r, MESS7IGES y 
 
 k OF HOPE ^A 
 
 GEORGE M7ITHESON 
 
tihvavy of Che theological ^tminavy 
 
 PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY 
 
 •a^D- 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 The estate of the 
 R^v. John B. Wie dinger 
 
 BV 4638 .M39 1908 
 Matheson, George, 1842-1906 
 Messages of hope 
 
t ^x ^^^^^^-;;4^/p^ ^^'yU^e^ L^Ct^^^ 
 
 
 y 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
BY GEORGE MATHESO N, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 REPRESENTATIVE MEN OF THE BIBLE 
 SERIES 
 
 In four volumes, crown octavo, cloth. 
 Each volume complete in itself. 
 
 Vol, I, Comprising Adam, Enoch, Abraham, 
 Isaac, Moses, Samuel, Da vid, Elijah, etc, $1, 75, 
 
 "As a poetical expositor of Biblical themes, Dr. Math- 
 eson is unsurpassed. His ' Enoch the Immortal,' 'Abraham 
 the Cosmopolitan,' ' Isaac the Domesticated,' and others 
 in his gallery of statues serve as lay figures for an In- 
 vestiture of thought, philosophic, religious, original, of 
 which all must acknowledge the charm."— T7ie Outlook. 
 
 Vol. 11, Comprising Ishmael, Aaron, Jonathan, 
 Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, etc, $1,75, 
 
 •* We doubt whether there is now In print a more 
 beautiful and suggestive series of biographical studies 
 of the familiar heroes of Old Testament times."— T/ie 
 Northwestern Christian Advocate. 
 
 Vol, 111, Representative Men of the New Testa" 
 * ment. Net, $1,50. 
 
 Vol, IV, Representative Women of the Bible, 
 
 with this volume is concluded the widely read series, 
 and this book does for the women of the Bible what 
 "Representative Men of the Bible " did for the opposite 
 type of human activity. Net, $1.50. 
 
 STUDIES OF THE PORTRAIT OF CHRIST. 
 Complete In two crown octavo volumes. $3,50, 
 
 Volume Iln 11th Thousand. Volume 11 in 6th Thousand. 
 Separately. Per volume, $1.75. 
 
 " Certainly no more original study of the life of Christ 
 has appeared since 'Ecce Homo.' "—The Boohtnan, 
 
 RESTS BY THE RIVER. 
 A new and charming devotional book by the famous 
 poet preacher of Edinburgh; his last work. Uniform 
 with "Leaves for Quiet Hours." 
 
 Cloth, gilt top, featherweight paper, net $1.25. 
 
 LEAVES FOR QUIET HOURS. 
 12 mo, featherweight paper, gilt top, cloth, $1,25, 
 Dr. Matheson concludes his preface: "A devotional 
 book Is supposed to be a very simple thing. It ought to 
 be the most difficult composition in the world, for it 
 should aim at the marriage of qualities which are com* 
 monly supposed to be antagonistic — the insight of the 
 thinker and the fervor of the worshipper. My own con- 
 viction has Increasingly been that the hours of our deepest 
 devotion are precisely in these moments when we catch 
 fresh glimpses of hidden things." 
 
 MOMENTS ON THE MOUNT. A Series of 
 
 Devotional Meditations. Cloth, $1.25, 
 VOICES OF THE SPIRIT. Cloth, $1.25, 
 THOUGHTS FOE LIFE'S JOURNEY, Cloth, Net $1.25. 
 MLESSAGES OF HOPE, Cloth. Net $1.25. 
 
MESSAGES OF H< 
 
 Of PK/A^ 
 
 ;8 
 
 GEORGE MATHESON 
 
 D.D.. LL.D.. F.R.SE. 
 
 cio 
 
 k 
 
 op 
 
 Author of 
 
 •^THOUGHTS FOR. LIFE'S JOURNEY** 
 ^LEAVES FOR. QUIET HOURiS* 
 
 cAo 
 
 NEW YORK 
 Qv^Q A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON O^KO 
 
 Y^ 3 and 5 WEST EIGHTEENTH STREET, Y 
 
 1908 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 Some ten or twelve of the brief treatises 
 embodied in this book have already appeared in 
 the pages of The Christian World. The remainder, 
 on the author's death, existed only in the blind- 
 type characters which constituted his own peculiar 
 ** Braille." His secretary, however, has contrived 
 to render this MS. into ordinary copy, word for 
 word; and, at the publishers' request, the dis- 
 courses are here offered in collective form. They 
 represent some of the ripest fruit of the author's 
 intellect, as they are largely the product of his 
 latest hours ; should any one " Message " bring 
 " Hope " to the weary and heavy-laden, George 
 Matheson's latest labours will not have been in 
 vain. 
 
 W. S. 
 
 Edinburgh, igo8. 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 The Anniversaries Kept in Heaven 
 
 " The Lord shall count, when He writeth up the people, that 
 this man was born in Zion." — Ps. lxxxvii. 6. 
 
 I UNDERSTAND the meaning of the passage to 
 be that the anniversaries of the future will be 
 held for the righteous. We observe at present 
 the anniversaries of the intellectually great — of 
 the poet, of the statesman, of the distinguished 
 general, of the scientific discoverer. But, without 
 disparaging these, the psalmist looks forward to a 
 time when the birthdays observed will be on the 
 ground of goodness. We hold the natal days of 
 the heroes of history. What a surprise it would 
 create if it were to be announced that a com- 
 memorative service was to be held to keep the 
 centenary of some humble woman historically 
 unknown ! And yet, it is not too much to say 
 that in the large majority of cases the distinguished 
 have been indebted to the unknown. Many a 
 man who has had his theatre in the world has had 
 
 7 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 his metropolis in the nursery; the crucial hours 
 of his life have been the hours the world never 
 saw — the hours spent at a mother's knee and 
 brightened by a mother's teaching. Many a great 
 thinker has got his wisdom from some obscure 
 schoolmaster " never heard of half-a-mile from 
 home " — from one who had all the thought in his 
 soul but just lacked the gift of expression. Many 
 a successful candidate for life's favour has owed 
 his power of endurance to the cheering words of 
 some optimistic Christian who met him at a time 
 of despondency and prevented him from giving in. 
 Many a toiling wrestler for the cure of human 
 disease was first taught to love humanity by 
 witnessing the holy patience of some humble 
 sufferer who bore without repining, who was 
 afflicted and murmured not, who carried the cross 
 and made no sign. The man who has reached 
 the top of the mountain has been stimulated by 
 the cry, " Excelsior " ; but it has been oftener the 
 voice of another than of himself. It has come 
 from the valley, from the place of the lowly, from 
 the scene of the undistinguished. The deeds of 
 silent sacrifice, the homes of humble piety, the 
 acts of covert kindness, the words of unrecorded 
 righteousness, the examples of unpubfished purity 
 — these have been the sources of human greatness. 
 
 8 
 
THE ANNIVERSARIES KEPT IN HEAVEN 
 
 Lord, Thou hast in Thy future a place for all 
 souls; but Thy monuments are for the men of 
 Zion— the sons of sacrifice. Thou hast a crown 
 for each sphere of successful toil ; but Thine 
 anniversaries will be given to the sowers of the 
 seed. We of the present world uncover our 
 heads to the flowers in their bloom and the trees 
 in their foliage. But the bloom was not the 
 beginning of the flowers ; the foliage was not the 
 beginning of the trees. The beginning of both 
 was underground — in a lonely place, a silent place, 
 an unseen place. It is on these lonely and silent 
 and unseen places that Thine eye resteth ; it is 
 there Thou lookest for the birthdays of the great, 
 I often say in despair, " Is my humble life worth 
 a future world ; what have I done for the making 
 of this ? " Teach me, O Lord, the fallacy of my 
 thought ; show me that the sphere of the humble 
 is ever the sphere where worlds are made ! 
 Reveal to me the future majesty of things that 
 now seem poor ! I would see, not the crown, but 
 the cradle, of empire — not the blossom, but the 
 bud, of dominion. I would see Shakespeare in the 
 shell, Newton in the nursery. Bacon in the 
 swaddling bands. Homer at the hearth, Dante in 
 the day-school, Milton at the family meal, Goethe 
 at his games, Plato in the pastimes of his youth. 
 
 9 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE \ 
 
 ] 
 
 Show me the moulders of their early moments — j 
 
 the counsellors of their conduct, the framers of ^ 
 
 their faith, the architects of their aspiration, the 
 trainers of their tuition, the directors of their ; 
 
 desires, the partners in their pleasures, the leaders 
 of their leisure hours ! Then shall I know why it 
 is that Thy birthdays for the race are those of j 
 
 the men born in Zion. ^ 
 
 " i 
 
The Grief that implies Glory 
 
 •' He began to teach them, that the Son of Man must suffer 
 many things." — Mark viii. 31. 
 
 "He began to teach them." It was indeed the 
 beginning of a new lesson for humanity. The old 
 lesson for humanity had been that a " Son of 
 Man " must suffer nothing — that the higher the 
 life the more exempt should it be from pain. 
 That belief was embedded deep in the heart both 
 of Gentile and Jew. The Gentile deified massive 
 strength — strength on which the woes of the 
 world could make no impression and which was 
 incapable of tears. The Jew exalted the sons of 
 the morning — the men who basked in fortune's 
 radiant smile ; he deemed that the most dowered 
 must be to God the dearest. Christianity began 
 to paint a fresh ideal of humanity — an opposite 
 ideal. It said that the test of a man's height was 
 not his inabiHty, but his capacity, to feel. " The 
 Son of Man must suffer many things." It is not 
 merely that He may, but that He must. Suffer- 
 ing is involved in the fact that He is the Son of 
 
 II 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Man — that He is at the top of the hill. If He 
 were lower down, He would be protected. The 
 very elevation of His person has put Him in 
 collision with the full sweep of the blast and the 
 full coldness of the air. Remember, that was the 
 very source of Christ's temptation in the wilder- 
 ness. The tempter said : "If you are the Son of 
 Man, you ought to enjoy yourself. You should 
 have no want of bread, no fear of precipices, no 
 dread of the kingdoms of the world and their 
 glory ; you should live sumptuously, walk reck- 
 lessly, reign despotically." Christ reverses all 
 this. He says it is just because He is Son of Man 
 that He is bound to suffer — to feel as a personal 
 hunger the world's want of bread, to experience as 
 a personal fear the world's danger of falling, to 
 share as a personal burden the world's subjection 
 to human tyrannies. And though He stands at 
 the top, the principle is in measure true for those 
 who are climbing. There is a suffering which the 
 good alone can know. There is a furnace which 
 is only heated for the man of God, a den of lions 
 which only awaits the holy. Not every eye can 
 weep over Jerusalem — that is a Divine gift of 
 tears. Men said of Jesus, " Let God deliver him 
 if he delighted in him ! " — if he is good, why is 
 he so burdened ! Had He been less good He 
 
 12 
 
THE GRIEF THAT IMPLIES GLORY 
 
 would have been less burdened. His purity made 
 His pain; His tenderness made His tears; His 
 selflessness made His sorrow ; His righteousness 
 made Him restless; His lustre made Him lonely; 
 His kindness made Him kinless ; His crown 
 made His cross. It was because He was the Son 
 of Man He had not where to lay His head. 
 
 Lord, Thy pain can cure all other pain ; let me 
 enter into its secret ! There is no homoeopathy in 
 all the world like this by which Thy sorrow 
 conquers mine. Nothing but unselfish grief can 
 banish my selfish care. Joy cannot ; care would 
 corrupt it in an hour. Beauty cannot ; life's dust 
 would dim it in a day. Fame cannot ; the weary 
 heart would wither it in a night. Wealth cannot ; 
 the strength of conscious toil would steal it from 
 my soul. But, if I could get the Divine homoeo- 
 pathy, I should be cured. Thou canst bestow it, 
 O my God. Give me a new care, and the old 
 will die. Send me Thy weight, and I shall have 
 wings. Give me Thy cross, and I shall be 
 crowned. Let me hear the sigh of the weary, 
 and mine will be silent. Let me lift the load of 
 the poor, and mine will be lightened. Let me 
 carry the burden of the weak, and mine will be 
 banished. Let me listen to the murmurs of the 
 sick, and mine will be mute. Let me aid the task 
 
 13 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 of the toiling, and mine will be tearless. Let me 
 touch the hand of the leper, and mine will be 
 healed. Let me help the feet of the lame, and 
 mine will be flying. Let me arrest the falls of 
 the tempted, and mine will be few. May the 
 pain of the Son of Man be my panacea for pain I 
 
 H 
 
The Necessity of Faith to Morality 
 
 •* The just shall live by his faith." — Habakkuk ii. 4. 
 
 Is not this a singular statement. Is not the 
 just man — the man of practical morality — the last 
 man in the world whom we should expect to live 
 by his faith. There are classes of men whom we 
 should expect to live by their faith. The poet 
 lives by his faith, for he aspires after an unearthly 
 ideal. The painter lives by his faith, for there 
 floats before him a superhuman beauty. The 
 musician lives by his faith, for his inner ear 
 catches melodies which his instruments cannot 
 express. Even the husbandman lives by his faith, 
 for he commits the seed to a life underground. 
 But the just man — the man of practical morality 
 — how can he be said to live by his faith ! Is he 
 not building his trust upon definite outward acts, 
 on obedience to a command ? Yes, but whose 
 command ? To a command which is inaudible to 
 the outer ear. The voice of conscience is not 
 uttered by anything within the world. It is not 
 
 15 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 uttered by beauty ; you may gaze on the woods 
 and fields without hearing it. It is not uttered by 
 prudence ; 3'ou may study your own interests for 
 days without meeting it. It is not uttered by 
 law ; you may be condemned by a criminal court 
 without receiving its message. This mysterious 
 voice is independent of places and times. It 
 comes at the most unUkely moment; it fails to 
 come at the most likely. It may be absent during 
 the most solemn religious service ; it may be heard 
 in the whirl of the dance and in the vortex of gay 
 society. The Garden of Eden may be deaf to it ; 
 the haunts of corruption may ring with it. It may 
 elude the thunder, the earthquake, and the fire ; 
 it may breathe in the still small sound of a human 
 word. The stars of night may fail to declare it ; 
 the streets of the garish day may resound with its 
 solemn refrain. The man who listens to it is 
 walking by faith. It has no mandate from the 
 world ; it has no reward from the world ; it has no 
 promise from the world. It is a message from an 
 unearthly sphere sent for an unearthly reason 
 and accompanied by the offer of an unearthly 
 recompense. No poet or painter or musician 
 lives more by faith than the man of outward 
 virtue. 
 
 O Thou Voice Divine, whose walking is not 
 16 
 
THE NECESSITY OF FAITH TO MORALITY 
 
 limited to the cool of the day, come into my 
 active hours ! Come where the clouds are 
 gathering, where the wheels of commerce roll ! 
 Often does the tempter meet me there. He 
 promises the kingdoms and their glory if I will do 
 an unjust thing. If I look only to human motives, 
 I shall follow the tempter. But my justice can 
 live by faith. Support me, O Lord, by con- 
 siderations that are not seen below ! Come where 
 competitors are thronging, where rival claims 
 appear ! Often does the tempter meet me there. 
 He says, " Detract from your rival, and you shall 
 win ; throw mire on his garment, and your own 
 will shine." And if I walked by sight, I might 
 well do so. But give me faith to look beyond the 
 eye, to know that man liveth not by bread alone ! 
 Come where the gay are mustering, where society 
 selects the strongest for the race ! Often does the 
 tempter meet me there. He says, " Attach your- 
 self to the highest, keep close to the men of 
 power, avoid all contact with the broken lives." 
 And the flesh would counsel me to obey. But, in 
 such an hour, let faith speak to me ! Show me 
 the beauties of the broken ! Teach me the possi- 
 bilities of the poor ! Tell me Thy hopes for the 
 heavy-laden ! Send me Thy sigh for the sad ! 
 Point me to the unseen glory — the gold covered 
 
 17 B 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 by the fading grass, the clearness behind the cloud, 
 the mighty destiny concealed in momentary dust ! 
 Then shall I give a hand to the rejected masses ; 
 for the charity killed by sight shall live by the 
 power of faith. 
 
 z8 
 
The Source of Christian Firmness 
 
 "Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might."— 
 Eph. VI. 10. 
 
 "The power of the might of Jesus" — what a 
 phrase to break upon the ears of the Roman 
 empire ! ** Be strong in the Lord " — it must 
 have seemed the wildest of paradoxes ! To the 
 eye of that Roman world the Lord of the Chris- 
 tians was anything but strong. A man of lowly 
 mien, a man of gentleness, a man that did not 
 strive nor cry, a man that gave his cheek to the 
 smiters and when he was reviled reviled not again 
 — it was the last image which we should expect to 
 convey to Paul's contemporaries the idea of 
 strength. It must have sounded to them like 
 speaking of a square circle. We could understand 
 the apostle saying, " Be meek in the Lord," " Be 
 patient in the Lord," "Be peaceable in the 
 Lord"; but to point men to Jesus as a specimen 
 of Roman strength — that was strange. Yet the 
 instinct which prompted it was profoundly true. 
 I have no hesitation in saying that the quality of 
 
 19 B 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Christ's strength was Roman, for its essential 
 feature was tenacity of will. But the strange 
 thing is that it came to Him by an opposite pro- 
 cess from that by which it reached the Roman. 
 It reached the Roman by a suppression of gentle 
 feelings ; it reached the Son of Man by a waking 
 of gentle feelings. The tenacity of Christ's will 
 came from the very fact that His heart was 
 melting with love. The robust and the senti- 
 mental are usually considered opposites ; but it is 
 a mistake. Nothing produces a will of iron like a 
 heart of wax ; it is gentleness that makes you great. 
 When does the will assume its iron tenacity ? It 
 is when the mind is softened by a deep affection. 
 Youth is said to be more unsteady than manhood, 
 more wavering in resolution, more prone to be 
 tempted. I believe this to be true ; but why is it 
 so ? Not because youth is hotter, but because 
 youth has fewer softening ties. When love comes, 
 when home comes, when fatherhood comes, when 
 the load of responsibilities is laid upon the heart, 
 then it is that the will becomes steadfast, then it 
 is that determination has the strength of brass. 
 That is the strength of the Lord. It is firmness 
 grounded on feeling ; it is bravery created by 
 burden ; it is will stiffened by weightedness. Paul 
 might well say, " Wherein I am weak there I am 
 
 20 
 
THE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN FIRMNESS 
 
 Strong " ; for it is the softening influences of 
 humanity that make us undaunted and it is the 
 melting tenderness of love that gives us power to 
 bear. 
 
 O Thou whose nature and whose name is Love, 
 come into my heart that I may be strong ! With- 
 out Thee in my soul the forces of life outmaster 
 me. I fall before the wind of temptation, I sink 
 beneath the sea of difficulty. I need Roman 
 strength, but no Roman method will give it me. 
 I can only get Roman strength by the method 
 un-Roman — by the softening of the heart to my 
 brother's cry. Therefore I beseech Thee to melt 
 the ice in my soul, that the river of Thy pleasures 
 may flow there. I have read that Samson's 
 enemies sought to deprive him of strength by 
 binding him. But Thy strength only comes to me 
 when I am bound. It is only when I am encom- 
 passed by the ties of life that I am really strong. 
 Bind me, O my God ! Encircle me with many 
 bonds ! Put on love's golden fetters ! Surround 
 me with a chain of human responsibilities ! Let 
 me guard my life more bravely by the sense that 
 it is not free ! In the hour of temptation let me 
 remember that I am not my own ! Let me 
 remember the lives that lean upon me ! Let 
 me remember a father's cares and a mother's 
 
 21 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 prayers ! Let me remember the children that cry 
 for bread, whose future I can make or mar ! Let 
 me remember that my night may cloud a brother's 
 morning, my fall evoke a sister's tears, my blot 
 efface a bridal bloom ! Let me remember, above 
 all, that I am bound to outside souls — that my 
 deed of shame must make humanity poorer, that 
 the tarnish on my hand must dim a hundred 
 hearts! The memory of my ties will make 
 resistance strong ; I shall learn in love the power 
 of Thy might. 
 
 22 
 
The Use of Isolated Moments 
 
 "No man shall come up with thee.**— Ex. xxxiv. y 
 
 Here was a Divine call to solitude. I should 
 have missed something in the Bible if this one 
 clause had been left out of it. It abounds in calls 
 of another sort — exhortations to join the brother- 
 hood of men. It has calls to the ministry, calls to 
 the mission field, calls to v^^ork, calls to domestic 
 duty, calls to public hfe. But there are moments 
 of many souls in which they are doomed to be 
 alone — to have no man with them. The inspira- 
 tions of genius are such moments ; the voices of 
 the crowd then sound from afar. The throbs of 
 conscience are such moments; the heart then 
 speaks to itself alone. The arrests by sickness 
 are such moments ; we feel shunted from the 
 common way. The approaches of death are such 
 moments ; the hour comes to all, but it comes 
 separately to each. We should have missed some- 
 thing from the Bible if amid the many voices of 
 God there had been no place found for such 
 moments as these. But with this verse of Exodus 
 
 23 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 before us, the want is supplied. I learn that my 
 times of solitude as well as my days of crowded- 
 ness are a mission from the Divine. There is a 
 lesson which my soul can only get from solitude ; 
 it is the majesty of the individual. Society tells 
 me I am only a cipher — an insignificant drop in a 
 mighty stream. But when I am alone, when the 
 curtain is fallen on my brother man, when there 
 seems in the universe but God and I, it is then I 
 know what it is to be an individual soul ; it is then 
 that there breaks on me the awful solemnity, the 
 dread responsibility, the sublime weightedness, 
 of having a personal life. Therefore it is that 
 betimes my Father summons me into the solitude. 
 Therefore it is that betimes He calls me up to the 
 lonely mount and cries, ** Let no man come with 
 thee." Therefore it is that betimes He shuts the 
 door on my companionships, and bars the windows 
 to the street, and deafens the ear to the world's 
 roar. He would have me see myself by His light, 
 measure myself by His standard, know myself 
 even as I am kno^n. 
 
 I thank Thee, O Lord, that Thou hast con- 
 secrated my solitary moments. They have 
 always been part of my life, but I looked on 
 them as useless to Thee. I never really thought 
 them a portion of Thy training till I heard Thy 
 24 
 
THE USE OF ISOLATED MOMENTS 
 
 voice calling to Moses, "No man shall come up 
 with thee." But then it all broke on me; and, 
 ever since, my isolated moments have been radiant. 
 I can never again deem them outside Thy plan. 
 Often, when my strength was weakened in the 
 way and I lay prostrate on the bed of pain, I 
 used to say, " God has no longer a place for me ; 
 my work for Him is over." It never dawned on 
 me that there might be a command to silence as 
 well as to speech. But when I heard that voice 
 of Thine to Moses, my wilderness blossomed as 
 the rose. I ceased to say that my service of Thee 
 had been interrupted. It had not been inter- 
 rupted. My bed of pain was in the one room 
 which had a mirror; it was there I first saw 
 myself, I had seen my brother a hundred times ; 
 I had stood amid the crowd and beheld the world 
 sweep on. But, just because there were myriads, 
 there was no mirror; just because there was rush, 
 there was no reflection. There is a stream in 
 whose waters no one sees himself — the stream of 
 fashion. I found no mirror till I reached the 
 silent room and heard Thee shut the door upon 
 the busy throng. And then, in that secluded 
 hour, I met my inmost soul. I saw my image 
 face to face because I was alone. I thought it 
 was not mine ; I tried to disown it. I wrestled 
 
 25 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 with it in the silent room ; I sought to make it 
 call itself by another name. But it would not. 
 It said, " I am thyself — thy sinful self, thine 
 unworthy self." I had never seen my image at 
 the daybreak, for conscience is killed by the 
 crowd ; but the speechless hour of night made it 
 visible, and the shrunk sinew proved that it was 
 mine. I bless Thee for the time in which Thou 
 saidst, " No man shall come up with thee." 
 
 26 
 
The Season for Divine Help 
 
 "Jacob went on his way, and the angels of God met him."— 
 Gen. XXXII. i. 
 
 The important word here, as I think, is the 
 word " met." It is distinctly implied that no 
 supernatural help came to Jacob at the beginning. 
 He went out on his own way and on the strength 
 of his own resources ; it was only in the middle of 
 his journey that he encountered the angels of 
 God. And I believe this is typical of the hfe of 
 every man. We are most of us under a mistake 
 on this point. We often see young people waiting 
 for a special call to some mission — for a manifest 
 intervention of God that says, ** This is the way ; 
 walk ye in it." I would tell such that the special 
 call does not come at the outset ; they must start 
 without it. There is a great difference between 
 not having a special call to go and having a 
 special call not to go. The latter case is a very 
 common one, and it should certainly be taken as 
 a prohibition. Many a man has a family depen- 
 dent on him for bread. Many a woman has an 
 
 27 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 aged mother to nurse. Many a youth has an 
 ancestral taint of delicacy which incapacitates for 
 active service. All these hear a voice which says, 
 ** Do not work to-day in my vineyard." But some- 
 times a man has no prohibition, but simply an 
 inability to see the full length of the way. In 
 extreme youth I was offered in a crowded town an 
 appointment which involved weekly preaching at 
 two services. I had only twelve sermons, and I 
 did not see where the thirteenth was to come 
 from. I was tempted to decline. But I asked 
 myself the question, "Are you adequate to the 
 twelve?" and I answered, "Yes." Then I said to 
 myself: " God's presence will not reveal itself till 
 your own power is exhausted. He has given you 
 twelve talents to begin with. Do not bury them, 
 do not lay them up in a napkin ; go in your own 
 strength as far as you can ; and on the way He 
 will meet you and light your torch anew." The 
 experience was abundantly realised — but I turn 
 aside from the personal. The principle is as true 
 to you. If there is a multitude to be fed in the 
 wilderness, it is no proof of your disqualification 
 that you have only five loaves. You have five ; 
 and that is your call to a beginning. You have 
 probably material for ten people. Minister to the 
 ten ! Do not let the eleventh frighten you before- 
 28 
 
THE SEASON FOR DIVINE HELP 
 
 hand ! Take each case as it comes ! Break the 
 bread as far as it will go ! Refuse to paralyse 
 yourself by looking forward ! Keep the eleventh 
 man in abeyance until you have come up to him ; 
 and then the angels will meet you with their 
 twelve baskets, and the crowd will greet you with 
 their blessings, and the limit will expand into an 
 overflow. 
 
 Lord, free me from the dread of to-morrow ! 
 I have often heard it said of a man, ** He sank 
 beneath the burden and heat of the day." I do 
 not think that is the real experience of life. I 
 have never found insupportable the burden and 
 heat of the day ; Thou hast never made that too 
 strong for any man. No, my Father, it is the 
 burden and heat of to-morrow that overwhelm the 
 traveller. Not by the load of present weights but 
 by the sense of weights to come, do we fall. There 
 are not more drops in my Gethsemane cup than I 
 can bear ; but in looking into that cup I see the 
 shadow of something which seems 7^?ibearable — 
 to-morrow. I would say with reverence, ** Father, 
 let every cup pass from me except the cup of each 
 hour ! " Veil from me the vision of to-morrow's 
 fear ; nay, let me myself veil it ! Let me refuse 
 to look at it until the hour has come ! Let me 
 decline to measure my strength with a day which 
 
 29 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 has not dawned! I can measure my strength 
 with yesterday, for yesterday is past and my 
 strength for it is chronicled. But my strength 
 for to-morrow is as much in the future as 
 to-morrow itself; it does not yet appear what it 
 shall be. Let me wait for it, O Lord ! Let me 
 close the shutters against the threatened cloud ! 
 Men tell me that in the midst of the way I shall 
 meet the storm and the roar and the battle ; but 
 they forget that in the midst of the way I shall 
 meet also Thy ministering angels. 
 
 30 
 
Christian Manliness 
 
 "Quit you like men." — i Cor. xvi. 13. 
 
 At first sight we might say that these words 
 were spoken to the Christian adult. That is not 
 my view. To whom are we in the habit of saying, 
 ** Quit you like men " ? Is it to grown-up people ? 
 No, it is to children. Our stimulus is always the 
 stage beyond us. The Boys' Brigade is an imitation 
 of the Man's Brigade and would have no interest 
 on any other footing. The girl's doll is an imita- 
 tion of the woman's child and would have no 
 charm on any other basis. The very games of 
 childhood are intended to represent the competitive 
 struggles in the game of life. It is to mental 
 children that Paul means to speak when he says, 
 " Quit you like men." But it is to be feared that 
 a child's idea of a man is a very mistaken one. It 
 often looks forward with pleasure to the prospect 
 of " grown-up-ness," but it is on the ground that 
 the stage of manhood will be a stage of increased 
 independence. "When I am grown up, I shall do 
 
 31 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 as I like," is the utterance of many a child. Yet 
 the actual process is exactly in the reverse ratio. 
 I have no hesitation in saying that the man differs 
 from the child precisely in the fact that he has less 
 power than the child of doing what he likes. The 
 child receives many prohibitions, but they are 
 nearly all from the outside ; the man has fewer 
 prohibitions from the outside, but he has many 
 more from within. The advance from childhood 
 to manhood is an advance from less to greater 
 dependence, from a will more free to a will more 
 circumscribed and bounded. The boy has less 
 restraint than the man. A hundred voices tempt 
 young Adam to the forbidden fruit which to the 
 mature mind cry, "Thou shalt not." Young 
 Adam feels free when he has hid himself among 
 the trees of the garden. But the mature mind 
 does not feel liberated by the overshadowing trees ; 
 he has restraint from within. Conscience cries 
 " No " ; principle cries " No " ; prudence cries 
 "No"; love cries "No"; common interest cries 
 " No." It is the man and not the child that is 
 boiyid by the cherubim and flaming sword. The 
 manliest will is the will that is least free. Child- 
 hood leaps through the plots of paradise and 
 crushes them as it goes ; manhood tries to do the 
 same, but the ties of myriad hearts impede the 
 32 
 
CHRISTIAN MANLINESS 
 
 wayward limbs and say to the mature spirit, *' We 
 will not let thee go." 
 
