alone : it leads to othei-s. Sin is like leaven ; or like dry-rot in a building ; or like fever-poison : it spreads. It is like seed. One tiny thistle-down, sown and springing up, would in a few years be the parent of so many thistles, each having thousands of seeds, that if unchecked they would by and by cover the whole earth. So one sin — a small action, but a great sin — was the beginning of all the sin in the world, and of all the sorrow and pain that spring from sin. ' For the wages of sin is death.' Thus the word of God, teaching us how sin, from a small beginning, grows, and spreads, and ends in death, is A Warning Light. On the Eddystone Rock (as I dare say you know) stands a lofty tower called a lighthouse. The top of the tower is a huge lantern, the light in which is kindled every evening at dusk, and shines all night through, sending its beams for miles and miles over the sea. When fierce tempests rage, the waves some- times run up the tower and break in spra\' over its top ; but they cannot put out the light. The tower Ver. 28. PROVERBS VI., VIII Ver. 34. was built there for the sake of the light. But of what use is the light? It is a light of warning. Before the lighthouse was built, many a gallant ship stiiick on that rock, and thousands of brave mariners perished. Now the faithful light says to the sailors, as the ships come sailing on through the darkness : ' Beware ! Come not here. Turn into the harbour, or keep out to sea, and you will be safe. But keep clear of this rock, or you will perish.' And if the crew of any vessel despised the warning, and tried how close to the rock they could sail, and the ship struck on the rock and went down with all on boai'd — whose fault would it be? Their own. No one's else. If thev had obeyed the warning light they would have been saved. The Bible is God's lighthouse, to warn us of the treacherous rocks of sin, on which we are in danger of being wrecked. It is God's beacon-light, warning us to be on our guard against the assaults of temptation, and the power and craft of that great enemy of our souls, from whom we can be safe only when we ' put on the whole armour of God '. III. This glorious lamp, of which we are talking, is something still better and more hopeful than a warning light. It is A Saving Light. — In the land of Israel, in old times, there were six Cities of Refuge. Anyone who had by mischance slain some one might flee to one of these cities and be safe from the avenger. The roads to the cities were made very plain, with bridges across every stream, and at every turn a way-post with the words ' Refuge ! Refuge ! ' But the fugitive would have to flee by day ; or if the dark night over- took him on the way, he must have a lamp. The road would be of no use to him if he could not see it. So the gospel shows us 'the way of salvation,' by which we must ' flee for refuge.' It is A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb. Near the city of Rome are deep underground caverns and passages, where in ancient times the persecuted Christians met secretly for worship ; and where they buried their dead in vaults hewn in the rock. They are called the Catacombs. The passages are so numerous that it is said their length altogether may be a hundred miles. If you ventured in without a guide and a light, you would soon be lost ; and you might wander on and on till you sank and died with hunger and weariness. You would never find your way out. A whole paily of travellers was once so lost. But suppose a lost wanderer in that dark dreary labyi-inth were to think — ' God knows the way out,' and were to pray earnestly that God would show him the way. And suppose, while he was pray- ing, a guide drew neai-, with a lamp, who had come in quest of him. How joyfully he would follow that guide ! How beautiful the light of that lamp would seem to him I Suppose they passed a chamber filled with thousands of gold and silver, and the guide said, ' Shall we stop here and be rich ? ' He would reply, ' Stop here ! not for a moment I What good is silver and gold to me ? I want to get out into the daylight, and to find my way home ! ' And when he saw the daylight, at first like a dim star at the end of a long passage, but clearer and brighter at every step, how eagerly he would hasten towards it 1 With what joy he would breathe the fresh air, and climb out of the pit's mouth into the warm bright sunshine, and see the sky overhead, and 'oehold the path leading to his home ! Remember, that as the wanderer in the Catacombs would need not only a lamp but a guide, so the Holy Spirit is the Guide, without whose teaching even the Bible would be but a dark lantern. For what says St. Paul ? ' God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ ' (2 Cor. iv. 6). IV. This glorious lamp is A Liglit for Every Step. — If you were travelling among the Alps, you would often have to journey along a naiTow road, with lofty cliflTs towering up on one side of you, and awful precipices on the other. The mountains are too steep and high for you to see their top ; the precipices too overhanging for you to see down to the bottom : even to look over makes you feel giddy. One step over the edge would be death. But this matters not as long as you can see the right path and keep in it. Clouds may clothe the mountains ; mists may hide the valleys : it matters not if you have sunlight on your path. Just so, there are questions we should like to have answered, about which the Bible is silent ; mysteries too high and too deep for us, on v.'hich it sheds no light. It shines on the way of duty and on the way of salvation, and upon every step of the way. — E. R. Conder, Drops and Rocks, p. 149. NEXT YEAR ' Blessed is the man that heareth Me, watching daily at My gates, waiting at the posts of My doors.' — Proverbs viii. 34- I WISH you a Happy New Year I — when it comes — and now let me show you how to make sure it will be happy. ' Blessed is the man ' — (that means, happy is the one) — ' who does three things — hearing, watching, waiting on the Lord ' — and you can do them all to-day, and every day of the year. Hearing — that's fii'st — listening for Jesus. You do pray, do you not ? — every morning and night. That is good, that is speaking to .Jesus. But what about the answer ?^-about listening for what Jesus wants to say to you ? Do you ever do that ? There Ls a curious thing called the telephone. It is a peculiar wire, miles long sometimes, and what is spoken at one end of it is heard at the other — just as prayer lets us speak with Jesus, though He seems far away. But what if a man were to ask a question through the telephone, and then go off without waiting for the reply ? Why, it would be all one as though he hadn't asked the question at all. He should have waited and listened. And that is what 348 Ver. 22. PROVERBS XII Ver. 22 we must do after we have spoken to Jesus ! We must learn to wait for what Jesus would say to us. Try then, sometimes, to be very quiet by yourself and think, ' What would Jesus like me to do ? ' — and He will speak to you : He will put a right thought into your heart And when you read the Bible or hear it read, remember to ask, ' What would Jesus have me leai-n ? ' — and He will show you. Learn this, the first thing — to listen for Jesus. Watching — that is next You like dogs, I am sure. I do — they are so faithful, and wise, and for- giving. Haven't you noticed, then, why the dog- pleases his master so much? It is because he is always watching to see what his master wants. Every minute — at every turn of the road — you see doggie looking to his master to mark if there is anything he can do for him. That is watching in love, and it is what we have to learn for Jesus. If we try to please Him, we can't fail to please everybody else that is good. We can do it in many ways. Think in the morning, 'What can I do to- day to please Jesus ? ' — then watch, and you will soon find a way to make Him glad. But it is only as you watch you will find a way : those who ai'e not seeking never find. Do you watch ; keep Him always in mind, and you will find hundreds of ways of giving Him pleasure. Waiting — that's the third thing, and it is a great thing, though it seems so little. It means patience. There are a great many things you want to do, and want to know, and want to get, and sometimes you are very impatient about them. Learn to wait the Lord's leisure : things have to grow like the corn from the spring to the autumn, and it would do you no good to have them before they are ripe. Learn to wait : there is no good thing the Lord will keep back from you when it is ready for you, and you are ready for it Be patient — and wait on the Lord. Every day through the year try to practise these thi-ee things — hearing what Jesus wants to say ; watching for what He would like you to do, and waiting for what He will give you in His own good time. Tiy to do these, and I promise you shall have a Happy New Year — for Jesus says it : ' Happy is the man and happy is the child who listens, watches, and waits for Me.' — J. Reid Howatt, The Children's Pew, p. 253 . THE BIBLE WARNING AGAINST LYING 'Lying lips are an abomination unto the Lord.' — Proverbs XII. 22. I. We ought to mind this warning against lying — In the First Place because of ' What God "Thinks About it '.• — There is hardly any form of wickedness against which God has spoken so often and so strongly in the Bible as He has against lying. He says in one place, ' The mouth of them that speak lies shall be stopped '. In another place he says, ' A lying tongue is but for a moment ' ; and in yet another, ' He that s]ieaketh lies shall perish '. There is no greater honour to be found anywhere than they will have who are permitted to enter heaven, and see God's face, and live with Him. But how terrible it is to hear God say, ' He that telleth lies shall not taiTy in my sight '. In another place God says, ' I hate and abhor lying '. But in our text we have one of the strongest passages which the Bible gives us to show what God thinks about lying. Here we are told that, ' Lying lips are an abomina- tion unto the Lord '. Who would want to be con- sidered as an abomination by that great, and good, and holy Being, who sits upon the throne of heaven ; and whom all the angels of heaven love, and honour, and praise, and worship ? This ought to lead each of us to take our stand here, and say : ' Well, what- ever else I may do, by the help of God I am resolved that I will never tell a lie, because that will make me an abomination unto the Lord '. To know what God thinks about lying should lead us to mind the warning against it This story is told of a little boy named Willie. He was only about six years old, and was a dear good boy, very much beloved by his family, and all who knew him. Willie's father had a violin, which he often used to play for the amusement of his children in the evening. On one occasion a neighbour of theirs, whose name was Taylor, borrowed this violin, and kept it for a long time. At breakfast time one morning Willie heard his father say that he wished Mr. Taylor would send his violin back. When Willie and his brother John, a little older than himself, were coming home from school that afternoon, he said, ' Johnnie, let us go round by Mr. Taylor's and get papa's violin '. So they went. When they came near the house they met Mr. Taylor. Willie went up to him and said, ' Mr. Taylor, papa sent me to get his -^nolin '. 'AH right,' said Mr. Taylor, 'I'll send it round this evening.' Now notice, if Willie had simply told Mr. Taylor that his father wanted to have the violin back again, it would have been all right But his father had not sent him to get it ; and when Willie said he had, he did not tell the truth. ' After we left Mr. Taylor's,' said his brother Johnnie, in speaking of it afterwards, ' I noticed that Willie was very silent, and seemed troubled about something. I could not tell what was the matter. At last he started and ran towards home. When I got there I found him with his face buried in mother's lap sobbing and crying as if his heart would break. Mother asked me what was the matter. I was telling her that we had been to Mr. Taylor's about father's violin, when Willie looked up and said, as the tears rolled down his cheeks, 'I told a lie — I told a lie ! ' and then he went on sobbing as before. Pretty soon he went over to a corner of the room and knelt down. With his hands clasped, and the tears streaming down his cheeks, he confessed his sin unto God, and prayed earnestly to be forgivea And what was it which made that dear boy feel so badly on account of the untruth which he had spoken ? 349 Ver. 22. PROVERBS XII Ver. 22. It was just the thought that his lying would make him an abomination unto the Lord. He felt that he never could have a moment's peace till he was sure of God's forgiveness. About a year after this the dear boy was taken sick, and died a very happy death. That was Willie's first and only lie. If he had lived to be a hundred years old he never would have told another lie. He would always have remembered what God thinks about lying. And this would have led him to mind the warning against this sin. II. And then, the Second Reason why we ought to Mind the Bible Warning against Lying is, be- cause of ' What Men Think of it '. — Between three and four hundred years before Christ there was a famous philosopher in Greece whose name was Aris- totle. He was the teacher of that celebrated General — Alexander the Great. Aristotle was a very wise man. Somebody asked him, one day, what a man could gain by lying. The reply of the philosopher was : ' His gain will be this, that no one will believe him when he speaks the truth '. We are told that there was a distinguished poet in Italy whose name wa.s Petrarch. This man had gained for himself a well-known character for speak- ing the trath. On one occasion he had to appear in court as a witness in a certain trial. In such cases it is customary, before a witness is allowed to speak, for one of the officers of the court to get him to take a solemn oath, in which he pledges himself to speak — ' the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth '. But when the officer was about to get Petrarch to take this oath, the judge rose in his place and said — ^' Never mind, sir. It is not neces- sary for Petrarch to take that oath ; for every one knows that he never speaks anything but what is true. ' That was an honourable character for anyone to have. And these incidents show us clearly what men think about lying, and how highly those persons are esteemed who gain for themselves the reputation of always speaking the truth. In the country of Siam, in Asia, we are told that a person who tells a lie is punished according to law by having his mouth sewed up. If this law prevailed in our country, and was faithfully carried out, in going through the crowded streets how many people we should see with their mouths sewed up ! A little girl came to her mother before breakfast one morning, saying, ' Mamma, tell me what you think ; which is the worst, lying or stealing ? ' ' In- deed, I hardly know, my dear. They are both very bad. I hope you won't have anything to do with either of them.' 'Well,' said the little girl, 'I've been thinking a great deal about it, and I've come to the conclusion that it's worse to lie than to steal. For you see, if you steal anything, when you are sorry for what you have done you can take it back, unless it's something you have eaten, and even then you can go and pay for it ; but ' — and then there was a look of awe in the little girl's face — as she said, ' if it's a lie — it is there for ever ! ' The last illustration of this part of our subject may be called, ' what an English nobleman thought of lying '. The person here referred to was the famous Alger- non Sidney. He lived in the troublesome times of King Charles I. It was common then for men to be imprisoned and even put to death, simply because they held different opinions on some political mattei"s from those which were held by the heads of the governmtnt. Sidney had written a political paper and signed his name to it. The king was greatly offended by this paper. He ordered him to be arrested and put in prison. He was afterwards tried and condemned to death for what he had written. That paper was brought to him in prison. His attention was called to the signature attached to the article, and he was told that if he was willing to say that he had not signed that paper, his life would be spared, and he would be released from prison. Now here you see the great question which Algernon Sidney had to settle was this — ' Shall I tell a lie and save my life, or shall I tell the truth and lose it ? ' His answer was — ' I did sign that paper. I could save my life by telling a lie, but I would rather a thousand times tell the truth, even though my life must be the cost.' That was noble, and so the second reason why we should mind the Bible warning against lying is, be- cause of what men think of it. III. The Third Reason why we should Mind this Warning is, because of ' the Punishment which must follow Lying after Death'. — Whatever the effect of our lying may be in this life it will soon be over. But the consequences of lying, which must follow us after death, will last for ever. Now let us look at one or two illustrations which show us how the thought of the punishment, which must follow lying after death, will help to keep us from committing this sin. Our first incident is very short, but just to the point. We may call it, ' afraid of lying '. One day a little boy had been sent on an errand by his uncle. He had stopped several times on his way to watch the boys playing marbles and to look at the store windows ; but at last he remembered how long he had been gone, and then he started to run back to his uncle's workshop as fast as he could go. When he got near the shop he met one of the workmen, who said to him : — ' Why are you running yourself out of breath in that way, Charley ? Just tell your uncle that the people kept you waiting.' ' But the people didn't do it,' said Charley, ' and that would be a lie.' 'To be sure it would, but what difference would that make ? ' ' I a liar ? I tell a lie ! ' said Charley, indignantly. ' No, not if it was to escape a whipping every day. My mother always told me that lying was the first 350 Vt PROVERBS XII., XIII Ver. 15. step to ruin. I want, above all things, to go to heaven when I die, but my Bible tells me that no liar can enter heaven.' I have one other story to illustrate this part of our subject ; we may call it, ' kept from lying by fear of the future '. This story was told by an English merchant who had been very successful in his business. In talking to a friend one day he said, ' When I was fifteen years old I was in the service of Mr. C, a farmer in Yorkshire. One day Mr. C. was expecting a gentle- man from a distance to buy one of his horses. That animal had certain defects, which, if the gentleman intending to purchase it knew about, he would not be willing to take it. Mr. C. said to me, " Now, Bob, if this gentleman should ask you whether the horse has any defects, you must be sure and say. No, sir. Uo you hear ? " " Yes, sir, I hear, but I can't do that. I know the horse has defects, and I can't tell a lie about it. I never told a lie in my life, and I am not willing to begin now." This made Mr. C. very angry. ' " Well," said he, " if you don't do as I tell you, I'll give you such a horsewhipping as you'll never forget while you live." ' My answer to him was, " Sir, I can stand the horsewhipping ; but the Bible tells me that ' all liars must have their part in the lake of fire,' and that is something that I cannot stand. So my mind is made up never to tell a lie." ' Just after this the gentleman on horseback made his appearance, and began bargaining for the horse for which he offered quite a large sum. He asked a number of questions about certain defects which horses sometimes have, and he wanted to know if this horse had any of those defects. Mr. C. assured him positively that he hadn't one of them. And then to confirm what he had said he called on me and began to ask me, in the presence of the gentleman, if the horse was not perfectly sound ? In answer to this I said at once — " No, it isn't ". " What ! " ex- claimed the gentleman, " isn't it sound '? " " No, sir, it isn't, and ^Mr. C. knows that as well as I do." Then the gentleman was much offended and gave the farmer a severe rebuke, and declared that he would neither buy that horse of him, nor any other, as long as he lived. ' No sooner had he departed than Mr. C. followed me to the stable where I had gone. He shut the door, and taking a large horsewhip he laid it on me most unmercifully till my back and shoulders were black and blue. " And now," said he, " you'll know better than to disobey me another time." ' When he was going out of the stable, as I was smarting from the cruel lashes of that whip, I called out after him — " Satan is preparing a warm place for you in that lake of fire ". And now, see what took place immediately after this. The farmer went towards a large water trough in the barn-yard, where the horees used to go to drink. As he was standing there a frisky young horse came by. Raising himself on his front feet he jerked out his hind feet with great violence, and struck Mr. C. a heavy blow on the head. He fell to the ground insensible. He never rallied from that blow, and died before the next morning. Who would want to be in that man's place, and to bear the punishment for lying that would follow him after death ? The thought of that punishment is a very strong reason why we should mind the Bible warning against lying. — Richard Newton, Bible Warnings, Addresses to Children, p. 114. THE WARNING AGAINST THE TRANS- GRESSOR'S WAY ' The way of transgressors is hard.' — Proverbs xiii. 15. I. The First Thing that Helps to make the Way of the Transgressor Hard, is the ' Loss of a good Con- science ' which Follows from It. — What is con- science ? Conscience is something which God has put in our hearts or minds to encourage us to do what is right, and to warn us against doing what is wrong. It has a voice which we may well think of as the voice of God that speaks to our souls. And our happiness or misery depends very much on the way in which this voice of conscience speaks to us. VVhen we do what is right conscience speaks pleasantly to us, and that makes us feel comfortable and happy. But when we do what is wrong conscience finds fault with us and reproves us, and we cannot help feeling unhappy when this is the case. And so one of the things which helps to make the way of transgressors hard is the voice of conscience, when it is made uneasy on account of the wrong- things that we have done. This was what Solomon meant when he said, 'The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity — but a wounded spirit ' — -or the voice of an uneasy, or guilty conscience — ' who can bear?' We have a good illustration of this part of our subject in the case of Judas Iscariot. Shortly after he had betrayed his master, Our Blessed Saviour, he went and hanged himself Now why did he do this ? He had nothing to fear in the way of punishment from the Jewish rulers. Nobody would have hurt him for what he had done. Then why did he go and hang himself? It was because of the trouble which his conscience gave him for what he had done. If you and I had been near Judas then, and could have listened to the voice of his conscience, we should have heard it saying to him something like this : ' You are a vile and miserable wretch I You have done the basest and the wickedest thing that ever a man did. You are not fit to live. Every one who sees you will despise you and point the finger of scorn at you ! ' This was more than .ludas could stand. Who could stand this? We do not wonder that under these circumstances Judas did go and hang himself. And as we think of his dead body hanging on the tree what a striking illustration we have here that ' The way of transgressors is hard '. I have one other illustration here. We may call it, ' a sailor's sad experience '. 