 Son of Man, Thou who hast come to tell our 
 human childhood what it is to be full-grown, help 
 us to gaze on Thee ! Help us to look on Thee till 
 we are changed into the same image ! We should 
 like, we children of time, to be impregnated with 
 the belief that the object of being full-grown is not 
 to do what one likes but to learn the bending of 
 the will. -We should like to be inspired with the 
 thought that the highest standard of manhood is 
 not empire but service, not independence but 
 brotherhood, not self-will but self-surrender. 
 That is Thine image, O Son of Man ; let me grow 
 up to Thee ! Destroy my childhood's ideal of a 
 false manhood ! Destroy my admiration of self- 
 will ! — Thy mission was to do the will of Thy 
 Father. Destroy my admiration of masterfulness ! 
 — Thy mission was to minister. Destroy my 
 admiration of those who say, " I do not care " ! — 
 on Thee were the cares of a world. Destroy my 
 admiration of an immovable heart ! — Thou hast 
 wept over Jerusalem and over Bethany. Destroy 
 my admiration of solitary grandeur ! — Thou hast 
 prayed that all may be one with Thyself. Teach 
 me the manliness of ministration, the heroism of 
 helpfulness, the sovereignty of serving, the lordship 
 
 33 c 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 of loneliness, the kinghood of compassion, the j 
 strength of stooping, the sceptre of unselfishness, 
 
 the crown of crucifixion, the empire expressed in ■ 
 
 the epitaph, " He saved others ; himself he j 
 
 cannot save 1 " Then shall I know what it is to j 
 
 be a man. ! 
 
 34 
 
The Lesson of Siloam 
 
 " He anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay and 
 said, Go, wash in the pool of Siloam. He went his way there- 
 fore, and washed, and came seeing." — John ix. 6, 7. 
 
 Even in the unique Gospel of Christ the cure 
 of this blind man is a unique thing. There is to 
 my mind a peculiarity about it which separates it 
 from every other work of Jesus. The singular 
 feature is not the anointing of the eyes with clay, 
 for the clay was after all administered by the 
 Master's hand. But the remarkable thing is that 
 Jesus sends the man away from Himself to be 
 cured, ** Go, wash in the pool of Siloam." It is 
 not in coming from the hands of Jesus but in 
 coming from the waters of Siloam that the scales 
 fall from his eyes. The waters of Siloam had 
 nothing to do with it; yet Christ wishes these 
 earthly fountains to get the credit of His own 
 work. It is not the use of means that strikes us, 
 but the fact that the means are employed by a 
 subordinate agency which has no immediate con- 
 tact with the Great Healer. Why did Christ on 
 this occasion credit another agency with His own 
 work ? I think it was to tell the world that His 
 
 35 c 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 cures should in future be committed to common- 
 place influences. Remember, this was His last 
 miraculous healing of disease. Could anything 
 be more appropriate than to indicate the point of 
 transition to the new era ! Was it not equivalent 
 to saying, ** In future my work for you will be 
 taken by the ophthalmist; learn to see in the 
 ophthalmist a power which I have ordained " ! 
 Our Lord wishes us to feel that it is by His 
 sending, by His design, by His Gospel, that 
 secular streams have acquired their healing 
 strength. His latest cure of disease is a transition 
 from grace to nature. *' Go, wash in the pool of 
 Siloam ; use at my command the materials which 
 earth provides. Hitherto I have healed with my 
 own hand ; henceforth I send to be healed. I send 
 dimmed eyes to the oculist, curtained ears to the 
 aurist, broken limbs to the surgeon, fevered pulses 
 to the infirmary, diseased organs to the hospital, 
 fading strength to the summer breezes. I commit 
 my feeding to the economist, my healing to the 
 physician, my cleansing to the pastor, my 
 enlightening to the schoolmaster, my charity to 
 the philanthropist, my fallen ones to the district 
 visitor, my care of children to the mothers in 
 Israel. This is the bequeathing of my last will 
 and testament." 
 
 36 
 
THE LESSON OF SILOAM 
 
 Lord, let me carry into modern life the symbol 
 of Thy latest cure 1 I have been sent from Thy 
 presence to the pool of Siloam — the stream of 
 natural forces. Never let me forget that it is Thy 
 sending ! Never any more let me call Siloam 
 secular ! All my modern springs of healing have 
 issued from Thee. It is to Thee I owe man's ever- 
 ripening anxiety for the welfare of the human 
 frame. Men nev^r nursed the body till they saw 
 it glorified in Thy resurrection light. Thou hast 
 magnified this house in which I dwell, and now it 
 is a glory to sweep its rooms. It is since Thy 
 coming that we have learned the art of mitigating 
 pain. It is Thou that hast lit the night-lamp of 
 the nursing home. It is Thou that hast brought 
 the uniform for the infirmary ward. It is Thou 
 that hast ensured shelter to the convalescent and 
 comfort to the incurable. It is Thou whose out- 
 stretched arms have suggested an abode for the 
 foundling. It is Thou that hast given us the 
 house of refuge for the destitute. It is Thou that 
 hast initiated our help to the superannuated and 
 the aged. It is Thou that hast opened our sym- 
 pathies to the toilworn and the weary. The pool 
 of Siloam had little water in it till the rain 
 descended from Thee ; our springs have been 
 nourished by the dayspring from on high. 
 
 37 
 
The Secret of Christ's Easter Glory 
 
 " Remember that Jesus Christ of the seed of David was raised 
 from the dead according to my gospel." — 2 Tim. ii. 8. 
 
 I THINK the meaning of this passage has been 
 lost from the want of italics. I take the emphatic 
 clause to be, " from the dead.'' All admitted that 
 Christ was ** raised " ; but there was a sect of 
 heretics who denied that He was raised from the 
 dead. Their theory was that at the foot of the 
 Cross the Divine Christ flew away and left only 
 the man Jesus to suffer. According to this view, 
 the Lord's triumph lay in cheating His enemies ; 
 they thought they were crucifying the Messiah, 
 whereas they were only crucifying the human life 
 to which the Messiah had united Himself. By 
 this theory these heretics thought they were 
 honouring the Master. It seemed a grander 
 thing to think that He had escaped dying than 
 that He had been raised from death. Paul differs 
 from them. He says, ** Your Gospel is not mine ; 
 according to my Gospel, Jesus Christ was raised, 
 not from the hour of peril, but from the grave 
 
 38 
 
THE SECRET OF CHRIST'S EASTER GLORY 
 
 itself, and His triumph was not the evading but 
 the vanquishing of death." Why does Paul deem 
 it a greater triumph in Christ to have risen from 
 the dead than to have escaped death ? He 
 would have answered, " Because the raising from 
 the grave made Him cease to be local — broke the 
 line of His earthly ancestry." He tells us that 
 Christ was born the son of David — the scion of the 
 royal race of a particular country. If the matter 
 had ended there, Paul would have regretted the 
 Hmitation. And he would have been right. If 
 Jesus had been raised to Heaven without dying, 
 He would have been to the world only the 
 representative of royal blood in one of the ancient 
 nations. But to rise from the dead was to be born 
 anew — born, no longer from the Jewish diadem, 
 but from the general dust. The life that came 
 forth on Easter Morning was not a life from the 
 seed of David. It had no more to do with David 
 than with Cyrus or Solon. It had broken the 
 connection with its past. Who shall declare its 
 generation ? Who shall say that it was descended 
 from the tribe of Judah or even from the stock of 
 Abraham ? It was not. It was neither Jewish 
 nor Greek nor Roman. It was a new life from 
 an unprecedented stem — a life even without virgin 
 mother — a life fresh from God. Partiality was 
 
 39 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 gone, nationality was gone, special Messiahship 
 was gone. Christ had become a cosmopolitan 
 possession, and the cosmopolitan Paul clapped 
 his hands. 
 
 And shall not I, too, rejoice, O Lord ! Shall I 
 not be glad that the resurrection life has broken 
 the limits of Thy birth-life ! No longer need I 
 think of Thee as a child of a royal earthly line ; 
 the breath with which Easter Morn inspired Thee 
 accepts no human lineage. No longer need I view 
 Thee as a son of Israel ; the breath with which 
 Easter Morn inspired Thee is above principalities 
 and powers. No longer need I look up to Thee 
 as the glorifier of a chosen people ; the breath 
 with which Easter Morn inspired Thee glorified 
 the common dust. Thy birth at Bethlehem 
 narrowed Thee; it swathed Thee in bands; it 
 made Thee the Messiah of a special race, the 
 reformer of a special time. But Thy birth on 
 Easter Morn released Thee ; it loosed Thy bonds ; 
 it set Thee free. No trammels of race enchained 
 Thy resurrection life. The line of David faded ; 
 the tribe of Judah faded ; the stock of Abraham 
 faded. Palestine vanished from our view ; temple 
 services were swept from our sight ; priest and 
 Levite met our gaze no more. Before Thee stood 
 man — man universal, man of all ages, man of all 
 40 
 
THE SECRET OF CHRIST'S EASTER GLORY 
 
 climes. The bells of Bethlehem called the 
 shepherds of Judah ; but the bells of Easter call 
 the sons of men. Thou art now neither Jew nor 
 Gentile; Thou art human. We hail Thee no 
 more as son of David but as Son of Man. We 
 crown Thee no more as Israel's Messiah but as 
 Humanity's Saviour. We worship Thee no more 
 as the ruler of the seed of Jacob but as the Judge 
 and Arbiter of the Kingdom of God. 
 
 41 
 
The Place for Christian Asceticism 
 
 " Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto 
 life." — Matt. vii. 14. 
 
 Is, then, the religious life narrow? Our Lord 
 does not say so ; He says exactly the reverse — 
 that it is only the entrance into it that is narrow. 
 I have seen a commodious vehicle with a very 
 narrow door ; when once you got in you could 
 travel with comfort over vast ground, but the 
 getting in was a little embarrassing. You 
 must not imagine that the straitenedness of 
 which our Lord speaks lies in the vehicle; 
 it lies outside the vehicle — in yourself. His 
 thought, as I take it, might be expressed thus : 
 " You are entering a chariot with boundless 
 capacities for travel. The one obstacle is the 
 getting in, and that obstacle lies in you. You 
 have something in your hand which prevents you 
 from finding the door wide enough ; it is a mirror 
 in which you see yourself reflected. You will 
 never get through the aperture along with your 
 mirror ; it is too narrow for both of you together. 
 Throw aside your self-reflector ; break it ; leave it 
 42 
 
THE PLACE FOR CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 
 
 in fragments on the causeway ; and, entering into 
 the chariot free from encumbrances, you will 
 journey over a limitless plain." That is in spirit 
 what I understand Christ to mean. His motive is 
 not the restraint but the enlargement of the soul. 
 He has provided for it a conveyance with immense 
 travelling powers; its name is Love, and its 
 synonym is not narrowness, but wideness. Unfortu- 
 nately, the soul has a mirror whose name is 
 Selfishness ; it dandles that mirror, it will not let 
 it go. But if the soul would enter the chariot it 
 must let the mirror go. The door is big enough 
 for itself alone, but not big enough for the accom- 
 paniment of its looking-glass. If it would enjoy 
 the chariot it must sacrifice the looking-glass. In 
 the interest of wide locomotion, in the interest of 
 extensive sight-seeing, in the interest of reaching 
 a road from which all barriers will be removed, 
 the mirror must be left behind. That must be 
 crucified which narrows me ; that must be sacri- 
 ficed which impedes me ; that must be amputated 
 which prevents me from soaring on the wing. 
 
 Thou, who art complaining of the restraints of 
 Christianity, I would ask you one question: To 
 whom are the flowers of life denied ? Is it to 
 thee ? No, it is to thy mirror. Thou lookest in the 
 glass and sayest to thine own image, " How grand it 
 
 43 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 would be to have the kingdoms of the world and 
 the glory of them ; how honoured thou wouldst 
 be, how lauded thou wouldst be, how attractive 
 thou wouldst be ; no other would be equal to 
 thyself in all the earth ! " And God says, " Thou 
 art asking the kingdoms for thy mirror — for thine 
 own glory ; that is sin, that is sacrilege ; thy gate 
 must be straitened, thy way must be narrowed." 
 Wherefore, my brother, does thy God so speak ? 
 Is it because the flowers would make thee wicked ? 
 Nay, it is because thou wouldst make the flowers 
 wicked. The egotism of thy touch would pollute 
 them. Wealth is not bad till it glorifies thy 
 mirror, till thou sayest with triumph, " I am 
 exalted above my fellows." God would fain 
 redeem thee from finding wealth a corruption. 
 God would make wealth to thee a good thing; He 
 would make thee fit to leave the desert and come 
 into the city. He would make possible to thee 
 the use of earthly gems. The world can be thine 
 when thou art Christ's — when thou lovest not self 
 but man. Are thy life-roses superior to those of 
 others ; view it not with triumph, but with pain ! 
 Rest not till thou hast shared thy roses ! Haste 
 to distribute thy gold ! Be eager to diffuse thy 
 treasures ! Let thy superiority oppress thee ! Let 
 thine exclusive privilege torture thee! Let thy 
 
 44 
 
THE PLACE FOR CHRISTIAN ASCETICISM 
 
 height above thy brother humble thee ! Let thy 
 larger share be a burden on thy heart and give 
 thee no sleep till thou hast equalised thy posses- 
 sion ! The world shall itself become thy Christian 
 chariot when thy mirror has been broken. 
 
 45 
 
The Heart's Obstruction to the Hearer 
 
 «' They hearkened not unto Moses for anguish of spirit, and 
 for cruel bondage." — Ex. vi. 9. 
 
 It is not always the fault of a preacher that his 
 message does not go home. We sometimes say 
 that a minister is speaking above the heads of his 
 audience ; if so, he is in error. But there is 
 another possibility of failure, and one for which 
 he is not to blame ; he may speak above the hearts 
 of his audience. His message may be as clear as 
 crystal, as eloquent as Demosthenes, and as 
 beautiful as ** the feet upon the mountains," and yet 
 it may fall utterly flat because the spirits of the 
 hearer are flat. This latter case is the case before 
 us. " They hearkened not unto Moses for 
 anguish of spirit, and for cruel bondage." There 
 never was a better preacher, there never was a 
 more joyous message ; but there was a weight at 
 the heart of the hearer. There was a stone at the 
 door of the sepulchre which prevented the voice 
 
 46 
 
THE HEART'S OBSTRUCTION TO THE HEARER 
 
 from penetrating inside. You will observe, there 
 were two impediments in the heart — a positive 
 and a negative barrier — a sense of anguish and a 
 sense of bondage. These often exist separately. 
 There are some who are the victims of a definite 
 sorrow ; they have a special cause of grief which 
 blocks the door of the heart and will let no 
 message of comfort enter in. There are others, 
 again, who, without being able to point to a 
 special sorrow, are simply conscious of a chain 
 about the spirit ; they have an oppression all 
 round, a nameless weight which will not let them 
 soar. I know not which is more deterrent to a 
 message — the anguish or the bondage — the 
 poignant grief in a single spot or the dull pain all 
 over. Either is incompatible with the hearing 
 of a Sermon on the Mount. 
 
 But how shall I get rid of these, O my Father ! 
 Can I say to my sad spirit, " Soul, take thine ease, 
 eat, drink, and be merry " ! I cannot. No human 
 heart in the days of its chaos can give the com- 
 mand to itself, " Let there be light ! " How, then, 
 shall I lift the stone from the door of the 
 sepulchre, that the angel of peace may enter in ! 
 Can I say it is summer when it is winter ! No, 
 my Father, Thou wouldst not have me say that. 
 But Thou wouldst have me forget, not the winter, 
 
 47 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 but my winter. Thou wouldst have me remember 
 that there are thousands Hke me, thousands feeling 
 the same anguish, thousands bearing the same 
 bondage. Thou wouldst not bid me ignore the 
 night, but Thou wouldst have me remember that 
 I watch not there alone. Is Peter weighted 
 in the Garden ; Thou wouldst have him call to 
 mind that James and John are also there. Thou 
 wouldst have him watch for one hour by the 
 burden of James and John. Thou wouldst have him 
 bury his own beneath the soil till he has returned 
 from his mission of sympathy. Thou wouldst 
 have him forget awhile the place where it was 
 lying. Instead of crying, "Who shall support me 
 now upon life's stormy sea ! " Thou wouldst have 
 him say, " Who now shall make James a son of 
 thunder! " — *' Who now shall pillow John upon a 
 bosom of rest ! " Then after the night watches 
 Thou wouldst have him go back to disinter his 
 burden. Thou wouldst have him turn up the 
 soil to uncover the spot of the burial. He will 
 cry, " My burden has been stolen in the night ; 
 the place where I laid it is vacant ; I left it here, 
 and it is here no more ; come, see the place 
 where my grief lay ! " So, my Father, shall he 
 find rest — rest in Thy love. Thy self-forgetfulness 
 will make him free. Thy Cross will crucify his 
 
 48 
 
THE HEARTHS OBSTRUCTION TO THE HEARER 
 
 pain. Thy burden will break his yoke. Thy 
 sorrow will still his complaining. He will lose his 
 own suffering in fellowship with Thine ; he whom 
 the Lamb leads to sympathetic fountains gets all 
 
 tears wiped from the eyes. 
 
 i 
 
 49 
 
The Significance of the Burial of Moses 
 
 " And God buried him in a valley of the land of Moab ; but no 
 man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day." — Deut. xxxiv. 6. 
 
 I HAVE often put to myself the question : 
 Suppose this fragment of the Bible had been lost, 
 should we drop any flower from the garland of 
 revelation ? I think we should. I think there is 
 one thing revealed here which is quite unique and 
 which is planted here alone ; I mean the fact that 
 there is such a thing as burial by God, Some of 
 the deepest distresses of bereavement come from 
 the denial of funeral rites. Where the body is 
 buried in the mine, where the body is engulfed in 
 the sea, where the body is stretched on the battle- 
 field indistinguishable amid the mutilated slain, 
 there is a deeper tone added to the heart's knell. 
 It is a note which Christianity has rather increased 
 than diminished, for the doctrine of resurrection 
 has consecrated the body and made its very dust 
 dear. To such a state of mind what comfort this 
 passage brings ! Here is an explorer lost in the 
 mountain snow. His friends know he is dead; 
 50 
 
THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE BURIAL OF MOSEb 
 
 and it adds to their pain that no human lips have 
 consecrated his dust. And to them there comes 
 this voice : Ye that weep for the unfound dead, ye 
 that lament the burial rites denied, know ye not 
 that there are graves which are consecrated by 
 God alone ! Where the prayer is breathed not, 
 where the Book is opened not, where the wreath 
 is planted not, where the human tear is shed not, 
 there may be a burial of unsullied solemnity — a 
 burial by the hand of your Father. There are 
 consecrated graves where priest never stood, 
 where mourner never knelt, where tear never 
 fell. There are spots hallowed by your Father 
 which to you are barren ground. God's acre is 
 larger than the churchyard. Out on yon bleak 
 hillside He wrapped your friend to rest in a mantle 
 of spotless snow. Is not that bleak hillside God's 
 acre evermore ! Is it not as holy to you as if you 
 had brought sweet spices to the tomb ! It has no 
 chant but the winds, no book but the solemn 
 silence, no bell but some wild bird's note, no 
 wreath but the wreath of snow ; yet there is no 
 more sacred spot in all the diocese of God. 
 
 My soul, hast thou pondered this picture of 
 God's care for the human dust ! There is no 
 brighter picture in the Bible. I have heard thee 
 ask, Where does the Old Testament teach 
 
 51 D 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 immortality? I have seen thee search the 
 records for traces of the resurrection life. Thou 
 hast stood beside the ascending Enoch. Thou 
 hast watched the disappearing Elijah. Thou hast 
 listened to the song of the psalmist, " Thou wilt 
 receive me into glory." Thou hast gazed upon 
 the spectre of the dead Samuel rising from the 
 grave to renovate the kingdom. But methinks 
 all these pale before one neglected incident — the 
 solicitude of the Father for the burial of a human 
 body. '^ God buried him." Thinkest thou He 
 would have cared for the inanimate clay if He 
 care not for thee ! Thinkest thou He would have 
 prepared a place for the casket if He had no place 
 for the gem ! Why should He hold the dust ot 
 Moses dear if He had obliterated his spirit! Why 
 cherish the garment if He had chilled the life ! 
 Why preserve the ring if He had pulverised the 
 hand ! Why water the ground if He had withered 
 the flower! Why keep the dwelling if He had 
 killed the tenant ! Why crown the lifeless form 
 if He had crushed the living man ! O my soul, 
 when Enoch grows pale to thy sight, when Elijah 
 fades from thine eyes, when the song of the 
 psalmist is faint in thine ear, when the image of 
 Samuel refuses to rise, come and attend the 
 funeral of Moses! 
 
 52 
 
The Necessity of Selflessness to Charity 
 
 " Thy righteousness shall go before thee ; the glory of the 
 Lord shall be thy rearward." — Isa. lviii. 8. 
 
 I THINK this passage has quite a different 
 meaning from another on which I have elsewhere 
 commented — "The God of Israel will be your 
 rearward." This latter passage signifies that God 
 will retrieve our past. But the words now before 
 us are to my mind not a promise but a command. 
 This whole chapter is an exhortation to charity. 
 The prophet is urging men to deeds of minis- 
 tration — to sympathy with the poor, compassion 
 for the sorrowful, help for the needy. He says 
 that such a life of sacrifice is of more value than 
 the keeping of sacred days or the attendance at 
 holy festivals. But he says that even this life of 
 sacrifice will have no value unless it is sought for 
 its own sake — that is to say, for the sake of the 
 sufferer. Let me try to paraphrase his words: 
 ** When you go out on your mission of charity, 
 take care that you are guided by only one motive 
 — the goodness of the cause. Let nothing be in 
 
 53 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 front of you but the righteousness of the act. It 
 is quite true that there will come to you an out- 
 ward recompense ; the glory of the Lord will 
 ultimately shine upon yourself. But take heed 
 that you keep that thought in the background. 
 Do not think of the glory with which God will 
 recompense you. Let that glory be to you in the 
 rear — a thing not before your eyes. Let the only, 
 thing before your eyes be the cause of righteous-' 
 ness, the duty to minister, the need to succour 
 man ; * Thy righteousness shall go before thee; the' 
 glory of the Lord shall be thy rearward.' " That 
 is what I understand the prophet to mean. In 
 the life for God there is an invitation to personal 
 sacrifice and there is a promise of personal glory. 
 But the prophet tells us to put the promise 
 behind our back until we have finished the sacri- 
 fice. He bids us forget the glory until we have 
 surrendered the life. He says : " There is joy in 
 heaven to a sacrificial soul ; but I would not have 
 that soul keep the joy of heaven before its eyes. 
 I would have it, when it serves the beggar, forget 
 the golden streets and the pearly gates and the 
 unsetting suns and the crystal rivers and the 
 living fountains. I would have it remember only 
 the claims of love. I would have it remember 
 only the cries of the perishing and the groans of 
 
 54 
 
THE NECESSITY OF SELFLESSNESS TO CHARITY 
 
 the wounded and the deep inarticulate longings of 
 those who are too feeble to cry; let the glory 
 of the Lord be my rearward." 
 
 Lord, often have I thought of these words of 
 Thine, ** Every valley shall be exalted and every 
 mountain shall be brought low, and the crooked 
 shall be made straight and the rough places plain, 
 and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed.'* 
 Strange has it seemed to me that the glory has 
 come so late. I have asked, Why didst Thou not 
 reveal it at the beginning ? If I had seen the 
 heavenly glory, would it not have helped me in 
 the levelling of the mountains, in the elevating of 
 the valleys, in the straightening of the crooked 
 and the smoothing of the rough ? — so I inquired 
 in the olden time. But now, my Father, it is all 
 clear to me. I see why Thou hast placed the 
 glory in the rear ; I see why Thou hast hid the 
 personal gain. If I had seen my gain, the labour 
 might have been accelerated ; but it would have 
 been less a labour of love. It would have been 
 prompted less by my brother's cry than by my 
 own crown. My hands would have moved to the 
 music of my own accompaniment, not to the 
 dirge of the needy. Thou hast hid the gold that 
 I may hear the groan. Thou hast veiled the sun 
 that I may catch the sigh. Thou hast hushed the 
 
 55 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 song that I may pierce the silence. Thou hast 
 clouded the brightness that I may lift the burden. 
 Thou hast withheld the plaudits that I may work 
 only for the poor. Thou hast dimmed my star 
 that I may face my brother's storm. Thou hast 
 concealed Thy throne of power that my heart's 
 motive may be the throb of pity. I thank Thee, 
 O Lord, that Thou hast placed Thy glory in the 
 rear. 
 
 56 
 
How to Register Believers 
 
 "With the heart man believeth unto righteousness."— 
 Romans x. io. 
 
 I HAVE often figured to myself the idea of an 
 ordained census of religious opinion ; it has at 
 times seemed to me an adequate means of arriving 
 at the present position of spiritual faith. But 
 there is one difficulty which has deeply struck me. 
 It is very easy to register the number of Church 
 members and their distribution among the different 
 Churches, because a man cannot both be and not 
 be the member of a Church at the same time. 
 But when you come to ask whether a man is 
 theist or agnostic, pietist or sceptic, believer or 
 doubter, it is a very difficult thing even for him- 
 self to answer. And the reason is that he may at 
 one and the same time be both the one and the 
 other. For, there are two roads to belief — the 
 intellect and the heart ; and many a man loses 
 his way by the former who finds it by the latter. 
 It is not alone of my belief in God that this is 
 true; it is as true of my belief in my brother. 
 
 57 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 There are people in this world known to me who 
 might be surrounded by a chain of circumstantial 
 evidence almost demonstrating crime and whom 
 my intellect could not clear, yet of whose stainless 
 integrity I should have no more doubt than of the 
 light of the sun at noonday. In any argument in 
 their favour I should have to own myself van- 
 quished; yet my conviction of their innocence 
 would remain without a cloud ; the street which 
 was a bhnd alley to the understanding would be 
 to the heart a road into green fields. So may it 
 be with your religion. Your understanding may 
 be in the night when your heart is in the noon. 
 Your intellect may be baffled by the clouds that 
 environ your God ; you may be numbered by the 
 world among the sceptics ; you may be counted 
 with those that have denied the faith. Yet, could 
 it enter the secret of your pavilion, that world 
 might find you on your knees — pouring forth 
 prayers with the simplicity of a little child. The 
 world would say, ** It is hypocrisy." It would be 
 wrong ; no man is a hypocrite before God. It is 
 a simpler, truer explanation that comforts us. 
 You have lost your way by one route and found 
 it by another. The star hid by the house-tops 
 has appeared again in the open. The Christ 
 whom you recognised not on the road has been 
 
 58 
 
HOW TO REGISTER BELIEVERS 
 
 made known to you at the evening meal. The 
 knot which reason could not untie has been 
 unwoven by the heart of love. 
 
 My brother, Paul says that God will judge thee 
 not by the former but by the latter belief, " With 
 the heart man believeth unto righteousness." Hast 
 thou pondered the comfort of these words. Men 
 ask thee if thou hast found Christ; and often 
 thou sayest No when the answer should be Yes. 
 Art thou one of the lost sheep? inquires the 
 world. What should thine answer be in such a 
 case as Paul suggests? Should it not be this. 
 *' I am a lost sheep on this road. I have never 
 been able to find my way in this direction. I 
 have always been landed in bewilderment, in fog, 
 in perplexity ; by the intellectual route I am ever 
 wandered. But there is another route by which 
 I always reach my goal — the route of the heart. 
 Whenever I get on that road the fog vanishes, 
 the perplexity disappears, and the towers of my 
 Father's palace rise gleaming in the sun. When 
 I am there, I am not a lost sheep any more. 
 Why must the census be taken when I am on the 
 way unsuited to me ! — it is only on that path I 
 have been numbered among the transgressors.'* 
 Yes, my brother, and Paul would take thy census 
 in another spot. He would have thee judged by 
 
 59 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 the heart. At the very moment when the world 
 says " Lost *' Paul cries ** Found." In the very 
 hour when the world deems thee wandered Paul 
 writes " Reached home." In the very instant 
 when the world inscribes on thee the title "A 
 pilgrim of the night," Paul numbers thee in the 
 book of life as " A son of the morning." 
 
 60 
 
The Response of the Environment 
 
 " When Israel went out of Egypt, the mountains skipped like 
 rams." — Ps. cxiv. i, 4. 
 
 It is said that man is affected by his environ- 
 ment. It is true ; but it is equally true that man's 
 environment is affected by him. We are influenced 
 by the sights and sounds around us ; but it is no 
 less certain that the sights and sounds around us 
 are influenced by us. In this passage we have an 
 incident of the latter kind. When Israel went 
 out of Egypt there was a change in her environ- 
 ment, ** The mountains skipped." She trans- 
 ferred to the things around her the impression of 
 her own joy. She was inwardly leaping and 
 dancing, and, as in a mirror, she saw the moun- 
 tains leaping and dancing too. Why the moun- 
 tains ? Why not the brooks, the streams, the 
 rivers ? Is not the idea of motion more suitable 
 to these ? Certainly ; therefore the psalmist, 
 because he was a poet, did not select them. He 
 selected the most unlikely things — the mountains. 
 The mountains naturally suggest anything but 
 
 61 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 dancing. They suggest immobility, steadfastness, 
 iron determination to be affected by nothing. 
 And that is just where the dramatic power of 
 this poet comes in. He sees the joy of the soul 
 infecting the most stolid objects in the world — 
 the sober, grave, serious mountains. If these 
 could be made to dance to the rhythm of the 
 heart, no part of Nature could possibly remain 
 unmoved. I regard it as a fine stroke of literary 
 genius that, in seeking a partner for the dance of 
 the spirit, the psalmist should have chosen, not 
 the streams, but the mountains. He wants to 
 show how utterly dependent is the aspect of 
 Nature on the state of the heart — even where the 
 aspect of Nature seems most fixed and stereo- 
 typed. He tells how in the joy of the spirit even 
 the stable mountains cannot keep still to the eye 
 of the beholder, but leap and bound and vibrate 
 to the pulse of the gladdened soul. Have you 
 not felt this power of joy over prosaic things. 
 Have you not felt how cold has lost its chillness, 
 how rain has lost its dreariness, how wind has 
 lost its bitterness, when the heart was young. 
 Have you not felt how the long way became 
 short, how the rough road became smooth, how 
 the muddy path became clean, when the heart 
 was young. Have you not felt how the roar of 
 62 
 
THE RESPONSE OF THE ENVIRONMENT 
 
 traffic made music, how the din of the city made 
 merry, how the shriek of the railway train made 
 laughter, when the heart was young. Oh, the 
 psalmist was right when he said that when the 
 soul is emancipated from its Egypt the very 
 mountains leap. 
 
 Lord, Thou hast said, " I go to prepare a place 
 for you." Yea, and the preparation must be 
 rather in me than in the place. Any place will 
 be joyous, if my heart be young. Rejuvenate my 
 heart, O Lord, and the mountains will leap. 
 When my heart grows old I get weary of locali- 
 ties ; I migrate from spot to spot, I flit from 
 flower to flower, I sigh for the wings of a dove to 
 break the monotony of my rest. But that is 
 because my heart is not leaping. If my heart 
 would leap, everything would leap — the very 
 mountains. It is not new objects I want ; it is 
 renewed joy in them. Give me back the joy of 
 the waves, the laughter of the brooks, the singing 
 of the streams ! Give me back the sense of morn- 
 ing, the smile of Nature's greeting, the welcome 
 from wood and field ! Make the excursion what 
 it used to be ; make the holiday what it used to 
 be ; make the evening walk what it used to be ! 
 It is not the years that have stolen their charm ; 
 it is the friction of the heart. Revive the joy of 
 
 63 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 my heart, O Lord ! Make my spirit young again! 
 Restore my soul to freshness that the pastures 
 may be green ! Give me back the child's wonder, 
 the boy's ardour, the youth's glamour ! Replace, 
 within, the rose that has withered ! Rekindle the 
 spring that has faded ! Reanimate the hope that 
 is vanished ! Renew to October the promise 
 made to April! Plant the burning bush amid 
 the snows of Nebo ! Give aspiration to my 
 autumn, wings to my winter, songs to my sunset, 
 expectancy to my evening light! Then shall 
 the waves resound once more ; then shall the 
 mountains leap as they did at morning's glow* 
 
The Permanence of Spirit in the Fleetingness 
 of Nature 
 
 •• They shall perish, but Thou shall endure ; yea, all of them 
 shall wax old like a garment ; but Thou art the same." — Ps. cii. 
 26, 27. 
 
 The sentiment of this passage is to my mind 
 unique in literature. The common sentiment of 
 men in looking on the face of nature is the con- 
 trary. You gaze upon a field which you trod in 
 childhood ; and almost with bitterness the thought 
 comes over you, Why is matter so much more 
 enduring than spirit ! You think of the multitude 
 who are dead since first you trod this field — this 
 field which seems to stand as fresh and green as of 
 yore. It is such a sentiment as this which 
 Tennyson expresses when he makes the brook 
 sing, " Men may come and men may go, but I 
 go on for ever." It is such a sentiment as this 
 which Byron expresses when he surveys the sea 
 and cries, " Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure 
 brow." It is such a sentiment as this which we 
 all express when we speak of "the everlasting 
 
 65 E 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 hills"; we are contrasting the permanence of 
 nature with the transitoriness of spirit. But in 
 this outpouring of the psalmist we have exactly 
 the opposite idea ; here, nature is the perishable 
 and spirit the permanent. He looks at the field, 
 at the sea, at the hills, and cries, " They perish, 
 but the great Spirit remaineth." It is the in- 
 version of Tennyson's song — ** Brooks may come 
 and brooks may go, but soul goes on for ever." 
 And there is no doubt, even from a literary point 
 of view, that the psalmist is right. Even in this 
 world the most abiding thing is a soul. The 
 brook could never say ** I," because it does not 
 remain the same brook for two minutes. So far 
 from going on for ever, it needs to be renewed 
 every instant. The drops are new each moment. 
 They only seem the same because my spirit is the 
 same. It is my spirit which says ** I " — not the 
 brook. The psalmist saw this. He saw that the 
 permanence attributed to each natural form is an 
 illusion cast by the shadow of the soul's own 
 immortality. The bloom of the flower is not a 
 single bloom; it is a momentarily repeated colour. 
 The water of the stream is not a single water ; 
 it is an ever-renewed liquid. The strength of 
 the mountain is not a single strength ; it is a 
 constantly-replenished force coming from the play 
 66 
 
THE PERMANENCE OF SPIRIT 
 
 of atoms. The spirit alone abides ; the spirit 
 alone says " I." 
 
 O Thou Divine Spirit, whose breath has become 
 my spirit, the secret of my permanence is Thy life 
 within me. I am the one stable thing in a fleeting 
 universe. All my vestures are being changed from 
 hour to hour. The body I have in youth is not 
 the body I had when a child ; not one trace of the 
 old garment remains. Yet my spirit remains ; the 
 tabernacle has vanished, but I go on for ever. 
 Why ? What is that which is permanent within 
 me after I have lost every vestige of my garment ? 
 It is Thou, O Lord. That which I call my soul 
 is a breath from Thee. It is a part of Thyself. 
 It is a spray- drop from Thine ocean ; it is a spark 
 from Thy fire. Many, when they address Thee, 
 look up; / look in. There are some to whom 
 Thou art most mirrored in the sunbeam ; to me 
 Thou art most deeply reflected in the soul. There 
 is one thing which in the sunbeam I cannot see — 
 Thy permanence. I can see there Thy brightness, 
 Thy joy, Thy glory — but not Thy permanence. 
 I never can see that till I look into my soul. The 
 brook has no continuous song ; its chatterings are 
 but the accumulated voices of dying myriads of 
 drops extinguished to make room for more. But 
 by the side of the brook my soul can sing a real 
 
 67 E 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 song, a continuous song, a song that persists while 
 the atoms are vanishing. By the side of the 
 brook my soul can live while the waters die, my 
 heart can beat while the globules fall, my steps 
 can stray while the myriad drops expire. There- 
 fore it is within that I see the vision of Thine 
 immortality. It is within that I read the record 
 of Thy Life Eternal. It is within that I seek a 
 symbol of Thine Everlasting Day. I address my 
 spirit when I say to Thee, " They shall perish, 
 but Thou shalt endure." 
 
 68 
 
The Religious Type of Peter 
 
 " Account that the longsufifermg of our Lord is salvation.*'— 
 2 Pbter III. 15. 
 
 The salvation of the soul takes different forms 
 according to the difference of the character. In 
 the New Testament epistles it has, I think, 
 assumed four different forms, represented respec- 
 tively by James, Paul, John, and Peter. With 
 James salvation is reached by work — it comes 
 primarily through the hand. With Paul it is 
 reached by light — it comes in a flash from heaven 
 appealing to the eye. With John it is reached by 
 love — it speaks originally to the heart. With 
 Peter it is different from any of these. In his 
 view it is reached by a series of buffetings — by 
 repeated falls and repeated forgivenesses — by 
 what he calls " the longsuffering of God." All 
 these different standpoints have come from the 
 separate experiences of the men. James was long 
 a Jew before he became a Christian, and therefore 
 he was always prone to prefer work to sentiment. 
 Paul was illuminated by an intellectual light, and 
 
 69 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 therefore he aspired *' to comprehend with all 
 saints." John was the disciple of love, and there- 
 fore he studied with his heart. But the most 
 appropriate parallel of all is that of Peter. To 
 him salvation or the power of walking came by 
 repeated falls and repeated liftings from the 
 ground — in other words, by the longsuffering of 
 God. He receives Christ's blessing in the 
 morning, and in the evening gets His stern 
 rebuke. One hour he is on the mountain, and 
 the next under a cloud. To-day he is voyaging 
 bravely, and to-morrow he is crying, ** Save me; 
 I perish ! " Now he is vowing deathless devotion 
 to Jesus, and anon he is proclaiming, " I know 
 not the man." I do not wonder that to him 
 salvation became equivalent to the longsuffering 
 of God. And I do think that Peter represents 
 the larger class. There are earnest workers 
 among us like James. There are intellectual 
 seers among us like Paul. There are devotees of 
 the heart among us like John. But I think the 
 large majority among us are men with whom 
 it is neither abiding light nor abiding darkness — 
 men who are falling to-day and rising to-morrow 
 — men on whose tombstone the only appropriate 
 words would be, " Saved by the longsuffering of 
 God." 
 
 70 
 
THE RELIGIOUS TYPE OF PETER 
 
 Lord, teach me my brotherhood with the Peters 
 of this world ! I am always ready to claim it 
 with Paul, with John, even with James ; but I am 
 slow to claim it with Peter. When I see a man 
 with a light in his soul I behold an evidence of 
 Thy communion. When I meet a man with love 
 in his heart I behold an evidence of Thy com- 
 munion. When I find a man with Christian 
 work on his hands I behold an evidence of Thy 
 communion. But when I see a man in struggle 
 with life's winds and waves, when I behold him 
 alternately rising and falling — to-day breasting the 
 billows and to-morrow sinking in the depths, I 
 say, **This is one whose Christian life is not yet 
 begun." Teach me my mistake, O Father ! 
 Teach me that those in conflict are themselves in 
 the way of salvation ! Give me a hand of fellow- 
 ship for the man of many falls ! It is easy for me 
 to have fellowship with light and love and 
 working. But with the man who is waited for — 
 whose light is fitful, whose love is wavering, whose 
 working is spasmodic, I have not been taught to 
 claim kindred. Let this be Thy lesson for me 
 to-day, O Lord ! Let me admit to Thy com- 
 munion the storm-tossed souls, the sinking souls, 
 the souls that have failed to walk upon life's sea ! 
 Let me admit to Thy communion the minds 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 whose vision of glory has been clouded, who have 
 been unable to fix their tabernacle upon a height ! 
 Let me admit to Thy communion the spirits that 
 have wrecked brave resolves — that have violated 
 in the market-place the pledges they have made 
 in the garden ! Let me admit to Thy communion 
 the lives that have not yet learned the glory of the 
 Cross — that shrink from following up the Dolorous 
 Way ! Let me admit to Thy communion those 
 who have kept Thee long waiting, whose progress 
 has been slow, whose back-turns have been many ! 
 for Thy longsuffering is itself salvation, and until 
 Thou hast blessed Peter, Thou wilt not let him go. 
 
 72 
 
The Characteristic of St, John 
 
 " These are written, that believing ye might have life through 
 His name." — John xx. 21. 
 
 I DO not think we mark sufficiently the traces 
 of autobiography in the sacred writers. The 
 favourite word of John is " life." He dwells upon 
 it more than on any other conception. And it 
 seems to me that there is great appropriateness in 
 the selection. To the men of his generation he 
 was essentially the man of life. He had so much 
 vitality about him that his contemporaries said he 
 would never die. He says himself that if a man 
 had in him the spirit of Christ he would have in 
 him the spirit of immortal youth, or what he calls 
 Eternal Life. Where did he get that conception ? 
 From his own experience. He felt every morning 
 as if he were born afresh into the world. He felt 
 something within him like the springing up of 
 living waters. Nay, he felt as if he had already 
 passed the rubicon of death and had even now 
 entered the world of the immortals. I think if 
 you and I had met St. John the thing that would 
 
 71 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 have impressed us above all other things would 
 have been the vitality of his spirit. We see this 
 manifestation exhibited in some of our fellow-men ; 
 there are those whom we describe as " full of hfe." 
 And if you ask the source of this Hfe you will find 
 that in every case it is originated by something 
 outside. John says that in his case the flow of 
 vitality came from the name of Jesus. The flow 
 of vitality always comes from a human interest, 
 and it is generally awakened by a name. The 
 names "fraternity,'* "liberty," " equality," stimu- 
 lated the French Revolution — a vital force that 
 shook the world. Many a heart has been vitalised 
 by a name. You sit in a crowded drawing-room 
 and hear a buzz of inarticulate voices. Suddenly, 
 a voice not louder than the rest becomes articulate ; 
 it pronounces a name, a name you love ; it says, 
 mentioning that name, " Have you heard he is 
 coming home ? " Before that name broke upon 
 your ear you were listless, apathetic, dead. But 
 when you heard the prophecy of its owner's 
 advent, a new life rose within you. The eye 
 sparkled ; the cheek mantled ; the pulse 
 quickened ; the room became radiant ; the 
 languor vanished ; the hours received wings. 
 Even such to the beloved disciple was the mention 
 of the name of Jesus. It made him young again 
 
 74 
 
THE CHARACTERISTIC OF ST. JOHN 
 
 — nay, rather it kept him from ever growing old. 
 It constituted him an evergreen ; it gave him life 
 eternal. It not only prolonged his years ; it made 
 them perpetual spring — elastic with energy, 
 bounding with hope, buoyant with the promise of 
 to-morrow. It retained within him the heart of a 
 child. 
 
 Lord, I often speak of the needs of life. Teach 
 me that the greatest need in life is life more 
 abundant ! When my brother man gets wealth I 
 often say, " I hope he will have long life to enjoy 
 it." Teach me that what he needs for its enjoy- 
 ment is not length, but amount, of life ! I 
 complain sometimes that things are not as they 
 were in the days of my youth — that the grass is 
 less verdant, the birds less vocal, the waves less 
 joyous. Teach me that the change is from within 
 — in the decline of youth itself! Teach me that 
 if I could get back the spirit of youth the birds 
 would sing the songs of Bethlehem and the fields 
 would wear the flowers of Eden ! Teach me that 
 I may get back my youth — that love has no 
 seasons, and that love can make me young ! I 
 shall be young once more when I get back the 
 sensation of one name sounding above every name 
 in the world's crowded room. I may have that 
 sensation, O my Lord ; the old man of Patmos had 
 
 75 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 it and it made April of his November. My heart, 
 like his, may tremble with joy at the sound of a 
 name — Thy Name. My spirit, like his, may leap 
 at the sense of a presence — Thy presence. My 
 step, like his, may bound at the tread of a coming 
 — Thy coming. My eye, like his, may see visions 
 in the prospect of a glory — Thy glory. My frame, 
 like his, may cast off ailments in the expectancy 
 of a meeting — Thy meeting. Even so come. 
 Lord Jesus! 
 
 76 
 
The First Place of God's Revelation 
 
 " God hath shined in our hearts to give the light of the know- 
 ledge of the glory in the face of Jesus Christ." — 2 Cor. iv. 6. 
 
 ** God hath shined in our hearts." What a 
 strange place to shine in, considering the object 
 in view ! What is the object in view ? It is to 
 show the Hght in the face of Christ. Should we 
 not, then, have expected that the face of Christ 
 would have been the entire source of the illumina- 
 tion ? Should we not have looked for the words 
 to have run thus : " God hath shined in the face 
 of Christ to give the light of His glory to the 
 heart " ? If the light is in Christ's face, should it 
 not come from the face ; what has the poor heart 
 of man to do with the revelation of God's glory ? 
 Much, my brother. There can be no revelation to 
 a human heart unless that heart is already on 
 the line of the revelation. Dissimilar natures 
 cannot be mutually revealed. Of all raen known 
 to me Paul is the most impressed with this. He 
 says, " No man can know the things of a man but 
 the spirit of a man." He means that a dog cannot 
 
 77 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 know the things of a man, that the human alone 
 can recognise the human. He says, again, that no 
 seeing of the eye, nor hearing of the ear, can 
 reveal the things of the spirit, that they can only 
 enter a kindred spirit. And this explains what I 
 have often wondered at — why Paul, in speaking of 
 his conversion, says, " It pleased God to reveal His 
 Son in me." Why ''in me " ? I thought it was 
 an outward light that illuminated him. I should 
 have expected Paul to say, " It pleased God to 
 reveal His Son to me." But Paul knew better. 
 He knew well that no outward light could reveal 
 anything unless there was a corresponding light 
 already in his soul. Listen ! — the Spirit must 
 precede the Son. Did not our Lord Himself tell 
 Peter that he never would have recognised His 
 greatness by any outward vision. — ** Flesh and 
 blood have not revealed it unto thee, but my 
 Father." Why do some see Jesus on the mount, 
 and others only see Him on the plain? His 
 outward shining is to both the same ; the differ- 
 ence lies in the greeting of the spirit. There are 
 hearts which are already strewn with palm leaves 
 for the feet of the Son of Man. The beauty 
 which kindles me is ever kindled from within. 
 The sublimity of night is in my souL The message 
 of wood and field is beforehand in my mind, 
 
 78 
 
THE FIRST PLACE OF CLOD'S REVELATION 
 
 Nature only speaks to me when my heart trans- 
 lates its language. The lark will not carol when 
 the heart has care, the brook will not babble when 
 the heart is burdened, the morn will not smile 
 when the heart is smitten ; for the song of the lark 
 is my song, the brightness of the brook is my 
 brightness, the smile of the morn is the laughter 
 of my soul. 
 
 O Thou who hast illumined the face of Thy 
 Christ, illumine my heart to see it ! In vain shall 
 He come to Galilee if He does not come to my 
 soul ! How shall I see Him as He is if I am not 
 hke Him ! How shall His treasures be borne 
 into my spirit if there is no bridge of sympathy 
 between Him and me ! Build that bridge, O 
 Lord ! I cannot read the expression of love on a 
 face except there be love within me. Put love 
 within me, O my Father ! Neither sunlight nor 
 moonlight nor starlight can reveal to me the 
 portrait of Thy Christ; only heart-light can. 
 Shine in my heart that I may see its glory ! Let 
 me feel beforehand that the Christ-hfe is the 
 heroic life ! Inspire me with the ideal ere I meet 
 the reahty ! Kindle me with the love of kind- 
 ness ! Stir me with the admiration of sympathy ! 
 Haunt me with the beauty of holiness ! Teach 
 me the power of peacemaking, the strength of 
 
 79 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 sacrifice, the bravery of bending, the courage of 
 cross-bearing, the devotedness of self-denial, the 
 majesty of mercy, the royalty of restrained passion, 
 the sceptre of silence, the heroism of a chosen 
 humility ! Then shall the threshold of my heart 
 be lighted for the Master's coming ; and by that 
 light on the threshold I shall meet Him at the 
 door ; and at the very first sight of His kindred 
 countenance I shall have knowledge of His glory. 
 
 80 
 
God's Deepest Horror in Sin 
 
 «'He that sinneth against me wrongeth his own soul."— 
 Proverbs viii. 36. 
 
 This is not the common mode of thinking 
 about sin. The common mode is to regard God's 
 horror of sin as resulting from a sense of injury 
 to Himself. Here, on the contrary, the Divine 
 horror of sin is said to consist in the fact that it 
 is an injury to me. A father says to a child, " Do 
 not go near the fire while I am out ; if you do, I 
 shall be very angry." The child probably thinks 
 that his anger will He in the fact of being disobeyed 
 It will not lie there at all ; it will be stirred purely 
 by the fear that in its act of disobedience the 
 child may have hurt itself. And if he finds that 
 the child has hurt itself, his anger will be trans- 
 muted into the most intense pain. Now, take 
 what we call hell-^re. The Heavenly Father cries 
 to His children, " I command you not to go near 
 it lest you get scorched." What is the ground 
 of that command ? Is it the wish to exercise a 
 Divine authority ? No ; starthng as it may seem, 
 
 81 F 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 it is the wish to avert a Divine fear. You have 
 heard the expression, "The fear of the Lord." 
 When I am exhorted to cultivate the fear of the 
 Lord, v/hat does that mean ? It means that I 
 am to get into my heart that fear which dwells 
 in the heart of God, that I am to have for my 
 brother the same dread which the Heavenly 
 Father has for His children. The fear of the 
 Lord is the fear that His sons and daughters will 
 touch the fire. If there were not that dread in 
 the heart of the All-Father, the commands of 
 Sinai would never have been issued. You speak 
 of God's sovereign decrees. God has no sovereign 
 decrees ; God's decrees are all paternal. The 
 decrees of a despot are meant to clip the subject's 
 wings ; those of the Father are meant to expand 
 the wings. Why are you forbidden to hate? 
 Because hatred cramps the soul. Why are you 
 forbidden to be jealous ? Because jealousy 
 narrows the soul. Why are you forbidden to be 
 selfish ? Because selfishness locks the soul. Why 
 are you commanded to love ? Because love is 
 liberty. Why are you commanded to pity ? 
 Because pity is power. Why are you commanded 
 to sympathise ? Because sympathy is the heart's 
 soaring. The commands of your Father break the 
 cage and set you free. He prescribes faith that 
 82 
 
GOEKS DEEPEST HORROR IN SIN 
 
 you may fly. He offers grace that you may 
 grow. He enjoins kindness that you may kindle. 
 He exacts brotherhood that you may bloom. He 
 requires service that you may sing. He invites 
 prayer that you may prophesy. Not in His honour, 
 but in yours, does He ask the homage of your heart; 
 the Father has no glory but the enlargement of 
 His child. 
 
 Lord, make me partaker of Thy fear — the fear 
 that the children may get hurt in the great fire I 
 It was the fear of Thy Son in Gethsemane when 
 He poured forth His soul in strong crying and 
 tears. Let me work together with Thee in keeping 
 back the children from the fire ! May we 
 labour in common. Thou and I, for this glorious 
 end! Let me feel what Thou feelest — not the 
 disobedience, but the danger ! Be mine Thy pain, 
 O Lord — the pain for the sinner ! Teach me the 
 suicide of sin ! Teach me that Magdalene mars 
 her own flower — not Thine ! Teach me that the 
 judgment on transgression is not a father's anger, 
 but a father's grief ! Remind me when it was that 
 Thy Son said, " Now is the judgment of this 
 world" — that it was when His own heart was 
 crucified by the creature's pain ! Reveal to me, 
 nay, repeat in me, the mystery of Calvary ! Let 
 me bear with Thee, with Thy Christ, the burdens 
 
 83 F 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 of the bad ! Impress me with their poverty ! 
 Weight me with their weariness ! Load me with 
 their self-loathing ! Rack me with their remorse ! 
 Toss me with their tempests ! Haunt me with 
 their hunger ! Scorch me with the soreness of 
 their flame ! I am told they have violated Thy 
 justice ; Thy deepest sorrow is that they have 
 been unjust to themselves — they have " wronged 
 their own souls." 
 
 84 
 
Sin Conquered by Loveliness 
 
 " He was manifested to take away our sins."— i John hi. 5. 
 
 Manifested to take away sin! If we met 
 these words for the first time, we should think 
 them very strange. They sound as if one said, 
 " A picture was exhibited to remove a pestilence." 
 The agency seems extremely soft for the iron task 
 assigned to it. We could understand the appro- 
 priateness of other agencies. We could under- 
 stand why it should be said, "Repressive laws 
 were made to take away sin." We could under- 
 stand the propriety of the statement, " Drastic 
 penalties were enacted to take away sin." We 
 could understand the logic of the averment, " A 
 life of asceticism was prescribed to take away 
 sin." But a manifestation, an exhibition, a 
 painting, a mere showing of something — that 
 seems a poor weapon to wield against so deadly 
 a foe. Yet, examine your own experience and 
 you will find St. John is right. What is it which 
 cures the greatest number of sins in this world ? 
 
 85 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Is it law ? No. Is it penalty ? No. Is it the 
 withdrawal of outward temptation ? No. It is 
 the sight of something beautiful, or I should 
 rather say, the sight of some one beautiful. What 
 I need is not a restraining influence ; it is an 
 expanding influence. I require, not a stone laid 
 at the door of the heart, but a star lit in the dome 
 of the heavens. I shall never lose my attraction 
 for sin by being contracted in the opportunity for 
 it. What I want is a counter-attraction — a 
 counter-love. Sin is a state of love. It is the 
 love of a person — myself. You can only counter- 
 balance that on the homoeopathic principle — by 
 opposing to it another kind of love. I must see a 
 more admirable being than myself. My heart, 
 which has been captivated by the charm of my 
 own personality, must be taken prisoner by a 
 purer personality. We sometimes say of a self- 
 conscious man, " He needs to get his wings 
 chpped." No ; what he needs is to get his wings 
 extended. He is not too ambitious ; he is too 
 humble. He must be made to soar higher. This 
 world must not lose its attraction for him ; it 
 must gain more attraction. He has been enchanted 
 by a stagnant pool. How is he to be dis- 
 enchanted ? By drying up the pool ? No ; that 
 would not make him love it less ; it would still be 
 86 
 
SIN CONQUERED BY LOVELINESS 
 
 undried in memory. If you want to disenchant 
 him, you must show him the sea — with its laughing 
 waves, with its bounding waters, with its pulses 
 of leaping life. So shall the stagnancy be put to 
 shame ; so shall he learn that he was worshipping 
 a dead thing. 
 
 O Thou who art a portion of this world and 
 yet fairer than the children of men, I fly to Thee, 
 I do not seek to learn purity by counting the 
 impurities in the pool ; I fly to Thee. I stand by 
 the ocean of Thy love and listen to its music ; and 
 the old ideal dies, and all things are made new. 
 It is not by Thy precepts I am purified ; it is by 
 Thyself. It is not by coming to hate the world ; 
 it is by finding a new beauty in the world — Thy 
 beauty. There has been no outward shattering 
 of myself; there has been simply a gaze at Thee, 
 My riches have not taken wings, but my soul has. 
 I have not lost avarice by losing gold, but by 
 gaining flowers of paradise. I have not abandoned 
 intemperance through failing health, but by getting 
 health more abundantly. I have not dulled 
 temptation by ceasing to care for earth, but by 
 putting on a larger care — care for Thee. My 
 burdens have fallen at the vision of Thy beauty. 
 My vanities have faded at the sight of Thy 
 vesture. My follies have fled from the brightness 
 
 87 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 of Thy face. My selfishness has withered in the 
 light of Thy smile. My hardness has melted in 
 the warmth of Thy heart. My passion has been 
 lulled by the calm of Thy presence. I have lost 
 sight of the wilderness by gazing on the New 
 Jerusalem ; Thou Altogether Lovely, I am saved 
 by Thee. 
 
 88 
 
The Principle of Christ's Selection 
 
 •• Jesus stood still and commanded him to be called. And they 
 call the blind man, saying unto him, Be of good comfort, rise ; 
 He calleth thee." — Mark x. 49. 
 
 You will observe, Jesus called the blind man 
 while he was yet in his blindness. This is the 
 most significant and the most suggestive feature 
 of the narrative. He does not exact light as the 
 condition of the man's coming ; He calls him with 
 the night still hanging round him, with the burden 
 still unlifted, with the barrier still unremoved. 
 That remains to this day the law of Christ's 
 kingdom — though there are many of His ministers 
 who need to learn it. We all feel the value and 
 the glory of religious light; but it is a great 
 mistake to imagine that religious light is essential 
 to a man's call. We have come to look upon the 
 intellectual perplexities of a human soul as a sign 
 that this soul is unconverted. They are no such 
 sign. This man in the streets of Jericho is a 
 typical case. The typical thing about him is not 
 that he regains his sight, but that he comes to 
 
 89 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Christ before he has regained his sight. The 
 thing that makes him spiritually fit for the king- 
 dom of God is not his vision of the light but his 
 contact with Jesus. The moral would to my 
 mind have been equally effective without the cure. 
 All the men in the streets of Jericho were saying, 
 " This man's darkness proves him to be outside 
 the kingdom of God." Jesus says, ** I will refute 
 that belief; bring the man to me in his present 
 state of dilapidation ; bring him with the burden 
 unrelieved and the night unbroken, and even thus 
 I will let him in." And that is Christ's message 
 to the men of England as well as to the men of 
 Jericho. We say, " There are those among us 
 whose spiritual knowledge is very defective; we 
 will take care not to admit them to Christ's 
 table." Christ says, " If you can get them into 
 contact with myself, you can/osj5^ow5 their spiritual 
 knowledge ; if you can inspire personal love, you 
 can let them wait for light ; bring them to me.'* 
 My Christ is the only Master that has membership 
 for the benighted. All others cry, " Get your sight 
 and come." He says, ** Come, and get your 
 sight." Moses asks cleansing ; Socrates desires 
 knowledge; Plato needs philosophy; Buddha 
 seeks worldly renunciation; Confucius demands 
 orderly life; John Baptist requires the fruits of 
 90 
 
THE PRINCIPLE OF CHRIST'S SELECTION 
 
 repentance. But Christ will accept the hearing 
 of a voice in the night. He does not ask pre- 
 liminary morning. He does not ask antecedent 
 vision. He does not ask, for the opening miles, a 
 knowledge of the way. He only appeals to the 
 ear; He says, ** Come." 
 