351 Ver. 15. PROVERBS XIII Ver. 15 This sailor was the captain of a large merchant ship. In one of his voyages he came in sight of a vessel that had been wrecked in mid-ocean, and was in a sinking condition. He saw the signals of distress and heard the shrieks of the men and women crowding the decks ; but he kept on his course and would not stop. The officers and crew implored him to stop, and offered, at the risk of their own lives, to try and save the poor creatures from the sinking ship. But the captain would not listen to them. This was very unlike what true sailors are. They are generally un- selfish, and ready, at any risk, to help those who are in trouble. And what led that captain to act in this selfish and cruel way ? Let me tell you. It was the love of money. His vessel was loaded with a very costly cargo. At the port for which he was sailing the goods he had on board were in great demand, and brought a very high price. Another vessel had sailed the same day from the port he had left, laden with the same kind of cargo, and going to the same port. The captain felt sure that if he reached port before the other vessel, he would certainly make enormous profits. So he sailed on his course and left the crew and passengers, clinging to that wrecked vessel, to go down in the deep waters, unhelped. Before the end of the voyage he got each person on board the ship to promise never to tell about the loss of that wrecked vessel, and he rewarded them for doing so. Then he reached port several days before the other vessel. He became very rich from the sale of his cargo ; but he lived and died a misei-able man. He never could forget that sinking wreck and the poor creatures who went down with it. The thought of it tortured him by day and occupied his dreams by night. He had a splendid house by the seaside, but when the storms swept by he fancied he could hear, in the wail of the winds, the wild shrieks of the men and women whom he might have saved, but did not. Sometimes he would start from his sleep, giving out the command, ' Lower the boat,' only to find the cold sweat of agony on his brow and to feel his tortured conscience gnawing like a serpent at his heart. He found that ' The way of ti'ansgressors is hard '. And the first thing that makes it so is the loss of a good conscience. II. The Second Thing that makes the Way of the Transgressor Hard is ' the Loss of Character ' which Follows from it. — We see how this was in the case of Adam and Eva When God created them they were pure and holy beings. Their charactei's were perfect. God placed them in that beautiful garden of Eden which He had prepared for them. There they had everything they could desire to make them happy. God was their Father and Friend, and the angels were their companions. They could walk about that lovely garden, and eat of the fruit of all the trees that grew there, except one. That was called — ' the tree of the knowledge of good and evil '. God had told them that they must not eat of the fruit of that tree. This was the only commaiuhnent which God gave them. Now surely they might have been willing to obey this one command, and let that tree alone. If they had only done this they never would have lost the good character which they then had, and they might have lived in paradise all their days. But Satan found his way into that garden. He tempted them to break that command. They ate of the fi-uit of the tree, which God had said they must not eat. Then they lost their character as good and holy beings, and were driven out of that lovely garden never to enter it again. And as they went out, poor miserable sinners, though they had never heard these words of Solomon, they must have felt that ' The way of transgressors is hard '. A letter carrier in one of our large cities found, on reaching the post office after going round his beat, a letter at the bottom of his bag which he had failed to deliver. He ought to have gone right back at once and delivered that letter. But he was tired and hungry. He thought it was only an ordinary letter of no particular importance, so he thrust it into his pocket to be delivered the next day. Thus he failed of doing his duty. This was his transgression. And what was the result of this neglected act of duty ? For want of that letter a great firm failed to meet their engagements ; their notes were protested, a large mill was closed, and hundreds of poor work- men were thrown out of employment. And what was the effect on the letter carrier him- self? He lost his character. He was discharged from his office, and his family suffered all through that winter for want of the necessaries of life. Surely he found ' the way of transgressors was hard ! ' III. The Third Thing which malces the Way of the Transgressors Hard is 'the Loss of Useful- ness ' resulting from it. ' It is a very hard thing to have our ability for use- fulness taken away from us. Here is a good illustra- tion of what I mean. Suppose we have before us a mariner's compass. It is a round box about six inches wide with a glass cover over it. If we look into this box we see at the bottom a sheet of white paper that fits closely into it. On the surface of this pajjer we see a circular ring printed, with east and west and north and south, and all the points of the compass marked on it. In the middle of the box is a smooth piece of steel in the shape of a flat needle. It is fixed on the point of an ujiright piece of iron, so that it can easily turn round in any direction. God has given to that needle the power of pointing to the north at all times and in all places. This is a wonderful power. We call it magnetism. We do not know what it is. But it is this power which that little needle has of turning to the north which makes the mariner's compa.ss so useful. The sailor takes it with him as he sails over the ocean, and thus he is able to steer his vessel in the right direction, wherever he may be. But if anything could be done which would take away from that little needle the power which it has of turning to the north, then all its usefulness would be gone. It would no longer do the sailor any 352 Ver. 15. PROVERBS XIII Ver. 15. good. He would not care to take it with him any more. And what the magnetism of that little needle, or its power of turning to the north, is to the mariner's compass, the power of making ourselves useful is to us. If people know that we are trying to do right ; if they are sure that we are honest and true, then there is no telling what good we may do and how useful we may be. But if we do what is wrong, if we allow ourselves to go in the way of transgressors, then we lose our character, and that must take away very much our power of being useful. Some years ago a man became insane from the accusations of his conscience for having neglected his duty. He had been a watchman on a railroad bridge in Connecticut. When at his post the duty expected of him was to throw up a signal light when the draw in the bridge was open, so that trains coming along might see it in time to stop before reaching the open- ing in the bridge. One dark night he allowed him- self to fall asleep in.stead of going out and hoisting the signal in time to give warning to any train that might be coming along. Presently an express train came rushing by. No signal light was seen. That train did not stop, but on it pushed till it plunged into that opening in the bridge. There was an awful wreck. A great number of unfortunate persons were crushed to death, and many more were fearfully wounded. VVhen the guilty watchman was searched for the next day it was found that the thought of the ter- rible evil he had done had made him crazy, and all that he could say was, ' Oh ! that I had only done my duty ! ' With a frightful look he muttered these words over and over again. After this the remaining years of his life were spent in an insane asylum ; but every dav, till the day of his death, he was heard re- peating the same sad words, ' Oh ! that I had only done my duty ! ' Surely that poor man found the way of transgressors a hard way. IV. But there is a Fourth Thing that makes the Way of Transgressors Hard, and that is ' The Loss of the Soul '. — It is quite possible for any trans- gressor to save his soul and get to heaven. The greatest transgressor that ever trod the earth, if he will only repent and believe in .Jesus, may find his way to heaven. We know very well that — ' when Jesus had overcome the sharpness of death, he opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers '. But when we go into the way of transgressors we do not know that we shall ever have an opportunity of repenting and believing in Jesus. And then, no matter what part of the transgressors' way we may have walked in, we shall find it a hard way, because it will be sure to bring the loss of heaven to us. And if we lose heaven, the only thing that can remain for us will be — everlasting punishment. And that must be a hard way to walk in, which is likely to lead to such an end as this. In a seaport town on the west coast of England, some years ago, notice was given of a sermon to be j)reached one Sunday evening on the pioper observ- ance of the Sabbath. The minister who was to preach on this occasion was very eloquent, and a large congregation met to hear him. xVfter the usual service was over, and the hymn sung, the minister gave out his text, and was about to begin his sermon, when he suddenly paused, leaned his head on his hand, rested his elbow on the pulpit, and remained silent for a few moments. Some of his friends were afraid that he was feeling unwell. But he soon straightened himself up, and looking round on the congregation, he said : ' My friends, before beginning my sermon, I ask your kind indulgence while I relate to you a short anecdote. ' It is now fifteen years since I was last within this place of worship. The minister who preached on that occasion was the beloved and venerable man who was then the pastor of this church. The subject of the discourse that night was the same that has brought us together this evening — the proper observance of the Sabbath. Among those who came to the church that evening were three young men. They were wild, un- godly, drinking men, who were already far gone in the way of tiansgressors, and who came that night, not only for the purpose of insulting and mocking the venerable pastor, but with stones in their pockets to throw at him as he stood in this pulpit. ' The minister had not gone on very far with his sermon when one of the young men said to his com- panions, " What's the use of listening to the old fool any longer? Let's throw now." But the second one stopped him, saying, "Let's see first what he is going to make out of the point of the sermon which he has just begun". But the young man's curiosity was soon satisfied, and he said : " Oh, confound him ! it's all nonsense, just as I expected. Let's throw now ! " But the thu-d one of their company then said : " Boys, I think we had better give up altogether the bad in- tention which brought us here ". On hearing this his companions were greatly offended, and immediately left the church, while he remained till the close of the service. Those two young men went on in the way of transgressors, while their companion made up his mind to stop, and not walk in that way any longei'. ' And now, my friends,' continued the minister, with great feeling, ' Let me tell you about the after history of those three young men. Of the two who left the church that night one was hanged several years ago at Tyburn, for the crime of forgery ; the other was lately hung for murder. They died with the burden of their sins still upon them, and thus they lost their souls ; the third ' — and here the speaker's voice failed. He was greatly agitated, and paused awhile to wipe away the big tear-drops from his face — ' the third is he who is now about to address you — listen to him.' Let us all ask God to give us grace to keep out of the transgressor's way. — Richard Newton, Bible Warnings,, Addresses to Children, p. 91. Ver. 12. PROVERBS XIV Ver. 12. AT THE PARTING OF THE WAYS Proverbs xiv. 12. I WAS one day sittuig in a railway car which I ex- pected to take me to a little town called Newburgh, and we came to a parting of the ways called the Ladybank Junction. At this point, as I learned afterwards, the train divided, and o.ne portion went on to Dundee — the other, by Newburgh to Perth. I heard the guards cry out quite plainly, ' Change here for Dundee ' ; but I did not heaa- ' Change for Newburgh and Perth '. I said to a gentleman beside me, ' Are we right ? ' ' All right, sir ; I'm going your way too.' And the train moved on. The next station on the right road should have been Collessie. The station we actually stopped at was called Springfield. ' This is not Collessie, I said to my fellow-passenger, the man who was going my way too. ' Oh, it's all right — Springfield and Collessie ■ — two names for the same place, ' said he. After Collessie we should have come to Newburgh, the little town at which I was due. Instead of that I saw a great spreading town, with towers and church spires rising above the roofs. The man beside me was now fairly roused ; and he cried in a very loud voice, ' We're wrong, sir, we're in the wi'ong train. We should have changed carriages at Ladybank. This is Cupar, on the road to Dundee.' And here I was — within an hour or two of the time I should have been at Newburgh — a good twelve miles away from it, and no train back for three hours to come ! But while I lounged about the station and sat in the waiting room, I began to think of mistakes on journeys, of wrong roads, of the hardships and losses of taking wrong roads, and of the need which there is of looking well after right roads. I remembered the Bible proverb which says, ' There is a way which seemeth right unto a man ; but the end thereof are the ways of death '. I thought of the great journey of life, and of roads on that journey which seem to be right, but are wrong. And it came into my mind, that my thoughts, sad though they were at the time, might, if I could put them into words, be very useful words of warning to children. The road I went that day, in my journey to New- burgh, seemed to be the right one, but was not. I want to tell you of roads on a far greater journey — the journey of life — which seem to be light roads but are not. And I want to show you, besides, the need of watching— where I that day failed to watch — at the parting of the ways. I. There is one road which it is very natural for both young and old to travel, which we all like to travel, and to travel often. This is the road to pleasure. And it is a road God means us to travel. For He has placed us in a bright and beautiful world ; and He has given us the power of being happy in His world. Youth is just the beginning of our journey on this road. And I do not know any sight more delightful than the sight of young people moving forward on innocent, natural pleasures. But on this , as on every other we enter, there are breaks and partings of the way, and great need of watch- fulness in consequence, that in our pursuit of happi- ness we do not go astray. My first word to you this morning, therefore, will be — 'Beware, in life's journey, of the places where pleasure parts from Christian companionship ! ' What can be sadder than the contrast between the happiness sought after, by the same young heart often, at ten and at twenty ! At both ages there is an earnest, eager pursuit of joy. But it is a joy mixed with the smiles and love of innocent com- panions at the one period, and destitute of them at the other. And the sorrowful thing is that young people pass into the new bad way of seeking happi- ness, often without knowing that it is bad. It is a way which seems right to them at the time, but the end of it is death. In a certain northern city once there lived a family of boys. They were as happy as the day was long. They had a happy home. 'They were happy in a good mother and father, lliey were happy at school and at play. And the secret was this : their mother had learned to live in the smile of Christ. And she made that smile shine on everything and everybody round about her. Her children began the day with Christ, and ended it with Christ. Their mother managed it so, that there was nothing gloomy in prayer, in family worship, or in going to church. The boys were taught to understand that Chi'ist's eye was resting on them, and following them wherever they went, and that it was a friendly eye — the eye of a brother. In a real sense Christ was a friend and companion to them. Many a time on the Sabbath evening, when they were fjinging hymns at their mother's knee, the thought passed through their minds that nobody could be happier than they. By and by the young boys hacl become young men. But they did not all walk in the path in which their early happiness had been found. They no longer cared to have Christ, or their Christian mother, for their companions. Two of them struck out for them- selves on strange new paths, with strange new com- panions, and strange new joys. They attended low casinos, vile dog-fighting saloons, horse-races, and gambling houses. They knew the way to the wine shops. And they forgot the church, and the hymns they used to sing, and theu* mother's saintly counsels, and all good ways. Their happiness now was to follow evildoers and evil ways. It was no use speaking to them. Others went these ways ; and why not they ? They were not going to be tied to their boyish ways for ever. They would .seek happiness in their own way. And they sought it for years in that way, and never found it. And all the sweetness died out of their life ; and all the early innocence ; and all the reverence for theii' parents ; and all reverence for God. And they became hard, and narrow, and vile, and hateful. The happiness they followed after was Christless. And at last it ceased to be happiness. The end of it was death. 354 Ver. 12. PROVERBS XIV Ver. 12. II. There is another road we all like to travel. I shall name it the road beautiful. Old and young of us, we are all fond of beauty, and we desire to be beautiful ourselves. It is not a wrong desire. God has put it deep down in every heart. It is a joy to Him when we grow up beautiful. And He has laid down a great line of way — the line of loving-heartedness — on which the most heavenlv beauty may be reached. But there are side- lines not made by God, where beauty parts from that which makes it beauty. My second warning, therefore, is — ' Beware, in life's journey, of those breaks where Beauty parts from Loving-heartedness '. Here is the right road, where beauty and the loving heart go together — Christ's road. There is the wrong one, where beauty turns away from love. On the one, love makes heart and face beautiful with Divine beauty. It fills the heart with sweetness, and purity, and humility. And these are the great and best beautifiers. On the other, beauty goes the wi-ong way, the way where love is not. And the heart is filled with pride, and scorn, and envy, and hate. And at the end of this way the beauty is all dead and gone. There was, about thirty years ago, a very beautiful child living in the same city I referred to before. Everybody said of her when a child, 'How beautiful she looks!' And she looked very beautiful. At school the other girls were struck with her beauty. She was all over beautiful, and had beautiful hair, beautiful eyes, a beautiful face and figure. Her very feet were beautiful. But although the loving Christ had made this beauty, the beautiful girl would not travel on the same line with Christ's love. She turned aside on a line of her own. She would go where pride, and vanity, and scorn of othei's were. As she grew into womanhood there grew up in her heart pride in her own beauty. She said to herself, ' I am more beautiful than Jane or Maiy or Margai-et by my side '. She ceased to love Jane and Maiy and Margaret. She did not care to remember that Christ might love them very dearly. She cared neither for Christ nor them. She cared only for herself. It was herself she admired and worshipped. As she looked at herself in the glass, she said, ' I am more beautiful than my sister, more beautiful than ever my mother was '. As she said such things, love for her sister and her mother took flight and left her heart. She could no longer love mother, sisters, or school companions. The poor, vain, empty soul of her loved only herself. Her beauty was her snare, and took her away first from Christ, and then from human love. But then came God's wrath upon her wickedness. She became a fine lady, had a fine house, a coach, many servants, had the same hair, the same eyes, the same face and figure. But somehow the beauty had all departed. She was no longer beauti- ful. Mary, Jane, and Margaret, and all her sisters had grown up to be very beautiful. There was a quiet harvest-evening-like beauty still resting on the face of her mother. But nobody thought the proud daughter beautiful. People spoke of her as haughty, unfeeling, and hard, but never more as beautiful. The path she chose to travel on seemed good to her- self; but the end of it was death. For want of a loving heart in it, her beauty had died. And as for admiration or love, she had neither the one nor the other from man or woman, from angels or God. III. My thu-d warning is this — ' Beware of the places, in life's journey, where Cleverness parts from Goodness ! ' A good child may be very clever ; but there are clever children who have no goodness at all. God would have the two in company, cleverness and goodness together, the two always moving along the same path. But the road to cleverness is one on which there are many partings of the way ; and many and many a poor young soul turns aside and takes the path of cleverness without goodness. That was the case with a school companion of mine. His story is so sad in itself, and so painful to tell, that I am almost sorry I require to tell it. He v/as one of the cleverest boys I ever knew, and he was as obliging as he was clever ; and he was very comely. I think I see him still, tall, well made, with long, waving, yellow hau-, and the bluest and happiest-look- ing eyes. Everything he did vvas cleverly done ; everything he said was clever. He was far and away the cleverest boy at school. He took all the first prizes ; and every boy in the school thought he de- served to take them. When he went to the university he took the same first place in almost all the classes. In the medical classes, to which he next went, he had the highest marks. And his career in these classes for two or three years was so bright with excellence that both professors and students were proud of him. But long before the time I am describing, this bright and clever boy had turned aside from goodness ; he scoffed at goodness. He went aside — trusting to his mere cleverness — to bad ways, to bad companions. He went to vile places and spent his cleverness on sin. Then he forgot his books, got careless in his classes — still trusting to his cleverness — and was actually turned back at the end. Then he took his cleverness into wild society, and became drunken. Then he got into debt, and took money which was not his own. Then, as many bad people do when they get into trouble, he blamed othei-s for his troubles, and sent a letter to an uncle, in which he threatened to kill his uncle unless money was sent to him. Then he was hunted out and arrested by the police, and shut up in gaol and tried and banished. And oh, me ! then, in his far banishment, he became worse and worse, and at last was put to death for his crimes. He parted from Christ's goodness. It seemed to him at the time that that was a right movement to make. He did not believe in Christ. The badness of his life made it impossible for him to believe in Christ. He was clever ; and he knew it, and trusted to it, and entered on a path where cleverness was not the servant of Christ. The way seemed right to him no doubt ; but the end of it was death. His very 355 Ver. 12. PROVERBS XIV Ver. 12. cleverness died out of him. He himself died, while he was still young, the bitter, shameful death I have named, in Norfolk Island, over the sea. IV. By and by all the boys I am addressing will be looking out for an opening into a well-frequented road — the road to business and money-making. Now that is not a bad road to travel. God made business and money too. And He has laid down straight lines along which business people may move forward with good hope and cheer. God means us all to be busy, and He helps some business people to become rich. But there is one thing which should never be forgotten. His blessing on that road, as on every other, rests only where Christ is. And where Christ is not, in business, or money-making, or anything else, the thing of God which is most real is His wrath. My next waining, therefore, is — ' Bewaie when Business and Money-making part from Christ ! ' Honesty and fair dealing are ways of Christ And nobleness and service to mankind are possible to those who travel by these ways. With Christ in it, busi- ness moves along j ust those lines of honesty, fair deal- ing, nobleness, and service to mankind. People may be very busy and be honest in all they do. They may also be very busy and have no honesty at all. And there are plenty of people who will tell you that business and honesty cannot go together in this world, and other people who delibei'ately put honesty aside. It is a wav which seems right to them ; but the end of it is death. I knew a young lad who had been a very excellent Sunday school teacher, and was intended for the ministry ; but some circumstance connected with his family caused him to enter into business. He was very well fitted in some respects to do business ; but in one respect, as it turned out, he was not fitted at all. He looked on business life as a different kind of life from Sabbath school life, or Church life. He said, 'Things must be done in business which would not bear to be spoken of on Sunday '. And when he had once gone a little way in this fatal error, he went greedily and madly further and further, and parted from Christ utterly in his whole business career. One night he was alone in his office. The office windows looked out upon the sea. The sea breeze came gently up over the sleeping town in which he lived. The town lamps were shining in every street. His young wife was waiting for him, wondering at his lateness, in her new parlour. He had been sitting three hours with the pen in his hand, wishing to do what by and by he did, but without the bad courage to do it. At last, between eleven and twelve, he did it. Sitting all alone there he did what he had been meditating to do. It was a little thing he did. To look at, it was as insignificant as the turning aside of the train to a branch line of the railway. He wrote down on a bank bill a name that was not his own ; that was all. It was that which made the sweat come hot and cold on his brow, and hands, a dozen times that night as he sat alone. Did not other people do it ? It was done every day, he said ; it is only the discovery which is bad. This would not be discovered for six weeks ; and in five weeks he would get back the bill and destroy it. He did not want to rob the man whose n^me he used : he only wanted to use it for his own ends. He made himself believe that it was a right way to take, to get out of a difficulty. But the end of it was death. By that one little bit of writing he had committed the ci-ime of forgery. It was a criminal who came home late, and pale, and cold that night to the poor young creature to whom he was so recently married. It was a criminal's terror which hung over him for the five weeks which followed. And on the sixth week he was in a criminal's cell for forgery. The way he took killed his good name and his happiness. And the happiness of his young wife was blasted. And he was sent for ten long years to the hulks, to toil among felons as a slave. But I must not leave you to suppose that it is only when people do dishonest things that they take wrong roads in business and money-making. There are hundreds of business men who would put their right hand in the fire rather than do a dishonest thing, who are yet on wrong roads in all their money- making. It was only the other year — many will remember the story — that a well-known meuiber of Parliament suddenly disappeared, and for several days no tidings could be heard of him. He was a money-maker ; and he had made .so much that he was thought the richest man but one in London. Money-making was his life, his joy, his hope, his god. He had gone to Parliament, just because that would help him to make m-.