 O Thou who alone hast called the sons of night, 
 unto whom shall we go but unto Thee ! All other 
 masters keep back the white robe till we are able 
 to see it — Moses, Socrates, Plato, Confucius, 
 Buddha, the baptist John. But Thou hast put 
 the white robe on us while yet we are blind. 
 Thou hast clothed us in a garment of which we 
 cannot yet see the beauty — the garment of Thine 
 own righteousness. Thou hast painted us in Thy 
 heart not as we are but as we shall be. Thou 
 hast dressed us in the colours of a sun on which 
 our eyes have never gazed. The light in which 
 we stand before Thee is the light of to-morrow. 
 jit is not our rags Thou beholdest, but our future 
 radiance. There is photographed in Thy rays, not 
 the man that is, but the man that is to be. Thou 
 seest Peter without his timidity, John without his 
 exclusiveness, James without his prosaicness, 
 Thomas without his scepticism, Nicodemus with- 
 out his materiahsm, Paul without his legalism, 
 Martha without her philistinism, Magdalene 
 
 91 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 without her sevenfold temptation. Thou waitest 
 not for our amendment ; the light by which Thou 
 seest us is not ours, but Thine. Thou callest us 
 to our labour and our ladenness, to our burden and 
 our blindness, to our withering and our weakness. 
 Thou speakest not to our present nobleness but to 
 our present need ; in the sense of that need, we 
 come. 
 
 9a 
 
The True Outlook for Faith 
 
 "Righteousness shall go before Him." — Ps. lxxxv. 13. 
 
 Why should the psalmist say that God's 
 righteousness " goes before Him " ; why should 
 he not have written, " His righteousness will be 
 seen as He is passing by " ? Because this latter 
 would not be true. It is not as God passes that 
 His righteousness is seen. The idea I take to be 
 that we cannot expect to understand the goodness 
 of God until His plan has been fully unfolded. 
 We feel His action to-day ; we shall only learn 
 its wisdom to-morrow. We see the storing of 
 vegetable matter in the depths of the earth ; we 
 say, " To what purpose is this waste ! " By-and- 
 by it is dug up for coal ; it becomes the source of 
 household fires and the means of swift locomotion. 
 We find that in its buried state it has been wait- 
 ing to be the minister to human civilisation, and 
 we say to God, " Thou hast understood my 
 thoughts afar off — Thou hast made provision in 
 advance." We see a man of grand powers 
 
 93 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 immured in a wilderness; we say again, "To 
 what purpose is this waste ! " By-and-by the 
 wilderness becomes a thoroughfare, and the 
 solitude is broken. We find that in his buried 
 state the man has been waiting for the hour of a 
 great destiny, and we cry to God, "The com- 
 pleted years have praised Thee." We see the 
 Priest of human souls crucified by the world; we 
 say once more, " To what purpose is this waste ! " 
 By-and-by that cross becomes His glory. His 
 kingdom, His crown. We find that in His buried 
 state He has redeemed the world, and we cry to 
 God, "The fulness of the time has justified 
 Thee." In all these acts the righteousness of 
 God has gone before Him. It has not been seen 
 while He was passing by. The thing seen was 
 something apparently adverse to God — something 
 which seemed to derogate from His providence. 
 But the object present to the Divine eye was 
 always the future. It rested not on the buried 
 vegetation but on the coming coalfield, not on 
 the deserted place but on the desert made 
 populous, not on the death in humiliation but on 
 the days when such humiliation should be deemed 
 the climax of glory. To see the righteousness of 
 God you must see Him by to-morrow's light. 
 Lord, to me Thy deeds are often in the cloud. 
 
 94 
 
THE TRUE OUTLOOK FOR FAITH 
 
 Help me at these times to look towards the 
 coming day ! I sometimes gaze at the universe 
 and say, " Is this a perfect building ? " Help me 
 to remember that the building is not finished yet, 
 and that therefore it cannot be perfect ! Thy 
 righteousness goes before Thee, O Lord; praise 
 waiteth for Thee till the seventh morn shall dawn. 
 Thou art still working at the structure ; and to 
 the present eye there seems disorder. Teach me 
 that the disorder lies in the process of building ! 
 Give me a vision of Thy completed plan ! Thy 
 plan is perfection through suffering — the glorifica- 
 tion of minor chords in a symphony. To-day I 
 hear the minor chords, but not the symphony. 
 They are voices crying in the wilderness. It is 
 their wilderness — their isolation from the other 
 notes, that makes their sound so sad. Often I 
 stretch my hands to Thee and say, "Where is 
 the sign of Thy love ! " Tell me that the minor 
 notes will be justified when the symphony comes ! 
 Tell me that one day the voices of the universe 
 will sing together in a blaze of harmony! Tell 
 me that the chord which to-day seems to jar will 
 to-morrow join ! Tell me that in the symphonic 
 chorus there is a place prepared for the seemingly 
 discordant tone ! Tell me that grief will be 
 wedded to glory, that pain will be married to 
 
 95 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 peace, that toil will be united to triumph, that 
 loss will be linked with love, that burdens will 
 blend with beauty, that cares will be heard as 
 carols, that the dirge will keep time to the dance ! 
 Thy righteousness has gone before Thee, O my 
 Father; I shall find its vindication at the 
 marriage-supper of the Lamb. 
 
 96 
 
Man^s Need of Immortality 
 
 " Remember how short my time is ; wherefore hast Thou 
 made all men in vain ! " — Ps. lxxxix. 47. 
 
 I WOULD describe this as the earliest Bible cry 
 for immortality. It is a very peculiar cry. It is 
 grounded not upon instinct, but upon reason. It 
 is not a longing founded upon the mere love of 
 life. It is not a desire based upon the mere dread 
 of death. It is not a wish rising from the mere 
 search for new surroundings. It is a cry origi- 
 nating in the spirit of economy — the resistance to 
 waste. The psalmist is impressed with the 
 inadequacy of the term of human life. He does 
 not mean that it is too short for enjoyment ; 
 enjoyment is always taken at a quick draught. 
 But he thinks it too short for the work assigned 
 to it. He sees the labourer hired into the vine- 
 yard with orders to perform a certain task. But 
 he finds that the task given to the labourer is one 
 which he could not possibly perform within the 
 limits of the working day. He says, " What does 
 97 G 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 the lord of the vineyard mean by this dispro- 
 portion between work and time ; surely he must 
 intend the labour to be continued into another 
 day ! " And you will find that the deepest cry of 
 all ages has been the psalmist's cry. What makes 
 us crave a future, is not a sense of this world's 
 misery, but a sense of this world's vanity. We 
 say with the psalmist, "Wherefore hast Thou 
 made all men in vain — why hast Thou given them 
 working orders which are quite incommensurate 
 with the brief time they have to live on earth ? " 
 We feel that there is more furniture to be put 
 into the house than the house will hold. We are 
 prompted to boundless aspiration, and we live on 
 earth but for an hour. We are inspired to endless 
 love, and it never reaches summer. We are 
 bidden by conscience to work for all ages, and we 
 have only threescore years and ten. Life's day is 
 too short for us. It is not too short for the bee, 
 which completes its destined palace. It is not too 
 short for the lark, which completes its destined 
 song. It is not too short for the ox, which com- 
 pletes its ploughing in the field. But it is too 
 short for man, whose ideal is unrealised, whose 
 song is unfinished, whose labour in the field is 
 scarce begun. 
 
 Therefore, O Lord, I know that this is not my 
 98 
 
MAN^S NEED OF IMMORTALITY 
 
 goal. I have brought into the vineyard imple- 
 ments which I can never use — which I have no 
 time to use. Thou hast furnished me with powers 
 which here can have no adequate exercise. Hast 
 Thou made me, then, in vain ! It cannot be, O 
 my Father. I speak of the ephemeral insect ; 
 yet, if this life were my all, the insect would not 
 be so ephemeral as I. The insect finishes the 
 work which Thou gavest it to do; I leave my 
 studies incomplete, my book unwritten, my 
 picture without its closing touch, my house with- 
 out its topmost storey. But it is just my incom- 
 pleteness that makes my hope. I know Thou 
 wouldst not give me power to be squandered ; I 
 know Thou hast appointed for me another day. 
 It is not my fear that cries to Thee ; it is my 
 sense of justice and my wish to vindicate Thy 
 justice. If earth met all my needs, I would accept 
 the day of death. But earth has not fully 
 responded to any one cry of my spirit, and I claim 
 response from Thee, It is in defence of Thee that 
 I seek a life beyond. I cannot bear to see the 
 wasted gifts upon the shore. Utilise them, O 
 Lord ! Surely there is light waiting somewhere 
 for my mirror ! Surely there are viands waiting 
 somewhere for my table ! Surely there is rest 
 waiting somewhere for my spread couch ! Surely 
 
 99 G 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 there are guests waiting somewhere for the many 
 vacant seats within my soul ! Surely there are 
 answers waiting somewhere to the myriad epistles 
 written by my heart ! Forbid that I should think 
 Thou hast made my life in vain I 
 
 100 
 
The Connection between Sanctity and 
 Salubrity 
 
 " God be merciful unto us and bless us, and cause His face to 
 shine upon us, that Thy saving health may be known among all 
 nations." — Ps. lxvii. i, 2. 
 
 There is a strong connection between health 
 and happiness — between the shining of the heart 
 and the soundness of the body. The connection, 
 I think, is more seen in the prevention than in the 
 cure of disease. When an illness has actually 
 mastered us it is usually vain to say, ** Keep up 
 your spirits." The tendency of illness is to keep 
 down the spirits. You remember how this is 
 suggested in the Book of Job. Why does the 
 Satan of the drama after overwhelming Job by 
 poverty and bereavement ask leave to afflict him 
 with ill-health ? It is because, while poverty and 
 bereavement make us prostrate, ill-health keeps us 
 prostrate — prevents us from seeing the actual sun- 
 beams which remain. But it is as a safeguard from 
 sickness rather than a cure of sickness that the 
 study of sunbeams is valuable. When the body 
 
 lOI 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 is laid low, all the light and music in the world 
 may fail to raise it ; but a very little light and 
 music might have prevented its prostration. It is 
 where the salt of life has lost its savour that the 
 body is trodden down ; but where the savour of 
 life is enjoyed, there is a body-guard. Now, the 
 psalmist says that religion has a medical value. 
 He says that everywhere — "among all nations" 
 — it tends to preserve health. It does so because 
 it furnishes a sunbeam to the heart. It gives a 
 promise of good fortune to come. A promise of 
 coming good fortune brings a flood of mental 
 energy, and that is converted into bodily energy. 
 The worries that make us physically weak are 
 almost entirely occupied with the future, whether 
 of this world or other worlds. The sting of poverty 
 is the thought of to-morrow. The sting of bereave- 
 ment is the cloud beyond death. The sting of 
 conscience is the doubt of our qualification for 
 heaven. And, if our worries are generally about 
 the future, they can have no panacea like religion. 
 Religion alone can make a heart confident about 
 the future. Human effort may in a measure 
 redeem the past ; human toil may provide much 
 for the present ; but only the sense of God can 
 gild my future. It is no mere metaphor when 
 the Bible calls God ** the health of my counte- 
 
 102 
 
SANCTITY AND SALUBRITY 
 
 nance " ; for the cares that ruffle the body are not 
 the troubles of to-day but the troubles of to- 
 morrow, and nothing can alleviate the troubles 
 of to-morrow but the shining face of God. 
 
 Shine into my heart, Thou better Sun, and 
 I shall be physically strong. It is rather on my 
 heart than on my garden I need Thy shining. 
 All Thy sunbeams might fall on my garden and 
 leave my heart in depression. That which weighs 
 down my spirit, and therefore my flesh, is ever 
 the coming day. I am exposed to sickness on 
 Monday from the mental worries of Tuesday. 
 It is my thought for to-morrow that weakens me 
 in the previous night ; my shadows are the fore- 
 casts of things to be ; I am weighted by the cares 
 I hear coming. Thou alone, O Lord, canst 
 muffle the sound of these wings ; Thou alone canst 
 give peace for to-morrow. Shine on me with Thy 
 face— Thine outlook of good cheer ! Take away 
 preliminary dread, that I may be proof against 
 the pestilence ! Dispel anticipative downcastness, 
 that I may be scathless among the sick ! Quell 
 dark premonitions, that I may be untouched by 
 the contagion! Inspire me with hope, that I 
 may not be wearied by the way ! Shed Thy 
 light on my future, that the burdens of the 
 present may not bruise me! Fill me with 
 103 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 antecedent joy, that I may not be caught by the 
 atmosphere's cold ! Encompass with song my 
 opening journey, that I may defy the draught 
 from lane and alley ! My spirit will be the 
 guardian of my body when I have learned that 
 Thou art my keeper. 
 
 204 
 
The Relation of Severity to Pardon 
 
 " Thou wast a God that forgavest them, though Thou tookest 
 vengeance of their doings."— Ps. xcix. 8 (R.V.). 
 
 There is a great confusion of thought on the 
 subject of retribution. It is supposed that when 
 a man suffers for his fault it indicates that God is 
 angry with him. The notion is that God may 
 forgive him after suffering his penalty, but that 
 the receiving of the penalty implies Divine dis- 
 pleasure. The psalmist's view is just the opposite. 
 He says that in dealing with His people God 
 forgave first and punished afterwards, " Thou 
 wast a God that forgavest them, though Thou 
 tookest vengeance of their doings." The idea 
 seems to be that when God forgives a man, part 
 of His forgiveness consists in the reparation of 
 his wrong. You will observe that God's vengeance 
 is here said to fall on acts — not on persons. The 
 more I love a wrongdoer and the more perfectly I 
 forgive his wrong, the more shall I be eager to 
 have it counteracted, expiated. If I have a son 
 whose fast living has involved him in deep debt, 
 105 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 my enmity to the debt will only be increased by 
 my reconciliation to himself. If I had cast him 
 off, I might wash my hands of his disgrace. But, 
 as I have received him back, his disgrace pains 
 me, revolts me. I appropriate it as in part my 
 own. I do so just because I have taken back my 
 son into the membership of my family. If I had 
 perpetually expelled him from my family, I should 
 have deemed his disgrace no affair of mine. But 
 because I have reinstated him, it does become my 
 affair. I feel that his creditors lie at my door. I 
 feel by the very love I bear him that his deed has 
 left a stain upon my own garment which, both in 
 his interest and mine, must be rubbed out. The 
 debt must be paid — if possible with his co-opera- 
 tion, certainly with his consent. The blotting-out 
 of the debt is my paternal vengeance upon his 
 deed, and it comes from the very heart of my 
 fatherhood. It is the voice, not of my anger, but 
 of my love. It is the product of my pardon, the 
 ground of my forgiveness, the result of my recog- 
 nition. The retribution would never have been 
 desired by me unless the song had first sounded 
 in my soul, " This my son was dead and is alive 
 again, was lost and is found." 
 
 Lord, let me not faint when my deed is rebuked 
 by Thee ; let me not say, " I am rejected of 
 io6 
 
THE RELATION OF SEVERITY TO PARDON 
 
 heaven!" I plant a tree of evil and ask Thy 
 pardon ; by-and-by the tempest comes and tears it 
 down. Shall I say that it is Thy vengeance upon 
 me ? Nay, my Father ; it is only Thy vengeance 
 upon my tree. The tearing down of my structure 
 is itself the sign of my pardon ; if Thou hadst 
 loved me less, Thou wouldst have let it stand. 
 Is it not a good gift of Thy love that all my 
 wicked deeds should be burned up— burned with 
 unquenchable fire. Let my first prayer to Thee, 
 be a prayer for the undoing of my past ! I have 
 read of the ill-planted seed, *' When the sun was 
 up, it was scorched." When the sun of Thy 
 favour rises upon me, all my ill-planted seeds 
 shall wither. They shall wither because of Thy 
 sun, because of the warmth of Thy love. Let no 
 one persuade me at that moment that I am in 
 the cold, in the outer darkness ! Let me claim 
 Thy sunshine as the witherer of my false gourd ! 
 It is not Thine anger but Thy love that demands 
 the atonement. After spiritual death is passed, 
 the judgment comes. Teach me that the judgment 
 is a sign of life, not death ! In my chastisement 
 let me read Thy charity ! In my correction let 
 me recognise Thy Christ ! In my retribution let 
 me detect Thy radiance ! In my pain let me feel 
 Thy pity ! In my forfeiture let me behold Thy 
 107 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 favour ! In my stripes let me see Thy smile ! 
 In my remorse let me discern Thy reconciliation ! 
 In the sharpness of my visitation let me hail the 
 shining of Thy visage ! There is no proof of Thy 
 Fatherhood like the scourging of my sin. 
 
 io8 
 
The Road to Righteousness 
 
 " That ye would walk worthy of God who hath called you."— 
 
 I. ThESS. II. 12. 
 
 There is a point here which, because it lies very 
 much on the surface, has generally escaped atten- 
 tion. It is this — Paul, in making an appeal to his 
 fellow-sinners, appeals not to their humility but 
 to their pride. We should have expected him to 
 have done otherwise. He was deeply conscious 
 himself of his moral shortcomings, and he was not 
 less aware of the shortcomings of those around 
 him. Should we not, then, have looked for a 
 direction to these shortcomings. Should we not 
 have expected him to say, "Consider how bad 
 you are, how needy you are, how threadbare you 
 are, how much you are in want of a new 
 garment ! " On the contrary, he appeals to them 
 on the opposite ground. He tells them they are 
 not wholly threadbare, not quite destitute. He 
 tells them there is something noble about them — • 
 something which has caused them to be elected 
 to a high position, and in which they ought to feel 
 log 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 a legitimate pride. He bids them contemplate 
 that part of their image which is not effaced — bids 
 them seek Christ, not through the sight of their 
 rags but through the light of their star, " Walk 
 worthy of God who hath called you." And I am 
 quite sure that Paul is right. I am convinced we 
 often fail to win men just because we suggest to 
 them their badness rather than their goodness. 
 It is a fatal thing for a man when he comes to 
 feel that nobody believes in him. Never let your 
 child see that you expect nothing of his integrity ; 
 if you expect nothing you will get nothing. Never 
 meet a statement of his by declaring, " I have no 
 faith in a word you say " ; that will paralyse his 
 efforts after truth. Rather say, " Remember, I 
 trust in your honour, I believe in your sincerity, 
 I have confidence that you would not deceive 
 me." That will make an appeal to any part of 
 his garment which is still unrent. The stripes 
 of conscience always fall on the better side of us. 
 When do I mourn the barrenness of my moral 
 field? It is when I catch sight of a patch of 
 green. A bad man is never so near to repentance 
 as when he is surprised into a good action. It is 
 from hope, not from despair, that the sting of 
 conscience comes. I am never ashamed of 
 myself till I see what I might have been. When 
 
THE ROAD TO RIGHTEOUSNESS 
 
 does the man of Tarsus fall to the earth ? When 
 he gets a vision of his better self — when the voice 
 of Christ says to him, **I am surprised that a man 
 like you should not have been on my side ; Saul, 
 Saul, why persecutest thou me ! " 
 
 Lord, show me my better self that I may repent 
 in dust and ashes! All repentant souls I have 
 ever seen have been vanquished by a sight of the 
 sunshine. I have seen Magdalene raining tears of 
 penitence at Thy feet ; but her tears were brought 
 by the sunshine — Thy smile of reconciliation. I 
 have seen Peter go out and weep bitterly ; but 
 his weeping came from Thy look of unexpected 
 love. I have seen the Samaritan stricken at the 
 well ; but she had received first a draught of the 
 living water. Help me to imitate Thy Divine 
 method, O Lord ! When I go to the miscreant 
 to win him back to Thee, let me seek within 
 him for traces of the dawn ! Let me come to him 
 as to a man who has a future, not as to a man 
 who has a past ! Let me approach him not with 
 a scourge, but with a smile ! Let me not tell 
 him of his night, but of his possible morning ! 
 Let me put into his hands a photograph of what 
 he will be to-morrow ! Let me not say to him, 
 ** You see how bad human nature is " ; let me say, 
 *' You see how beautiful is that human nature 
 
 XXI 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 which you are spoiling ! " Tell him that he is 
 not himself, that the likeness of him hung up in 
 heaven is quite different from his present mien! 
 Then will shame come — not from his night, but 
 from his day. Then will disgust come — not from 
 his rags, but from his prospective robe. Then 
 will remorse come — not from his deadness, but 
 from the pulse of his incipient life ; and hope will 
 bring forth the cry, ** I have been unworthy of 
 my caUing," 
 
 112 
 
The First Token of Divine Fellowship 
 
 "I will commune with thee from above the mercy-seat." — 
 
 Ex. XXV. 22. 
 
 Is it not rather a strange place for communion 
 between God and man. Communion always 
 implies some affinity of nature between two or 
 more minds. One would think the mercy-seat the 
 last place for an affinity of man with God. It is 
 a meeting of extremes — the Holy One and the 
 conscious sinner, the Righteous Judge and the 
 suppliant for pardon, the Sitter on the Great 
 White Throne and the convicted miscreant at 
 the bar of justice. We could have understood 
 communion with the Divine in other quarters. We 
 ;could have felt it under the throbbing stars, where 
 our hearts vibrate with the sense of the infinite. 
 We could have realised it in the presence of genius 
 where our spirit is made to forget its own limits. 
 We could have learned it even from our moments 
 of spiritual thirst, for the thirst for God implies a 
 capacity for God. But that there should be com- 
 munion in the moment of our moral conviction, 
 113 H 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 that there should be Divine fellowship in the 
 hour when we recognise that we are clothed 
 in rags— this is a startling thing I And yet it is 
 true. For, what is it that convicts a man ? What 
 is it that makes a human soul a suppliant for 
 mercy ? It is holiness already begun. The white 
 throne of God is only visible to the eye that is 
 emerging from impure waters. I am never so 
 near to God as when I cry, " Depart from me, 
 for I am a sinful man, O Lord ! " Not even when 
 vibrating 'neath the stars am I so near as then. 
 The stars reveal something beyond me ; the convic- 
 tion of sin reveals something in me. George 
 Macdonald has somewhere said that there are 
 colours which are only brought to light by a 
 cloudy day. I think it is pre-eminently true in 
 the sphere of the mercy-seat. I never learn that 
 I have a little good in me till I have realised my 
 worthlessness. It is not increased poverty, but 
 increased means, that makes me a suppliant. It 
 is the light, not the darkness, that brings me to 
 my knees. The shadow that I see is the shadow 
 of my God. I mistake the shadow for nightfall ; 
 I sit down to weep. I imagine that I am sitting 
 on the cold ground ; and all the time I am on 
 the doorstep of my Father's house, and the door 
 is open, and my Father is coming out to take me 
 114 
 
THE FIRST TOKEN OF DIVINE FELLOWSHIP 
 
 in. It is the brightness of God's face that makes 
 me cry for mercy. ^ 
 
 Lord, it is on my sea that Thou walkest ; it is 
 on the billows of my soul that Thou drawest 
 near. The first proof of Thy presence is inward 
 storm. It is by the rolling of the waves of 
 conscience that I know Thee to be nigh. When 
 Thou wert absent from my heart there was no 
 wind, there were no waves ; the sea was a great 
 calm. But when Thy feet touched the waters my 
 storm arose— the storm of my conscience. The 
 thing which yesterday looked harmless became 
 fraught with peril. The deeds on which yester- 
 day I gazed with complacency spread blackness 
 in my soul. The valleys became mountains, the 
 drops appeared oceans, the trifles loomed as 
 deadly crimes, and I beat upon my breast and 
 cried, " Lord, be merciful unto me ! " That was 
 my hour of communion with Thee, O my Father. 
 It was not the hour which brought communion ; 
 it was itself the fruit of fellowship. It was Thy 
 bresence woke the sea. It was Thy footstep broke 
 the silence of my spirit. It was Thy hand drew 
 aside the curtain that hid the mirror of myself. I 
 shall tremble at that mirror no more. Though 
 it shows my rags, though it reveals my squalor, 
 though it ensures my humility, I shall tremble no 
 
 115 H 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 more. I have learned my nothingness ; but it is 
 by Thy nearness. I have felt my poverty ; but it 
 is by Thy presence. I have experienced my 
 shadow ; but it is by Thy shining. I have been 
 taught my weakness ; but it is by the sweep of 
 Thy wing. I have found my frailty; but it is 
 by contact with Thy fire. I have been convicted 
 of sin ; but it is by the sight of Thy sanctuary. 
 My cry has com.e from the Christ within me ; 
 the suppliant for Thy mercy has the sign of 
 communion. 
 
 Ii6 
 
The Price I Pay for Seeing Christ 
 
 '♦When he saw Him, straightway the spirit tare him."— 
 Mark ix. 20. 
 
 This invalid only knew himself to be a weakling 
 when he saw Jesus. There is nothing which rends 
 the spirit hke the sight of a high ideal. Spiritual 
 stagnancy is the result of a low standard. There 
 is a phrase we often hear : " He is on very good 
 terms with himself." We apply it to a man who 
 has never had any rending of the spirit. I can 
 never be on bad terms with myself as long as 
 there is only one man within me. If in my heart 
 there hangs the picture of a second self, a higher 
 self, a self which mimics my errors and tells me 
 how things ought to be done — if there is in my 
 soul a man who sings after me the song I have 
 spoiled, reads after me the piece I have ruined, 
 performs after me the service I have poorly 
 rendered — that presence makes me small. It 
 puts me on bad terms with myself — on wrestHng 
 terms, the terms on which Jacob stood with his 
 angel. It will not in the least soothe my struggle 
 117 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 to know that I am the first man in the company, 
 in the village, or even in the kingdom. There was 
 not a man of his day so good as Jacob — he was 
 the chosen patriarch of God. But he was far 
 below his angel — the ideal of what he would like 
 to have been. It was his angel that made him 
 miserable. In view of its flight he was lame ; in 
 sound of its song he was dumb ; in presence ot 
 its radiance he had not reached the breaking ot 
 the day. He was on bad terms with himself ; he 
 wrestled with himself; the complacent calm of 
 long years was broken, and the tempest arose. 
 When Paul met a storm at sea, the men of Malta 
 said he must be a bad man. We are all apt to 
 feel like the men of Malta. When we see a storm- 
 tossed spirit toiling with its own waves and battling 
 with its own breezes, we say. Surely he is a child 
 of the darkness ! We are wrong ; he is a child 
 of the light. It is only because he is a child of 
 the light that he wrestles with the deep. He felt 
 no discord till he heard the music. He knew no 
 midnight till he saw the morning. He dreamed not 
 of his mean attire till he gazed on the seamless 
 robe. He got his cross from Christ, his laden- 
 ness from light, his burden from seeing beauty. 
 He was humbled by a sight of heaven, prostrated 
 by a ray of Patmos, broken by a song of Bethlehem, 
 Ii8 
 
THE PRICE I PAY FOR SEEING CHRIST 
 
 crushed by a glimpse of Calvary, overwhelmed b> 
 a flash of Olivet, dwarfed by a vision of Damascus. 
 The thorn which pierced his heart was a thorn in 
 the crown of Jesus. 
 
 O Thou who art the ideal of what I ought to 
 be, the ideal of what my Father would have me 
 to be, come into my soul and shine ! Give me 
 one glimpse of the brightness of Thy glory ! I 
 know it will send me, not peace, but a sword ; I 
 know it will strike me blind to all that I once 
 thought beautiful. I shall never again be 
 pleased with my singing when I have heard 
 Thy voice. I shall never again admire my 
 garments when I have seen Thy robe. I shall 
 never again prize my attainments when I have 
 discerned Thy splendour. What matter ! — come, 
 Lord Jesus ! At the price of my own humiliation, 
 come ! Though my flower of self-esteem shall 
 wither, though my pride of life shall fade, though 
 my peace of ignorance shall vanish, come ! 
 Though my ocean shall dwindle to a pool, though 
 my palace shall shrink into a hut, though my 
 silver shall be tarnished and my gold shall lose its 
 glow, come ! Come, though Thy shining be my 
 shadow ; come, though Thy presence be my 
 poverty; come, though the vision tell me I am 
 vile ! I would rather be humble in sight of the 
 119 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 stars than proud in lighting my tapers. It is 
 worth while to see my spots if I see them because 
 of sunshine. It is worth while to hear my dis- 
 cords if I hear them because of harmony. It is 
 worth while to find my darkness if I detect it by 
 finding day. The rending of the heart will not 
 ruffle me if it is rent by the dawning of Thy 
 Spirit. 
 
 120 
 
The Conflict of Spring and Autumn 
 
 " Many of the fathers, which were ancient men and had seen 
 the first house, wept with a loud voice ; and many shouted 
 aloud for joy."— Ezra hi. 12. 
 
 This is the earliest strife between the religious 
 conservative and the religious liberal. It was a 
 conflict of emotions. The old men and the young 
 men both looked at the new building; the old 
 wept and the young shouted. Youth clapped its 
 hands and cried, " What a magnificent temple ; 
 what an advance we have made on the days of 
 our fathers ! " Age wrung its hands and said, 
 " How are the mighty fallen ; what a contrast 
 between this poor modern fabric and the house 
 of long ago ! " They had both some reason on 
 their side, the old generation and the new. The 
 former could say, " The original house was built 
 by our own king and not by a foreigner." The latter 
 could reply, " Yes, but the very fact shows that 
 our faith is getting cosmopolitan." Yet neither 
 of them had the right of the question, because 
 neither of them had yet seen the final temple. 
 121 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 The final temple was coming ; it was Christ. It 
 was to unite the views both of the fathers and 
 of the children. It was to satisfy the old men, 
 because it was to be built by their own king ; it 
 was to satisfy the young, because it was to make 
 room for other lands. The two first temples were 
 only half-buildings — subjects for neither laughter 
 nor tears. The one was sacred to yesterday ; the 
 other was dedicated to the morrow. The one 
 was enshrined in memory; the other was con- 
 secrated to hope. The one glorified the past; 
 the other monopolised the future. The one sang 
 hymns to a vanished evening ; the other paid 
 its orisons to a prospective morning. But in 
 the temple of Christ there was to be a joining 
 of the hands ; memory and hope were to embrace 
 each other; the evening and the morning were 
 to be one day. 
 
 Ye fathers and ye children, I have a message 
 for you. Why dwell ye in camps apart as if youth 
 and age were irreconcilable things ! I would 
 have you shake hands on the battlefield ; I would 
 have age to catch the spirit of youth and youth to 
 acquire the reverence for age. Ye who have 
 looked upon a former temple and thought it all- 
 glorious, do not let retrospect banish prospect! 
 Fold hope in the arms of memory I Remember, 
 
 122 
 
THE CONFLICT OF SPRING AND AUTUMN 
 
 measured by the clock of eternity you, too, are 
 young. Yours should not be wholly a looking 
 back. Is not the world before you — the real 
 world, the larger world ! Are not there mansions 
 of your Father's house more splendid than any 
 temple you have seen ! Why should not yours 
 be the wing of the morning, the song of the lark, 
 the bud of the primrose ! Why should the new 
 and unexplored be foreign to you ! Are you not 
 on the very borders of the new, the very frontiers 
 of the unexplored ! You, of all men, should not 
 be unsympathetic to the spirit of youth. And ye 
 of the rising generation who are clapping your 
 hands over a novel piece of architecture, do not 
 let prospect banish retrospect ! Fold memory in 
 the arms of hope ! Remember, your very hope 
 is a gift from your fathers, an heirloom from the 
 past. Reverence that past ! Though you can no 
 longer wear its garments, let no ruthless hand 
 destroy them! Lay them by tenderly; wrap 
 them up carefully; keep them pure constantly; 
 let them be garments of the spirit even when the 
 body has outgrown them ! So shall the evening 
 and the morning meet. Age will become liberal 
 and youth conservative. Age will see the dawn 
 and youth will prize the twilight. Age will rise 
 on the wing and youth will seek the parent nest. 
 1^3 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Age will get the heart of a boy and youth the 
 stability of a senior. Age will have its forecast 
 visions and youth its retrospective dreams. Age 
 will look to the west and youth have its gaze on 
 the east. Age will greet us with the cry, ** Christ 
 is coming ! " and youth will surprise us with the 
 memory, " He has done all things well I *' 
 
 124 
 
The Qualification of a Servant 
 
 " I am Thy servant ; give me understanding, that I may know 
 Thy testimonies." — Ps. cxix. 125. 
 
 I SHOULD call this distinctively the servant's 
 prayer. At first sight it might seem that the 
 prayer of a servant should be more elementary. 
 It might seem that the simple duty of a servant is 
 to ask for orders. The psalmist has a different 
 view. To his mind the perfection of domestic 
 service is not the receiving but the forestalling of 
 orders — the providing for requirements before- 
 hand. ** Because I am a servant, give me 
 understanding, that I may know in advance 
 the things Thou hast need of — that I may 
 not require to wait for Thy verbal instructions 
 but may consider the wants of Thy house- 
 hold." That is the psalmist's meaning, and it 
 is founded on truth. For, in God's house as 
 in man's house, there are two ways in which 
 one may be a " good and faithful servant " — a 
 lower way and a higher way. The lower way is 
 that of the beginner. It is the waiting for every 
 
 125 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 detail. " What wouldst Thou have me to do this 
 day ? Shall I sweep three rooms or four ? Shall 
 I cleanse for the sanctuary six vessels or twelve ? 
 Shall I prepare for Thy house the same amount 
 that was consumed yesterday ? " So asks the 
 incipient servant. And in answer the heavenly 
 Father gives the details ; He issues ten command- 
 ments. But as yet He misses something in the 
 servant — that thing which the psalmist calls 
 understanding. He would be glad if the domestics 
 of His house would exercise judgment. He craves 
 in the servant a second stage of goodness and 
 faithfulness. Let us suppose that the Father 
 names four rooms of His sanctuary which require 
 sweeping. Let us suppose that on descending 
 from His presence the servant finds that in the 
 interval a fifth apartment has become soiled. 
 Would it not be desirable that in the mind of him 
 or her the understanding should supersede the 
 command. Is the fifth room to be left uncleaned 
 because there is no verbal enactment concerning 
 it ! Is there none of the Lord's servants with 
 discernment enough to improvise an eleventh 
 commandment — to satisfy God's will instead of 
 His mere law ! That is what the Father longs for, 
 that is what the psalmist prays for, that is what 
 the instincts of all hearts desire. 
 126 
 
THE QUALIFICATION OF A SERVANT 
 
 Lord, men of old have said, " Teach me Thy 
 law " ; rather shall my prayer be, " Teach me 
 Thy will." My voice shalt Thou hear in the 
 morning ; but it will be to suggest, not to receive, 
 orders. I should not like to come with the 
 inquiry, **To how many shall I minister this 
 day ? " Nay, my Father, rather would my voice 
 be this : " I cry to Thee from a land of shadows 
 where I listen to the sigh of the weary. I bear 
 these shadows on my heart up to Thy throne. 
 Wilt Thou grant me Thy grace to dispel them ! 
 Wilt Thou give me liberty to act for Thee without 
 command ! Wilt Thou let me serve Thine 
 interest where I see it in need ! Wilt Thou let 
 me keep Thy house in order where from Thee I 
 have received no order ! Wilt Thou permit me to 
 forestall Thy wants, to go beyond Thine expressed 
 desires! Wilt Thou give me a commission 
 without detail — a mandate to help where I see 
 heaviness, to brighten where I meet burdens, to 
 comfort where I find calamities, to free where I 
 encounter fetters, to protect where I recognise 
 poverty, to cheer where the atmosphere is chill ! 
 Such would I have my prayer to be. It is a small 
 thing to keep Thy precept; I would consult Thy 
 pleasure. It is a light thing to obey Thy word ; 
 I would minister to Thy will. It is an easy thing 
 127 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 to avoid breaking Thy law ; I would abstain from 
 violating Thy love. Those hired at the eleventh 
 hour wait for Thy morning orders ; I know Thy 
 mind now, I know Thy wish now. I can forestall 
 Thy wish. I can understand Thy heart. I can 
 provide in advance for the requirements of Thy 
 love. My service will be perfected when I shall 
 outrun Thy commandments. 
 
 128 
 
The Inadequacy of Spiritual Solitude 
 
 " The work is great and large, and we are separated upon the 
 wall, one far from another. In what place therefore ye hear 
 the sound of the trumpet, resort ye thither unto us." — 
 Neh. IV. 19, 20. 
 
 The great obstacle to the building of the old 
 Jerusalem was the distance in space between the 
 workmen : " We are separated upon the wall, one 
 far from another." The great obstacle to the 
 building of the new Jerusalem is also the distance 
 in space between the workmen. This latter state- 
 ment seems a paradox. We can understand how 
 a physical wall requires a vast company to build 
 it. But we have always taught ourselves to believe 
 that salvation is a personal matter and that its 
 wall must be constructed in solitude. We look 
 upon companionship as existing for outside things 
 — for the dance, for the orchestra, for the army, 
 for the field of politics. But when a man begins 
 to erect his own soul, we expect him to be alone 
 129 I 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 with God. We expect him to stand in the solitary 
 place and commune only with the King of Kings. 
 We are wrong ; not thus shall I be able to build 
 the walls of the new Jerusalem. The work of my 
 salvation is not a solitary process. It is a solemn 
 hour ; but it is the solemnity, not of silence, but 
 of crowdedness. I must summon into my sym- 
 pathy all the sons of men. I cannot build up the 
 virtues of my heart if I am thinking only of God. 
 Would I be humble; mine must be a humility 
 before man. Anyone could be humble before 
 God- It does not need a redeemed soul to shrink 
 in nothingness beneath the stars of night. But 
 to sink my interests before a brother, to refrain 
 from self-display in the presence of an inferior — 
 that is humility ! Would I be meek ; it must be 
 before man. I dare not answer God ; all flesh is 
 silent in His presence. But to be gentle with an 
 equal, to be soft with a dependant, to be lenient 
 with a fallen soul — that is meekness ! Would I 
 be charitable ; it must be before man, God needs 
 not my silver nor my gold ; they would add no 
 drop to His ocean. But, to clothe a brother's rags, 
 to soothe a sister's pain, to give the children bread, 
 to help the orphans' cry, to bind the broken heart 
 and comfort the wounded conscience — that is to 
 succour God, that is charity ! The walls of the 
 130 
 
THE INADEQUACY OF SPIRITUAL SOLITUDE 
 
 new Jerusalem must be built in the presence of 
 man. 
 
 My soul, when thou art building thy character, 
 
 summon into thy sympathy the sons of men ! Do 
 
 not dwell in the presence of God alone ! The 
 
 pillars of character have no value if they are only 
 
 reared before God. How shalt thou test the 
 
 decline of thy pride ? Shalt thou stand before the 
 
 smoke and fire of Sinai and beat upon thy breast 
 
 and say, ** Unclean " ? That were a poor victory 
 
 over pride — merely to confess that thy lamp is 
 
 weaker than the sunshine. But if thou wouldst 
 
 see the evidence of pride's decline, bring thy lamp 
 
 into the vicinity of a taper ! Come and stand 
 
 before the rags of a penitent ! Come and match 
 
 thyself with Magdalene ; come and pair thyself 
 
 with fallen Peter 1 Can pride die when thou art 
 
 standing on such a mountain as that ! Canst thou 
 
 feel thy sin in the presence of greater sinners ! 
 
 Canst thou beat upon thy breast in beholding one 
 
 beneath thee ; canst thou feel thy need of cleansing 
 
 in looking on one more meanly clad ! Then thou 
 
 hast the true beatitude ; thine is the kingdom of 
 
 heaven. It is easy to kill thy self-consciousness 
 
 in the valley — in the place where thou meetest 
 
 with God. But to kill it on thy mount, to destroy 
 
 it in thy strong point, to sink it in the place where 
 
 131 I 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 thou meetest thy forlorn brother or thy disgraced 
 sister — this will earn Thee the blessing of the 
 Lord. When thou hearest Christ's sermon, let it 
 be in the presence of the multitude; test thy 
 character by its power to stand before man I 
 
 132 
 
The Varicdness of the Divine Benevolence 
 
 "Thy manifold mercies."— Neh. ix. 19. 
 
 **Thy manifold mercies" does not mean the 
 same as " Thy many mercies." Mercies may be 
 numerous and yet not manifold. I may distribute 
 bread amid a whole multitude in a wilderness. In 
 this case my mercies have been numberless ; but 
 they have not been manifold. They have been all 
 of one kind — donation. Manifold mercy is mercy 
 which takes different forms. It is like manifold 
 architecture; it can build in opposite ways. I 
 think there are four forms of mercy known to man 
 — that which gives, that which refuses, that which 
 deprives, and that which prepares. To a thirsty 
 boy in good health you give a copious draught of 
 cold water ; to a fevered boy you deny it ; from a 
 delirious grasp you tear it ; finally, through heal- 
 ing remedies, you prepare for its administration 
 by-and-by. Now, amid God's infinite forms of 
 mercy, in relation to the cup of life He has these 
 four. There are times when He gives hberally, 
 133 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 when He says, " Drink abundantly." There are 
 other times in which our hps are parched with 
 fever — parched even while they pray. We cry for 
 the copious draught, and it does not come. If it 
 came, it would increase the heat of the blood ; and 
 our Father refuses to send it. There are times, 
 again, when the mere denial is not sufficient — 
 when the hand needs to be dispossessed. The 
 delirious patient has already grasped the cup, and 
 only a wrench will tear it from his hold. The 
 mercy of our Father gives that wrench. It seems 
 to the patient a harsh thing, a strange thing ; but 
 the deprivation is really a blessing. And, once 
 more, there are times in which, instead of the cup 
 we desire, our Father sends us things which we 
 do not desire — bitter medical draughts which are 
 very different from the looked-for water. Yet they 
 are meant to prepare us for the water. They are 
 sent to cool the fever and make us ready for the 
 copious draught to-morrow. They seem to mock 
 us by offering a crown of thorns instead of a crown 
 of gold ; but in reality they are a sanitary prepara- 
 tion for the coming with safety of that unstinted 
 supply which at present could only come with 
 danger. This, too, is the mercy of our Father. 
 
 My soul, thou art now under one of the manifold 
 mercies of God. I often hear thee say, " I am 
 
 134 
 
VARIEDNESS OF THE DIVINE BENEVOLENCE 
 
 under God's judgment." God's judgment is God's 
 judging — His decision of what is best. Has thy 
 prayer been denied thee. So was Israel's when 
 she came out of Egypt. She asked an entrance 
 into the Promised Land ; she was answered by 
 forty years in the wilderness. Was that judgment ! 
 It was sublime mercy. Was one just released 
 from a fever hospital fit for the arduous service of 
 the land of Canaan ? No ; the granting of her 
 prayer would have killed her. Has thy possession 
 been wrenched from thy hand. So was Judah's 
 when she was carried captive into Babylon. Was 
 that judgment ! It was her Father's mercy. In 
 her delirium of self-will she was grasping the 
 potion of her pride, and the poison was entering 
 into her soul ; was it not kind that the sick-nurse 
 Babylon should restrain her frantic arms ! Hast 
 thou received something bitter to drink instead of 
 the water thou hast desired ; has thine experience 
 seemed to mock thy prayer. So did John's. He 
 asked the right hand in the kingdom and received 
 in its place the cup of fiery baptism. Was that 
 judgment ! It was the mercy of his God. Wouldst 
 thou put an oar into the right hand of an invalid ; 
 he would miss the stroke on the ocean of God's 
 love. To the beloved disciple, to thee, the Father's 
 answer is not the gift, but the preparing for the 
 
 135 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 gift. He has laid up for thee a crown of glory. 
 Why " laid up " ? Because thou art not ready 
 for its wearing. Thou hast need to be healed ere 
 thou canst run and not be weary. Thou hast ne^d 
 of the waters of Marah ere thou canst taste the 
 grapes of Eshcol. Thou hast need of the bitters 
 of Babylon ere thou hast right to the liberty of the 
 tree of life. God's mercy may lie in thy sunshine ; 
 but methinks, O my soul, it is oftener found in thy 
 cloud. 
 
 136 
 
The Requisites for Perfect Joy 
 
 " Death and hell were cast into the lake of fire."— Rev. xx. 14. 
 
 There are, according to the Bible, two things 
 which make this world unhappy — disease of body 
 and imprisonment of soul. The former is here 
 expressed by the word " death," the latter by the 
 word " hell " or " Hades." The happiness of 
 heaven is said to lie, not in the addition of new 
 colours, but in the removal of these two obstructive 
 elements. Did it ever strike you how the joys of 
 the future life are always described as negative. 
 There is to be "no more sea," " no more curse," 
 ** no more pain," " no more sorrow," no ** shut 
 gates " because " no night." The men of the 
 coming city are to hunger no more, thirst no 
 more, be oppressed with heat no more, shed tears 
 no more. Whence this negative description of the 
 Christian's heaven ? Other religions painted their 
 paradise in added rays of beauty; why is the 
 Christian ideal merely the taking away of some- 
 thing ? I will tell you. It is because in the view 
 
 137 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 of Christianity this present world is not deficient 
 in perfect beauty ; it is prevented from enjoying its 
 beauty, and it is so prevented by these two things 
 — death and sin — the diseased body and the 
 imprisoned soul. I am thoroughly at one with 
 the evangelist in thinking that on its positive side 
 there is nothing wrong with the present world. 
 We are constantly reminded by the pulpit of our 
 sense of the insufficiency of this earthly life. For 
 my part I deny that I have this sense of insuffi- 
 ciency. I want nothing better than this world — 
 if it would last. What keeps it from lasting is the 
 presence of two things — death and sin. Death 
 steals my friends ; sin blights my friendships. The 
 one robs me of a presence ; the other bereaves me 
 of an ideal. I am told that earthly joys are 
 evanescent. No ; it is their objects that are 
 evanescent. I do not tire of my flowers; but 
 autumn withers them. I do not transfer my love ; 
 but sin destroys the identity of its object. St. 
 John tells us to love not the world ; but why ? 
 Not because it is bad, but because it is fleeting — 
 because it " passeth away." If something would 
 arrest its passing, if something would give it per- 
 manence, if something would endow it with 
 perpetual bloom, we should be able to say, " This 
 
 138 
 
THE REQUISITES FOR PERFECT JOY 
 
 And such, O Lord, is promised in the words, 
 " Death and hell were cast into the lake of fire." 
 Thou hai:t offered to destroy the two enemies to 
 my perfect enjoyment of beauty — the diseased 
 body and the imprisoned soul. I need no lovelier 
 fields, no fairer woods or flowers. I need no 
 sweeter harps, no lutes of richer tone. I need no 
 dearer ties than those which bind me to earth and 
 home. But my two enemies are sowing tares in 
 the field ; my two enemies are making discord in 
 the music ; my two enemies are loosing the earthly 
 ties. It is not to get free of earth I ask Thy 
 salvation ; it is to keep it, to preserve it, nay, for 
 the first time really to possess it. I often pray for 
 entrance into Thy heavenly glory; yet what I 
 should ask is entrance into Thine earthly glory. 
 The colours I love here are fit to be loved yonder 
 if they were only stripped of death and hell. Not 
 brighter bloom but more unfading bloom, not 
 fairer tints but more abiding tints, not lovelier 
 forms but more undying forms, is what my spirit 
 craves. Men speak of earthly vanity ; but its 
 vanity is its fleetingness. The defect of its 
 pleasures is that they vanish. Free them from 
 this vanity, O Lord! Redeem them from the 
 taint of perishableness ! Breathe into them Thine 
 own eternal life! Perpetuate them with Thy 
 
 139 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 presence, immortalise them with Thine indwell- 
 ing ! Make love lasting ; make friendship fadeless ; 
 make charity changeless ; make kindness constant ; 
 make warmth of heart winterless ; make delight in 
 beauty deathless ; make the taste for music tire- 
 less ; make the social hour sinless ! Our earth 
 will be Thy heaven when we have got rid of death 
 and hell. 
 
 140 
 
The Deepest Stage of Calamity 
 
 •' The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity ; but a wounded 
 spirit who can bear ? " — Prov. xviii. 14. 
 
 The idea is that a calamity affects us, not 
 according to the weight of the stroke, but accord- 
 ing to the state of our thoughts. The spirit of a 
 man is his mental state as distinguished from his 
 outward circumstances. The proverb says that 
 an outward misfortune influences the life, not in 
 proportion to its actual severity, but in proportion 
 to the resources of the mind. I am profoundly 
 convinced that this is true. Two men take a 
 fever at the same time ; one dies, the other 
 recovers. The popular view is that in the former 
 case the physical stroke was more powerful. Yet 
 in itself it may have been weaker. The man who 
 died may have succumbed to the fever because he 
 was down in spirit when the fever seized him. 
 Two men meet with a simultaneous bereavement. 
 One, though deeply grieved, is not overwhelmed ; 
 the other breaks his heart and sinks into the 
 grave. Shall we say that to the latter the stroke 
 141 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 was heavier than to the former ? No ; the differ- 
 ence Hes, not in the heaviness of the stroke, but 
 in the spot whereon it fell. It lies in the contrast 
 of their inward state. The n:an who outlives 
 his loss does so by reason of a strong hope — the 
 hope, nay, the sight, of a land beyond death's sea. 
 The man who is killed by his bereavement is so 
 killed by reason of an eclipse of hope — by reason 
 of a mental cloud which has obscured his rain- 
 bow of promise. That which prostrates us and 
 that which supports us is in every case, not a thing, 
 but a thought. We speak of the "ills which 
 flesh is heir to." I think we look for the black in 
 the wrong direction; we should say, the "ills 
 which spirit is heir to." All the crowning calami- 
 ties of life are in the thinking— not in the striking. 
 The crushing wound comes ever from within. 
 The friend who is separated from you by death 
 may be really less removed than the friend who 
 goes from you to a foreign country ; yet between 
 the two cases there is no comparison in the degree 
 of your sorrow. Why is this? It lies in the 
 thought. The foreign country has a name in your 
 heart ; the dwelling-place of the dead has as yet 
 no name. It is the idea that makes the difference 
 between separation and bereavement. Both equally 
 for the time miss " the touch of a vanished hand 
 142 
 
THE DEEPEST STAGE OF CALAMITY 
 
 and the sound of a voice that is still " ; but in the 
 one there is the hope of future communion, in 
 the other there may be a cloud which obscures 
 to-morrow's sky. 
 
 Therefore, O Father of Lights, show Thy light 
 within ! There lies the possibility of a mortal 
 wound — not in the storm, not in the cold, not in 
 the battle. Often have I been struck with the 
 picture of Thy Christ upon the sea. He walked 
 upon the raging waters and never sought to still 
 their raging till He reached the ship of human 
 life ; and then He spoke the mandate, not to the 
 waves, but to the soul : ** Peace ; be still ! " Often 
 have I asked, Why did He begin with the 
 seemingly least aggressive ? I see it now, O my 
 Father. I see that the stormiest spot is and has 
 ever been, not the wave, but the soul. I see that 
 it is my heart that first needs to receive the 
 mandate, ** Peace ; be still ! " I see that nothing 
 can submerge me if my spirit be not submerged. 
 Therefore it is for my soul that first I pray. It is 
 to me I would have Thee first say, " Peace ! " 
 Let Thy Christ put the rainbow in my heart ere it 
 is stretched across the flood ! The cloud of 
 to-day will not kill me if the sun of to-morrow 
 is clear; Hght to-morrow's sun, O Lord! The 
 bleakness of winter will not daunt me if my faith 
 
 143 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 makes the springtime near ; plant the faith of the 
 spring, O Lord ! The partings by death will not 
 chill me if the hope of reunion bring cheer ; shed 
 the hope of reunion, O Lord ! I can bear the 
 storm on the sea if the calm has entered my soul ; 
 Thy best comfort is the unwounded spirit. 
 
 144 
 
The Religious Ground of Light-heartedness 
 
 " Cast thy burden upon the Lord."— Ps. lv. 22. 
 
 There has always been in the world a great 
 admiration for carelessness. A young man has a 
 pride in saying, " I don't care." When a command 
 is imposed on him by a higher authority, he often 
 resists it ; but his main motive in the resistance is 
 to show the absence of care. When the advice of 
 a friend arrests him in a downward path, he 
 frequently brushes it aside ; but he is not so much 
 actuated by love of the downward path as by the 
 wish to appear reckless and free. Recklessness is 
 to him the synonym for manliness. Now, what is 
 it that in our young days makes this spirit to us 
 so attractive ? It is its apparent resemblance to 
 something which is really its contrary — the 
 rehgious life. There is such a thing as a 
 Christian absence of care — a freedom from weight, 
 anxiety, depression. But you will observe, it is 
 an absence of care, not an annulling of it. The 
 social epicurean tells his comrade to cast away his 
 145 ^ 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 burden ; the Christian tells his comrade, not to 
 cast it away, but to lay it somewhere else : " Cast 
 thy burden on the Lord." There is a very great 
 difference between the two commands. It is the 
 difference between throwing your money into the 
 sea and putting it in a bank beyond the possible 
 risk of failure. A Christian's care is always to 
 him his money — his treasure. He does not want 
 to lose it ; he would place it nowhere except in 
 hands where it had no chance of being neglected. 
 Let us say, for example, that you are anxious 
 about the future of your child. The social 
 epicurean will tell you, ** Live for the day ; do 
 not look forward ; enjoy the present hour and let 
 to-morrow shift for itself." But the Christian 
 will say : " You will best live for the present by 
 making to-morrow sure. If you want to enjoy 
 the hour you need not become cold to your child's 
 future — you need not even think less about it. 
 You have only to put to-morrow in other hands — 
 in safer hands— in God's hands. It is not forget- 
 fulness you need ; it is mindfulness without 
 mourning. It is not the trampling of care under 
 your feet, but the transference of care to another 
 bosom. Destroy it not, ignore it not, bury it not, 
 escape it not ; but take it up tenderly, fold it up 
 cautiously, and lay it on the heart of the Lord." 
 146 
 
RELIGIOUS GROUND OF LIGHT^HEARTEDNESS 
 
 O Thou who on the ocean of Thy love bearest 
 with their freight of care many ships that pass in 
 the night, I launch my laden soul in Thee. I 
 come not to get the world's peace — the peace of 
 emancipation from unselfish interests. I come to 
 get the opposite peace — Thy peace — the peace of 
 knowing that my unselfish interests are in safe 
 hands. I do not bid my burden good-bye when I 
 give it to Thee ; rather am I sure that I shall see 
 it again — made precious, glorified, transformed 
 into a weight of gold. If my boy has gone to sea, 
 I am not made peaceful because I have torn him 
 from my heart, but because on the sea I have 
 beheld Thine own footprints and I know he is 
 with Thee. I am light by reason of Thy weighted- 
 ness. I would not have my debts unpaid even if 
 I received a discharge. I should like to know 
 that somebody has taken up their weight. What 
 matters it to me that I am liberated if by my very 
 liberation my brother is rendered poor ! Will no 
 one make possible what is impossible to me ! 
 Will no one pay to my brother what I owe ! Will 
 no one fill up what I have left behind in deeds of 
 charity and love ! Thoti wilt, O Christ. I send 
 Thee to my waste places on the wings of the 
 morning. Finish what I have left in fragments ! 
 Build what I have not even begun ! Put Thy 
 147 K 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 hand on what I have passed by ! Kindle what I 
 have allowed to be cold ! Water the flowers I 
 have let wither ! Comfort the hearts I have not 
 consoled ! Rest the lives I have ruffled ! Beautify 
 the souls I have bruised ! Delight the spirits I 
 have made downcast ! Fan the embers whose 
 fires I have caused to fade ! I shall be free from 
 care when I have cast my burden on Thee, 
 
 148 
 
The Christian Palliation of Pain 
 
 " When they persecute you in this city, flee ye into another.' 
 — Matt. x. 23. 
 
 The days of persecution are past ; has this text 
 lost its meaning? No, it is to my mind the 
 revelation of an eternal fact — a fact which dis- 
 tinguishes Christianity from all other reHgions. 
 Christ's remedy for the immediate pressure of 
 grief is one peculiarly His own. Consider the 
 remedies proposed by some other faiths. The 
 Buddhist says : ** When you are oppressed by any 
 sorrow, think how all your desires will be stilled 
 in death." The Brahman says : *' When you are 
 oppressed by any sorrow, remember how all finite 
 things are illusions." The Stoic says: *'When 
 you are oppressed by any sorrow, keep your mind 
 on things that suppress emotion." The Jew says : 
 " When you are oppressed by any sorrow, seek 
 out and expiate the sin you have committed." 
 Christ says none of these things. His recom- 
 mendation is : " When you are oppressed by any 
 sorrow, rest your thoughts as much as possible 
 149 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 upon some joy that remains ; when you are per- 
 secuted in one city, flee into another." I think 
 that we of modern days need this text as much 
 as any in the Bible. Our danger in grief is that 
 of forgetting our untouched joys. We have all 
 some city of refuge — some spot left green. Christ 
 says our first duty is to flee thither. He says we 
 shall be better able to remedy any stroke of 
 fortune if in the first instance we seek comfort 
 in another direction. He practised this Himself 
 in His cures. A paralytic came to be healed; 
 Jesus said, " Thy sins be forgiven thee." Was 
 not that irrelevant — to promise a man forgiveness 
 of sin who wanted cure for paralysis ? Yes, but 
 in the irrelevancy lay the beauty. The best 
 prelude to curing a man's paralysis is to get him 
 over to the sunny side of the street — to fix his 
 mind upon an actually existing joy. So, too, when 
 Christ tells the labouring and laden in body that 
 He will give them rest to their souls, it seems an 
 irrelevancy ; but it is not. What better prelude 
 to a medical cure than a flash of sunshine in the 
 soul ; what better preparation for a physical im- 
 provement than a state of inward rest ! Our 
 Lord would have us first get out from the 
 persecuted into the unpersecuted city and brace 
 ourselves for struggle by an hour of peace. 
 
 150 
 
THE CHRISTIAN PALLIATION OF PAIN 
 
 I thank Thee, O Lord, that Thy cure for pain 
 is gladness. All human teachers have sought to 
 add to my pain. In my hour of sorrow I will 
 not go to any of these. I will not go to the 
 Buddhist — to be reminded that I am a dying 
 creature. I will not go to the Brahman — to be 
 told that life is an illusion. I will not go to the 
 Stoic — to be taught that emotion is vain. I will 
 not go to the Jew — to be informed I must expiate 
 a secret sin. Unto whom can I go but unto 
 Thee; Thou alone meetest my sorrow with the 
 words of life. All others meet it with the words 
 of death. When I come to them with my pain 
 they refer me for refuge to another pain. But 
 Thou healest my pain by a joy. Thou remindest 
 me of a spot of sunshine which I have overlooked. 
 Thou puttest into my hand the key of doors 
 which I have neglected to unlock. Thou showest 
 me green meadows which I have passed unheeded 
 by. Thou pointest me to gems which I have 
 dropped on the road and which are waiting to 
 be gathered. Thou sayest, " Consider how many 
 lilies of the field still grow, how many birds of 
 the air still sing." Thou wouldst have me 
 remember the blessings that are unblighted, the 
 refuges that remain, the comforts that yet crown 
 me. Thou wouldst have me know the wealth 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 that is unwasted, the pastures that are preserved; | 
 
 the friends that are not faded. Thou wouldst | 
 have me note how much worse things might have 
 
 been — how many blasts did not blow, how many i 
 
 seas did not swell, how many clouds did not ' 
 
 cluster. Thou wouldst have me learn in my city i 
 
 of persecution to count the cities which have j 
 
 not been persecuted. I 
 
 152 
 
The Christianas Highest Reward 
 
 "The righteous shall be recompensed in the earth." — 
 Prov. XI. 31. 
 