>re money. And, as it happened, our terrible Crimean War had just begun, and this man watched the turnings and shiftings of the war, and went in to make such a fortune as no other man could match. But some way or other things did not turn out on one occasion as he expected ; and instead of making a new fortune, he lo.st all he had made before ! He had not one shilling left. In one hour the riches he had been gathering for a lifetime took wings and flew away. A godly money-maker would have known that everything was not lost, though his money was. He would have God's help and mercy to go back upon. He would have stayed up his soul on the Rock of Ages, and hidden in its clefts until the storm went past. And he would have said, ' God is better to me than thousands of gold and silver'. But this man had no Rock of Ages to go back upon, nor any green clefts to hide in. Riches had been his god ; and they took wings and flew away. He felt himself thrust back into utter darkness and want and poverty. So he left the House of Commons one evening and took a bottle of poison, and went out of London, out to a lonely heath, out alone in the darkness of that night, out from all life and all human joy, and drank the poison there, under the stars of God— and died. 356 V'er. '2(i. PROVERBS XIV Ver. 26. His way seemed right to him, no doubt, once. But you see the end of it, since Christ was not in it, was death. These are very sad stories I have been telling you ; but if they help you to see that there is no happiness, nor beauty, nor cleverness, nor right money-making unless Christ and His life and ways be at the heart of them, the stories will not have been told in vain. — Alexander Macleod, Talking to the Children, p. 3. THE CHILDREN'S CITV OF REFUGE ' In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence, and His children shall have a place of refuge.'— Proverbs xiv. 26. In a beautiful verse of one of the Psalms when the writer speaks about ' telling the towers, and mai'king the bulwarks' of the city, he adds, 'Consider her palaces' (Ps. xlviii. 13). The walls and bulwarks, the towers and arsenal and armoury, are all for defence ; but let us enter now for a little her ' Palace,' the abode of the King. There are many ubjects of interest which meet our eye there. Let me select one or two. L There is the Banqueting- haU. This is the Royal chamber where the King entertains His guests. The provisions with which He there supplies His people are the Promises of the Gospel ; spiritual food — better far than the fabled ambrosial fruits and nectar of the heathen gods. He says of these promises that they are all in Christ, ' yea and Amen ' to them that believe (2 Cor. i. 20). That is to say, they are every one of them quite true : we may be certain they will not fail us. They are for the young as well as for the old : the weak as well as the strong may par- take of the royal dainties. Perhajis you can repeat to me some words from the Prophet Isaiah, which strikingly describe this Gospel feast : with its special peculiarity that it is to be for all ? Yes, ' In this mountain shall the Lord of Hosts make unto all people a feast of tat things, of fat things, full of maiTow, of wines on the lees well re- fined ' (Is. XXV. 6). How hearty and kind is the King's welcome I His words to every guest seated at His table are, ' Eat, O friends, drink, yea drink abun- dantly, O beloved ' (Sol. Song v. 1). II. Let me conduct you to another room in the Palace. It is the Royal Library. You know what a library is ? You have seen your father's again and again. I dare sav some of you like, at one time to take out the old big folios ; at another, the more modern books locked up within glass doors. God's Palace Library is filled with volumes. I cannot venture to speak of them all. There are the venerable volumes of the Divine Faithfulness, with their ancient bindings ; volumes which God has been writing for 6000 years. On their title page are the words, ' Yea, I have loved you with an everlasting love .' There are the volumes of the Divine Justice ; their frontispiece represents a figure, with balances, weigh- ing out what is righteous and unerring. There are the volumes of Divine Providence. These are various. Some are bound in white and gold, beautifully illuminated : otheis ai'e of sombre hue, with black edges and black lettering. But all are written by the same loving hand ; all bear the same loving motto, ' Your Father knoweth that ye have need of these things '. There is the volume oi Divine Love, with its bright picturings. Its fiontispiece is that of a shepherd who has rescued a lamb from the thorny thicket, and is bearing the wanderer on his shoulders home. There are large volumes full of gracious sayings for the aged ; and there is a bookcase full of little vol- umes with special sayings for the young. In these, the words, in gilded letters, are inscribed above : ' They that seek Me early shall find Me '. III. Finally, ere we quit the Palace, let us follow a spiral staircase which leads up to the Belfry ; with a clock-tower rising high above the other buildings ; high above walls, and bulwarks, and arsenal. Its bell is heard far and near. Hear it ! it is even now sounding. It is morning. The mist is still brooding over the river, the early fii-es are just lighted ; for you see the first coil of blue smoke rising from the housetops in the clear crisp air. As the bell ceases, the clock strikes. We listen 1 and its little tongue of iron counts over the number six. The King's servants all begin forthwith their work. Some are building walls ; some are strengthening de- fences ; some are employed in the royal gardens ; some are carrying pitchers of water from the fountain ; but all are busy. It is to you I specially refer when I speak of the clock of time thus striking the hour of six. That is about the age, I think, of the youngest of you here. Six o'clock ! It is time for you to go and enter the King's service ; to begin to love and serve Him, and in your own lowly way to work for Him. Take the words which were once upon the hps of the King's Divine Son, and make them your own. Let their sound ring in your ears all your life long : ' I must work the works of Him that sent Me while it is day, the night cometh when no man can work ' (John ix. And I would add, not only while it is day, but ' while it is yet early day '. Do you remember what Jesus, another time, said to His disciples about 'a place of refuge ' ? He spoke to them of a city called Pella on the other side of the Jordan, to which they were to flee in the hour of danger, and the advice and command He gave them, He repeats in another, truer, higher sense to you, ' Pray ye that your flight be not in the winter ' (Matt. xxrv. 20). i)o not put off" re- pairing to Him till the winter of old agt' overtake you. That is a bad time, the worst of all times to iflee for safety, when the snow is falling, and the icicles are on the rocks, and the storms are sweeping over the mountains. Flee, not even in the summer of life if you can help it ; for the sun is then hot, and the 357 Ver. 26. PROVERBS XIV Ver. 26. steep dusty road to the city will not be easy to climb in the burning noontide. But go in spring ; go in that sweet season of early life, when the air is balmy, and the birds are singing, and the young limbs are strong and nimble for the journey. Now is the best time : now is the accepted time : now may be the only time. — J. R. Macduff, Hosann^a of the Children, p. 326. THE PLACE OF REFUGE • His children shall have a place of refuge.' — Proverbs xiv. 26. I WISH you (and God also wishes you) to feel quite safe. Perhaps you say, ' I do feel quite safe '. But some time or other you will not feel quite safe. But God wishes you always to feel quite safe, and there- fore He says what I have i-ead that ' His children shall have a place of refuge,' that they may be quite safe. Do you know what ' refuge ' means ? What is ' a refuge ' ? A few weeks ago I went to Portland. At Portland there is what is cabled ' a harbour of refuge ' — a beautiful place — I should like you all to see it. There runs out into the sea, between one and two miles in length, a strong wall of such very big stones — so strong that a railway goes along it. I think it has been built within the last two or three years, to make a ' harbour of refuge '. One side, as you go along, it is such smooth water — on the left, as you go out, it is all quite smooth ; on the other side it is very rough sometimes ; but, however rough the sea may be on the right side, it is always smooth on the left. In London there are a great many places called ' refuges '. Did you ever hear of them ? They are for very poor people. There are many boys and girls — and men and women too — who have no home, no place to go to bed at night. But in the long, long, winter nights, when bitterly cold, they may go, if they like, to these ' refuges ' ; there is a warm fire, and a roof over their heads, and some bread given them at night, and also in the morning. These places are called ' refuges '. I should like to tell you about a boy, or rather a young man of eighteen years of age, who went into one of these ' homes ' or ' refuges,' where there were hundreds in the house. He became very good by going into the ' refuge '. I will tell you how it began. The superintendent said to him, ' What is your name ? ' He quickly replied, ' Thomas Smith '. The superintendent was quite sure that was not true ; he was so accustomed to look into people's faces that he generally could detect when truth was spoken. He was sure this was a lie. So what do you think he said to him ? ' My boy, have you a mother ? ' ' Yes, a long way off. ' ' Does your mother know about your being here, and your bad ways ? ' He said, ' No, I hope not '. ' Do you love your mother ! and ever think of her ? ' He answered : ' When I was a little boy I had a rabbit, and my mother used to love it ; and when I had my rabbit in my arms my mother would come and stroke it and praise it, and say, " Pretty rabbit " ; and her soft hand, when stroking it, would come over mine. Oh ! I remember her soft hand. I wish her soft hand were on me now ? ' ' What is your name, my boy ? ' ' Richard Revering, su- ! ' He thought of his mother's soft hand, and he could not tell a lie again. Oh, children, think of your dear mother ! That man afterwards became a pious man ; but that is the way it began. There ought to be no mothers present ; but if there are, O that you would remember the power of ' a mother's soft hand ! ' And now in the Bible let us think of ' refuges '. Can you think of any ? I think you will find that God never sent any trouble upon the world till He had first made ' a refuge ' where His own children could go. Now, when the flood came, God did not let a drop of rain fall till the ark was built, and everybody who liked might go in and escape ; and all who loved God did go in. We read when God destroyed Sodom and Go- morrah there was little ' Zoar,' where Lot went and his daughtei's ; and God did not let any brimstone come down till Lot was safe in ' Zoar '. And when God destroyed Jerusalem, He did just the same. Do you remember the twenty-fourth of Matthew ? Christ told His disciples that all Chris- tians were to ' fly to the mountains ' when Jerusalem was besieged. Titus, the Roman emperor, brought his army around Jerusalem, and the Christians could not escape. How could they flee ' to the mountains ' ? They could not. When all of a sudden — no one could tell why, and no one has been able to guess why — Titus commanded his troops to go back ; and, during that day, the Christians escaped to a place called Pella, in the hills. It was ' a place of refuge '. His people will have 'a place of refuge'. God will take care of them. And I dare say you remember in the thirty-fifth of Numbers there is an account of the six ' cities of refuge '. It was a very strange thing — those ' cities of refuge '. God appointed that theie should be six cities in the land of the Jews, that if anybody killed a person by accident, if he ran to and got within the ' city of refuge,' he should be safe : if not, the nearest relation to the person kiDed, called 'the avenger of blood,' should kill him. And God took care to put these ' cities of refuge ' so accessible to every part of the land that they might the easier be reached. So that if a person was un- fortunate enough to kill anybody the law enabled him to flee there, and the roads thereto were very good — kept even better than others ; and if the man escaping should come to two roads, and be uncertain which to take, there was a post directing him ; and when he arrived at ' the city of refuge," he was to knock, and he would be admitted, and be quite safe. Now I am going to think what is our ' place of 358 Ver. 26. PROVERBS XIV Ver. 26. refuge '. Has God any ' place of refuge ' for us ? I ■wonder whether you have thought of the same as I have ? I have thought of two very near together — the bosom of Jesus, and the wounds of Jesus. These are our two ' places of refuge '. We'll think a little about them ; and you can never have any trouble in all the world in your body or your soul, by night or by day, outward or inward, but you can find your ' refuge,' your safe hiding-place, if you go to the bosom of Jesus, or to the wounds of Jesus. I. First, the bosom of Jesus. Who lay upon His bosom ? Who lay upon Jesus' bosom ? Do you remember ? John. And how safe John must have felt when lying there. I don't think, when John was lying there, he would care for all the trouble in the world. How little mattered his troubles, or the laughs of men, if he could lie there ! And I am sure it is your ' place of refuge ' ; for it is said, ' He shall carry the lambs in His bosom '. And you are ' the lambs '. He says so particularly. Do you remember when Jesus called the little children to Him ? Have you ever thought very accurately about it ? How do you think He took the little children up ? I think He took them up by one arm : lifted them very close to His bosom ; then with the other hand He blessed them ; for it says, ' He took them up in His arms, and blessed them'. One hand must have been under them, the other over them. One to support them, the other to bless them. I should like to tell you a very sweet thing which a little Chinese boy said. It was very simple ; he was a very little boy, I think about four or five years old. He had been brought up as a heathen, but had heard of Jesus Christ, and wished to be baptised. His father said, ' Oh no ! you ai-e not old enough to be baptised '. He replied, ' Father, I don't think so — because Jesus said that He would " carry little children in His bosom " ; and now I am so very little, it would be easier for Jesus to carry me.' Jesus, of couree, can carry anybody ; but T think it is a pretty thought — ' Now I am so very little, it will be easier for Jesus to carry me ! ' II. The other 'place of refuge' is the wounds of Jesus. How many wounds had He ? Five. I re- member once telling you about a beautiful hymn by Herbert, called ' The Post Bag ' : a bag in which every- thing is to go, and that bag is the wounds of Jesus. You can put anything into that bag, and He will take it to heaven. If you have not read that poem, I should advise you to do so ; for it is very nice. Now, how are we to go to our ' refuge ' ? — you remember what it is — the bosom of Jesus, and the wounds of Jesus. Now what do you think will make us go to Jesus ? What have we to flee from ? The first thing I should say is trouble. When we have any trouble — I hope you have not much trouble, but you have some troubles, haven't you ? and when you have trouble — be it pain, or when anybody is unkind to you, or you are anxious about anything, or you are disappointed, remember your 'refuge'; and your ' refuge ' where you ai-e to go is to the bosom of Jesus, when you are in trouble. Supposing a lion were running after you, wouldn't you run up a tree ? wouldn't you be glad of a ' refuge ' from it ? I am going to think how we shall find a safe place when any dreadful things come after us. We will turn to Isaiah xxxii. 2, we'll read it together : ' And a man (observe that word) shall be as a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest '. Which is the worst — ' wind ' or ' tempest ' ? ' Tempest ' is the worst. Then He 'shall be as a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest ' — cover you all over ; the worse it is, the more He will cover you over. ' As rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.' I will tell you about a poor blind girl, of whom I have been reading in that very interesting book called The Denied Sense, by Dr. Bull ; and Dr. Bull has often been to our children's service. This blind girl learned to read the Bible from embossed letters — i.e. raised letters — she learned to read very nicely with her fingers. But it pleased God to paralyse her — she lost all feeling with her fingers. Oh, she was very unhappy when this happened ! and as she thought she could no more read her Bible, she wondered what she should do. But as she took her Bible to say ' Farewell ' to it, she kissed it, and in doing so, she found her lips would do to read it by, as they were not jjaralysed ; and so she learnt to read her Bible with her lips, through kissing it, and all the rest of her life she continued to read it with her lips. So God gave her a ' refuge '. Whatever trouble you have, take ray advice — go and tell Jesus, go to His bosom and whisper it to Him. Remember it through life. Sometimes you are away from your friends — no one to feel with you, no one to tell your secrets to — go and tell Jesus. You remember the disciples did this. It is said, ' They went and told Jesus everything ' when any ti'ouble happened to them. Now I want to mention another thing from which we want a ' refuge,' as well as trouble. I am going to mention four things. What shall we have next? Temptation. We are all tempted. Turn to 1 Corin- thians X. 13, ' There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man ; but God is faithful who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it ' — i.e. ' a place of refuge '. You will always find when tempted to do anything wrong, if you run to God, God will either take away the temptation, or give you more strength and grace to overcome it. I don't know which He will do, but I know which is best — not for Him to take away the temptation, but to give grace to bear it. But He will always do one or the other. I should like to tell you of a Norwegian boy of thirteen years of age. His parents were gone away to America. One day he was going through the 359 Ver. 26. PROVERBS XIV., XV Ver. 18. fields to drive some cows home, it being part of his duty ; and in doing so he had to cross a river, as he came near which, he met some idle boys who said to him, ' We want you to go and steal some apples in that orchard for us '. He replied, ' I will not do so for anybody '. They said, ' We'll make you '. Again he said, 'I won't do it'. They said, 'If you won't we'll duck you in the river'. 'I will not steal,' he replied. Then these cruel boys — cowardly fellows — took hold of this one boy to drag him down to the river, and notwithstanding all his cries to spare him, they put him into the river and ducked him. And when they had kept on doing this for some time, they said to him, ' Will you do so now ? ' ' No ! ' he said. 