 I UNDERSTAND the emphatic words to be, " in 
 the earth." There never had been any doubt 
 about the final reward of the righteous ; but there 
 were evidently some who were beginning to say : 
 " It must be reserved for another world ; this 
 earth of ours is indifferent to moral distinctions." 
 The writer of this proverb cries, " No ; my reward 
 will be here." I do not think he meant that it 
 must come in his present life. Remember, the 
 Jew held that he was to come back to this earth 
 again on the Resurrection Morning. The whole 
 point of the passage is that, either now or here- 
 after, either to-day or to-morrow, the righteous 
 man will see the rectification of things below — 
 the crooked made straight, the rough places made 
 plain, the mountains abased and the valleys 
 exalted. I doubt if a son of Israel would have 
 thanked you for the fairest flowers and the loveliest 
 woods in a world divorced from earthly memories ; 
 
 ^53 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 his whole notion of immortality was the future 
 glorifying of his present actions. And I believe 
 that this is also the immortal hope of every 
 Christian. Did you ever ask yourself, What is 
 that recompense which a Christian saint desires ? 
 Is it a paradise in the seventh heaven which the 
 tumult of earth will not reach ? Is it a flight to 
 regions unknown and at present unknowable ? Is 
 it the wearing of foreign purple and the hearing 
 of foreign music and the engagement in foreign 
 embassies ? A Christian in the future life may 
 occasionally have all these things ; but he will 
 deem none of them his recompense. What he 
 wants is not a redemption from the past but a 
 redemption of the past. He seeks a river clear 
 as crystal ; but he seeks it in the muddy haunts 
 of time — "in the midst of the street." He 
 desires a tree whose leaves are life-giving ; but he 
 wants it for ** the healing of the nations." He 
 craves a song of exquisite melody ; but its subject 
 is to be the glory of a human cross — " worthy is 
 the Lamb that was slain." He searches for a 
 precious emerald ; but he does so in a rainbow of 
 earthly tears. He longs to be able to cry, " Who 
 are these that are arrayed in white robes ? " but 
 the answer he would like to receive is this : ** These 
 are they that came out of great tribulation." 
 
THE CHRISTIAN'S HIGHEST REWARD 
 
 Lord, wherever my spirit may dwell hereafter, 
 the recompense I seek for my present deed is that 
 the earth may be blessed in it. I gave a coin 
 yesterday to a tattered woman, and she invoked 
 all Thy chariots of blessing to descend upon me. 
 She thought she was drawing profusely on Thy 
 stores; to me, what she asked of Thee seemed 
 inadequate. It was not treasure from above that 
 I wanted from Thee ; it was treasure from below. 
 I wished some day to find that my coin had been 
 a turning-point in this woman's fortune — that it 
 had given her new hope, new comfort, new 
 courage, new belief in man, new confidence in 
 Thee. For any good I do, O my Father, it is 
 earth that I should like to be recompensed. I 
 plant not my seed in the dust that a flower may 
 spring elsewhere. It is this spot I would have 
 Thee deck with glory. I would have the fir-tree 
 come forth in the place where the thorn grew ; I 
 would have the myrtle wave in the soil where the 
 briar was expected. No unearthly wreath would 
 compensate me for a life of devotion to Thy poor. 
 It is my devotion I would see wreathed — the result 
 of my labours, the travail of my soul. Sanctify 
 my sacrifices, O Lord ! Give weight to my words 
 of counsel ; preserve my promptings of comfort ; 
 re-echo my rousings to penitence ! May my 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 charity bring moral cheer ; may my sympathy j 
 
 bring inward strength ; may my kindness bring j 
 
 life's rekindling! May I expel one drunkard's i 
 
 demon ; may I heal one profligate's pollution ; j 
 
 may I restore one fainter's faith ; may I brighten ! 
 
 one wanderer's way ; may I call one hapless spirit -j 
 
 home ! Then shall mine be the most perfect of 1 
 
 all recompenses — the recompense on earth I ' 
 
 156 
 
The Illuminating: Power of Righteousness 
 
 "The sun of righteousness shall arise with healing in his 
 wings." — Malachi iv. 2. 
 
 There is nothing which illuminates this world 
 like the vision of righteousness, and therefore there 
 is nothing which heals doubt like that vision. The 
 reason is that only in the vision of righteousness do 
 I learn my superiority to Nature. Every other 
 vision dwarfs me. The glor}- of the natural sun 
 makes me pale. The vastness of the mighty 
 firmament makes me humble. The flash of the 
 lightning makes me tremble. The height of the 
 mountain makes me shrink. The depth of the ocean 
 makes me feel shallow. The sight of disease and 
 death make me identify myself with the flower that 
 fades and the bird that dies. But when I see a 
 righteous man I see something at variance with 
 natural law — Professor Huxley himself tells me 
 so. The law of Nature, the law of Evolution, is 
 the survival of the strongest. But the law of 
 Righteousness is the refusal of the strongest to 
 survive at the expense of the weakest. It is the 
 
 157 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 insistence of the strong to share the life of the 
 weak — to appropriate their burdens, to wear their 
 infirmities. It is a law which never could have 
 been made by physical nature, which interferes with 
 physical nature, which in this sense is SM/)^rnatural. 
 My vision of a righteous man is fitted to heal all my 
 scepticism. It tells me that a human life is some- 
 thing unique, something revolutionary, something 
 above the common clay. It tells me that a human 
 soul can do what even the stars cannot do — make a 
 new law which will override the old. It tells me 
 that, with all its seeming insignificance, the little 
 stream in the heart of a man has outweighed the 
 wonder of the whole ocean — has turned the down- 
 ward into an upward current and led the way to a 
 higher plane. The righteous man is no longer a 
 cipher. He was born a cipher, like the leaves and 
 the grass. But he has reversed the order of 
 science. He has made a new law — the death of 
 the strong for the weak. He has arrested the first 
 course of Nature. He has said : ** You shall no 
 longer live for self-preservation, but for the preser- 
 vation of others." He has made the winds his 
 missionaries, the mines his almoners, the seas 
 his road to brotherhood, the steam his flag of 
 union, the electricity his voice of fellowship, the 
 light a framer of his neighbour's image, the heat a 
 158 
 
ILLUMINATING POWER OF RIGHTEOUSNESS 
 
 warmer of his neighbour's hearth, the herb a 
 soother of his neighbour's pain. The sacrificial 
 man is the man that has conquered Nature; the 
 vision of righteousness heals my despair. 
 
 Son of Man, Thou hast illumined my hope. 
 Men, even good men, have underrated Thine 
 illumination. They have sought it only on the 
 brow of Olivet. To me the brightest proof of 
 immortal life is Thy Calvary. To me Thy rising 
 is less wonderful than Thy righteousness. In Thy 
 rising Thou hast escaped Nature; but in Thy 
 righteousness Thou hast conquered Nature. In 
 Thy rising Thou has shown that material forces 
 could not hold Thee; but in Thy righteousness 
 Thou hast held them. Nature had cried, " Let the 
 weak go to the wall, let the feeble fade, let the 
 degenerate die ! " Thou saidst, " Nay, it shall 
 not be so." Thou hast borne on Thy bosom what 
 Nature has passed by. Thou hast gathered the 
 fragments she has cast like rubbish to the void. 
 Thou hast brought the destitute from the desert ; 
 Thou hast called the tainted from the tombs; 
 Thou hast raised the squahd from the swine; 
 Thou hast freed the blind from their bars ; Thou 
 hast washed the leper from his loathsomeness; 
 Thou hast lifted the palsied from their prostration ; 
 Thou hast relieved the halt from their helplessness ; 
 
 159 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Thou hast rescued the turbulent from their tossing 
 on the sea. I need not wait for Easter Morn to 
 see my immortality. That morning when I met 
 Thee carrying Thy cross, that midday when I 
 found Thee waiting at Samaria's well, that evening 
 when I saw Thee breaking to man his bread, I 
 knew that earth was passed and a new world 
 begun. 
 
 i6g 
 
Latent Piety 
 
 *' With joy unspeakable and full of glory.**— i Peter i. 8. 
 
 The climax of every emotion is silence. The 
 climax of anger is not the thunder, not the earth- 
 quake, not the fire, not even the still small voice ; 
 it is the absence of any voice at all; we say 
 habitually, " He was speechless with rage." The 
 climax of grief is not the cry, not the shriek, not 
 the paroxysm ; it is the numbness, the deadness, 
 the torpor, the insensibility to all around. The 
 poet tells how a bereaved wife in seeing her 
 ** warrior dead " neither swooned nor cried. She 
 was in the climax of grief — silence ; to bring her 
 down from the climax she had to be made to 
 weep. And the climax of praise or joy is silence. 
 Let me put a question. When did you experience 
 most difficulty in expressing your admiration of a 
 thing? Was it not when you were thoroughly 
 carried away with rapture ! A girl plays a 
 piece of music with great brilliancy. She receives 
 gushing compliments from all but one. That one 
 i6i L 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 has been sitting in rapt attention all the time of 
 the performance, yet at the close he only says, 
 " Thank you." I should esteem his the greatest 
 praise of all. His silence comes from the "joy 
 unspeakable " — from an admiration too deep for 
 words, too high for compliments, too intense for 
 plaudits. Now, the climax of the praise of God is 
 of this description. Carlyle has said, " Speech is 
 silver, but silence is golden." I think the harps in 
 the new Jerusalem are never so golden as when 
 nobody strikes their chords. Did you ever ask 
 yourself when it was that according to the Book 
 of Revelation there was "silence in heaven for 
 the space of half an hour." It was when the 
 seventh seal was opened and the prayers of the 
 saints ascended as incense to the Father. In 
 other words, the moment of silence was the 
 moment of ecstatic praise ; thanksgiving expressed 
 itself in speechless adoration. There are members 
 of the choir invisible who at times cannot sing — 
 not because they have hung their harps upon the 
 willows, but because they see no willows on which 
 to hang them ; they are too full of joy to sing ; the 
 fulness of their joy makes it unspeakable. 
 
 My soul, do not underrate thyself because thou 
 art a silent member of God's choir ! There are 
 those that can lead in prayer ; there are those 
 162 
 
LATENT PIETY 
 
 that can expound Scripture ; there are those 
 that can sing to the sick ; there are those that 
 can teach Sunday-schools. Honour their gift of 
 speech, esteem it, reverence it ! But never forget 
 that there is also a gift of silence ! I have read 
 that the light struck Saul of Tarsus blind; 
 remember, the same light may have struck thee 
 dumb. There is a love which cannot tell its 
 dearest of the depth that lies within it. It feels 
 that any speech would be so inadequate as to be 
 equivalent to denial; therefore it keeps silent. 
 Hast thou pondered the comfort of the thought 
 that the Father " seeth in secret." I know thou 
 hast pondered the terror of the thought. I have 
 heard thee say a thousand times, ** What an 
 awful reflection it is that the sins which men do 
 not see are open to the eye of my Father I " Yes, 
 but what of the virtues men do not see ! 
 Remember, there is an unspoken goodness as well 
 as an unspoken evil. Thou hast powers within 
 thee for which the world gives thee no credit. 
 Thou hast love which cannot la\ s'l itself; trust 
 which cannot tell itself ; sympathy which cannot 
 shed itself. Thou hast a fervour that does not 
 flow, a gladness that does not glow, a strength 
 that does not show. Thy rose is underground; 
 thy goodness is unfound ; thy music has no sound. 
 163 L 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Can there be any greater rest than the faith in 
 the All-seeing, All-hearing ! The light thou canst 
 not radiate has been reflected. The enthusiasm 
 thou canst not articulate has been re-echoed. 
 The love thou canst not imprint on the canvas 
 has been photographed on the air of heaven, and 
 thy joy, though unspeakable, is full of glory. 
 
 164 
 
The Sweetening of the Mind in Sorrow 
 
 " Lest any root of bitterness trouble you."— Heb. xii. 15. 
 
 There is a great difference between feeling a 
 thing deeply and feeling a thing bitterly ; in other 
 words, between the waters of affliction and the 
 waters of Marah. I would express the difference 
 by saying that in the waters of bitterness there is 
 always more or less a sense of having received 
 personal injustice. A man may endure the deepest 
 grief not only without a sense of injustice, but 
 with a firm conviction that he has deserved it ; 
 I should call these tears the waters of penitence. 
 Or he may endure deep grief with a firm convic- 
 tion that he will see light some day ; I should 
 call these tears the waters of the cup of Geth- 
 semane. But there is a third way in which 
 he may meet sorrow ; he may see his own 
 image in the stream and weep over it ; I 
 should call these tears the waters of Marah 
 or bitterness. I should define the feeling of bitter- 
 ness as *' self-pity." It is sorrow for oneself as 
 
 165 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 distinguished from grief for a catastrophe. It is 
 a sense of personal injury, of unjust humiliation, 
 of individual wrong received. When a man gets 
 this feeling he abandons everything; like Esau, 
 he sells his birthright. He gives up the race of 
 life — refuses to run in a competition where, 
 according to him, nobody gets justice. There have 
 been more men lost to the world by a sense of 
 personal injury than by all the sorrows of time 
 which originated in other causes. The bereave- 
 ment of Bethany may in itself help Martha's 
 work ; but she will be apt to abandon all work if 
 she is allowed to say, " Lord, if Thou hadst been 
 here my brother had not died " — for that is bitter- 
 ness. It is this bitterness, this tendency to self- 
 pity, that more than all other states of mind the 
 Bible is eager to counteract. That is why before 
 even healing a calamity it seeks to sweeten the 
 mind of the sufferer. That is why it gives the 
 preliminary address to the afflicted one, " Son, 
 daughter, be of good cheer ! " That is why before 
 the cure it puts the question, " Hast thou faith to 
 be healed ? " That is why it sends the wages 
 before the work is done, and ere the prodigal 
 has time to feel his humility greets him with the 
 music and the dance, the ring and the robe. 
 
 Lord, save me from self-pity — the root of 
 i66 
 
THE SWEETENING OF THE MIND IN SORROW 
 
 bitterness ! There is only one way in which I can 
 be saved from pitying myself — by the power to 
 pity others. I see the prophet Elijah in great 
 spiritual danger, because in danger of bitterness. 
 He is complaining in Thy presence that he alone 
 has served Thee, and that he alone has suffered. 
 And I hear Thine answer to his complaining: 
 ** Yet I have left me seven thousand in Israel who 
 have not bowed the knee to Baal." It is as if 
 Thou hadst said, " Elijah, do not pity yourself ! 
 Do not say that you are the only sufferer in Israel ! 
 You are one of seven thousand. Why in the 
 contemplation of your own case do you forget the 
 seven thousand ! Why do you feel only your 
 personal pain ? Transform your self-pity into 
 pity for the seven thousand ! Lift the burden of 
 the multitude ! Come out from your own cave ! 
 Cease to think only of yourself and your individual 
 sorrows ! Throw yourself into the bosom of 
 humanity ! and the bitterness will vanish." My 
 Father, may I ever hear that voice of Thine, for 
 in it Thou art speaking to me ! I am complaining 
 in my little cave of the thunder and earthquake 
 and fire. I am forgetting that there are seven 
 thousand outside to whom the thunder also rolls, 
 to whom the earth also trembles, to whom the 
 fire also brings pain. Wake me into their sorrow, 
 167 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 O Lord ! Show me not merely the cup, but its 
 passing from hand to hand! Let bitterness be 
 lost in brotherhood ! Let frettedness be lost in 
 fellowship ! Let personal soreness be lost in 
 sympathy! May the anger be sunk in the anthem, 
 the complaint drowned in the concord, the 
 rebellious spirit stilled in the symphony of 
 kindred souls ! Then will it be with me as with 
 Job — my bitterness will be healed when I have 
 prayed for my friends. 
 
 i68 
 
The Condition Requisite for Divine 
 Outpouring 
 
 " When the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all 
 with one accord in one place." — Acts ii. x. 
 
 When you ask the outpouring of any gift by 
 God, there is one thing you must carefully con- 
 sider — whether you are asking in harmony with 
 the universal need. As a preliminary to all prayer 
 you must stand "in one place" with humanity, 
 must be of one heart with your brother man. 
 The gift of God will not descend upon any soul 
 as long as that soul views itself as a mere indivi- 
 dual. On the very threshold of prayer you must 
 be able to say, " Our Father, which art in heaven." 
 If you start with the invocation, " My Father,'* 
 you have no guarantee that you are praying in 
 accord with your brethren. I hear men distin- 
 guish between prayer for secular things and prayer 
 for spiritual things. It is a true distinction ; but 
 it does not lie where it is thought to lie. Two 
 men go up into the temple to pray. The one 
 says, " I am told that prayer is an omnipotent 
 i5g 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 power; let me ask something which will be an 
 advantage to myself. I will ask God to make me 
 a great preacher of the Gospel. It would be a 
 grand thing to have the crowds flocking after me 
 — to be the admired of all observers, to see the 
 sons of fortune swayed by me, the daughters of 
 beauty and fashion hanging on my words ; I must 
 beseech my Father for that boon." Now, the gift 
 this man desires is a purely inward one. It is an 
 increase of intellect, emotion, fervour, passion, 
 poetic power. And yet he is about to offer a 
 purely secular prayer. He is not standing **in 
 one place " with his brother man. He is not con- 
 sidering how his preaching gift will affect the 
 masses; he is contemplating only how it will 
 influence himself. He has asked an enrichment 
 of the spirit ; but it is for the benefit of the flesh. 
 He would be content to sacrifice much of the 
 world to gain his object; yet his object is itself 
 worldly, individual, personal. The second man in 
 the temple says, " The thing I should like above 
 all others is riches. How I desire to be rich ! 
 What good I could do with money ! How many 
 hearts could I cheer, how many homes could I 
 comfort ! I could clothe poverty, I could soothe 
 pain, I could dispel ignorance, I could spread 
 missions, I could build churches, I could lodge 
 170 
 
CONDITION FOR DIVINE OUTPOURING 
 
 outcasts; give me wealth, O Lord!" Here is a 
 prayer for a purely outward thing — a thing which 
 is commonly viewed as the world's leading symbol. 
 Yet the prayer is intensely spiritual, sacred, divine. 
 The man has said, ** Our Father." He is thinking 
 of the common need. He utters a cry for his 
 race. He asks power, not to blaze, but to bless. 
 He stands in the public place and prays for Man. 
 O Thou who hearest from whatever spot it may 
 be uttered the cry of Thine own Spirit, in my 
 hour of prayer make Thy Spirit mine ! May it be 
 the Spirit of Pentecost — the speaking of a com- 
 mon tongue ! Let me stand in the place where 
 humanity stands; make my cry an echo! Let 
 me measure my prayer, not by what I ask, but by 
 whom I ask it for I I would not be a privileged 
 soul. I would not stand upon the hill and bask 
 amid Thy sunbeams if my brother were down in 
 the shadows. I think the light would blind me if 
 it were seen by me alone. Could I walk even 
 through this present world if I alone were pos- 
 sessed of sight ! Nay, my Father ; its sun would 
 smite me ; its woods would wound me ; its flowers 
 would fret me; its trees would torture me; its 
 brooks would bruise me; its rivers would wring 
 my heart ; its oceans would overflow with my 
 pity; its hills would be heavy with my grief; its 
 171 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 stars would be stains on my comfort ; its rainbow 
 would be a reflex of my tears. I can understand 
 my Lord's cry to Thee, " Father, I will that these 
 whom Thou hast given me be with me where I 
 am, that they may behold my glory." I, like 
 Him, would have no exclusive glory, I, like Him, 
 would be one with my brethren. I, like Him, 
 would pray, " Give us our daily bread." I, like 
 Him, would desire no cup which I could not pass 
 from hand to hand. I, like Him, would empty 
 myself of every joy till the servant's form had 
 shared it. Let this mind be in me which was also 
 in Christ Jesus ; let me stand " in one place " with 
 my brother man I 
 
 172 
 
The Mark for Recognising God^s Peace 
 
 " Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed 
 on Thee." — Is a. xxvi. 3. 
 
 It is not said, " Thou wilt keep him in perfect 
 peace whose mind is stayed." There is nothing in 
 mere movelessness which is suggestive of peace. 
 A mind may be motionless without being rested ; 
 nay, it may be motionless by reason of its unrest. 
 What, for example, is the numbness of despair but 
 just a mind which has been deprived of movement 
 by its own unrest. Grief by its excess has stopped 
 the pulses of feeling ; fear has paralysed energy ; 
 inward struggle has ended in inward exhaustion. 
 Or what, again, is the calm of satiety but just a 
 deadness produced by unrest. Passion has been 
 worn out by the strength of its own pinion ; the 
 sense of pleasure has been blunted by the excess of 
 its own exercise. In the peace of a human soul 
 everything depends on the thing which fastens it. 
 There are various kinds of fastenings by which a 
 spirit may be bound. It may be bound by sleep ; 
 it may be bound by apathy ; it may be bound by 
 
 173 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 old age. The peace of which the psalmist speaks 
 is that of a soul bound by God ; its perfection lies 
 in the fact that it is stayed on something which is 
 itself constantly moving. What would be the 
 difference between a soul bound to a rock and a 
 soul bound to a star? The soul fastened to the 
 rock would be stationary ; the soul fastened to the 
 star would be ever on the wing. That is the 
 difference between the peace of God and the 
 world's peace. The world's peace is a standing 
 still ; God's is a moving on. The world's peace is 
 silence ; God's is a living voice. The world's 
 peace is a sedative; God's is a flash of high 
 spirits. The world's peace is languor after toil; 
 God's is inspiration of strength to begin toil. The 
 world's peace is in the wilderness ; God's is on the 
 waves of life's sea. The world's peace dulls pain 
 by diminishing the power to feel ; God's dulls pain 
 by news of coming joy. To be stayed by God is 
 to be stayed not by death but by life, not by 
 exhaustion but by energy, not by folding the 
 hands but by spreading the sails to reach a wider 
 sphere. The peace of God descends on every man 
 as it descended on Jesus — in the midst of the 
 waters. 
 
 Come to my waters, O Dove of Inward Rest ; 
 it is there I would be stayed by Thee. The peace 
 
 174 
 
THE MARK FOR RECOGNISING GOI^S PEACE 
 
 which Thou bringest is the only peace for me just 
 because it can exist upon the waters. There is a 
 peace which is only for the wilderness— for the 
 hour of solitude, for the place where man is not. 
 But my life is not spent in the wilderness, is not 
 meant to be spent there. Its dwelHng is among 
 rocks ; its home is the place of waves. No peace 
 can keep me which does not meet me there and 
 abide with me there. I remember that Divine 
 aspiration of my Lord, " I pray not that Thou 
 wouldst take them out of the world." He did not 
 want me to be removed from the waters of con- 
 flict; He knew that my moral Hfe was there. 
 What He desired for me was something to comfort 
 me on the waters, to keep me afloat, to hold me 
 firm. Therefore, my Father, my prayer shall be 
 that Thy heavens shall be opened on the banks of 
 Jordan — that river where the multitude meet, 
 where the crowds bathe. May Thy holy dove 
 descend in the place of concourse, in the scene of 
 conflict ! Send Thy peace where my heart pul- 
 sates—not where it is still! Send Thy calm 
 where my life is crowded— not where it is un- 
 trammelled ! Send Thy rest where I am running 
 —not where I am asleep! Send Thy strength 
 where I am struggling— not where I am listless ! 
 Send Thy joy where things are jarring— not where 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 monotony reigns ! Send Thy light to the heart 
 that is laden, Thy song to the soul that is sightless, 
 Thy wing to the life that is weary. Thy rest to the 
 bosom that is ruffled, Thy hope to the step that 
 is heavy. Thy faith to the mind that is faint ! I 
 shall know the peace to be from Thee when it 
 comes to me on the waters. 
 
 Z76 
 
The Love that is not Irascible 
 
 ♦* Charity is not easily provoked." — i Cor. xiii. 5. 
 
 Paul is speaking of Christian love as contrasted 
 with romantic love. The peculiarity of romantic 
 love is that it is very easily provoked indeed. It 
 is the victim of constant jealousy. It is really 
 the love of one's self— the love of being loved; 
 and any smile bestowed upon another arouses its 
 indignation. But Christian love has nothing to 
 do with the wish to be loved again and therefore 
 nothing to do with jealousy. It seeks no return 
 for its own sake — only for Christ's sake. If there 
 is no response to my efforts after your moral 
 benefit, there is on my part regret, but no 
 personal enmity. I lament a failure in the influ- 
 ence of the Kingdom of God, but not a failure in 
 my own power of attraction; Christian love is 
 "not easily provoked." Yet I would not have 
 you think the reason to be the proverbial one that 
 love is blind. Romantic love is often bUnd to the 
 moral fault of its object, Christian love never. 
 177 M 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 The feeling of which Paul speaks is one which 
 sees faults magnified — sees them not as they are, 
 but as, if not checked, they will come to be. 
 There is no eye so trained to detect faults as the 
 eye of pure affection. The stranger may see only 
 a symmetrical building ; but he who watches for 
 your soul will detect irregularities in the work- 
 manship and discover flaws in the structure. 
 Why, then, is Christian love not easily provoked ; 
 if the faults are more patent to it, why is not the 
 perceiving heart more ruffled? It is because 
 Christian love can do something which nothing 
 else in the world can do; it can repeat the 
 incarnation of the Master. Paul says that Christ 
 took " the likeness of sinful flesh " — put Himself 
 in the circumstances of those who have gone 
 astray. Every Christian is in this respect made 
 to follow his Lord. When a man gets the love of 
 Christ he has to empty himself of his own glory. 
 He has to cast himself down from the pinnacle of 
 his temple into the roar of street and alley, the 
 struggle for bread, the conflict for survival, the 
 storm and stress of life. He has to cast himself 
 down into his brother's environment — to feel his 
 weakness, to experience his helplessness, to 
 measure the strength of his temptations. He has 
 to cast himself down into the stream of his 
 178 
 
THE LOVE THAT IS NOT IRASCIBLE 
 
 brother's heredity — to learn the power of long- 
 seated corruption, to estimate the force of an 
 impure fountain. That is why Christian love is 
 not easily provoked. Before it sees the fault it 
 feels the frailty; before it marks the waste it 
 measures the wave; before it apportions the 
 blame it allows for the influence of ancestral 
 blood. 
 
 Lord, in the sight of human sin I am often 
 stirred to the cry for vengeance. One of Thy 
 disciples tells me that there were men in heaven 
 who said, " How long dost Thou not avenge 
 Thine own elect ! " and he adds, " There were 
 given unto them white robes." When I am thus 
 provoked I too need Thy white robe — the robe of 
 love. I shall never cease to be provoked until I 
 get love's power — power to incarnate the self in 
 the lives of the lower. Give me that power, O 
 God ! As Thou hast sent Thy Son, even let Him 
 send me ! Let me live for one hour in the experi- 
 ence of those beneath me ! Let me be clothed in 
 their humility, let me put on their weakness ! 
 Give me a moment in their manger, a day in their 
 desert, a step on their stormy sea ! Give me a 
 sense of their faintness as they rebel against their 
 cross on the Dolorous Way ! Give me a sense of 
 their privation as they yield to a voice saying, 
 
 179 M 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 ** Command that the stones be made bread ! '* 
 Give me a sense that the flesh is weak and the 
 burden strong, that the will is wayward and the 
 temptation keen, that the ship is small and the 
 sea tempestuous ! Let me live in the heart of the 
 humble ; let me dwell in the soul of the sightless ; 
 let me walk in the lair of the leper ; let me tread 
 in the den of the demoniac ; let me consider the 
 friendlessness of the fallen before they fell ! Then 
 shall I bear on my breast the world's sin; then 
 shall my spirit be provoked no more. 
 
 i8o 
 
The Directing of the Early Mind 
 
 "They brought young children to Him, that He should touch 
 them." — Mark x. 13. 
 