'Then we'll conquer you ' ; and they ducked him in the water again and again. And <.'very time he came up they said, ' Will you steal the apples now ? ' and he said repeatedly, ' No ! ' And at last they drowned him ! They did not intend to do it, but they did it. And that boy died a martyr, because he would not do what he knew to be wrong. That is the way God delivered him out of temptation. Again, we need a ' place of refuge ' when we have done anything wicked, and feel very uncomfortable, and have a troubled conscience. I think we all know what that is. When we have done something to grieve God we feel unhappy about it ; and what are we to do ? Fly to the wounds of Jesus ! There is no other place to go to. Whenever you feel getting naughty, go at once to Him. Now there is one more thing — death. We must all die. It is a happy thing for a Christian to die. It is the happiest thing that ever happened to such a one to die, because there is ' a refuge '. There will be the wounds of Jesus, and the bosom of Jesus, both for us when we die. I heard of a person dying who thus spoke : ' I am too sick to live, and I am too wicked to die '. Sad words 1 I hope you and I shall not say so when we are on our death-beds. Now I will read to you the other side — what a little dying child wrote, I believe, on her death-bed : — Put your arm arouud me, mother, Draw your chair lieside my bed ; Let me lean upon your bosom. This poor, weary, aching head. Once I thought I could not leave you, Once I was afraid to die ; Now I feel 'tis Jesus calls me — To His mansion in the sky ! Why should you be grieving, mother, That your child is goinj? home, To that land, where sin and sorrow, Pain and weakness, no more come ? She had her ' refuge '. Now, just before I fini.sh, I will tell you about a little boy who had his ' refuge ' too. "The story is called, ' Willie's To-morrow '. It was in a very miserably poor room, and it was night. In the grate these was a poor little fire — not little bright flames, but blue flames — almost going out, and one poor rushlight candle upon the table. In this wretched room, far on in the night, a mother was at her hard work, to be ready to take home the next morning, to get some money to buy bread ; and near this wretched fire was a poor little boy — ' Willie ' — on his dying bed. Tliis poor boy lifted up his little pale face, looking so old, though he was young (poverty made him so) and said, ' I am very hungry, mother ! ' His mother said to him, 'To-morrow, dear Willie, we'll have some bread '. Little Willie said, ' To-morrow ! To- moiTow ! Didn't I pray to God this morning, " Give me, this day, my daily bread ? " Has God forgotten me ? Why to-morrow ? Didn't He say, this day ? and I said, "Give me, this day, my daily bread ".' Then little Willie lay very still a little while. Eleven o'clock was striking, and little Willie looked up and said, ' Is it to-morrow ? ' His mother could not speak, but took little Willie in her arms to soothe him. She had no bread to give. Little Willie soon became very much worse, and his thoughts wandered ; he thought of all kinds of strange things, but every now and then he said, ' To-morrow ! to-morrow ! ' Presently he was silent ; and his mother saw a smile on his lips, eis if he was recognising or seeing some- body he knew ; this she afterwards called ' the bright spirit ' in his eyes. She knew that he was dying. He just said to her, ' To-morrow ! to-morrow, mother ! ' and he died. Just then the cathedral clock struck twelve ; the mother counted it. God had given him that day his ' daily bread '. Oh what bread ! what a feast ! He was gone before to-ynorrow, where ' they hunger no more, neither thirst any more'. He had found his ' place of refuge '. ' The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms '. Look ! ' the eternal God is thy refuge,' and underneath are the wings to bear thee over every trouble here, and waft thee, like little Willie, into the bliss of heaven. ' The eternal God is thy refuge ; and underneath are the everlasting arms.' — James Vaughan. GOOD AND BAD TEMPER Proverbs xv. i8. I. The Effects of Good and Bad Temper upon Ourselves. — 1. The ill-tempered man is not comfortable. An angry man can never feel comfortable. Anger in our hearts or minds is like a storm at sea. That storm, while it lasts, disturbs everything. It interferes with everybody's comfort ; the passengers are sea-sick, the crew are anxious and over-worked, the officers are restless and worried, everything on board is topsy- turvy, and the word comfort is almost a mockery. So it is always and everywhere with the irritable and ill-tempered person. 2. The ill-tempered person is not safe. Old Thomas Adams, the Puritan, compared him to a ' ship sent Ver. 18. PROVERBS XV Ver. 18. into the sea which hath the devil for its pilot '. A more pitiable object than a man exposing and ulti- mately destroying himself by yielding the sceptre of self-government to a thing he despises, even God cannot see ! Some time ago in India two little children were asleep in a bungalow when a tiger came out of a jungle for something to eat. He scented the children and entered into the bungalow. But the first thing the tiger saw was a looking-glass, and in the looking-glass another tiger, as he thought. In two seconds he went for his supposed rival with all his might. He injured himself so much with broken glass while attacking his reflection that he .soon died ot his wounds. 3. The ill-tempered person is not wise. This is almost a truism, but it is still nece-sary both to state and to prove it. A man is never at his best when he is in a temper. Whatever the cause he advocates, if he loses his temper while advocating it, it is almost sure to suffer. A shai-p-witted boy at Levden, who used to attend the disputations held at the Academy, was asked if he understood Latin ' Not much,' he replied, ' but I know who is wrong in the argument.' 'How?' ' By seeing who is angry first.' If you are identified with a cause upon the clear and able advocacy of which a great deal depends, be sure never to entrust it to an angry man, for as certain as he takes it he'll lose it, either by too freely abusing the plaintiff's attorney or by making a mean ex- hibition of himself otherwise. As Professor Drum- mond well puts it in that choice book published after his death : ' A quick temper really incapacitates for sound judgment. Decisions are struck out at white heat without time to collect grounds or hear explan- ations,' and thus persons who in calm moments and when under complete self-control are regarded as wise, able, and powerful, become mere forcible feebles, laughing-stocks, and even ciphers through allowing their tempers to get the upper hand of them. Let us remember that we have been created in the image of God, that the Divine likeness we bear is a sacred trust connnittcd to our chai-ge, and that every time we allow it to be debased and degraded by the folly of ill-temper we insult Him in the most flagrant way it is in our power to do. ' The greatest reflection on Almighty power,' said one daring sceptic, ' is a fool.' If there is anything in that, what must be the terrible responsibility of the person who volun- tarily becomes a fool through ill-temper. May God spare us fi'om havina: to personally solve the problem. 4. Ill-temper incapacitates a person for discharg- ing his duty. This is very easily demonstrated, as only half the man is available when he is a slave of temper. Naturalists tell us that when the lion is irritated he flogs his sides with his tail and shakes his mane. If, therefore, a traveller finds himself unexpectedly in the presence of a lion he may know the animal's intentions and take precautions accord- ingly. The lion thus, by the manifestations of his anger, depi'ives himself of a good opportunity of stealing a march upon his enemy. He loses ground and gives you vantage by the exhibition of his temper. Thus, anger manages everything badly. It always incapacitates those who indulge in it to discharge their duties efficiently, and reduces even the most resourceful to absolute impotence. If. The Effect of Good and Bad Temper upon Others. — As Dr. Horton says, 'An angry man or woman spreads a pervading sense of irritation in the house or in the workshop, and all the other occupants of the place are as if they dwelt in a country subject to earthquakes. Life to them is divided between anxiety to avoid the explosion and a painful effort to repair its devastation.' However peaceful and happy a home may be, if a person with an ungovern- able temper becomes an inmate of it, its peace is over, its sense of rest is gone, its music is thoroughly destroyed, and life, even with the resources provided by wealth and fortune, becomes a weary burden. What a number of homes there are in our country to-day thus struck and blasted by the lightnings of angry passions. Think of the sufferings endured by those who are condemned to spend their whole lives in such homes. Think of the innocent little children who are the helpless and constant victims of these degrading and disgusting exhibitions of humanity at its worst. III. IIl=Temper in its Effects upon Morality and Religion. — Take it all in all, it is one of the biggest enemies they have. One great author has even gone so far as to say that ' no form of vice, not worldliness, not greed of gold, not drunkenness itself, does more to unchristianise society than evil temper '. It is very strong language, but not one whit too strong, when all is considered. Now we can easily imagine some one asking : ' Are we, then, who aieiChiistiaus, never to show indignation ? Are we never to resist when we are trampled upon ? Are we always to sub- mit and say "Thank you" when an unscrupulous person desires to put his foot upon our neck ? ' Nothing of the kind. Turning the other cheek to the fist of the aggressor does not mean that you are to turn the one .struck first to him the second time. Before you make up your mind to disagree with such a doctrine, think of the Christ's indignation in the face of wrong. Can you heai- the rmg of scorn in His voice when He called the Pharisees whited sepulchres ? Can you see the curl on His lip when He denounced His deceitful countrymen as a genera- tion of vipers ? Yea, can you see the flame on His cheek when he whips the howling mob of thieves and desecrators out of His Father's house ? No, my brethren, neither by word nor by example does Christianity say that you must not wax indignant in the face of wrong. Not only so, but you are a coward in the estimation of Christ if you remain silent and inactive when shams are flourishing and wrongs are growing apace. But indignation is not ill-tempei\ To be indignant in the face of sin is a duty. To denounce in the strongest language the hypocrises, and the sham^, and the meannesses of life, is a call from God whicii 361 Ver. 32. PROVERBS XVI Ver. 32. no Christian can neglect. You must not, therefore, confuse ill-temper and its ill-bred crew of associates with this element They have nothing in common. One is a child of light ; the other is a child of dark- ness.— H. Elwyn Thomas, Pulpit Talks to Young People, p. 27. SELF-VICTORY ' He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty ; and he that nileth his spirit than he that taketh a city.' — Proverbs XVI. 32. I AM only going to preach about the last half of this verse. Now I want to talk to you about conquering ourselves. In one word, we will call it ' Self- Victory,' and all the sermon will be about Self- Victory, i.e. conquering youreelf Do not people often say to us, ' conquer yourself ' ? I am not sure that that is quite right Can anybody conquer himself? I do not think he can. God can conquer him ! but if anybody sets down to say, ' I will conquer myself,' I do not think that person can do it Therefore, speaking quite truly, quite strictly, it is not right to say, ' Conquer yourself '. There is a very important verse about that (1 Cor. XV. 10), where St. Paul says, ' Not I, but the grace of God which was with me '. Look also at Revelation XII. 11. Do you know, heaven is full of conqueiors ? Everybody in heaven is a conqueror. Now this verse tells us how they conquered. 'They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb ' — by Christ. Therefore nobody can conquer himself excepting by Christ Let us read the text again : ' He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty ; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city '. ' Better ' — what does ' better ' mean ? I think it means three things. ' Better.' Why is a person who conquers himself better than a great general who takes a city ? For three reasons. I will say a little about them. First, he is a greater hero ; he does a more difficult thing — a nobler deed. Perhaps somebody in this church says, ' I do not think so'. You have never tried then ; because if you ever have tried to conquer yourself in anything, you will find how difficult it is. I have known some children try very hard indeed not to bite their nails — not to suck their thumbs — not to stand in a particular way — not to pout their lips. It is difficult to conquer yourself I feel for you. I know it is very difficult to conquer yourself ; and if anybody treats it as an easy thing I say they know nothing about it Shall I toll you why it is so difficult ? Because God meant it to be difficult Now I must ask you to think with me about something. When Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit they were friends with the devil. But God said, in great mercy, ' You shall not always be friends I will put enmity between you.' And when boys or girls begin to try to con- quer themselves, they find the ' enmity ' ; they find what a hard thing it is to fight against their sins. I am so glad when anybody begins to find it difficult to be good, because I know then God has begun to put the ' enmity '. God is keeping His promise, and has begun a good work in that boy's or girl's heart Before they felt any difficulty they were friends with the devil. And the reason why it is so difficult to conquer any bad habit is because thei'e are all sorts of powei-s fighting with that fault against you. The devil is there, the powers of darkness are there, so that you are not only fighting against your wicked heart, but against all sorts of wicked powers. Oh, it is so diffi- cult! You would think it a difficult thing if a soldier had to charge up a hill guarded by the enemy, if he was the fii-st person to scale the wails of a fortress, these would be brave things to do. To lead a forlorn hope is a great thing, to stand by a breach is a great thing, to plant the Queen's flag on the top of the enemy's fortress is a brave thing ; but all these are as nothing compared to a man conquering his pride, his indulgences, his lying — anything that is wrong. I should like to tell you of a very brave man, one of the bravest men I ever heard of I never read of it till the other day, but you may, perhaps, have heard it before. I must shorten the story, for it is a very long one. It was in the month of November that a Russian nobleman was returning from a tour in Enrope, ac- companied by his baroness and their little daughter, Eleanora ; their servant was sitting on the low dicky. They drove up to an inn for change of horses ; the landlord begged them not to proceed, as it was getting dark ; much snow had fallen, and the wolves were very hungry. The baron said he was not afraid, and he must go on. He ordered refreshment, they par- took of mulled wine, etc. He gave some to his servant, Erric. They drove on. It became exceedingly dark and cold. Poor little Eleanora began to get frightened ; her mother, a Christian, tried to comfort her, telling her ' God was eis much with them there as in their own home '. They passed a dreary moor, where the snow lay thick. Presently they came to a huge forest (there are plenty of such in Russia) ; the baroness saw Enic look at something veiy closely. At that moment they heard a long, low, melancholy howl ; and the baron said to his servant in front, ' What is that ? ' He replied, ' A pack of wolves in the distance, they are coming ! ' "The baron said, ' What must we do ? ' The servant said, ' You must do this : you must unload your pistols of bullets, and load them with swan shot, and fire at them if they come '. The baron took down his pistols from the top of his carriage, drew the charge, and loaded them with swan shot Poor little Eleanora was much frightened. ' What shall we do ? ' she exclaimed. Her mother's answer to her was, ' He that delivered David out of the paw of the lion and the bear. He can deliver us, if He choose, from these wolves '. The baron had no sooner loaded his pistols than the wolves came on their track — quite two hundred 362 Ver. 32. PROVERBS XVI Ver. 32. of them, a large pack — all running, as wolves do, with their tongues hanging out, and tails stretched quite straight, and howling fiercely. The first wolf — an old grey wolf — led the pack. He came up and seized upon one of the leaders ; as he did so, Erric fired and sent a shot through him, and killed him. Turning round to the bai'on, he said, ' Lend me a stiing '. He took the string, and tied the dead wolf to the caniage, saying, ' When they see that, the rest will think there is something wrong '. The wolves kept back afraid of the string ; but gi-adually they saw it was a trick, and got courage again, and came rushing after the carriage. 'There is only one thing to be done,' said the servant to the postilion, ' cut the traces of the off horse : let him loose.' He cut the traces, and the horse galloped into the wood, and all the wolves after him in a minute : there remained not one near the carriage. The baroness thought they were safe. The poor horse presently gave a horrible cry — the most horrible cry in nature, when he does scream, is the cry of a dying horse. The postilion galloped on with the horses remaining, as fast as he could ; but the snow was deep, and they could not make much way. Presently the wolves, having eaten the dead horse, came again furiously after them. ' There is yet one thing to be done,' said Erric, 'give them the other leader.' It was done, the wolves galloping after this as after the other. They were now within two miles of the town to which they were going; the lights of the town were in view, but the snow was deep, and they could not make much way. The wolves were again close upon them ; Erric turned round to his master, and said, ' I have served you and my lady faithfully, I trust, for twenty yeai-s ; but I have never done you the service I am now about to perform. Take caie of my wife and child ; I am going to jump oft", and keep the wolves at bay with my pistols, as long as I can ; and when they overcome, they will devour me, but you will have time to get into the town ! ' The baron said, ' No, Erric, such a thing must not be '. The man was determined. ' Fire your pistols both at once,' said he ; ' while I get down — fire ! ' The baron fired — Erric jumped off! They drove on as fast as they could. They heard a shot — then they heard another shot — and another, a third — and all was silent ! They reached the inn j ust as the wolves were com- ing on them again ; but the light blazing at the bar frightened the wolves back. The baron, baroness, and Eleanora were safe. The bai'on and servants went out to search for En-ic, but not an atom of him could be found — only his pistols. They supposed, in firing the last shot, the wolves seized on him and devoured him. They raised a monument on the spot, and this was written on it — ' Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends '. There was courage ! There was an act of self-devo- tion ! There was a noble deed ! Now I must go on to the next thing. It is not only a braver but a happier thing to conquer one's self than to ' take a city '. I wonder whether you have ever felt the happiness. Do you know what a very happy thing it is to conquer some naughty thing in your heart ? for, if you do not, I do not hesitate to say, whatever happiness you have enjoyed in life, you do not know what real happiness is. There is happiness in one's conscience, if one succeeds in conquering something that is naughty ; and there is no happiness like it in the world. If you take cities it will not make you happy. When a man took nearly all the cities in the world (Alexander the Great), he sat down crying, because he could not find more worlds to take. But if you try to do good, and gradually conquer your own be- setting sin, you will feel within such a peace as no words can describe ! There was a little girl whose name was Betty ; her grandmother told her ' those that tried to be good were always on the sunny side of everything '. One day poor little Betty had a bad toothache. She said, ' Grandmother ! you said there was a sunny side to everything— I do not think there is a sunny side to this '. Her grandmother said, ' I know it is very bad ; but if you never had a bad tooth that gave you pain, you would not know what a pleasant thing it is to have one that does not pain you. Besides, you would not be able to feel for other people. And if you bear it patiently, the pain will not be so great' Betty confessed that it had 'a sunny side,' for she felt happiness in conquering herself, and bearing it patiently. Betty, some time afterwards, found her grand- mother had lost her spectacles. ' Is there a sunny side to that ? ' she asked. ' Oh yes, there is ; I will tell you what it is. The sunny side is I have a little girl, and she has a pair of black eyes, and will bring them to me. That is the sunny side.' There is always something happy in everything ; and you will find it far happier to conquer yourself than if you were a king and conquered the world. Now, there is another thing — it is not only braver and happier, but something better still — it pleases God. That must be best. I hope you will always tiiink, whenever you want to know which is the best of all things, to ask yourself, ' Which will please God most ? ' Now the reason why it pleases God so much for you to conquer your sins, is because you will be growing like Jesus Christ. The more you conquer sin the more you will be growing like Christ. When God sees anybody like Christ He is pleased. We have all done that which is worth living for if we please God. The great end of life is to please God. So there are three things why it is ' better ' to i-ule your own spirit than to take a city. Because it is more difficult, braver ; because it leaves a happier feeling behind ; and because it pleases God. I wonder whether there is anybody in this church who is passionate. Do you think there is ? Any- body who has a bad temper, who gets cross at times ? To you, then, I want to speak. I know it is very difficult. I can quite feel for you. I know what it 363 Ver. 10. PROVERBS XVIII Ver. 10. is. All of us, grown-up people, know what it is. We have all great struggles. Do not think it is only you. We have all some sin that is a plague to us. I can feel for you from my heart. I know it is a great work. I will tell you, you viay succeed. It is very diffi- cult. Peter the Great found it very difficult. He made a law that ' if anybody ever struck his sei-vant, he should be treated as if he were a madman '. Not long after making this law Peter was walking in his garden, and his gardener did or said something that offended Peter, and he struck his gardener a hard blow. He exclaimed, ' I can conquer cities, but I cannot conquer myself. Is there an account of anybody in the Bible very proud, but who became humble ? I will tell you of one who conquered himself very quickly. Naaman. He would not wash in Jordan to be cured. ' Why does not the prophet do some gi-eat thing ? Why does he not treat me with distinction ? and not send me to wash in that filthy Jordan, which is not half so good as our own rivers ? I, forsooth ! a great captain like me, to bathe there.' But when his servant spoke to him so wisely, the great captain took his servant's rebuke, as he ought to do ; for it was true what the servant said. So he conquered his pride. I'erhaps there are some who are selfish, always greedy, trying to get the best for themselves, taking the nicest things, taking the best place in the room, wanting to be always first. Oh ! how unlike are such to Christ ! A dreadful sin is selfishness ! Is there anybody in the Bible who was selfish and cured it ? I think Jacob did. When he was young he was selfish, for when Esau came in hungry, he sold him a cup of broth for his birthright. And then how selfish in Jacob to try and deceive his old father, and get the blessing. It was dreadfully selfish, and God sent him for twenty-one years to be a servant to conquer himself, and when he came back he acted generously to his brother, he humbled himself to him ; he had learned enough by selfishness. How- ever selfish you may be, you may conquer yourself of that dreadful sin. Two pieces of advice I will give you. Offer up a little prayer in your heart when you feel your sin rising up, ' Lord, help me '. ' Give me grace to conquer it.' Secondly, make a great effort, nothing is done without effort — James Vaughan. CASTLE SURE ' The name of the Lord is a strong tower : the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.' — Proverbs xviii. io. Probably you have not travelled very far. You have never been up the Rhine, or niamed among the High- lands of Bavaria, or wandered amongst the mountains of Palestine, which are all foreign parts very far abroad — and so are the Scotch Highlands, though they are foreign parts not quite so far abroad. But you have seen pictures of most of these places. and there has been always one thing standing high in every picture — it has been a castle or tower perched like an eagle's nest on the top of some lofty crag, and commanding a view of all the country underneath. And this is why they built these towers so high up : that they might be able to see far, and know what was coming, and so prepare to receive a friend or resist an enemy. These towers were very safe places. As you came near to one of them you would find that, just where the crag began to get steep and very difficult to climb, there was