 "That He should touch them" — not simply 
 " that they should touch Him." This latter was 
 quite unnecessary. Touching is the metaphor for 
 influence. There was no difficulty in the heart of 
 Jesus being touched by the children ; but it was 
 extremely difficult to arrange that the heart of the 
 children should be touched by Jesus. It is easy 
 for the developed mind to understand the child — 
 the developed mind has itself been a child and 
 retains a memory of its beginning. But it is not 
 at all easy for the child to understand the 
 developed mind — that is a stage still in its future. 
 Yet it is by higher models that the child must be 
 touched if it is to have any mental growth. It is 
 not enough that it should be thrown into the 
 company of its equals. Two children of equal 
 age and capacity might play for ever in the 
 Garden of Eden without rising a step higher, if 
 there were not heard betimes a more mature voice 
 181 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 walking through the garden in the cool of the day. 
 And I would add that, the more mature the new 
 voice is, the better will it be for the child. A 
 boy's best chance of growth is in associating with 
 people already grown. If you want to make him 
 a poet, do not point him to the model of the 
 village rhymester. Point him to the greatest. It 
 is always the voice of the Lord God that develops 
 young Adam. Those beings inferior to himself 
 would not do ; those equal to himself would not 
 do ; those a little better than himself would not 
 do. If you want him to progress, point him to a 
 model at the top of the two trees — the tree of 
 knowledge and the tree of life. Let him climb 
 for the highest apples, even though he get a fall in 
 the process. The highest has more touch with 
 the lowest than any intermediate has. The 
 element of childhood remains in the greatest. 
 The perfected soul gathers up its past. It has 
 many mansions in its nature and it prepares a 
 place for all surmounted stages. It can under- 
 stand the child better than the youth can, for it 
 has a mansion for childhood — which the youth 
 has not. The youth is ever pressing onward and 
 upward ; he fain would forget. But the mature 
 soul goes back. It lives in sympathy with the 
 things beneath it. There is no model so fitted to 
 182 
 
THE DIRECTING OF THE EARLY MIND 
 
 the heart of the child as that which is planted at 
 the summit of the hill. 
 
 Parents of the coming generation, bring your 
 children to Jesus ! I speak not in the voice of 
 the Churches, I speak not in the name of the 
 Creeds, I speak not in the phrase of religious 
 revivalism. I speak in the interest of the school- 
 master, in the interest of education, in the interest 
 of social development. The mothers of Galilee 
 made a shrewd choice for their model. They 
 came not with their children to Peter, or James, 
 or John; they sought not to kindle them by 
 Andrew or Philip or Nathaniel. They went up 
 to the highest — to Jesus. Ye mothers of England, 
 be not less shrewd than they ! Would you kindle 
 the inspiration of your children, beware of the 
 torch to which you bring them. Do not say, 
 ** They are very small lives, and therefore a very 
 little will do it." Do not lead them to a wax 
 match or a taper or a candle. Small lives need 
 the greatest heat to fan them into flame. Seek 
 for them nothing less than the sun — bear them 
 into the presence of Jesus. They will learn all 
 things from Him — the beauties of the field 
 and the pity of the heart and the fervour of 
 the mind. Caesar will not teach them such 
 courage ; Socrates will not show them such 
 
 183 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 calmness ; David will not impress them with such 
 chivalry ; Moses will not inspire them with such 
 meekness ; Elijah will not imbue them with such 
 earnestness; Daniel will not touch them with 
 such manliness ; Job will not nerve them with 
 such patience ; Paul will not fire them with such 
 love. They will climb to the top of the mansion 
 quicker than they will scale the ladder on a 
 neighbouring wall ; bring them first to the 
 mountain ; point them to Jesus. 
 
 I 
 
 184 i 
 
 i 
 
The Distinctiveness of Christian Morality 
 
 " He answered and said unto Him, Master, all these have I 
 observed from my youth. Then Jesus said unto him, One 
 thing thou lackest : sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the 
 poor." — Mark x. 20, 21. 
 
 These are the words of that young man who 
 won the love of Jesus before he had embraced the 
 cause of Jesus. It is something to know that one 
 can win the love of Christ before he calls himself 
 a Christian— that the Divine eye recognises a 
 virtue conferred by nature as well as a virtue 
 derived from grace. But let that pass. The 
 question the young man asked was really this: 
 In what respect does Christianity differ from the 
 Ten Commandments? What is there in your 
 doctrine that can give it a more permanent life 
 than can be claimed by these precepts of Moses ? 
 He tells Jesus that, so far as his consciousness 
 goes, he has kept undeviatingly the law of these 
 commandments. He has given to every one his 
 due. He has obeyed his parents ; he has abstained 
 
 185 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 from all bodily violence ; he has been free from 
 fraud; he has given no false testimony; he has 
 yielded to no immoral desires. He asks what 
 more can be wanted to make him a Christian. 
 The answer of Christ is striking, " Go, sell what- 
 soever thou hast, and give to the poor." If we 
 would see its significance, we must look at the 
 spirit, and not the mere form, of the words. Let 
 me try to paraphrase what our Lord means: 
 " You say you have given to every one his due. 
 It is well ; I admit your integrity in this respect. 
 But is this the measure of all possible integrity ? 
 Is it the climax of goodness when a man can say 
 that he has rendered to every one his due ? It is 
 the climax of justice ; but is justice the highest 
 step on the ladder of goodness ? No ; there is a 
 step beyond justice — generosity. It is not enough 
 that you give to your brother what he has a legal 
 right to ; you must impart to him that to which 
 he has no legal right. It is comparatively easy 
 to remember him in the things wherein he is rich 
 — in the things which are his own. But to 
 remember him when he is poor, to sympathise 
 with him in that which he is in want of — that is 
 difficult. You have done well to respect his 
 person, to keep your hands from his property, to 
 abstain from calumniating his name. But after 
 i86 
 
DISTINCTIVENESS OF CHRISTIAN MORALITY 
 
 all, that is only a refraining of the hand. Is there 
 to be no outstretching of the hand ! Are you 
 content with doing your brother no wrong ! Is 
 there no good that you can do him ! You have 
 not killed your brother; but have you enlarged 
 his life! You have not stolen; but have you 
 added to his store ! You have not defamed ; 
 but have you spread his virtues ! You have 
 brought him no domestic dispeace ; but have you 
 brought him domestic joy ! You have refused to 
 covet his possessions ; but have you ever coveted 
 possessions /or Aim / If not, there remaineth for 
 you a rest that is still unachieved." 
 
 Lord, it is not enough for me that I have 
 washed my robes; I miist make them white in 
 the Blood of the Lamb — in the stream of sacrifice. 
 There are souls which, touching the outward law, 
 are blameless. Their robes are white ; but they 
 are not sacrificial. They have done their neigh- 
 bour no hurt; but they have borne him no 
 blessing. Not such whiteness be mine, O Lord ! 
 It " lacks " something. It means only the 
 washing in innocence — in harmlessness. I should 
 like to be washed in blood — in sacrifice. Not by 
 self-restraint would I be made pure, but rather by 
 ww-restraint — not by the wall, but by the wing. I 
 will not pray, " Bind my hands that I hurt not 
 187 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 my brother " ; my cry will be, " Loose my hands 
 that I may serve him." I will not pray, " Save 
 me from trespassing on my neighbour's ground " ; 
 my cry will be, " Let my ground be open to my 
 neighbour." I will not pray, ** Keep me from 
 envying his possession of fair flowers " ; my cry 
 will be, " May the flowers that are mine be shared 
 by him." I will not pray, " Preserve me from the 
 passion of Cain " ; my cry will be, " Fill me with 
 the passion of Christ — the passion for the life of 
 the world." I will not pray, " Make me content 
 with my own " ; my cry will be, " Let me call 
 nothing my own, but everything a lease for the 
 lavishing of love." I will not pray, ** Number me 
 among the spirits of just men " ; my cry will be, 
 " Number me among the spirits of just men 
 made perfect." Expand justice into generosity, 
 and I shall ** lack " no more. 
 
 x88 
 
The Unexpected Recipients of a Heavenly 
 
 Reward 
 
 "And not to me only, but unto all them also that love His 
 appearing." — 2 Tim. iv. 8. 
 
 This is to my mind a very peculiar passage. It 
 contains an idea which is strikingly original and 
 deserves marked attention. Paul has been saying 
 that all through his Christian life he has been a 
 man of faith — has kept undimmed his belief in 
 the coming of a great revelation which shall make 
 all things clear, and, as the result of his faith, he 
 expects that in the future God will place a crown 
 on his head. But suddenly he goes on to say that 
 this crown will not be confined to the man of 
 unclouded faith ; it will be shared also by the man 
 of unclouded love. What he says I take to be 
 this, " God has laid up a crown of righteousness 
 to recompense my faith in His appearing ; but He 
 has also a crown for those who have only loved His 
 appearing — who have never been able to make it 
 a matter of steadfast faith ; there are men who 
 189 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 shall receive a crown for the mere wish of their 
 hearts that Christ's kingdom may come." Consider 
 this utterance of Paul. There are three ways in 
 which I may be affected towards the appearing of 
 Christ — faith, hope, or love. I may have a clear 
 vision of His approach — I may see in anticipation 
 the King in His beauty ; this is faith. I may have 
 a dim vision of His approach — I may behold but 
 momentary glimpses in a cloudy sky ; this is hope. 
 I may have no vision at all of His approach — 
 hope itself may have died within me ; yet, in the 
 place where faith and hope should dwell, there 
 may be a great longing for His light ; this is love 
 — the love of His appearing. Paul says that even 
 this absence of dogmatic assurance will receive its 
 crown of glory. It has seen no star in the east, 
 it has heard no bells across the snow ; yet it has 
 mirrored Christ in its dreams, and its heart has 
 vibrated in the night. There are men who have 
 washed their robes in mere love. Their faith is 
 clouded, their hope is dim ; the Christ is shadowed 
 to the eye. But to the heart He is not shadowed ; 
 love reigns. And love purifies. It holds the 
 Christ before the soul even where He is absent 
 from the sight ; the vision of His Cross in the soul 
 becomes in the life the vindication of His crown. 
 My Father, who are these that are arrayed in 
 190 
 
RECIPIENTS OF A HEAVENLY REWARD 
 
 white robes and whence came they ? I can under* 
 stand why others should be clothed in white. I 
 can understand why the pure garment should be 
 worn by the convinced — by those who hear the 
 approach of Thy chariot wheels. I can under- 
 stand why the white robe should cover the 
 sanguine — those who listen for the chariot which 
 as yet they do not hear. But why should there 
 be a garment for those who are not even listening 
 for Thy chariot — who have not faith enough or 
 hope enough to strain the ear! Thou hast 
 revealed the mystery, O Lord. It is because 
 there is another vision of Thee than either faith 
 or hope ; it is love. It is because when I cannot 
 see Thine appearing or expect Thine appearing I 
 can love Thine appearing. I thank Thee that 
 Thou hast white robes for love — a crown of 
 righteousness laid up for those who have only 
 seen Thee by the heart. I thank Thee that in 
 Thy precious sacrifice a man can wash his robes 
 by night — the night of intellectual obscurity. I 
 thank Thee that, when the cloud has received Thy 
 Christ out of my sight, and when He can no 
 longer rule my reason. He can still lodge in my 
 love and beautify my life. Let this be my comfort, 
 Lord, when the sun is low ! In the hour when 
 faith is feeble and the wing of hope is heavy, tell me 
 191 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 that love can crown me, that the song of the heart 
 can atone ! Tell me that the roll of Thy disciples 
 is larger than the communion roll, that the names 
 written in heaven exceed the names signed on 
 earth ! Tell me that, when the sons of faith have 
 been rewarded and the sons of hope have been 
 recompensed, there will remain to be distributed a 
 third series of prizes — the crowns of those who 
 have loved Thine appearing I 
 
 192 
 
The Divine Optimism 
 
 " Mercy rejoiceth against judgment."— James ii. 13. 
 
 There are, I think, three states of the human 
 heart — love, hatred, and lovelessness. Love is 
 attraction ; hatred is repulsion ; lovelessness is 
 equilibrium or indifference. Love is hot ; hatred 
 is cold ; lovelessness is lukewarm. Love is the 
 sense of day; hatred is the feeling of night; 
 lovelessness is congenital blindness— the absence 
 of any feeling either of day or night. Each of 
 these states has a separate tendency. Loveless- 
 ness is indifference to a man's good or evil ; it 
 neither rejoices in judgment nor in mercy. Hatred 
 seeks out the bad quality in a man ; it rejoices in 
 judgment but not in mercy. Love seeks the good 
 quality in a man ; it rejoices in mercy but not in 
 ■judgment. Now, St. James says that this last is 
 the Divine ideal— the condition of the heart of 
 God. The paradox of the statement lies in the 
 thought that the being who has the keenest 
 perception of sin should least have the wish to 
 judge it. Yet there is nothing strange in this. 
 The master in photography is more alive to a 
 193 N 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 disagreeable expression of countenance than the 
 tyro is. Yet on that very account he is far less 
 apt than the tyro to photograph the sitter at this 
 particular point. His very sense of shrinking from 
 anything not beautiful will make him refuse to 
 take the impression at this stage. The greater the 
 artist be, the less we have to fear being represented 
 in our worst light ; it is the poor artist that makes 
 us tremble. You and I are sitting to-day to the 
 Divine Artist. He sees every flaw in our face and 
 figure as no brother man can see them, and they 
 impress Him more repulsively than they will affect 
 any brother man. But just because of that, we 
 are safer in His hands. He sees the flaw and 
 judges it, but He will not let this be His final 
 judgment. His mercy rejoices over His judgment. 
 He says : " I will not close the sitting at this point. 
 I will wait for another expression, a better ex- 
 pression, an expression which shall more satisfy 
 my sense of beauty." That is my safety in the 
 presence of the Divine Painter — His horror of the 
 flaw. The human painter may close his sitting at 
 the moment of the blemish, because he feels less 
 the majesty efface and form ; but the Divine Artist 
 calls for an arrest of judgment, and suspends the 
 process in the hope of better things. 
 
 O Thou in whose searching light I sit for my 
 194 
 
THE DIVINE OPTIMISM 
 
 portrayal, how shall I appear 1 In that searching 
 light, where shall I find comfort ! In the very fact 
 of its searchingness, O my God. My brother's 
 light may fail to detect a small stain, but it will 
 also fail to detect a small virtue. Thou, O Father, 
 shalt see my sin in the bud, but Thou shalt also 
 see my grace in the germ. I would not fly from 
 Thy microscope even if I could. No glass but 
 Thine can count my grains of gold. Thou seest 
 my flower when it is yet but a faith. Thou hearest 
 my prayer when it is yet but a plaint. Thou 
 acceptest my sacrifice when it is yet but a sympathy. 
 Thou readest my confession when it is yet but a 
 cry. Thou receivest my worship when it is yet 
 but a wish. Thou discernest a torrent of grief in 
 my one tear, a storm of penitence in my single 
 sigh, a river of life in my mere unrest. The virgin 
 mother cried, **He that is mighty hath magnified 
 me." I too am magnified in Thy glass, O Lord. 
 My box of ointment becomes Christ's burial 
 wreath. My cup of water given to a man is 
 seen as a gift to Thee. While my life is still in 
 swaddling bands Thou singest over me the songs 
 of Bethlehem ; while my heart is still in a manger 
 Thou layest at my feet the treasures of a king. 
 Thy mercy rejoices over judgment ; Thou art more 
 glad of the gold than of the grey. 
 
 195 N 2 
 
The Comfort of God^s Omnipresence 
 
 " If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the utter- 
 most parts of the sea : even there Thy right hand shall hold 
 me." — Psalm cxxxix. 9, 10. 
 
 The greatest comfort to all hours of separation 
 is the idea of God. When you are to be divided 
 from a friend by an earthly sea there can be no 
 deeper solace than the thought that you and he 
 are to be really within the hollow of a single hand 
 — that, while unable to touch one another, you will 
 be in the presence of one who is touching you both* 
 And when there comes the separation of that 
 widest sea — death, there is again no solace so 
 deep as that. At such a time what do I want to 
 know? Is it whether the streets of heaven are 
 paved with gold ? Is it whether the songs of 
 heaven are rich in music ? Is it whether the work 
 of heaven is wrought by angels ? It is none of 
 these things. It is whether in this vast universe 
 beyond the earth there is anything which can 
 connect my life with the life of my departed 
 brother. What a comfort to be told that, with all 
 196 
 
THE COMFORT OF GOD'S OMNIPRESENCE 
 
 our seeming separation, we are still inmates of the 
 same house — the house of God ! That is just what 
 the psalmist says. He says that absolute separa- 
 tion between two souls is an impossibility — that 
 the wings of the morning can never lift us outside 
 the gates of God. If you had departed into the 
 far-off land and I, lingering here, had a message to 
 send you, I should not, like Adelaide Proctor, make 
 music the medium of transmission. That would 
 be wireless telegraphy ; the song might reach the 
 wrong quarter. But if I knew there was an 
 invisible being in the universe who, spite of the 
 poles of distance, had one hand on me and the 
 other on you, I should find my medium of com- 
 munication in him. I should say, '* Convey into 
 the heart of my friend the impression that he is 
 still remembered by me, still loved by me, still 
 longed for by me." If a man feels himself in 
 contact with God, he is in contact with all worlds. 
 I once heard an old woman express great confidence 
 that she would meet her departed husband beyond 
 the grave. Experimenting on her understanding, 
 I said, " Of course, in that vast district it may take 
 some time to find him." She answered, " It will 
 need no time ; I shall just ask Christ to take me to 
 my husband, and He will take me at once." With 
 all its crudeness and primitiveness, the answer was 
 197 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 on the lines of Herbert Spencer. If all the forces 
 of the universe are the parts of one central Force, 
 that central Force can at any moment unite them 
 all ; the wings of the morning can do nothing to 
 divide. 
 
 O Thou that bridgest every sea which separates 
 soul from soul, my bereaved love looks to Thee, 
 Unto whom can it go but unto Thee ! What 
 other presence connects me with my departed! 
 Shall I give my message to the winds ! — they may 
 leave it with the barren rocks. Shall I entrust it 
 to the sea ! — the sea reaches not beyond the earth. 
 Shall I commit it to a song ! — the songs of heaven 
 may render mine mute. But I can give it to Thee, 
 Thou art the only presence that annihilates dis- 
 tance — that pursues the wings of the morning. 
 Sometimes when I meet one deemed far away, I 
 say, "The world is small." Thou makest all 
 worlds small, O my Father — small as the hollow 
 of Thy hand. Death itself cannot separate what 
 is in the hollow of Thy hand. Do I not cry to 
 Thee on earth to hear my aspirations ; if Thou 
 canst hear them Thou canst transmit them. Thou 
 touchest me here^ and my brother yonder ; Thou 
 art the medium from my soul to his. I commit 
 my message to Thee ; I launch it on the bosom of 
 Thy love. Carry it in Thine own way ; if Thou 
 198 
 
THE COMFORT OF GOiyS OMNIPRESENCE 
 
 boldest worlds in the hollow of Thy hand, it has 
 not far to go. Bear it on the wings of thought ! 
 Breathe it into the breast of my brother ! Kindle 
 it by connection ; inspire it by instinct ; suggest it 
 by sympathy; waft it by inward whisperings; 
 proclaim it by presentiment ; speak it by strength 
 instilled ; convey it through experience of comfort ! 
 I shall have great confidence if I send my letter by 
 Thee. 
 
 199 
 
The Nature of Divine Revelation 
 
 " By manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to 
 every man's conscience in the sight of God." — 2 Cor. iv. 2. 
 
 The thought clearly is that a revelation ought 
 not to be purely original. ** Commending ourselves 
 to every man's conscience " means " commending 
 ourselves to every man's consciousness." What Paul 
 wishes to say is that Divine truth, like every other 
 truth, must speak to experience, appeal to some- 
 thing already knovv^n. It is a point worthy of 
 all observation. The common view is that a 
 Divine revelation must be something wholly new, 
 that if God ever speaks to man it will be to tell 
 him what he never heard before. Would that be 
 your idea of the greatness of a human revelation ? 
 You sometimes say of a sermon, " It was very 
 fresh ; it came to me like a revelation." But what 
 do you mean by that ? That it was a novelty ? 
 Exactly the reverse — that it was an unexpected 
 recognition. A fresh thought is a thought which 
 is suddenly discovered by the drawing aside of a 
 veil. It has been lying there all the time, but the 
 veil covered it. Your finding is, in the literal 
 
 200 
 
THE NATURE OF DIVINE REVELATION 
 
 sense of the word, a discovery— ?i removal of 
 something which has been lying on the top of 
 the thought and has prevented you from seeing 
 it. When you do see it, you recognise it as a part 
 of your own property, a thing which naturally 
 belongs to you and which you should never have 
 been without. It comes to you not as a strange 
 but as a familiar object ; the freshness consists in 
 the fact that it was there while you did not know 
 it. Now, Paul says that it is the same with the 
 truth of God. It is a Divine manifestation, but 
 it commends itself to the consciousness— appeals 
 to the experience. Does not the very word 
 " revelation " mean the drawing aside of a veil. 
 It is not the creation of something new, but the 
 uncovering of something old — something which 
 has been wrapped in a napkin for years, which has 
 been lying close to our hand through the whole 
 course of our lives, and which never for a moment 
 did we beHeve to be there. What God's light 
 reveals is myself. There was a mirror in my room 
 all through the night, and I knew it not ; I thought 
 the spot where it stood blank space. But the sun 
 rose and taught me my own splendour, and the 
 glory without was caught by the glass within, and 
 the morning ray became the reflection of my heart, 
 and in the light of God I beheld my Hfe as man. 
 
 201 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Lord, let me not forget that Thou hast a separate 
 voice for separate souls — a voice for the " conscious- 
 ness of every man " ! Let me not forget that 
 though Thy light speaks to all it has not the 
 same ray for each ! I have no right to ask that 
 my brother's mirror shall reflect the same things 
 as mine. Thou shinest into separate rooms — into 
 the consciousness of each man, and the rooms are 
 all differently furnished. Shall I insist that my 
 brother's room be mirrored as my own ! Elijah 
 has his table spread in the vi^ilderness ; what he 
 needs from Thee is a human voice ; therefore Thou 
 sendest him a friend. Peter gets food in his dreams 
 — by the sheet let down from heaven ; what he 
 needs from Thee is a waking to reality ; therefore 
 Thou sendest him a rough sea. John lives in the 
 fire of expectancy — in the hope of an immediate 
 seat at Thy right hand ; what he needs from Thee 
 is the calmness to wait ; therefore Thou sendest 
 him a long journey. Paul has had too much light 
 — is apt to underrate a brother's difficulty ; what 
 he needs from Thee is a sense of human weakness; 
 therefore Thou sendest him a thorn. Matthew 
 has had too many thorns — has met everywhere 
 obloquy, contempt, scorn; what he needs from 
 Thee is a flower ; therefore Thou sendest him the 
 revelation of Thy presence in a feast. I thank 
 
 202 
 
THE NATURE OF DIVINE REVELATION 
 
 Thee not only that Thou knockest at every door, 
 but that Thine is a varied knocking ; Thou callest 
 Martha into the silence, Thou meetest Mary at the 
 social board. Thou suppliest my life, not where 
 it is strong, but where it is weak ; Thou reachest 
 my consciousness where I am conscious of want. 
 
 203 
 
The Irrepressible Evidence of a Divine 
 Origin 
 
 " Though I bear record of myself, yet my record is true : for 
 I know whence I came, and whither I go." — John viii. 14. 
 
 I UNDERSTAND our Lord to mean that one who 
 has in him the blood of a lofty lineage cannot help 
 revealing himself. The presence of Jesus even 
 where it was silent exercised a commanding power. 
 His enemies said, " How is this air of dignity com- 
 patible with your profession of the absence of 
 self-consciousness, *Thou bearest record of thy- 
 self; thy witness of a voluntary humility cannot 
 be true.' " Jesus answers ; " It is just because I 
 am utterly unconscious of Myself that My lineage 
 shines through Me. If I were on guard, if I were 
 studying to conceal, I might keep it from appearing. 
 But because there is no thought of self, because 
 My heart is moving naturally and spontaneously, 
 the secret of My birth comes out and My origin is 
 revealed." Now, even in natural life this is a 
 principle which can easily be verified. Every 
 man of high breeding, in his unconscious moments, 
 204 
 
IRREPRESSIBLE EVIDENCE OF A DIVINE ORIGIN 
 
 bears record of himself. I should say he never 
 does so with such strength as in his unconscious 
 moments. When he is oif guard, when he is 
 bent on some intense aim, when his thoughts are 
 far away from the mode of his own action, that 
 mode will reveal itself as an attitude of grace. 
 He may be lifting a chair for your benefit and for 
 your benefit alone ; yet, in the act of impersonal 
 kindness the personal dignity may appear. When 
 a man is born of Christ's Spirit it will be im- 
 possible for him to conceal his origin. It will 
 shine out everywhere, but never so much as when 
 he is engaged in matters seemingly foreign to 
 himself. It will not be only in reading the 
 Bible or in uttering a prayer that the secret of 
 his birth will be manifest. It will be an irre- 
 pressible secret. It will shine in things called 
 secular, in scenes called worldly. Men will give 
 it worldly names. They will say, " What a fine 
 manner he has ! " — *' What perfect culture he 
 has 1 " — they will attribute to the gardener the 
 resurrection which comes from the Lord. The 
 secret of your Christian birth will come out in 
 your countenance, in your gait, in your gesture, 
 in your music, in your business, in your converse, 
 in your very mode of conducting an argument. 
 Christ cannot be buried — not even in a human 
 205 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 heart; on the third day He will rise again and 
 reveal Himself in outward things — on the dusty 
 road to Emmaus and on the bosom of life's fretting 
 sea. 
 
 Lord, let me breathe Thine upper air — the air 
 of Thy Spirit ! If once I breathe it I shall no more 
 go out. I do not say I shall no more come down. 
 I want to come down. I do not wish to linger in 
 the tabernacle of the mount when a sufferer is 
 waiting on the plain ; I am glad that the cloud 
 should cover the tabernacles, and send me down. 
 But I would carry down along with me the 
 mountain air ; I would carry down along with me 
 the mountain radiance. Moses carried Thy light 
 to the foot of the hill ; so would I. I would not 
 study how to make it shine, any more than Moses 
 did; I would put on, like him, a veil of self- 
 forgetfulness. But I know that the veil will not 
 hide it ; in spite of myself I shall bear record 
 ** whence I came and whither I go." Let me not 
 be anxious about seeking religious spheres ; may I 
 touch all spheres and make them rosy with Thy 
 light ! May I be religious without knowing it 
 — always, everywhere ! May I leave Thy sun- 
 beams where I dream not ! May I plant Thy 
 flowers where I deem not ! May I send Thy 
 message where I seem not ! May I tell of Christ 
 306 
 
IRREPRESSIBLE EVIDENCE OF A DIVINE ORIGIN 
 
 unconsciously when I mean to speak of common 
 things! May I describe heaven unwittingly when I 
 discourse only of mart and lane ! May my presence 
 breathe Thy peace, my happiness Thy hope, my 
 fervour Thy faith, my cheerfulness Thy charity, 
 my pity Thy pardon, my munificence Thy mercy, 
 my generosity Thy gentleness, my tenderness the 
 travail of Thy soul ! In the streets of busy life, in 
 the scenes of garish day, let me bear unconscious 
 record of the height from which I came I 
 
 207 
 
Compensation 
 
 "Dost thou know the balancings of the clouds!"— 
 Job XXXVII. i6. 
 
 These words were spoken by Elihu — one of the 
 five actors in the drama of the Book of Job. 
 Before he gave his opinion, two other opinions had 
 been advanced as to the government of God. The 
 first was that of Job's three critics — Eliphaz, 
 Bildad and Zophar. They represented God as 
 very stern to the sinner. The second was that of 
 Job. He said that the clouds of Hfe were so 
 unequally distributed as to lead to the conclusion 
 that joy and pain were irrespective of goodness or 
 badness. He thought that the clouds fell indis- 
 criminately on the evil and the righteous. But 
 Elihu steps forward with a third theory. He 
 turns to Job and says : " Admitting that the clouds 
 fall equally on the evil and the righteous, how does 
 that prove that the righteous suffer as much as the 
 evil I Do you know the balancing of these clouds ! 
 208 
 
COMPENSATION 
 
 Do you imagine that the same calamity falling on 
 two men at the same time must mean the same 
 amount of suffering! Do you not take into 
 account the previous condition of the soul which 
 meets it ! Are you not aware that every calamity 
 may be either aggravated or counterbalanced from 
 within ! Until you have learned this, you are in 
 no condition to measure the justice of God." And. 
 of the three doctrines I agree with that of Elihu.. 
 Before I can judge of any calamity I must know; 
 whether there is anything to counterbalance it, to 
 compensate it, to weigh against it. I have seen 
 children playing in squalid lane and wretched 
 alley, oblivious of the mean environment; they 
 were blinded to the pain by their own buoyancy. 
 I have seen the soldier unconscious of weary 
 marches ; he forgot fatigue in the ardour of his 
 cause. I have seen the student pass hours without 
 food and nights without repose ; the inward fire 
 burned up hunger and consumed the need of 
 sleep. I have heard the martyr in the agonies of 
 death cry to his fellow-sufferers, " Be of good 
 cheer ; we shall kindle a torch that will never be 
 extinguished ! " In all these cases there was a 
 counterbalancing of the cloud. Without the 
 inward counterpoise the poverty would have 
 repelled, the march exhausted, the abstinence 
 209 o 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 killed, the martyrdom unmanned. But the cloud 
 was balanced by a ray of glory. 
 