a narrow passage that went winding round and round, and up and up, and only one or two people could go abreast. That was made narrow on purpose,for if an enemy was coming up that steep way it was very easy to roll rocks down upon him, or shoot at him from the windows of the tower, and so nobody could get up unless those inside the castle were willing; and on the very top there was a great gate with bars of iron and sharp spikes, and when that gate was closed it was useless to try to get in^the people inside were quite safe from any harm that could come to them from people outside. And again and again people had to make use of the strong tower in that way ; for when the enemy came into the land to slay the people, or when rob- bers came there to steal the cattle, the people drove their flocks up behind the tower, and went into the tower themselves with all their valuables, and then they were safe while the soldiers marched out and fought the enemy or drove off the robbere. When- ever there was trouble honest people ran into the strong tower and were safe. And that was why good people came to speak about God's name as a strong tower. Whenever trouble came on them, and they were at their wits' end and did not know what to do, then one good man would say to another, ' Ah, well I the name of the Lord is a strong tower, and the righteous runneth into it, and is safe '. Then the troubled one would look more hopeful, and a brighter light would come into his eye, and he would lift his head a little higher and say, ' That's true ; I will put my trust in the Lord ; no one was ever harmed yet who did that I And this is what you and I have to learn to do — to make the name of the Lord our strong tower. But how can a name ever become a strong tower? Oh ! easy enough, easy enough ! You barken and learn. There is a country far away called Bolivia. It is very hot there, and being so hot, the people from time to time catch fevere which they call insuiTections ; and when these fevers are on them they grow very ex- cited, and fight with one another, for the only way to cool these fevers is by letting out blood ! Well, some years ago, when they had these fevers very badlv in- deed, they seized an English captain, and without trying him at all to find out whether he was a right- eous man or a wicked one, they dragged him into the market-place, and bandaged his eyes, and were yetting ready to shoot him. But the captain had had time to send a friend off to tell the Entrlish Consul — he is 364. Ver. 10. PROVERBS XVIIl Ver. 21. the man who stands for the Queen in foreign parts^ and the Consul mounted his horse and rode away Hke an ano-rv gust of wind to the market-place ; and when he got there the men had their rifles up ready to shoot the poor captain, but they never got shootmg. No ! lor the Consul rode between them and the prisoner, and cried out, ' In the Queen's name ! ' Then they did not dare to shoot, for if they had harmed the captain when he had put his trust in our Queen's name, the Queen would have sent soldiers and sailors out there, and most likely those who shot the captain would have been shot themselves. And so he was saved, and was afterwards found to have been innocent of what they had blamed him for, and came back to this country again a free man — for the name of the Queen had been as a strong tower into which he had run and found safety. Now it is the same with the name of God. It means God's power, and His faithfulness, and His love — everything by which God can protect and take care of those that put their trust in Him. When the Consul spoke of the Queen's name he meant the Queen's power ; her name was short for her armies and lier navies, and their strength is very great; and the name of the Lord means the Lord's power, and that is greater still. No one was ever put to shame who trusted in the name of the Lord. Now, do you think of this when you are tempted. Think of God and the temptation will break up and vanish away, you cannot tell how, like clouds scat- tered in the wind, and not till they are gone will you find how the Lord has been your Protectoi-. And think of it when you have got something to do that is right, but is hard to be done. Abraham did that once. God wanted to try him, to see if he really would do what He commanded him or not, so He told him to sacrifice his one son Abraham felt that a hard commandment, but he put his trust in the name of the Lord. And he found the Lord to be good — as every- body finds Him to be when he trusts Him — for just when he was about to slay his son, the Lord stopped him, and gave him a ram to sacrifice instead. Do you remember the name Abraham gave to God then ? It was Jehovah-Jireh, which means, ' The Lord will provide '. And that is the name you must trust to when you are at the right thing, and find it hard to do. Trust in the Lord, take shelter in His name — the faithful, the loving, the fatherly God ; and when things seem at their worst you will find they are at their best, for God will open a way of escape for you right through the rock, and He will make a path for you right through the river, and He will turn stones into bread and enemies into friends, for He has promised He will provide. So trust Him, trust Him always ; keep always in the shelter of His name, as people take shelter in a strong tower, and you will find that the peace of God that passeth all understanding will keep your heart and mind as a gan-ison keeps safe all who are in it. — J. Reid Howatf, The Children's Angel, p. 142. THE TONGUE ' Death and life are in the power of the tongue.'— Proverb3 XVIII. 21. I. The Tongue is like a Steed (James iii. 3). — You have seen a man sitting on the back of a fiery horse. It had a bit in its mouth and a bridle on its neck ; and he had to hold it fast and sit upright, bringing all his strength to bear on it, and pressing its sides with his knees. If he had let it go for a moment, it would have dashed away, and perhaps killed both its rider and itself Now the tongue is like that steed. And, you know, young horses are generally worst to manage; and so are young tongues. Let me tell you when the tongue is like a steed. 1. Wlien it speaks too much. — I dare say some of you speak too much. You let your tongue go on chattering sometimes when it should be silent. You must take special care of this when you are in the company of people older than yourselves. It is very unseemly to talk too much then. I remember hear- ing a man tell that, when he was about the size of some of vou older boys, he had a very dear friend who was twice as old as himself The younger used to teach the elder Latin and Greek, and was repaiil by being told his faults. And very good pay that was. One day his friend told him that it was one of his faults that he talked too much. It was a very hard lesson — far harder than the Greek verbs he was teaching his reprover. But he never forgot it, and said that, looking back, he counted that among the five or six best turns ever done him in his liietime. Now, some of you may just need the same lesson. It is well to learn it when young. Do you know what you will be called if you grow up without learning it ? You will be called a bore. That is what a man who speaks too much, and does not allow others to have their fair share of convereation, is called by his friends. Very few people are able to talk a great deal and at the same time talk well. So it is better to talk a little well, than a great deal badly. Speech is silvern, silence is golden ; speech is human, silence is divine. 2. When it is boasting. — Try not to talk much about yourselves. It is time to pull the horse up whenever this begins. It is very hard for some people not to speak about themselves. And if you feel the tendency to do it, you have a horse that requires the bridle. ' Let another praise thee, and not thou thy- self.' There are some who have a clever way of boasting ; they make other people speak their praises by throwing out suggestions in cei-tain directions. This is called ' fishing for compliments '. But it is always found out ; and it is a very mean thing, whether it is found out or not. 3. When it is angry. — It is a good rule never to speak when you are angry. It would be almost better to bite your tongue off than to speak then. But it is hard work to be silent. Anger always wants to speak. Some people have very quick tempers ; they are easily betrayed into anger. It is a great misfortune for them. They are very sorry for it 365 V'er. 21. PROVERBS XVIII Ver. 21. afterwards, and resolve not to do it again. But such persons should make another resolution — never to speak one word while the fit of temper lasts. For it is quite impossible to speak then without doing harm. You may do as much evil in two minutes as you will do good in two years. It is all sin, every word that comes out then. Keep the steed tight when you are angry. II. The Tongue Is like a Sword (Ps. lvii. 4). — It is not very long ago .since in this country every gentleman wore a sword. The counti'y was then so disturbed, and life so precarious, that it was necessary to do so. If a man was suddenly attacked by a person who desired to rob or murder him, he instantly whipped out his sword from the scabbard, and smote his assailant But it was a most dangerous custom ; for many a time, when men were heated with debate or with wine, their hands grasped, by a sort of instinct, the sword's hilt, and blades gleamed and blood flowed without any just cause. It is far better that this old custom has gone out. But some people still carry about a sword — not by their side but in their mouth. The sword-tongue is the sarcastic tongue. This is sometimes a very useful weapon, if it is used in self-defence, and for striking the right objects. If you are rudely and unjustly assailed by another's tongue, it is a very good thing, sometimes, to be able to silence him by a witty re- mark. Or if you see a boy ill-using one who is younger and weaker than himself, you may turn attention away from his victim, and fix it on himself, by a sarcastic word. If you hear a boy speaking wickedly and profanely, it is a very good thing to make a laughing-stock of him by some ludicrous sug- gestion. But, like the old sword, it is a dangerous weapon. He that has a bitter, jeering tongue will make many enemies ; and he that jokes against other people would require to be very free from animosity. There are two cases at least in which this sword should never be drawn : — 1. Against the weak and helpless. — It is just against such that it is easiest to say funny and sar- castic things. But it is very mean. Do you know what a man or a boy is called who does so ? He is called a bully. It is a very bad name. Yes, but it is a very bad thing, and deserves a bad name. I would have you to be generous always to the we-ik. If you know anyone with a deformity in his person or a defect in his speech, or who is extremely poor, be very kind and gentle to him. If you are tempted to make a cutting remark, close your lips. If a crowd of children is swarming round the poor victim, do something to divert them away. Ah ! you do not know how deep the sword cuts, and what exquisite pain even a touch on the sore place produces. 2. Against sacred things and holy persons. — It is very easy and very common to make a mock of holy things and persons. It would be better for a man to have his tongue wrenched out than to do that. For instance, many children would make a moL-k of a child who prayed or became religious. Take care ! your sword may cut the bands that are binding a soul to God. I..et me mention one other thing here — making jokes out of the Bible. This is often very amusing, and it is difficult to resist the temptation. But it should be resisted. Do not desecrate that holy Book by putting it to such a use. III. The Tongue is like a Serpent (Ps. cxl. 3).— I do not know which animal you dislike most; but I think I dislike the serpent most. And I will tell you why. It is such a sneak. If a man is attacked by a bear or a lion, he has at least a chance. He can strike, or shoot, or at least ran away, and perhaps escape. But the serpent sneaks up through the grass, or rushes unseen and gives its blow in the dark, and then glides off again. Now, the tongue is like the serpent — 1. When it slanders. — You know what slander is. It is speaking evil of a person behind his back. The boy who does that is a sneak. It is a mean thing. And it is not much better to repeat slander when you hear it, even if you have not originated it. Many people delight both to hear and to tell bad things about others. But a truly generous mind will not repeat even a true story against another without some good cause. If you delight in hearing evil of others, this is just as bad as speaking it. I have read of a noble knight, ' who spake no slander, — no, nor listened to it ' ; and I think we should all try to be like him. Tliree-fourths of the evil reports about people are untiue ; and this should keep us from either listening to them or repeating them. 2. When it flatters. — This is also poison. Flattery is sweet poison, and slander is bitter poison ; but both come from the serpent. Many think it a very clever thing to be able to flatter adroitly, and then turn round and laugh at the fool who has believed their sugared lies. Yes, the flattering tongue and the slan- dering tongue are often the same. It is the tongue that flatters you to your face with honeyed falsehoods that, behind your back, will assail you with words steeped in gall. ' God will cut off" all flattering lips.' IV. The Tongue is like Fire (James iil 6). — You have heaj-d of Greek fira It used to be employed in war before gunpowder was invented. It was scattered about by instruments not unlike cannons. Whatever it touched it set on fire ; and it is said to have burned even under water. Sometimes it set whole towns on fire ; for, you know, even a spark can kindle a forest Now, the tongue is like fire when it speaks profane or foul words in the hearing of others ! because those who hear them speak them again, and so the evil spreads and spreads. Many people throughout the country are getting alarmed just now at the terrible prevalence of this sin. I am very son-y to think that it is impossible for you to go through the streets with- out hearing such language. But remember it is fire. Keep it far from you. And if ever you are tempted to use such words, remember you are kindling fii-e which may consume souls. I think if profane swearers reflected on this, they would cease from their sin. I 366 Ver. 24. PROVERBS XVIII., XXIII Ver. 23, often wonder when I hear respectable-looking men swearing even in the public streets, though there are children around to hear — ay, and to learn. It would be better for a man to have a millstone tied round about his neck, and to be cast into the sea, than to teach little ones to blaspheme. I would have you mark the boys and men who indulge in this sin, and set them down as those you will avoid. And I wish every one of you would do more — resolve not only to avoid all such language yourselves, but to put it down wherever you meet it. It would not be difficult, for the swearer is a coward ; he quails when a brave man challenges him. — James Stalker, The New Song, p. 2-1. MY FRIEND Proverbs xviii. 24. Feels for me, Redeems me, Intercedes for me, Enlightens me. Never leaves me, Died for me. — C. Edwards, Tin Tacks for Tiny Folks, p. 117. BUYING THE TRUTH ' Buy the truth, and sell it not' — Proverbs xxiii. 23. The first question that comes into one's mind when one reads this verse, is that very question which Pilate asked, but of which he never waited to hear the answer, ' What is truth ? ' But our Lord gives you the answer Himself : ' I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life '. I. Our Lord Jesus Christ is Himself the Truth : and Solomon tells us here that we are to buy Him. How can that be ? We know that in many places we are told how He gives Himself to us : how He gave Himself on the cross, to be the payment for our sins : how He gives Himself on the altar, to be the food that keeps our souls alive, just as the meat that we eat keeps our bodies alive. It is very true. He does give Himself to us, and yet we are to buy Him. It is just what is written in Isaiah: 'Yea, come ; buy wine and milk without money and with- out price '. And it means this : that, though He does thus give us Himself, yet it is not without our doing what we can on our parts, without our obeying what He commands us. When we talk about buying and selling, we mean that what we give is worth what we receive. But what have we, or can we have, that is worth the truth here — that is worth, if I may say so, God Himself? When we speak about buying the Truth, we mean that we must give something for it : and the question is, ' What is that some- thing ? ' You know the parable of the merchantman seeking goodly pearls. And when he had found one pearl of great jjrice, he gave what for it ? He went and sold all that he had, and bought that pearl. So now here is the plain truth. If the Holy Ghost had not said it, I should not venture to say so my- self But He has ; and therefore I may say it too, what you want is — it is the only thing worth wanting in this world, it is the only thing worth trying for, that our Lord Jesus Christ should belong to you, should belong to you as something that is your own. Only it must be on one condition. You must give Him all you have. Now the utmost we can give to anyone is ourselves, that is, all the power of our souls and of our bodies : not sometimes only ; not for some hours in the day only ; but always — wherever you are, and whatever you are doing. This is the price you have to pay for that pearl. And see how much it costs. When you are doing your lessons, it means that you should work as diligently as you can for His sake ; when you are at play you should be as kind as you can to your playfellows for His sake also. It means that the first thing in the morning you should try to remember you are little Cbristians, having your Lord and God, Himself once a baby, to please : having a dear angel to help you to please Him ; having the devil to fight against, who is your enemy as well as His. It means that when you lie down at night, you should be afraid to go to sleep, if you know that you have one sin in your mind that you have not been sorry for ; much more if there is one sin that you mean to be guilty of, if ever you should have the opportunity. It means that, whether you eat or drink, you should do it, as St. Paul .says, to the glory of God : that then you should remember who has taken you, like poor little lambs, out of a great wide, wild waste common, and put you in here into a fold, where you are safe from so much danger and sin. It means that when you dress and undress, you should remember that as you then put off and put on your clothes, so some day you will have to put off this body that you now have, and that it depends on how you have been living here, whether you put it on again, far more glorious and beautiful than ever it was ; or whether you wake up at the j udgment-day to that which Daniel calls shame and everlasting contempt ; to that which our Lord speaks of as the resurrection of damnation. It is no ea.sy thing to anyone to buy the Truth. But then, remember, that the easier God's goodness has made it to you, the more He will expect from you. II. Well, but this is only half the text. ' Buy the truth, and sell it not.' What does that mean, selling the truth ? It means giving up that which we know to be right for some pleasure or advantage in this world. It was because they would not sell the Truth that the martyrs of whom you have heard so much laid down their lives. They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the swoi'd ; they wandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins ; being destitute, afflicted, tormented ; of whom the world was not worthy. Now it is not likely that any of you will ever be tempted thus to sell the Truth. But I will tell you a story that I heard the other day when I was away from you. I was being shown over a very large school ; and among 367 Ver. 23. PROVERBS XXIII Ver. 26. other places I was being taken to see was the great bedroom — dormitory, as they call it — where as many as eighty boys sleep, in beds side by side, like yours. Now it is the custom that before they go to bed they should all kneel down and say their prayers ; and it is a rule that there should be silence kept for a cer- tain time in order that they may. But, about twenty years ago, out of all those eighty boys not one ever said any prayers. They were ashamed to seem to have any religion, and so they used to go to bed every night as heathens might have done. But about that time there went to that school a boy, not more than eleven or twelve years old, not strong in his health, and rather backward in his learning. The first night he slept in this room he looked round to see if anyone were going to say their prayers or not ; and he found that first one and then another got into bed without any thought of them. Then it came into his head that after all he might just as well say them in bed too ; that if one prays with all one's heart it does not matter whether we kneel down or no. But then again he remembered what our Lord says, ' Whosoever therefore shall deny Me before men, him will I also deny before My Father which is in heaven '. And so, after a great struggle with him- self, he took courage and knelt down. Then there arose such a noise and outcry, such a hooting and howling, as might well have frightened a brave man, much more a poor weak boy. And so it went on night after night ; as soon as he knelt down there was the same noise, shoes and slippers, and everything that the others could lay their hands on were thrown at him ; and wherever he went he was mocked and re- viled. But by degrees, first one and then another of the better sort of boys began to think that there must be something in it ; began to take his part and defend him ; and at last began to follow his example and kneel down themselves. And so it came to pass by degrees, that the truth in this one boy overcame a whole schoolful of iniquity. He had bought the Truth at home, and he would not sell it when he came to school. He did not live very long ; and I saw his monument in the chapel of that school. But this I am very sure of, that of all things that are called glorious now, great victoi'ies, great conquests, great overcoming difficulties, this is one of the most truly glorious. And something of this kind anyone of you may have to do by and by. If you go out to service, and the first night you are in your new place find that the fellow-servant with whom you have to sleep has no thought of such a thing as prayers, I wonder if you would be ashamed of yourself kneeling down, whether you were laughed at or not ? If you should be, then I hope that God will give you grace to think of what I have said now, and to determine that you will not sell the Ti-uth, because of ridicule. Buy the Truth, and sell it not.- — Every tempta- tion is only a persuasion to sell it. The devil says. If you will give me up this or that good habit or good resolution, I will give you this or that pleasure. And you remember how St. Paul sets forth Moses, when he was come to yeai-s, choosing rather to suffer afflic- tion with the people of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin foi' a season, esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt. And I can wish nothing better for you all than that ; that you should esteem the reproach of Christ — that is, the reproaches which others cast at you for the sake of Christ — greater riches than anything which this world can offer you. Buy the Truth, and sell it not ; and then, some day, if you persevere, you will be taken to the house of Him who is the perfect Truth, and where there is nothing but truth and beauty. — J. M. Neale, Sermons for Children, p. 1. THE HEART DEMANDED ' My son, give Me thine heart.' — Proverbs xxiii. 26. I. The Reason for this demand. — When anyone makes a demand upon you for a thing, especially if it is something valuable, you very naturally ask, ' Why is this demand made ? what is the reason of it ? ' And when the Lord Jesus demands the best you have to give, you are quite entitled to ask a reason for it, and you may be sure He has a good reason to give. If I were to lay my hand upon the best thing you have, the thing which you prize most, and were to say, ' I want this,' I am almost certain you would answer me in one or other of two ways. You would either say No, or you would say Why ? And when Jesus makes His demand for the heart, that is just what many people, both old and young, say to Him. Many say No right out, and many ask the reason why — ' Why should we ? ' Now, there are three reasons that might be given for complying with Christ's demand : — 1. It is a rigid thing to give the heart to Christ ■ — it is your duty. Christ has a right to what He asks. If you have made a thing, you think you have a right to it. If you have bought a thing, you think you have a right to it. In the case of either, you say, ' It is mine by right '. If it were a bicycle, for instance, which you had contrived by your own wisdom, made with your own hands, or bought with your own money, vou might indeed give it to another, or lend it to another ; but if others took it from you, and were always using it, and you could never get the use of it, even when most you wished it or needed it, would you not have the feeling that a wrong had been done to you ? You might say, ' I have made it or bought it for myself, and yet it is all one as if I had nothing to do with it '. I dare say you have seen the picture of a sparrow in a swallow's next. I have such a picture, neatly drawn by one of our young Sabbath scholai-s. The swallow, after having spent the cold winter in a warmer country, came with other swallow-ft-iends to spend the summer in this land. It began to build its nest in the corner of a window, taking great pains with it, working lite and early to prepare a comfort- able home for its little ones, and when it was all complete, I suppose it would be glad its labour was over, and would admire its handiwork and think 368 Ver. 26. PROVERBS XXIII Ver. 20. (after its own fashion) what a comfortable house it had made ready, first for the eggs, and then for the little birds that would come out of them. But one dav when it had gone out to get some food, or to have a little pleasant exercise, darting through the air, or flying round the steeple with some of its friends, a sparrow that had been looking out for a house, saw this one, peeped in, found it all nice and cosy, and said to itself, ' Well, I need not trouble to build a nest for myself when this one is ready made, and is as snug as a nest can be ' ; so without more ado it took possession, and when the swallow came back it found its house occupied by a stranger who set it at defiance, and like a thief and a robber, stole and kept what belonged to another. Now when the swallow came back and said, ' Give me my house,' if the sparrow had asked the reason why, the answer might have been, ' Because I have a rigid to it '. You would say at once, ' Surely the swallow should get it, because it is right '. Would you not ? Or let me suppose that instead of a swallow it was yourself who had built a house, that you had papered and painted and furnished it, laying out the little garden round it, planting it with the flowers you like best, and making it, as you would say, a ' darling little house '. But when you come home one day a stranger opens the door, looks at you as if you were an intruder, asks what you want, tells you to begone, shuts the door in your face, turns the key in the lock, draws the bar and fastens the chain, as much as to sav, ' You shall never get in here ! ' What would you think? What would you say ? 'Give me my house.' Why? 'Because no one has aright to it but myself And it is just so with the Lord Jesus. He made your heart for Himself He wants it for Himself. He wants to occupy it, to make it His dwelling-place. He says, ' Behold I stand at the door and knock. Let JVie in. Give Me thine heart. ' And if you ask a reason, He might say just like yourself, 'Because I have a right to it. I made it, made it for Myself, and it is right that I should have it.' 2. It is a safe thing to give the heart to Christ — it is your interest. It is important to have our 'valuables,' as we call them, in a place of safety. Many people who live in town go to the country for the summer. You see windows covered with brown paper, and the door ' brasses ' uncleaned, and the grass growing on the street, telling that the houses are unoccupied. And what if thieves should break into the unoccupied houses ? \^'^hat of the silver- plate and other precious things which are there in winter ? They are all out of the reach of danger, in the great ' safes ' of the bank. The banker, as it were, says, ' Send them to me, and they will be safe in my keeping '. When I was in Holland lately notices were hung up in the bedrooms of the hotels, in three languages — Dutch, German, and French — saying that all ' valuables ' were to be handed over to the keeping of the owner of the hotel. He, as it were, said to each of us, ' Commit them to me, and so they will be safe '. Now, the most precious thing you have is your heart. I do not mean the heai-t which you feel beating in your breast, though that is so important that your life depends on it. I mean the heart as the seat of the affections — that which trusts and loves and desires and enjoys. The heart is, to each of us, what the mainspring is to the watch ; every- thing depends on it. If the heart is right, all is right ; if the heart is wrong, all is wrong. Hence Jesus says of it, ' Out of it are the issues of life '. What an important thing, then, a heart must be ! A party of us left the Victoria Station in London one night, a little while ago, ' booked ' our luggage for Amsterdam, and handed it over to the keeping of the railway company. We got on board the steamer at Queenborough, we sailed across the sea to Flushing, travelled to Utrecht, went aw-ay in another direction altogether and spent the day, and got into Amsterdam late at night. When we arrived our luggage was nowhere to be seen, but the station- master said, ' You may be sure it is all right, and will be at your hotel before you are up in the morn- ing '. And accordingly, early in the morning, a loud knock awoke me, I jumped up, opened the door, and there was a Dutch porter, with my portmanteau in his hand, all safe. If it had been in my own keeping no saying what might have become of it. It was in better hands, and came all right. So with your heart. ' Give it to Me,' says Jesus, ' and all the way through, and at the end, you will find it safe.' Many have tried other ways of it, but these have always turned out ill. Sometimes there was a lost heart. Sometimes there was a broken heart. The heart is safe in the keeping of Jesus, and nowhere else. 3. It is a happy thing to give the heart to Christ — it is your blessed privilege. It is strange the notion some people have about the religion of Jesus. You ask a boy or a young man if he would not like to be a Christian, and a cloud comes over his brow at once. You ask a girl if she will not give her heart to Christ, and she looks almost as if you were threatening to do her some harm. When I was walking along the street one day a nun passed by, and I heard a boy say, ' I would not like to live with these gowned people ! ' And that is just what some people think about deciding for Christ. They say it is like leaving the sunshine to go into a gloomy prison — it is like bidding farewell to all that is bright and joyous, and exchanging it for mourning — it is like giving up the liberty that is life, and becoming a slave. I say No. The Bible says No. Every one who has tried it says No. There never was a greater mistake. Those who have given their hearts to Christ are of all people the happiest. It must be so. It is a happy thing to do what is right. You cannot do what is right, however hard and trying it may be, without a feeling of gladness filling your heart. 369 24 Ver. 32. PROVERBS XXIIl Ver. 32. Conscience approves. God approves. All the right- hearted approve. And if it is right to give the heart to Christ, you cannot do so without being happy in the very act. Otherwise, it is like keeping something that belongs to another. It is a burden every time you think of it. What a relief it is to have it out of your hands. II. The Manner of the demand. — Sometimes you have demands made upon you roughly, threateningly ; and even where the thing itself is right, the manner of the demand turns your heart against it. But it is far otherwise with Jesus. He puts it so gently and kindly that you would think it could hardly fail to win. He says, ' My son '. It is just as if your father or your mother were to come to you to make some request, and putting the hand upon your shoulder were tenderly to say, ' My son — will you ? ' Who could have the heart to say No ? Thus it was that the wise king made his request long ago. Thus it is that the Heavenly King sends His message to you now. What shall your answer be ? Take my heart, it is Thine own, It shall be Thy royal throne. — J. H. Wilson, The King's Message, p. 19. THE WARNING AGAINST INTEMPERANCE ' At last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.' — Proverbs xxiii. 32. Oqr sermon to-day is about the warning again.st intemperance. This is the most dangerous of all serpents. And there are three things about the sting of this serpent which should lead us to mind the warning here given. I. In the First Place, we should Mind this Warn = ing ag^ainst the Serpent of Intemperance because its Sting is 'A Costly Sting'. — If you are bitten by some other serpent, it may give you pain for a little while, but you can soon get medicine to cure the bite, and that will be the end of it. But it is very different with this serpent of intemperance. Oh, how much the bite of this serpent costs ! One day a gentleman in London was taking his favourite walk near Regent's Park. As he went on his way he saw an old man sitting to rest under the shadow of a tree by the roadside. He knew, from his dress, that he was one of the inmates of the neighbouring almshouse. The gentleman stopped to talk with him, when the following conversation took place between them : — ' What a pity it is, my friend,' said the gentleman, ' that a man of your age should have to spend the rest of your days in the poorhouse. May I ask how old you are ? ' ' Close on to eighty years, sir.' ' What was your trade ? ' ' I was a carpenter, sir.' ' Well, that's a good trade to get a living by. Now let me ask you plainly, were you in the habit of taking intoxicating liquors ? ' ' No, sir ; that is, I only took my beer, three times a day, as the rest of the men did. But I never was a drunkard, if that's what you mean.' ' No, I don't mean that ; but I should like to know how much a day your beer cost you ? ' ' Well, I suppo.se it was about sixpence a day.' ' And how long, speaking fi-eely, do you suppose you continued to drink it, in that moderate way ? ' ' Why, I suppose, about sixty years. ' Then the gentleman took out his pencil, while the old man went on talking about his temperate habits and the misfortunes that had overtaken him. When the gentleman had worked out his sum, he said to the old man : — ' My friend, temperate as you sav your habits have been, let me tell you that your sixpence a day, for sixty years, at compound interest, has cost you the sum of three thousand two hundred and twenty-six pounds sterling. (That would be sixteen thousand, one hundred and thirty dollars of our money.) And if instead of spending that money for drink, you had laid it aside for your old age, you might now, in place of living in a poorhouse, and being dressed as a pauper, have an income of one hundred and fifty pounds, or seven hundred and fifty dollars a year. That would give you three pounds, or fifteen dollars a week for your support. ' Surely that old man found the sting of this serpent a costly sting ! A little boy had attended a temperance meeting one night. When he came home his father said to him, ' Well, my son, have you learned anything to- night ? ' ' Yes, I have, father.' ' Well, what is it you have learned ? ' ' Why, I have learned never to put any strong drink to my lips ; for they say that intemperance is killing half a million of persons every yealr, and how do I know but it may kill me ? so I have made up my mind to have nothing to do with it.' That is a good lesson for any boy or girl to learn. II. In the Second Place, we should Mind this Warning against the Serpent of Intemperance because its Sting is 'An Injurious Sting'. — The bite of a serpent is never pleasant. It will often cause pain and inflammation, but these effects can generally be removed. They are not always in- jurious. But how different it is with the terrible serpent of intemperance ! Who can tell all the fear- ful injury that is done by its sting? A gentleman was travelling from Boston to Albany in the cars. At one of the stations a fine-looking young man entered the car and sat down by his side. They soon got into conversation together, and talked on a variety of subjects. It seemed that the young man was a theological student and was about to enter the ministry. Something was said about the drinking customs of the day. This caused the young man to say to his companion : — ' Sir, I am only twenty-five years old ; and yet you can't tell me anything new about intemperance. I know it, all through, to my sorrow.' ' Please tell me your story,' said the gentleman. 370 V'cr. o2. PROVERBS XXIII., XXV Ver. U. And then he gave the following account of his ex- perience : ' When I was eighteen years of age I went to Boston, to have charge of the books in a large mercantile house. At my boarding-house I became acciuainted with four young men, who were clerks like myself 'ihoy were in the habit of drinking beer and ale, but nothing stronger then. They in- vited me to join them in drinking, but I declined. They pressed their invitations very earnestly. I said, " I have never drunk a glass of liijuor in my life, and I do not intend to begin now. It would not be just to my temperate parents, nor to mv Christian home." ' Now it happened so that one of those young men had a great turn for fun and ridicule. He said things that made the others laugh at me. This was more than I could stand. I finally yielded and drank the first glass of intoxicating liquor that had ever crossed my lips. The habit grew upon me. I soon became a drunkard, and lost my situation. In two years I had an attack of delirium tremens, and found myself standing on the very brink of a drunkard's grave, and of a drunkard's hell. I was greatly alarmed. Then I resolved, by the help of God, to break away from that terrible slavery. I solemnly vowed never again to taste a drop of intoxicating liquor. God helped me in that struggle. I became a sober man and a Christian. And here I am to-day, a brand plucked from the burning, and soon to go forth and preach the glorious gospel of the Son of God.' III. But then the Sting of this Serpent is ' A Disgraceful Sting ' — and this is the Third Reason why we should Mind this Warning against it. — ■ We never think of such a thing as disgrace in con- nection with the bite of any other serpent. It may cause us pain and uneasiness. We may consider ourselves as unfortunate to be so bitten ; but the idea of disgrace, or dishonour, in connection with any stings we may happen to have, never enters our minds. But it is very different with the sting of this ten'ible serpent of intemperance. Those who are bitten by it, are all the time doing things that are foolish and disgraceful. Let us look at some illustrations of the different ways in which this is done. Our first incident may be called ' playing drunk '. This story is told of a physician who had been very successful in his profession and had quite a large practice. But he had allowed himself to get into the habit of drinking, and would often go staggering home quite drunk. One day after dinner he was lying on the sofa, and his two little boys were playing in the same room. As he lay there, not asleep, but with his eyes half-closed, he heard his boys talking together in their play. One of them said to the other, ' Come, let's play drunk, and stagger about as papa does when he comes home '. Then the elder boy began the play. He went reeling and staggering about the room, rolling his head fi'oni shoulder to shoulder, speaking in a thick, rough voice, and imitating his father's drunken ways. As the father lay there, seeing and hearing all this, his eyes filled with tears, and his heart with grief ' Is it possible,' he said to himself, ' that I, an educated and intelligent man, and occupying so important a place in society, should allow myself to act in a way so perfectly ridiculous and disgraceful before my family and friends ? My boys shall never see me act so foolishly again. From this day forward, as long as I live, by the help of God, I'll never take another drink of intoxicating liquor.' And he was true to his promise. It was a profitable play which those little boys had that afternoon, in showing their father the disgrace of intem iterance. Our next story is one that was told by a prominent Methodist clergyman in England. We may call it, ' Only once drunk '. 'I never shall forget,' says this good minister, 'the end of one with whom I was acquainted, and who was for years a member of my church. He had been a moderate drinker all his days, but had never been known to be intoxicated. On one occasion he had some important business with a merchant from another city, who was accustomed to drink very freely. He invited my friend to spend the evening with him at the hotel, and attend to their business. They were drink- ing from time to time, all through the evening. For the first time in his life my friend became intoxicated. At the close of the evening he went home drunk, and excited by liquor, not knowing what he did, he struck his wife a severe blow, which caused her death. He was arrested and put in prison. When the trial came on he was found guilty, and the sentence of death was pronounced against him. I visited him in his cell,' says his minister. ' I went with him to the scaffold, offered the last prayer with him, and stood by to see him executed ; and there, within sight of the church of which he had been for more than twenty years a member, he was hung like a dog! I never shall forget that scene.' Here we see how disgraceful the sting of this serpent is! — Kichard Newton, Bible Warnings, Addresses to Children, p. 60. APPLES OF GOLD. ' A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in baskets of silver.' — Proverbs xxv. ii (R.V.). ' Words,' says the poet, ' fitly spoken,' are like golden fruit in a silver basket What words could he mean? 1. Words which are fit in themselves — right words. We may be quite sure that there are many words that are not like this, and have no silver basket. Slang may be like the crab-apple, but it is not the golden apple. How out of place ' crabs ' would be in a silver basket. 2. But the text means also right words said in a right way. It matters much what we say, and much also how we say it. Kind words may be so roughly spoken that they lose all their kindness, and severe words may be so gently spoken that they do not sting over- much. 371 Ver. 11. PROVERBS XXV., XXVI Ver. 13. When a black boy was asked by the missionary, ' Who are the meek ? ' his reply was, ' Those who give soft answei-s to rough questions '. We so often spoil words by speaking them wrongly. A boy went to apply for a situation. ' Can you write a good hand ? ' the governor asked. ' Yaas.' ' Good at figures ? ' ' Yaas. ' ' Know the city well ? ' ' Yaas.' 'That will do. I don't want you,' answered the merchant. ' But,' s.iid a friend when the boy had gone, ' I know the lad to be an honest, industrious boy ; why don't you give him a chance ? ' ' Because he hasn't learned to say " Yes, sir," and " No, sir". If he answers me as he did when apply- ing for a situation, how will he answer customers after being here a month ? ' So he lost the first situation he applied for because he hadn't learned about the worth of a word ' fitly spoken '. ITius our text, with its beautiful picture of the golden fruit in silver baskets, teaches us the great worth of our words, when good themselves and when well said. There is a short prayer which we should all pray : ' Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth ; keep the door of my lips '. Mind your words and God will help you. ' Sir,' said a lad coming down to one of the wharves in Boston, and addressing a well-known merchant, ' Sir, have you any berth on your ship ? I want to earn something.' ' What can you do ? ' asked the gentleman. ' I can try my best to do whatever I am put to do,' answered the boy. ' What have you done ? ' ' I have sawn and split all mother's wood for nigh on two years.' ' What have you not done ? ' asked the gentleman, who was a queer sort of questioner. ' Well, sir,' answered the boy, after a moment's pause, ' I have not whispered in school once for . a whole year.' 'That's enough,' said the gentleman; 'you may ship a1x)ard this vessel, and I hope to see you the master of her some day. A boy who can master a wood-pile and bridle his tongue must be made of good stuff.' We could master the wood-pile ; let us try also to master our tongue. Will Carleton says in his First Settler's Story : — Boye flying kites haul in their white-winged birds ; You can't do that way when you're flying words. niitigs that we think may sometimes fall back dead ; But God Himself can't kill them when they're said. ' Kind woixls never die.' And every word fitly spoken is like an apple of gold in a basket of silver. — F. B. Cowl, Digging Ditches, p. 113. HINDRANCES ' There is a lion in the way.' — Proverbs xxvi. 13. The man who says this has got two names, but he doesn't like to be called by either of them. At one time he is called the ' slothful man,' at another time the ' sluj;gard '. You know what a sloth is ? It is a creature as big as a bear, and so lazy ! I very much doubt if it ever saw its own tail, it could not turn round quickly enough to look at it ! And I think you know what a slug is — a lazy little creepy-crawly thing that is always munching, munch- ing— and can't get along for eating. It is always dinner-time with the slug — imlcss it is bed-time. And this man is both a sloth and a slug — a lazy fellow. And that is why he sees a lion in the way. There is always a lion in the way of lazy folk. Some- times there are two or more — a whole menagerie if they are particularly lazy. For, a lion means a difficulty, and whenever you ask a lazy man to do anything difficulties always spring up in his way — like lions — terrible to look at for their glaring eyes, awful to listen to for tlieir fearful roaring. Don't you be afraid of lions ; don't be afraid of them. A good many of them are only stuffed, and their roar is done by machinery. And a good many of them don't exist at all except in your own mind ; when you walk boldly up to what you thought was a lion you will often find it is only a skittish lamb ! But of course there are lions in the world ; some- times there are real difficulties in the way. Very well, when these are there, don't you be like the slug or the sloth — don't run away from them, but go straight to them. For lions, you know, always protect hid treasure. You like to read tales of brave young knights going forth, so fair and free, with sword in hand to deliver young princesses from enchanters' castles, and to fight their way to the caverns where the walls flash with diamonds, and where the old sea-kings had hidden then- chests of gold and silver. Ah, these are his- tories well worth reading. I am very fond of them myself, just because they are all so real and true — • one way. Well, now, did ever any of these bi'ave young knights get to the pi-incess or get to the treasure without having first to meet with a Hon in the wav ? No, never once. A lion or a dragon, or something else that was very fearful to behold, was always there keeping guard. But these young knights always make small account of difficulties like these ; somehow or other when they go up to them boldly, they always get safely past. And you can do the same, if you are of the mind for it, and the best way to help you to do this is by always remembering that just behind the lion there is sure to be something well worth having. The lion would not be there if there was not something behind him well worth keeping. Do you remember how it was with Christian in the Pilgrim's Progress ? He was very weary, and very 372 Ver. 17. PROVERBS XXX Ver. 17. sad, for he had slept when he should have been awake, and there was darkness round about him and he could not see his way. Then he heard the lions roar — 'the very lions that had turned back two friends of his of the name of Mistrust and Timorous, who had started to go with Christian. And now the lions were on his own way, and he wondered if he would have to go back too. But just then the darkness lifted a bit, and he saw a stately palace rising- before him — the Palace Beautiful. Oh, it was such a lovely sight ! he did so wish to enter. But there were two lions before him, right in his way. He would not go back, how- ever, he would go on, and he boldly went up to the lions and passed safely between them. Their roar was like thunder, but their teeth could not reach him, for when he had got quite near them he found that the lions were chained, and there was room between them for him to pass, and so he entered the Palace Beautiful. That's always and always the way. Difficulties ai-e always like lions, to threaten us away if they can from something good or something great that we would like to have, or to learn, or to do. Don't you be afraid of them ; go up to them boldly whenever you see them, and you will find that they are either stuffed with machinery to make them roar, or else they are chained and can't do any harm. "That's the way with Satan, the biggest lion of all. He is always going about, going about, but only as far as his chain will let him. He is chained, and as long as you keep on the right road — Christ's road — his chain can't let him reach you. He never de- voured anybody yet till they had gone off the right road. So, whenever you see a lion in the way, whenever any big difficulty roars and threatens you, have you just one question to ask — are you, or are you not, on the right road ? If you are, then go boldly on ; the lion may fiighten but it can't hurt. You will get past safely, and always, always, just beyond the lion, you will find something well worth having ; some- thing to make you good, and glad, and strong. Win for yourself a good name ; not Sloth, not Slug, not Timorous, not Mistrust, but Christian, and a Christian never turns back from lions in the way. But never will you become a Christian — Christ's very own — till you learn to overcome the hindrances that are sure to be put in the way of your following Jesus. — J. Reid HowATr, The Children's Pew, p. 154 DISOBEDIENT CHILDREN ' The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it.' — Proverbs xxx. 17. NrNE miles from the cathedral city of Lichfield is the little town of Uttoxeter; the gi-ey steeple of the church rising among red-tiled roofs and a few scattered trees. It w-as in the market-place of Uttoxeter that the great Samuel Johnson once stood for an hour in the pelting rain, to punish himself for an act of disobedi- ence to his father, of which he had been guilty many years before. The father of Dr. Johnson was a bookseller in Lichfield ; and it was his custom, for a long while, to attend Uttoxeter market, and to open a stall there for the sale of a portion of his stock-in-trade. On one occasion, being too sick to leave home, he asked his son Samuel to go and attend to the business for him ; but the lad was too proud to do it, and re- fused. His shame and remorse punished him well for it. Fifty yeai-s afterwards, when the tall grass waved above the grave of the old bookseller, and the dis- obedient son had become one of the most distinguished men in the literary world, the remembrance of the sin of his boyhood was still fresh in his memory. Being on a visit to some friends in a neighbouring town he hired a can'iage, without explaining his purpose to anyone, and told the driver to take him to Uttoxeter. When he reached the market-place, in spite of wind and rain, he got out and stood for an hour, bareheaded, in the open square, much to the astonishment of the villagers to whom he was a stranger, and who thought, very likely, that he was some poor crazy man who did not know what he was about. He did know, however, for he was enduring agonies of mind for his ingratitude and disobedience to his father. May none of you have to suffer for a like cause ! In the fifth commandment, as you will remember, the Lord promises a special blessing to those who honour their parents, while in the text He threatens the disobedient with a curse. ' The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out and the young eagles shall eat it.' Here, you will obsei-ve, it is not only said that God will punish rude and disrespectful ivords spoken to parents, but even the scornful look. Many wretched culprits, in their dying confessions, have testified that their downward course to ruin began with the sin of disobedience to their father and mother ; and the bodies of such criminals were usually left unburied, exposed to beasts and birds of prey. I need not tell you the fearful story of Hophni and Phinehas, sons of old Eli, the priest, weltering in their blood on the battle-field ; nor of disobedient Absalom, hanging by his long hair from the bough of a tree, pierced through with Joab's darts, cast into a pit, and covered with a heap of stones. Even when wicked children escape such signal vengeance, they are often punished by being cursed with thankless sons and daughters of their own. St. Paul, in his frightful picture of heathenism, places ' disobedience to parents ' in the foreground of it ; and, again, in one of his later Epistles, he speaks of it as one of the signs that the end of the world is near. The Jewish law punished this sin with death, and the Hindoos deprive a child of his inheritance who is guilty of it. 373 Ver. 17. PROVERBS XXX Ver. 17. Do you ask, Why is it so wrong to disobey one's parents ? I answer : — I. It is a sin to disobey them, Because we Owe so Much to Them. — As soon as the cries of the helpless infant are heard, the heart of the mother yearns towards it with the tenderest affection. With what ceaseless and unwearied self-devotion does she study to promote its comfort and welfare ! What toil, and weariness, and watchings, and care, and pain, does she endure 1 A good man, who treasures up grateful memories of all this, has thus expressed himself in well-chosen words : — My mother ! manhood's anxious brow And sterner cares have long been mine ; Yet turn I to thee fondly now, As when upon thy bosom's slirine My infant griefs were gently hushed to rest, And thy low whispered prayers my slumber blessed. I referred to the debt of gratitude which is due to a mother. And has youv father done nothing to call forth your love and reverence ? How hard and un- complainingly has he laboured that you might be fed, and clothed, and educated ! Gratitude ought to make a child ashamed of being disobedient or disre- spectful. Never can you show too much care and attention to your father. Joseph, when viceroy of Egypt, took pleasure in leading the plain old shepherd, his father, into the royal court, and introducing him to the king. One shows real Tnanliness in his strict obedience to parental rule. When Antipater wi-ote to his friend, Alexander the Great, making many complaints against the monarch's mother, he answered with the spirit of a devoted son, ' Knowest thou not that one tear of my mother will blot out a thousand such letters ? ' II. Another reason why it is wrong to be disobedi- ent to parents is, Because Qod Commands us to Honour and Obey Them. — They are not even to be regarded by their children as ordinary men and women, but as those to whom the Almighty has given certain rights, which they have no excuse for disregard- ing. In loving, honouring, and obeying theTYi, children are loving, honouring, and obeying God. The Lord commands children to do this, and He rewards them for it. You have all heard of boys and girls who came to harm because they set at naught God's will in this pai'ticular. The little fellow whose mother had cautioned him against going into the river to bathe more than once a day, and then only for a short time, but who slipped away unnoticed and went in several times, and got the typhoid fever by it — he was one example that you will remember. That boy with one leg, who hobbles about on a crutch, came to grief for the same sin of disobedience. He had been told not to go near the cannon which the men were firing on the Fourth of July, but he did not choose to mind, and when the gun exploded it made him a cripple for life. It is true that all disobedient children do not fare as badly, but I believe there are very few of them who escape the stings of conscience and the pangs of re- morse, as in the case of Dr. Johnson, of which I have already told you. A little boy who had a kind, good father came from school one day and found him very sick. His mother was also confined to the bed, and there was nobody but the boy's two sisters to wait upon them. The father continued to grow worse, and several physicians were called in to consult about his case. They had agreetl as to the mode of treatment which should be pursued, and had prescribed the proper remedies. After they had left the house the sick man called his son and said, ' My little boy, I am very ill, and I wish you to take that paper on the stand and run to the apothecary's shop, and get me the medicine written on it '. The apothecary's shop was about half a mile off, and the little fellow set off briskly on his eiTand, as he had often done before. He found the shop shut, the apothecary having gone to his house which was a short distance beyond. Had the little boy done his duty he would have hastened there, and made known his business ; but feeling somewhat weary he returned to his sick father without the medicine. As soon as he entered the room he saw that the poor sufferer was in great agony, and the disobedient child felt self-condejnned when his father said, ' I hope my little boy has brought me the medicine, for I am in dreadful pain ' The boy hung his head and muttered out a lie : ' No, sir, the apothecary has got none '. ' Has got none ! Is this possible ? ' asked the sick man. He cast a keen glance on his son, and sus- pecting that he had told him a falsehood, he said, with a deep sigh, ' My little boy will see his father suffer great pain for the want of that medicine ! ' The boy rushed out of the room and cried bitterly, but he was .soon called back. He found the whole family standing around the bed, and the dying father about to give his parting counsels. Speaking to each in turn, he came at last to the little disobedient boy, the youngest of them all. The sick man laid his trembling hand upon his head, and gently reminded him that in a few hours he would have no father. ' You must make God your father, my dear boy,' he said, ' and love and obey Him, and always tell the truth.' The child felt so guilty and so wretched that he could not look his father in the face, but sobbing aloud he rushed from the bedside, and wished, in the agony of remorse, that he could die. How much he would have given, at that moment, if he had not so cruelly disobeyed his dying father ! He crept back to the room again and heard the minister praying by the sick-bed. Snatching up his hat, he ran with all speed to the apothecary's and got the medicine. 874 Ver. 17. PROVERBS XXX Ver. 17. and, retuniiiig with equal haste, he was rushing in with it to give it to his father, when some one caught hnn by the arm and whispered, ' He is dead ! ' The boy was stupefied and confounded. When he was somewhat recovered he gazed upon the pale, cold face of his dear father, and his soul was pierced with acutest agony as he recalled the words, ' My little boy will see his father suffer great pain for want of that medicine ! ' In a day or two after the father's remains were laid in the grave. Some of those who attended the funeral, observing how much distressed the youngest child was, did their best to comfort him. The more kindly, however, that they spoke to him, the more deeply did he feel his own wickedness in having treated his dying parent with such cruelty. Twelve years later, when the little boy had g^own to be a stout lad of eighteen, and was a student in college, he visited his father's grave. As he read the inscription on the humble tombstone, the pale, re- proachful face rose up before his mind's eye, and he thought he would be willing to give worlds, if he had them, to have been able to make his father, then in paradise, hear his piteous lament, while he craved his forgiveness. Whenever any of you are disposed to be disobedi- ent to your parents, think of this touching story, and take warning by it. — John N. Norton, Milk and Honey, p. 208. f/n EGGLESIASTES A THREEFOLD CORD •A threefold cord is not quickly broken.'— Ecclesiastes iv. i2_ Some people cry at the word 'broken,' and there are some things which, when they are broken, it would almost, if it were possible, make an angel cry. There is a very sad account about some things being broken in the eleventh chapter of Zechariah, but before we look at it I will tell you something about it, and then you will understand it better. There were the people of Israel and the people of Judah, and they loved God ; and when they loved God thev loved one another too. And one day the prophet Zechariah took two sticks, and he called one stick 'Beauty,' and he called the other stick 'Bands'; and he said the stick ' Beauty' meant that Israel and Judah loved God ; and the stick ' Bands ' meant that Judah loved Israel, and Israel loved Judah ; and when the people of Israel and Judah did not love God, then the prophet broke the stick ' Beauty ' ; as soon as that was broken, and they did not love God any more, then Israel did not love Judah, and Judah did not love Israel. Now look at Zechariah xl 7, 'And I took unto me two staves (i.e. two sticks) : the one I called Beauty, and the other I called Bands '. Now look at the tenth verse, ' And I took my staff, even Beauty, and cut it asunder, that I might break my covenant which I had made with all the people '. Then look at the fourteenth verse : ' Then I cut asunder mine other staff, even Bands, that I might break the brotherhood between Judah and Israel '. Do you understand it? The stick ' Beauty ' showed that Israel and Judah loved God, and the stick ' Bands' showed that they loved one another ; so when the stick ' Beauty ' was broken, then ' Bands ' was also broken. There were three beings : God, Israel, and Judah. When Judah and Israel loved God it was all right; but as soon as stick 'Beauty' was broken, ' Bands ' was broken. But ' a threefold cord is not quickly broken '. Now we will see a little more about that. We say, ' Thi-ee times one aie three ' ; but in the Bible three times one are more than three. I mean this. Three together are more than three separate ones. If you were to take three little separate threads and pull them, they would not be nearly so strong as if you were to put them together and make them one. They would be stronger together than separate. 'A threefold cord ' — three things all plaited together — twined into one another — 'is not quickly broken.' I. I wonder what it means. ' A threefold cord ! ' Do you understand, do you think you quite under- stand that word ' Trinity ' ? Will you think? 'Trinity' means that there are three persons who make the one great God. We can all say that ; I wonder who understands it ? No one, no one in the world under- stands it. We say it, we believe it ; because it is in the Bible. We cannot understand it. A great many years ago, in the fourth century after Christ, there was a very good and wise man, and he was very much troubled because he could not under- stand about God — how there could be three ])ersons, and they make one God ; and he was very much dis- tressed about it : and they tell this story about him. It is a fable. When his mind was very much dis- tressed because he could not understand about God, he one day went down to the seashore ; and by the seaside he saw an angel, and the angel was emptying the sea into a little shell — taking up the sea and pouring it into a shell. ' What are you doing ? ' said the man to the angel. ' I am emptying the sea into the shell,' was the reply. The man smiled — ' What I emptying the sea into a shell ! ' ' Oh, yes,' said the angel, ' that is easy work compared with what you are trying to do, for you are trying to get the great God into your little mind.' Therefore we cannot so easily understand about 'the Trinity,' as we could put the sea into a little shell; and that would bean impossibilitv. I wish you to be very attentive for this is very important. Some people say it is very difficult ; but I do not think it is. Do try. It is very solemn what I am going to say. You know there is God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, and those three are the one God. If anybody were to ask you how many Gods there are you must not say three, that would not be right, but one; and in that one God there is God the Father, God the Son, sind God the Holy Ghost. God the Father loved us : He always loved us : He loves us now : I cannot tell you how much God loves us ! and He wanted us all to come to Him and be happy, and live with Him for ever. But do you know between us and God there was a great mountain — so that we could not come to God — and that mountain was made up all of sins — our sins ! God the Son said, ' I am going to take away that mountain '. So He came down from heaven to take that mountain — the mountain of the sins of all the world. Oh, it was such a weight ! When it was upon Him it made the blood come out through His pores. It made Him sweat blood. That great mountain was such a load, and He carried it all away that we might all come to God when the mountain was gone. 876 Ver. 12. ECCLESIASTES IV Ver. 12. And did we then come to God ? Oh, no ; we did not wish to come — we had not in our hearts to come to Him. Then the Holy Ghost said, ' I will go and make them willing'. So the Holy Ghost came, and He put it into our hearts to wish to come to God, and to make us able to come to God, and teach us how to come to God. And then — when the Holy Ghost put it into our hearts to be willing to come, and the mountain was removed — then we were willing to come. And were we then fit to come to God ? No, not at all. So Jesus Christ said, 'I will make them fit'. So He put upon every one of us the robe of His righteousness — beautiful robe! more beautiful than any wedding robe — and made us fit to come to God. Then we could come. When Jesus had removed the mountain, and the Holy Ghost had made us willing, and Jesus Christ had put on us the robe, then we could come to God and be happy for ever. So God gave us to Christ and He washed us from our sins, and the Holy Ghost made us willing and then gave us back to Christ to be clothed, and Christ gave us back to the Father. That is ' the Trinity '. That is what God the Father does ; what God the Son does ; what God the Holy Ghost does. Do you understand that ? Do try. It is so beautiful — so comforting. How we are saved — -how it is all done — how the Trinity does it — God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Now I will tell you another thing about God. Do listen. Sometimes it happens with us that persons do not know what they ought to do ; and sometimes persons know what they ought to do, but they cannot do it, they have not the power to do it ; and some persons know, but have not the will. Now God has all three. God has infinite knowledge — He knows everything ; and infinite power — He can do every- thing ; and infinite love — He wills everything. Now there is ' a threefold cord ' — God's wisdom — God's power— God's love ; and these hold us on to the throne of God in heaven. If one of these ' cords ' were 'broken ' no one could be saved. If God were not infinitely wise — strong — loving— nobody could be saved ; but God's wisdom, God's power, and God's love make the ' threefold cord '. Now just look at the tenth of John and the twenty- ninth verse. What fasten you so strongly to God ? God's wisdom, God's power, God's love. ' None shall pluck them out of My Father's hand.' Why? be- cause we are tied so fast — ^God's wisdom, God's power, God's love are the ' threefold cord ' that fastens us to the throne of God. II. And now I will not speak any more about ' the Trinity,' but now I am going to speak to you about other ' threefold cords,' and I think I can tell you about some "threefold cords' for you. And, first, about one I wish you to have in your bedroom, before you come downstairs in the morning, or go to bed at night. I am going to give you ' a threefold cord ' in your bedroom ; and then a ' threefold cord ' when you come downstaii'S. First, ' a threefold cord ' in your bedroom. What do you think it is? Can you think about it? No- body should come downstairs till he has this 'three- fold cord ' ; and it is this ; a promise — a prayer — and something to do. I will tell you how I mean. Now I am preaching and you are listening — let us see if we can find about that (about teaching, being taught) a promise, a prayer, and a duty — making ' a threefold cord ' which we must join together, plait together, and make it strong. Now there is the promise — Jesus Christ said in the fourteenth of John that the Holy Spirit should 'teach us all things'. There is a promise — we shall all be taught. Look at Psalm xxv. 4 — there is a beautiful prayer, we should all ask God to teach us, ' Show me Thy ways, O Lord ; teach me Thy paths '. Then look at Psalm xxxiv. 11, 'Come, ye children, heaiken unto Me ; I will teach you the fear of the Lord '. So there I have the promise that God will teach us all, the prayer to Him to do so, and the duty — hearken, be attentive, listen. We must put the three together. The promise is of no use without the prayer, or the prayer without the duty ; bat if we string them altogether, very tight — have the prayer, the promise, and the duty — then it will be 'a threefold cord,' which 'cannot be quickly broken'. There was a little girl, and as she was going along the street, I am sorry to tell you, she met with a very bad accident, for there were some boys fling- ing stones and one went into her eye and hurt her very dreadfully. She had to be carried home ; her father sent for a surgeon who said she must undeigo a dreadful operation. She sat on her father's knee, and he asked her if she was ready to submit to the operation. ' Not quite, father,' she replied ; ' I should like to wait a minute ; I have not prayed to God yet.' This was her prayer, ' O God, forgive the little boy who hmt me, and help me to bear the pain well, and may Jesus be with me '. She then said, ' Father, I am ready now ' ; and she bore it without a cry, and so patient was she that all the people who stood by said, ' How God can help a little girl to bear pain ! ' See what the grace of God can do ! Now there was a ' threefold cord ' which that little girl had — she prayed to God, she rested on the promise, she obeyed a commandment. So she was strong in her ' three- fold cord,' and could bear pain without muraiuring. I will tell 3'ou about another little girl. There was a gentleman who lived in Austria, who did not love God or the Bible, in fact he did not believe the Scriptui'es. One day he was walking out, and he saw standing in the front of a little cottage upon the door-step a little girl, and she was reading her Bible, and'teai-s were rolling down her cheeks. The gentle- man went up to her, and said very kindly, ' My dear, what is the matter ? Are you unhappy ? What do you cry for ? ' She said, ' I am not at all unhappy, sir; I am very happy'. 'But you are crying,' he said. ' Oh, they are not tears of sorrow,' she replied, 'but of joy. I am very happy.' 'What makes you so happy ? ' ' Oh, I have been reading about Jesus «577 Ver. 12. ECCLESIASTES IV Ver. 12. Christ, and it makes me so happy to read about Him, because He is so ivind to me.' The gentleman said, ' But Jesus Christ is dead '. She said, 'Oh, no, sir; He is not dead, He Hves up in heaven, and He loves me so much '. And he said, ' If Jesus Christ loves you, why have you such poor clothes, because He could send you money to buy better ones ? ' She said, ' I care not about money, He makes me happy, and I'm going to Him when I die '. He said, ' I suppose some one has told you that ? ' ' No, sir ; this book tells me — and it's all true, and it makes me so glad.' And he said, ' How do you know it is true ? ' She said, ' Oh, I know it is true — it's all true ; indeed it's all true ; and it makes me so glad and happy, it must be true '. That was the little girl's way of reasoning. ' It must be true, because it makes me so happy.' Do you know the gentleman could not forget it. He went away and thought, ' This Bible makes that little girl so happy. I do not feel it. Perhaps if I go to church I shall feel it too.' And he went to church, and he did begin to feel it, and that gentle- man became a very holy minister ; and he used to go then, and say to others, just as that little girl said to him, 'I know it's all true in the Bible, because it makes me so happy. God promises it, and God does it — I am sure it's all true.' It was 'the three- fold cord,' and it could not be 'broken' — promises, prayers, and duties. Will you never go downstairs (unless you arc called), never leave your bedroom in the morning, till you have your ' cord ' ? and take care you have the three ' cords ' of it well plaited together — a pro- mise, a prayer, and something to do : don't begin to do anything without the prayer and the promise , but twine them altogether, and ' a threefold cord ' will last you all the day. III. Now we'll come downstairs and I will give you ' a threefold cord '. I look at you, and I think — what are you made of ? You have a body — that we can see ; and inside your body you have a soul ; and inside your soul I hope and believe you have God's Spirit. Then you are body, soul, and spirit. Now I have my three threads. I am going to make a 'cord'. The Spirit must rule the soul, and the soul must rule the body. I know some boys and girls where the body rules the soul. That is not the way to plait it ; but the spirit must rule the soul, and the soul must rule the body. If it is so, then your 'threefold cord' is right. Every one of you have body, soul, and spirit — all tied together— so that the spirit should rule the soul, and the soul rule the body. Now, having these, I must tell you that there are three things we have to do every day. Just think what they are. The first thing is, we have to take care of our own souls — to wash them : do you know how? To dress them: do you know how ? To keep them : do you know how ? Wash your soids in the right fountain ; dress them in the right garment ; keep them in the right way. Now, recollect these. We have to be happy. There are two heaps in the world — a heaj) of trouble and a heap of happiness. Never think a day has been well spent unless you have decreased the heap of trouble, and increased the heap of joy. Take some, if even a very little bit, off the heap of trouble, and add it to the heap of joy. We have to do good to others, to be useful ; and one other thing we have to do is to glorify God ; to honour God. A very little child can honour God. A baby can honour God. Whenever a person conquers himself, or herself, God is honoured. We have three things to do — to take care of our own souls, to be useful to those about us, and to glorify God, then we have a ' threefold cord ' which is ' not quickly broken '. Now I will tell you about a sailor boy who, I think, did it. A ship called the ' Cornelia ' was on her way to the West Indies, and as she crossed the Atlantic she encountered several severe storms. A gentleman on board relates that during one storm he was stand- ing on deck by the mate of the ship ; the sea was boiling, the .ship tossing dreadfully, when somerigging on the top of the mainmast was misplaced. The mate saw the danger in a moment ; he called a boy from the forepart of the ship : the boy stood before him with his cap in his hand. 'Go up to the rovals and right that rigging.' The boy looked a moment; he knew the danger ; the ship was pitching dreadfully ; but he saw the mate meant what he said : and he bolted off', ran forward, pitched down the forecastle, disapjieared a minute, then came out again ; mounted the rigging like a squirrel ; was about fifteen minutes putting it to rights ; when he had done it, down he came, drew himself straight upright, not ashamed to see anybody. The mate patted him on the head, and said nothing. Presently the gentleman spoke to him. 'My boy, why did you hesitate when the mate told you to go up, and why did you go down the forecastle ? ' The boy replied, ' I thought it would be no harm if for one minute I asked God to take care of me ; and I just said a prayer '. ' Who told you to do that?' said the gentleman. ' My mother told me it would be no time lost to pray to God.' The gentleman said, ' 1 thought I saw something in your pocket — what was it ? ' ' My Bible, sir ; I thought I should be safer if I had my Bible in my pocket. I thought if tossed into the sea, I should like my Bible with me. I had no fear while I had my Bible with me ; and could pray to God ; and therefore I did it, sir.' He had something stronger than the ropes of the rigging — something greater than man's grasp, hadn't he ? He had ' a threefold cord ' — ;just what he ought to have : he had the spirit ruling his soul, and his soul ruling his body — true courage ! and he had God's word. ' A threefold cord.' He was himself serving God ; he was doing good to his fellow-creatures, and honouring God by the way in which he did it. Now I'm going to tell you another ' threefold cord '. Sometimes boys and girls make great friendships one with another; girls make great friendships, but Ver. 1. ECCLESIASTES VII., IX Ver. 10. their friendships don't last very long : and why ? because it was a twofold cord, and not a ' threefold '. If you were to go to Portsmouth (I know it was so some years ago, I am not sure whether it is so now, I think it is), in the dockyards, where they make the queen's ropes, you would see a little red thread run- ning along the centre of the rope : the rope is made like any other rope, with the exception of a red thread — which marks a royal cable. Always have a little red thread — showing your royalty — that you love the King of kings, the Son of God — Jesus Christ. It is a good colour — red : and it is the red blood of Christ that makes everything good. Therefore take care there is Christ in your ' cords '. Let Christ be the third party. When boys with boys make friend- ships, let Chi'ist be in the friendships. When people maiTy, let Christ be in the marriage. If Christ is not there it will split or break, it will not hold ; but if Christ be there, ' a threefold cord is not quickly broken '. Once more, the greatest of all : there is the ' three- fold cord ' of real life. What is real life ? To live for evermore. And how are we to live for evermore ? to be happy for evemiore ? I will tell you. There was a little boy, eleven years old ; he was dying : a minister went to see him ; he was looking very pale and weak. He said to him, ' My dear boy, you look very weary '. The little boy said, ' I trust Jesus — I love Jesus — I am going to follow Jesus. Jesus loves me — I love Jesus, I am strong in Jesus.' Hearken to that little voice : see that ' threefold cord ' — ' I trust Jesu.s — I love Jesus — I am following Jesus'. Therefore he said, 'I am strong ' — for he had the ' threefold cord '. This is the ' cord ' of eternal life. To trust Jesus — that is life in Jesus ; to love Jesus — that is life with Jesus ; to follow Jesus, that is life to Jesus : and life in Jesus, and life with Jesus, and life to Jesus is the ' threefold cord ' which shall hold on to life for ever- more ; nothing shall ever rend it. If you have got that ' cord,' you will never die. Now in this rough life you want a good anchor — you have it — it is the Lord Jesus Christ : but the anchor must have good cable — let it be the ' threefold cord '• — ' I trust Jesus, I love Jesus, I follow Jesus,' and ' a threefold cord is not quickly broken '. — James Vaughan. THE BLUE-BELL (HYACINTH) 'A good name is better than precious ointment.' — Ecclesiastes VII. I. Blue-bell, a good name — matches the flower — we like the flower and so we like the name. Why do we like the flower? I. Not because of the Name. — Blue, i.e. really the colour made by a bloiv — and Bell, much the same as bellow, the noise a beast makes when you give him a blow. So the name, by itself, may mean no more than ' Cry out when you're hurt ' ; very sensible advice, but as commonplace as sensible. The flower makes the name good, not the name the flower. Judas (Praise) had a good name, but it did not make him a good man. (Jur Lord's mother was called ' Mary,' she made the name good, though it meant bitterness. II. Not the Family History. — Botanists call our blue-bell ' the hyacinth without writing '. Some people prize their name because it tells of noble an- cestry. In this case rather a sad name than a good name. [Tell the story. Apollo and Zephyr both wanted to have Hyacinth, a prettv boy, for their own special friend. Hyacinth liked Apollo best. So one day, when they were all playing at quoits. Zephyr, in a fit of jealousy, blew Apollo's quoit aside so that it hit and killed Hyacinth. Flowers said to have sprung up out of his blood, and on the leaves strange letters which meant woe ! woe !] A child's character need not lie spoiled though his father's memory is written w-ith sad records ! III. Not because of its Relations. — Squills — Garlic, etc., all belong to the same family. Judged by them any of their relations would hardly be admitted into respectable society. Apply to the case of children with disreputable connections — we must not let the misconduct of their friends prejudice us against re- ceiving them. IV. Because of its own Character. — How beautiful it is ! How gain such beautv ? Instead of display- ing its leaves when young it makes a bulb and saves up its strength — so is able to put forth and nourish the flower. If we want a good name, let us work for it when young that we may win it. — C. A. Goodhart, Hints and Oittlines for Children's Services, p. 89. THOROUGH 'Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.' — Ecclesiastes ix. lo. That means, does it not, that whatever you have got to do you should do it at once ? You should. There is a great big word you may have heard — may have heard others use it, but I fancy it is too big for your size. It is the word pro-cras-ti-na-tion ! Do you know what it means ? It means the lazy man's hard-working day. For procrastination means putting off" till to-morrow, and to-morrow is always the lazy man's day for hard work. He always intends doing something great to-morrow, and when to-morrow comes he finds he meant the to-morrow after that, and the one after it, and so on ; it is always to- morrow. A right man's work-day is always now ; when a thing should be done, it is there and then he does it. Learn to do the same. Procrastination is like the rainbow — it is always just a little way ahead, but then nobody has ever been able to come up with it ; and if you get into the habit of putting oiF and putting off, you will find that things also get into the habit of going off and going off, so that you will never be able to get right hold of them. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it forthwith. But doesn't the text also mean this: Whenever you have anything to do, begin with the fart that is nearest you ? When you have a skein of silk that has got all in 379 Ver. 10. ECCLESIASTES IX., X Ver. 1. a tangle, and you want to straighten it out, there are two ways you can do it. You can do it by turning the skein over and over, and looking at it in and out till you have got hold of the proper end of the thread ; but if you do that you will often lose as much time as would have straightened out most of it. The other way is the best way ; begin anywhere, begin with the part that is nearest you. Get that out of the loop next it ; you will find it easier to get it out of the next and the next ; and so you will go on till by and by the right end will come to your fingers, and come as if it was ashamed for being so long a-coming. Meanwhile half your work is done ! And it is the same with everything. Have you lessons to learn ? It does not matter very much with which you begin, so that you do begin. Have you a lot of things to do ? Well, they may look tangled a bit, but what is the best way to deal with a tangle ? It is by beginning with what is nearest, and the rest will soon get straight. Get a beginning anyhow, and go on at once. To help you to do that, I want you to think of this : that which you ought to do is very sacred. Don't you wonder sometimes why you were born at this time, and not a thousand years ago, or a thousand years to come? And don't you wonder sometimes why you were born in such a place, instead of ten thousand miles away from it ? and often wonder too why you should be living here, and going to school here, and making acquaintances here, in- stead of living away where the sun sets or the wild jungles are? These things are all wonderful, but do they not show that God has got a hand in it all ? God wants you to do something now, and where you are, and as you are, or else He would have created you at another time and put you in another place. And how can we know what God wants of us except by what He lays to our hands to do ? When- ever there is anything we ought to do, we may be sure God's hand is just on the other side of it, and therefore it is very sacred. It may seem very trifling in itself, but if it is what we ought to do, it will be found at last to have been very important. Take one instance. About the beginning of the year 1885 England was very nearly going to war with Russia. Oh ! that would have been a big, big war if it had broken out ! It would have been like burn- ing oil upon water, nobody could guess where the flames would spread to ; and who do you think helped to rouse up the angry feelings of this country ? It was a man and a boy a■^ ay in the great deserts of Persia. For the telegraph wire that should have carried to us quickly the news which would make us decide for peace or war, was a wire that stretched across these deserts from Meshed to Teheran, and in many places the wire got slack, and camels and sheep and oxen strayed over it and sometimes broke it ; and when it was found to be broken a man and a boy were sent off to have it mended. But they were in no hun'y ; they didn't do what they had to do with all their might ; they took their leisure, chatting with friends and enjoying themselves, and so were two or three days doing what could have been done in a few hours ; and all this time angry people in the House of Commons were demanding why we had not got news, and were hinting very unpleasantly about people wilfully keeping back information ; yet the delay was owing to the man and the boy who thought there was no need for being in a hurry about mending a mere wire ! They knew nothing about the messages the wire was to caiTy ; they knew nothing about the House of Commons. I don't believe thev had ever heard of the Lord Mayor even ! but yet through their carelessness about doing what was waiting to be done, they were nearly plunging this nation into a great and ten-ible war ! Learn to look on whatever vou have to do as something sacred, ju.st because it is what you ought to do, and therefore God's hand is on the other side of it. There is nothing really trifling in the world; one thing is joined to another; whatever ought to be done, do it well and promptly. And do it with your might. There are some children who never think they are doing anything with their might unless they are doing it with a great deal of fuss and noise and roughness. That is not might, that is weakness ; true strength bridles itself and works quietly. One dav a ship got aground on the river. A big tug-boat was sent foi-, and was fastened to the ship, and tugged and tugged, and churned the water with its paddles ; but the ship would not move. They then tried another tug-boat, not nearly so large as the first ; and round went its paddles, and the rope was strained more and more, and at last the ship was seen to move, and was soon floating down the river after the little tug-boat. Why could the little tug-boat do what the big tug-boat could not ? Because the' big tug was wasting its steam, letting a great deal escape by the side-holes ; but the little tug didn't waste an ounce of steam, it knew how to use it all, and so worked with a quiet might. Learn you to do the same ; whatever you have to do, do it with your might ; and that does not mean noise and clatter, it means quiet, determined earnestness. If you have to play, play heartily ; if you have to work, work with your heart in what you have to do. — J. Reid Howati, The Ghurchette, p. 187. FLIES ' Dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to smell badly ; so doth a little mischief mar a whole life.' — ECCLESIASTES X. I. This is the fly season ; wherever you are you have some fly or another with its ten thousand eyes upon you. They are the commonest of creatures, indeed too common — if flies will forgive the remark ! And yet, although they are so common, there are certain questions about a fly which you would find difficult to answer. How does a fly walk on the ceiling ? Why do you so often find dead flies on the window- panes ? Why do some flies buzz and others not buzz ? Can flies see in the dark ? When you try to 380 Ver. 1. ECCLESIASTES X., XII Ver. 1. catch them, why is it they see your hand so quickly ? What do th.y tat ? Are little Hies children of the big flies ? You know the fly belongs to the largest family in the world — Insects. Insects are so called because they look as if they were ' cut into,' as it were. They have no neck to speak of; they are in three parts, just held together by a thread, first the head by itself, then the chest with the six legs, and then the rest of the body. When a fly is born a fly, he is born full- grown ; and he never grows any more ! ' Oh ! ' you say, ' that is strange.' But no more strange than that some full-grown people should be bigger than other full-grown people. A fly has babies, but they are not at all like their parents — not a bit ! So that not even the greatest flatterer could say, ' How like his father ! ' Like a moth or daddy-long-legs the fly lays eggs which hatch out into small worms, very much like those little grubs that you see in cheese and in nuts. Indeed cheese-mites are first cousins to the tiny fly-giubs. Their great business is to eat and grow ; and they grow so fast, and eat so much that at last their coats are too small for them. When your coat is too small, your mother puts the buttons forward a little ; the fly's mother cannot do that. So when he has eaten too much the only thing is for him to stop eating. And inside his coat there is a larger coat, all crinkly and folded up. Then the old coat cracks off" and the new coat remains ; but it is many sizes too big for him ! So he blows it out with air, which he sucks in through his tubes ; and then he goes to sleep again. But the most wonderful changes are going on, until at last one day in the sunshine out comes a fly. How does it get out ? When you open a matchbox you touch the spring and open flies the box. Only he is inside, and like a chicken in the egg he hammers away with his head until out he comes. Then he unpacks his trunk and his six legs and his feelers and wings, and off" he flies. And he is j ust as big then as on the day of his death. Live he ever so long he will never grow. Flies are very light, for they have air-bags under- neath their stomachs. And they buzz and paddle about in the air very quickly, their wings beatmg 600 times to a second. A fly can beat a race-horse. A fly, I suppose, talks, just as an ant talks ! He has the same sort of feelers as an ant has ; and ants, when they meet in the road, very often cross their feelers and talk to one another. I should very much like to hear what an ant says, but we have not discovered the cipher of their language yet ! We shall find the ' Rosetta-stone ' of that one day, I dare say. Every now and then you see flies buzzing around one another and stopping for a chat in the air. What do they talk about ? Do you know what the trunk of a fly is ? It is a long thin tube for sucking up juices, for flies eat up things that are going rotten. Do you know where the fly's eyes are ? "Thi-ee of them are on the top of the head, but his whole head is one mass of eyes, so that the fly can look at once nearly all round. I cannot describe it : you must look for yourself through a microscope, and at the same time you should look at the fly's foot; it has claws which fit into the smallest crevices, and two pads covered with long hairs, and each hair has sticky fluid on it. So it is that a fly can walk on the ceiling upside down. I heard the other day one little child say to another, ' You haven't the heart of a fly, or you would not do that'. I thought to myself, that is rather unfair to a fly, liecause a fly has a very big heart, for a fly. A heart that reaches all over his body, from end to end ; and a plucky little creature a fly is. I am always very .sorry for flies, though I can- not say that I love them : for I am glad that as we get cleaner in our habits and in our houses, the flies get scarcer. Why ? Because fly's eggs are laid in dirt : and wherever there are many flies there is sure to be much dirt. Thirty years ago there were many more flies than now. But I am always very sorry for flies, because in the autumn they die of a terrible disease. I don't mean the spiders. When we come down in the morning and look at the window-panes, we say, ' Ah ! there are six dead flies on the window- panes '. And there is a kind of white stuff about them adhering to the glass. A few years ago in France they found that the silkworms were dying of a terrible disease, and they sent men into the district to find out about it. And those men were so clever that they stopped the disease. It was very much the same disease that a fly dies of. But there is no M. Pasteur to look into the illnesses of flies, still less to cure them. A mould eats into them, eats them hollow, so that only the case is left. A fly weighs very little, a couple of thousand of them go to an ounce ; but a dead fly is pathetically lighter still. The wise man of olden days said that dead flies in the sweetest perfume will cause it to rot and smell horridly. And, said he, in exactly the same way, one foolish deed will work mischief throughout a whole life. How many sad stories of men's lives there are which can be summed up in those sad lines of the poet : — The little rift witliin the lute That by and by will make the music mute. Be careful to keep your life sweet and clean. One meanness, one falsehood may mar so much. The Crimean War, with all its fearful pain and trouble, arose from a miserable quaixel whether a Greek priest or a Latin priest should keep the key of the door of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. So much harm is made by one ' dead fly in the ointment,' one bail thing that gets into the mind and heart, and stays there. — Bernard J. Skell, The Good God, p. 95. THE WARNING NOT TO FORGET GOD 'Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth.' — ECCLESIASTES XII. I. I. Jn the First Place, we ought to Mind this Warn- ing for 'The Lord's Sake'. — Our first illustration may be called — minding God. 381 Ver. 1. ECCLESIASTES XII Ver. 1. ' I wish I could mind God as my little dog minds me,' said a little boy, looking thoughtfully at his shaggy friend ; ' he always seems so pleased to mind, and I don't.' That little dog obeyed his young master for his master's sake. He really loved him, and tried to show his love by the cheerful, ready way in which he obeyed him. This was the right thing for him to do ; and it is just what God expects us to do. When He says, ' Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth,' He means that we should do this for His sake, to show our love to Him ; just as that little dog showed his love to his master, by doing gladly and cheerfully whatsoever he told him to do. Our next illustration may be called — the one gift. There is one gift which we may all make to God, and which He will value more than anything else we can possibly offer to Him. It is that to which He refers when He says, ' My son, give me thine heart '. If we had millions of money, and we should offer it all to God, it would be worth nothing to Him, unless we first gave Him our hearts. A little Sabbath school girl brought a present to her teacher of a bouquet of beautiful flowers. ' And why do you bring me these ? ' asked her teacher. ' Because I love you,' was her quick reply. ' And do you bring anything to Jesus ? ' asked the teacher. ' Oh, yes,' was her reply, ' I have given my heart to Jesus.' That was a beautiful answer. And that is just what Jesus expects each one of us to do. He wants us to remember Him in our youth, and to give Him our hearts, as this little girl had done. And He wants us to do this for His own .sake, and out of love to Him. And then everything we do for Him, and everything we give to Him, will be pleasing and acceptable to Him. II. The Second Reason why we should do this is ' For Our Own Sal