 Lord, balance my clouds ; let them not be 
 allowed to outweigh my joys ! I dare not ask an 
 exemption from the cloud, for Thou makest the 
 clouds Thy chariots. But I do ask its balancing 
 — the counteraction by an inward joy. Give wings 
 to my heart, that at the time of the cloud it may 
 fly to a flower ! Thou hast never left my garden 
 without a flower. Never have I seen an absolute 
 winter in the heart of man ; there is always a rest 
 that " remaineth." In the hour of the cloud, let 
 not mine eye linger on it ! Turn my gaze to the 
 joys that are still unfading! Let the rain from 
 the cloud water these joys and make them more 
 precious ! Let me know the meaning of the 
 words, " When ye are persecuted in one city, flee 
 into another!" I thank Thee that there is no 
 life in which all cities are persecuted — that there 
 is ever a place of refuge to which the spirit can 
 flee. Let not the cloud overbalance me ! Lead 
 me to the joy that remaineth ! Reveal to me the 
 still unrufiled rose ! When Thou puttest out the 
 stars, let me hear the nightly song ! When Thou 
 bringest the flood, let me see the bow ! When 
 Thou wakest the storm, walk Thyself upon the 
 waters ! When Thou sendest the cross, bring 
 
 210 
 
COMPENSATION \ 
 
 beforehand Thy peace ! When Thou takest away 
 
 Rachael, raise up Joseph ! When Judas proves a j 
 
 failure and lessens the number of the twelve, point < 
 
 me to the coming Paul ! Help me to discern the ! 
 silver lining in the cloud! 
 
 211 O 2 ] 
 
The Cosmopolitanism of the Lord's Prayer 
 
 Matt. vi. 9 — 13. 
 
 Has it ever struck you how representative this 
 prayer is in respect to human want. To my mind 
 its very originality lies in its power to include the 
 old desires of the heart. These six petitions are 
 each the voice of an ancient philosophy or faith ; 
 Christ has simply gathered them in. He has 
 counted the scattered cries and made them one 
 choir. The Jew cried, " Hallowed be Thy Name " ; 
 he wanted a God whom men could reverence for 
 His holiness — who charged His very angels with 
 folly, who could not look upon sin but with 
 abhorrence. Two empires have cried, " Thy king- 
 dom come " — the Chinese and the Roman ; they 
 have seen heaven incarnated on a visible throne. 
 The Brahman has cried, " Thy will be done " ; he 
 counts his own will delusion ; he wants to lose 
 himself in the Absolute Life. The polytheist of 
 every clime cries, '' Give us this day our daily 
 bread " ; his whole use of religion is for the needs 
 212 
 
COSMOPOLITANISM OF THE LORD'S PRAYER 
 
 of the hour. The Buddhist cries, " Forgive us our 
 debts"; he trembles lest the consequence of sin 
 may be to bring us back after death to lower forms 
 of being. And the Stoic cries, " Lead us not into 
 temptation " ; his whole desire is to be free from 
 the vain seductions of life — to ignore its jealousies, 
 to scorn its passions, to laugh at its ambitions, to 
 regard its gains and its losses with equal contempt. 
 These are the cries of the old world ; and Christ 
 has said, ** Come unto Me and I will give you 
 rest ! " He has not sent one of them empty 
 away. He has gathered them together as a hen 
 gathereth her chickens under her wings ; and there 
 will not be one want neglected in His shower of 
 blessings. 
 
 O ye who proclaim the Gospel to foreign 
 lands, tell them not that they are foreign to 
 Christ ! Tell them that within His Pantheon 
 there is a place for all the cries of the world ! Tell 
 them that within the many mansions of His heart 
 there is a room prepared for the desire of every 
 Hving soul ! Bid them all come in, carrying their 
 separate burdens ! Bid the secularist bring his cry 
 for daily bread ! — it will be answered here. Bid 
 the Brahman bring his cry for vanquished will ! — it 
 will be answered here. Bid the Stoic bring his 
 cry for conquered passions ! — it will be answered 
 
 213 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 here. Bid the Roman bring his cry for a Divine 
 kingdom ! — it will be answered here. Bid them 
 learn that in Christ they will get more than they 
 cry for ! Tell the Jew he will see God's holiness, 
 but that the sight will be softened by debts for- 
 given ! Tell the Brahman he will yield up his will 
 but that the sacrifice will be mitigated by the 
 assurance of daily bread ! Tell the Roman he will 
 see the King in His power, but that this power 
 will be exerted in holding him back from tempta- 
 tion ! Tell all of them that each of their cries 
 will be better answered because each will receive 
 also an answer to his brother's cry ! So shall the 
 hearts of all be knit in unity, so shall the last 
 result be not selfishness but sympathy; and the 
 prayer which each will utter shall eventually be 
 the prayer for all — " Our Father." 
 
 814 
 
Christ's Disparagement of Apparitions 
 
 " If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they 
 be persuaded, though one rose from the dead."— Luke xvi. 31. 
 
 I HAVE heard a hundred sermons preached on 
 this text ; and the result of them all was unsatis- 
 factory. Not one of them succeeded in rendering 
 even plausible the statement that a rising from 
 the dead would not persuade an unbeliever. But 
 did Christ ever say that a rising from the dead 
 would not persuade an unbeliever ? Never. The 
 sin of Dives and his five brothers was not unbelief; 
 it was want of charity. That of Dives certainly 
 was. He allowed a beggar to lie at his gates, to 
 feed on the mere crumbs that accident sent from 
 his table, to have his sores ministered to by the 
 very dogs of the street. The family sin seems to 
 have been avarice— the inability to give. Now, 
 no avaricious man could be made less avaricious 
 by an appearing of the dead. An unbeliever 
 would lose his unbelief; an atheist would drop 
 his atheism; a worshipper of matter and force 
 would cry out, " There is a spirit after all ! " But 
 215 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 no apparition from the dead could make a selfish 
 man loving. It could make him fly with food and 
 nourishment to the bedside of an invalid — but not 
 for love. He would fly on the wings of fright ; 
 he would travel on the steps of trepidation. 
 Many a sceptic who rejects Moses and the 
 prophets would be persuaded by a spiritualistic 
 seance ; but no man whose pity was not kindled 
 by Moses and the prophets would have it kindled 
 by a spiritualistic seance. If his soul was not 
 touched by the child in the Nile river and by all 
 the waifs and strays that have since been there, if 
 his heart was not heavy with the burden of 
 Egypt's slaves and of all the future slaves of loom 
 and factory, if his spirit was not bowed with the 
 weight of the Man of Sorrows and of all the 
 sorrowful souls of which He is the type, in vain 
 would he behold the rending of the tomb — in vain 
 would the tables rap and the furniture move and 
 the solemn message descend ; he would not be 
 persuaded ! 
 
 Lord, I have often asked myself why Thou hast 
 not appeared to me, to solve my doubts in visible 
 form. It is because my doubts are not the main 
 subject of Thy solicitude. The main subject of 
 Thy solicitude is my want of charity to man. 
 Not in my deep sense of mystery, but in my 
 216 
 
CHRIST^S DISPARAGEMENT OF APPARITIONS 
 
 shallow sense of mercy dost Thou read corruption. 
 If my sin were the sense of mystery, a thousand 
 voices from the sky would speak to give me light, 
 for there could be no cure for mystery like a voice 
 from the sky. But my sin is selfishness, loveless- 
 ness. What voice from the sky would speak to 
 that / The voice which speaks to that must be 
 one crying in the wilderness. Send me these 
 wilderness cries, O Christ ; wake me to the 
 burdens of Moses ! Let me hear the masses 
 crying for the manna ! Let me see the wailing 
 crowd beside the bitter waters ! Let me view the 
 people stricken by the pestilence ! Let me feel 
 the depression of those whose life is a desert ! 
 Let me know the weariness of anxious waiting, 
 the languor of a long look-out, the torture of pro- 
 tracted time, the pain of a promised land that 
 does not come, the murmuring that is born of 
 mornings that bring no change, the rebellion of 
 the heart that resents the faintness of the hand 1 
 No voices from the sky will equal these. 
 
 217 
 
The Guests at Christ^s Own Table 
 
 "As Jesus sat at meat in His house, many publicans and 
 sinners sat together with Jesus and His disciples." — Mark ii. 15. 
 
 This is to my mind the most unique passage in 
 the New Testament. It is the only instance I 
 know in which Jesus plays the part of host or 
 entertainer. Everywhere else He is a guest ; 
 here, for the first and last time, we meet Him in 
 His own house, at His own table. It was not a 
 communion table. The disciples were there; 
 but publicans and sinners were there too. Around 
 that table there must have been a great diversity 
 of theological opinion. The disciples and the 
 publicans had no dogmas in common ; yet they 
 both sat at Christ's board. What enabled them 
 to sit together ? We can understand how men 
 can " sit together in heavenly places " — in the 
 sense of a common faith. But what bound in one 
 these souls so different ? It was their love for the 
 Son of Man. It was their love for the earthly 
 2i8 
 
THE GUESTS AT CHRISTY OWN TABLE 
 
 Christ — the brother-Christ, the Christ of the 
 street and of the lane. The publicans and sinners 
 were not yet dreaming of salvation. They were 
 seeking no supernatural help. It was the natural 
 in Christ which they loved — the voice, the gait, 
 the manner, the countenance. They loved Him 
 for less than He was worth. The private friends 
 of a poet may be unable to appreciate any poetry ; 
 yet the man may be very dear to them, and he 
 will accept their outside fondness. So did Jesus 
 accept a love for that which was His least posses- 
 sion. It was a love for something inferior, but it 
 was not an inferior love. Do not measure the 
 strength of love by its cause. Many of these 
 publicans would have gone to the stake as readily 
 as the disciples — though they would have gone for 
 another motive. The love in the disciple was fire 
 on the mount, the love in the publican was fire on 
 the plain ; but a fire on the plain may be as hot as 
 a fire on the mount. Jesus saw the difference, but 
 He accepted both. 
 
 I thank Thee, O Christ, for this one revelation 
 of Thyself as a social friend. I have seen on Thy 
 head many crowns. I have seen Thee as teacher, 
 healer, saviour. I have seen Thee in the storm, 
 I have seen Thee in the sickroom, I have seen 
 Thee on the cross. But I should have missed 
 
 319 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 something if there had not been one hour of 
 simple unbending, of mere human brotherhood 
 for its own sake — for itself alone. I bless Thee 
 for this revealing of a purely human hour. We 
 are not all ready for Thy communion bread ; we 
 are not all ready for Thy sermon on the hill ; we 
 are not even all ready to be fed, like paupers, 
 in the wilderness. But we all understand the 
 brotherhood of man. We all understand the life 
 of the comrade. There may be a fellowship of 
 the heart where there is not fellowship of the 
 spirit. They who have not yet gathered within 
 Thy Church may already sit at meat in Thy 
 house. May Thy disciples be willing to sit beside 
 them there ! Let them not refuse the name of 
 Christian to those who as yet are but social guests 
 of Thee ! Methinks it is of these little children 
 Thou sayest, *' Suffer them to come, and forbid 
 them not! " We do not forbid, O Lord. What 
 are we that we should refuse to associate with 
 Thy guests ! They have never been at the temple; 
 but they have dined at Thy house. Thy house is 
 larger than our temple. Thy table is wider than 
 our communion. Thou hast issued more invita- 
 tions than we. We ask disciples ; Thou biddest 
 the alien. We ask converts; Thou biddest the 
 sinner? We ask the assured; Thou biddest the 
 
 220 
 
THE GUESTS AT CHRISTS OWN TABLE 
 
 doubting. We ask the members ; Thou biddest 
 those outside. We ask those who can say, " Thou 
 art the Christ of God " ; Thou biddest, in addition 
 to these, those who in wonder cry, " Never man 
 spake Hke this man 1 " 
 
 221 
 
Roman Power and Christian Power 
 
 " I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, for it is the power 
 of God unto salvation.'* — Rom. i. i6. 
 
 Paul always suited his preaching to his hearers. 
 His hearers were at present the Romans. The 
 thing they reverenced above all others was power. 
 Their dislike to Christianity proceeded from its 
 seeming weakness. Paul says they are under a 
 false impression. He declares that Christianity 
 is distinguished by the very element they love — 
 power. He says that even from their own point 
 of view there is nothing in it to be ashamed of, 
 that it has a Roman feature about it — strength. 
 " The power of God unto salvation "—how strange 
 the words must have sounded to the Mistress of 
 the World ! Her formula had been, " The power 
 of empire unto destruction " — the power that 
 could crush down all opposition by killing the 
 opponent. But here was a novel mode of power 
 — the crushing of opposition by conciliating the 
 opponent. " Do you call that power ! " laughed 
 
 222 
 
ROMAN POWER AND CHRISTIAN POWER 
 
 the Roman; "that is what anybody could do." 
 The Roman was wrong. The greatest power in 
 the world is the power to save a human soul, 
 because, of all things in the world, it is the hardest 
 to do. What ! you say, can anything be difficult 
 for the power of God ! Yes, one thing — the 
 restraining of that power. And the salvation of a 
 human soul requires that. Salvation would be a 
 very easy thing if man could be treated as a star — 
 driven mechanically within a certain orbit and 
 commanded to keep there. He could be thus 
 driven, but he could not thus be saved. Salvation 
 demands a tempering of the power of God. If I 
 am to be saved, the ship of God must not be in 
 full sail. There must be room for my will, room 
 for my conscience, room for my love. It is this 
 that makes salvation to my Father a source of 
 care. How gladly would He save the drunkard at 
 once — quench his thirst and blunt his craving. 
 But that would be the treatment of a star, not of 
 a man. My Father has to suppress His power, to 
 rein it in. It is a hard thing to rein it in — when 
 He longs so much to say, " Peace, be still ! " But 
 this man's tossing is not an ocean to be laid to rest 
 at Divine will ; it is a conscious heart, and must 
 be treated as a heart. It is a life, a soul, a spirit ; 
 and it must respond to the touch of life and soul 
 223 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 and spirit. It must receive God into its own ship 
 if it wants to see land. 
 
 My soul, often hast thou admired the Roman 
 power of conquest. Hast thou considered a power 
 of conquest that is greater still — the power unto 
 salvation. Place before thee these two figures — 
 Caesar and Christ. Which is the greater con- 
 queror ? Hast thou pondered the difference 
 between the subduing of a body and the subduing 
 of a heart ? To take captive a body is to imprison 
 it ; but to take captive a heart is to release it. To 
 take captive a body is to deprive it of voluntary 
 movement ; but to take captive a heart is to give 
 it wings. To take captive a body is to mutilate 
 it, limit it, impair it ; but to take captive a heart 
 is to lend it radiance, beauty, charm. To take 
 captive a body is to kill the bird in catching it ; 
 but to take captive a heart is to give the bird room 
 in heaven. Thy heart is never free till it is cap- 
 tured. Love is the capture of thy heart. It is 
 the only conquest that enlarges the prisoner. 
 The loveless heart is the pulseless heart. Knowest 
 thou why it is written that Christ makes thee free ? 
 It is because thy heart has no freedom till it has a 
 master. It flies by its fetter ; it mounts by its 
 manacle; it soars by its surrender; it beams by 
 its bonds ; it carols by its cords ; it expands by 
 224 
 
ROMAN POWER AND CHRISTIAN POWER 
 
 its enclosure ; it deepens by its dependence ; it 
 grows young by the sense of its yoke. Thy heart 
 is never so rich as when it is conquered by 
 another; I am not ashamed of subjection to 
 love. 
 
 865 
 
The Spontaneity of True Charity 
 
 •• He sighed deeply in His spirit, and saith, Why doth this 
 generation seek after a sign ? " — Mark viii. 12. 
 
 The Pharisees had asked Christ for a sign from 
 heaven, that is to say, a sign from the sky. It was 
 as if they had said, " We see a great deal of bodily 
 healing by your hand. Yet, after all, there is 
 nothing supernatural in bodily healing. We all 
 know that mind has influence over body — that 
 faith can strengthen the physical, that hope can 
 aid health, that love can cure lassitude, that 
 novelty can divert from nerves. All this happens 
 quite naturally. But let us see you arrest a star, 
 let us behold you turn the course of a planet, let 
 us witness you bringing the rain after drought or 
 the sunshine after rain, and then we shall believe 
 in you." Now, where lay the sting of this to 
 Jesus ; what was there in it that made Him sigh in 
 spirit ? Was it because men doubted His power 
 to work a sign in heaven ? No ; it was because 
 they attributed His benevolence to the desire of 
 226 
 
THE SPONTANEITY OF TRUE CHARITY 
 
 working a sign upon earth. Such an imputation 
 would make any philanthropist sigh. Imagine a 
 child meeting with an accident when a doctor was 
 passing and that the doctor offered his services. 
 Imagine that the next morning a paragraph 
 appeared in the newspapers stating that he offered 
 his help with a view to manifest his medical skill. 
 Would not this physician feel that he had been 
 misrepresented in character and depreciated in the 
 moral scale. That is an exact parallel. When 
 Jesus saw an accident in the streets of Hfe He 
 offered His services; but He did not offer His 
 services as a proof of His Messianic skill. He 
 offered them because He could not help it. He 
 brought succour, not to show that He was master 
 of Divine power, but because the sorrows of 
 human nature mastered Him. He was never 
 more passive than in His acts of healing. Our 
 calamities overwhelmed Him. His charities taught 
 a lesson, but He did not bestow them to teach a 
 lesson. He bestowed them to ease His own pain. 
 Cana's poverty made Him uncomfortable. 
 Bethany's grief bowed Him. The leper's fate 
 lacerated Him. The demoniac's cry disturbed 
 Him. The task of the toilers tired Him. The 
 burdens of the worldly wearied Him. The pain 
 of Dives' thirst parched Him. The remorse of 
 227 p 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Magdalene marred His visage. He gave because 
 He must. 
 
 My Father, do not let me dispense my charities 
 as a sign ! Do not let me say, ^' This will show 
 that I amx rich — dowered with ample means and 
 able to bid the cup overflow ! " Do not let me 
 say, " This will show that I am generous — willing 
 to share my superfluities with those who have not 
 enough!" Do not even let me say, "This will 
 show that I am a Christian — a follower of the 
 Messiah and a partaker of His spirit ! " Let me 
 say nothing, but " Let there be light ! " May I 
 give to my brother because his thirst makes a 
 thorn in me ! May I give because my pity is a 
 pain to me, my sorrow a soreness, my compassion 
 a cross ! May I give because I cannot help it ! 
 To me, as to Thy Christ, the tempter comes, and 
 cries, *' If thou wouldst make thyself popular, 
 command that the stones be made bread." I 
 should like to transform the stones of the desert — 
 but not for the tempter's reason. I would not 
 gaze into my looking-glass before I dispense my 
 charity. I would not part with my riches for the 
 sake of being popular. I can never make the 
 stones bread if my own image is behind them. 
 Break that image, O Lord, or I cannot break the 
 bread. I can only give by being self-forgetting. 
 228 
 
THE SPONTANEITY OF TRUE CHARITY 
 
 Veil me from my own view ! Cover me from my 
 own consciousness ! Hide me from my own 
 heart ! Bury me from my own boastings ! Let 
 my charity be childlike ! Let my mercy be 
 motiveless ! Let my pity be born of passion ! 
 Let my gifts be self-regardless ! Let me love work 
 latently ! Blind me to my own beneficence ! 
 Screen me from my own serving ! Deafen me to 
 the music of my own deeds ! Then over me will 
 the Son of Man sigh no more. 
 
 229 
 
The Flowers of Bethany 
 
 *• And He led them out as far as to Bethany. And it came to 
 pass, while He blessed them, He was parted from them, and 
 carried up into heaven." — John xxiv. 50, 51. 
 
 *' He led them out as far as to Bethany." Why 
 did He make that the terminus ? Why did He 
 only become invisible when He reached Bethany ? 
 Because only when we have grasped the lessons of 
 Bethany are we fit to bear in mind the presence of 
 an unseen Christ. Bethany sums up His whole 
 revelation — the brotherhood in life and the 
 brotherhood in death. It shows us the Master at 
 the festive board — uniting man to man in social 
 fellowship. It shows us the Master in the hour 
 of bereavement — bidding man aspire to fellowship 
 beyond the grave. In leading His disciples to 
 Bethany before parting with them, Christ virtu- 
 ally says, "You can do without my visible 
 presence when you have reached these two things 
 — strength for life's feast and strength for life's 
 fast. I will not disappear from your outward 
 gaze until your inward gaze has centred on these 
 2 so 
 
THE FLOWERS OF BETHANY 
 
 two extremes. You must get as far as Bethany 
 in leading-strings. But when you have looked at 
 the sight revealed there, when you have become 
 adequate to bear the trials of human contact and 
 the trials of human bereavement, you have arrived 
 at the top of the hill, and I can leave you there. 
 There is a time when men are ripe for being left 
 alone — when they have learned enough to dispense 
 with the guiding of a visible hand. Your time of 
 ripeness is come when you have learned the two 
 lessons of Bethany." 
 
 My soul, when thou art mourning an absent 
 Lord, keep thine eye on Bethany! When thou 
 art complaining that thy Christ has passed into 
 the silence, keep thine eye on Bethany ! When 
 thou art lamenting that He has left no traces of 
 His earthly presence, keep thine eye on Bethany ! 
 Remember that He left thee not till He had led 
 thee to the lessons of that home — the Christ in 
 human joy and the Christ in human sorrow. 
 These are the two flowers of Bethany, and they 
 have made the world new. Bethink thee what 
 the world was without these Bethany flowers. It 
 saw no God in social joy and it saw no God in 
 death. It had no place for the feast of a common 
 brotherhood; it had no place for comfort at a 
 human grave. Lazarus had few guests for the 
 
 231 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 banquet ; Martha had few wreaths for the tomb. 
 But when the feet of the Lord touched Bethany, 
 there sprang for thee these flowers of hope. 
 SociaUty was for thee made sacred ; death was 
 for thee made luminous. Henceforth thy joy and 
 thy pain have both a wreath from thy Father. 
 The flower of Martha's feast is on every festal 
 board; the flower of Lazarus' tomb is on every 
 modern grave. Thou canst not escape these 
 flowers ; they have reddened the evening sky ; 
 they have lit with their glow earth's later years. 
 He rose not on Easter wing till He had planted 
 them for thee ; and what He has planted time has 
 not uprooted. He has faded from thy view, but 
 His two flowers remain — the sacredness of sociality 
 and the sacredness of sorrow. Keep them ; tend 
 them ; water them ; never let them die ! Let no 
 rough hand tear them ; let no impure touch soil 
 them ; let no blast of grief wither them ! Keep 
 them, through the years ; keep them, spite of 
 fears ; keep them, undimmed by tears ! So shalt 
 thou preserve the latest gifts of Easter Morning ; 
 so shalt thou keep green the memory of thy Lord. 
 
 232 
 
The Preparation for a Religious Life 
 
 •• Quicken us, and we will call upon Thy name." — 
 Psalm lxxx. i8. 
 
 This is a singular prayer from the worldly point 
 of view. The common notion is that religion is 
 a dulling process — a cooling-down of the pulses 
 of life. We speak of the yielding to temptation 
 as fast living, and we blame for it what we call 
 the ardour of youth. When a man begins to 
 think seriously we say that he has sobered down, 
 grown mellow, abated in the fire of early years. 
 All this implies one idea — that seriousness of life 
 is a deadening of life. The psalmist takes exactly 
 the opposite view, *' Quicken us, and we will call 
 upon Thy name." To him religion is not a 
 dulling, but a vivifying, process — a process which 
 does not diminish but which increases the heart's 
 ardour, which does not retard but which accelerates 
 the pulses of being. He would suggest that to 
 become religious a man needs, not less life, but 
 more — not a narrowing but an enlargement of 
 the vital stream. It is generally supposed that 
 
 233 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 when we begin to live in God we must subside 
 in our life for the world. The psalmist, on the 
 contrary, says that before religion can dawn there 
 must be a natural vivifying of the worldly powers, 
 " Quicken us, and we will call upon Thy name.'* 
 Religion in the heart is made the result of intensi- 
 fied natural life. And I think it will be found 
 that the psalmist is right. For, what is the pre- 
 vailing cause of irreligion ? I say " irreligion " — 
 not " doubt," for doubt is a form of religious 
 seriousness. What, I ask, is the prevailing cause 
 of irreligion ? It is indifference. And what is 
 " indifference " ? Is it not simply deadness — want 
 of interest in the things of life. If you would 
 make a religious man serious, you must quicken 
 his pulse to the objects around him. It is this 
 quickening of the pulse that the irreligious man 
 resists. It is to resist intense feehng about 
 worldly things that he often drugs himself with 
 wine. It is to resist intense feeling about worldly 
 things that he flies from flower to flower of 
 pleasure, deadening his appetite as he goes. It 
 is to resist intense feeling about worldly things 
 that he rests not in any spot, however green, but 
 changes his place each hour lest he should read 
 its solemnity. It is by veiling my sight of earth 
 that I lose my sight of heaven. 
 
 234 
 
THE PREPARATION FOR A RELIGIOUS LIFE 
 
 Lord, they tell me that to call upon Thy name 
 I must forget my own — become dead to that 
 world which surrounds me. I have learned, my 
 Father, that it is not so. I never really knew 
 my need of Thee till the sense of my own life 
 was magnified. It was when my natural heart 
 expanded that I found earth was too small for 
 me. When my pulses were dead I had no thirst 
 for Thy life eternal ; earth seemed long enough — 
 sometimes too long. But Thou camest to me 
 with a human love, and the time seemed short ; 
 I cried to Thee for a larger span of existence in 
 which to enjoy my soul. It is my quickened 
 human life that longs for Thine immortahty. My 
 quickened charity longs for it; I want my poor 
 brothers to have a larger room. My quickened 
 justice longs for it ; I want a sequel to unfinished 
 tales. My quickened sense of usefulness longs 
 for it ; I want a place for powers that slumber 
 here. My quickened fancy longs for it ; I want a 
 beauty more flawless, a music more melodious, 
 than earth can yield. My quickened memory 
 longs for it ; I want to see a vindication of my 
 past. My quickened feeling of mystery longs 
 for it ; I want to taste the tree of knowledge 
 in Thy paradise, O God. It is by life I 
 embrace Thy life ; it is by love I respond to Thy 
 
 235 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 love. It is not by being blunted that 1 shall 
 prepare to meet Thee. Brace me for Thy breath ! 
 Dower me for Thy descending Spirit ! Gird me 
 for Thy grace ! Heighten me for Thy habitation ! 
 Ornament me for Thine ordinances ! Paint me 
 for Thy picture-gallery ! Stimulate my worldly 
 powers for the service of Thy sanctuary ! When 
 Thou hast quickened me I will call upon Thy 
 name. 
 
 236 
 
The Prayer of the Mother of Jesus 
 
 "When they wanted wine, the mother of Jesus saith unto 
 Him, They have no wine."— John ii. 3. 
 
 It is not often that a scene of gaiety is made 
 a place for prayer. This was a scene of gaiety — 
 it was a marriage-feast. And this was made a 
 place for prayer — by the very mother of Jesus. 
 There is, moreover, a peculiarity about this prayer ; 
 it is a prayer for the continuance of the festivity. 
 During a time of revival I have heard of hymns 
 being sung at a football match. But that was 
 meant rather as a reminder of the things of 
 eternity than as a help to the joys of time. In 
 a very different direction is the prayer of the 
 Lord's mother designed to lead. What she asks 
 is the supply of something which is lacking to the 
 feast. The wine has failed. It might have made 
 a fine occasion for teaching the vanity of earthly 
 things. But Mary wants to make it an occasion for 
 teaching the opposite. She does not desire the 
 merriment to be damped by signs of poverty. She 
 appeals to Jesus. She does not put her prayer 
 
 237 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 into words. She simply points to the deficiency, 
 as if the fact of a deficiency would be enough for 
 Him; she says, "They have no wine." "What 
 an unspiritual prayer ! " you say ; "is it not a 
 petition for the supply of mere temporal need, a 
 request for the perishable things of the flesh ! " 
 Pause, my brother. For whom is this secular 
 object desired? Is it for the suppliant herself? 
 No ; personally, Mary cared nothing about 
 it. She wants it for a humble family in a 
 Galilean village. She wants to help the pecu- 
 niary resources of a household which has been 
 sorely strained by the necessity for an un- 
 wonted expenditure. She would like the sun 
 to shine upon the bride all through the day, and 
 she deprecates any cloud that would interrupt 
 its shining. Accordingly, she prays that no 
 untoward omen may seem to throw a shadow over 
 the nuptial pair. Is that secular ? I call it the 
 most sacred wish in the world. It mounts to the 
 altar by physical steps ; but its offering is purely 
 mental. Mary forgets all about herself ; she veils 
 herself from her own view, from her own prayer. 
 She looks into her mirror and sees — another. She 
 realises a want not hers, a need not personal. She 
 seeks the highest help in a thing which many 
 would consider a trifle ; but she seeks it for others, 
 238 
 
THE PRAYER OF THE MOTHER OF JESUS 
 
 and there is nothing so hard as to remember others 
 in trifles. Unselfishness in little matters is the top 
 of the sacrificial hill. 
 
 My brother, my sister, there is a place for your 
 prayers in the scene of gaiety. Have you ever 
 thought of the heaviness which may lie behind the 
 mask of flowers ? You expect to find heaviness 
 at Bethany— it is the place of the tombstone ; 
 when you go there, you go prepared to pray. But 
 have you never felt that Cana too has its tears ! 
 Have you never figured the hearts that are 
 famished at the feast, the souls that are burdened 
 at the banquet, the spirits that are downcast in 
 the dance ! Have you never reaHsed that beneath 
 the gay garments there may be the anticipation 
 of a " decease to be accomplished," the shadow of 
 a coming darkness, the sense of some danger to be 
 met to-morrow ! If you have not, begin to realise 
 it now ! When you go to the shining scene, put 
 a prayer-book in your heart ! Whose names will 
 you write there ? Will it be the names of those 
 who are enjoying the pleasure of the hour ? No, 
 but of those who are not enjoying it. Remember 
 those who are regardless of life's roses ! Com- 
 passionate those who are unconscious of the joy 
 of Cana ! Bleed for those who are oblivious of an 
 outward blessing 1 Pity the hearts that faint amid 
 
 239 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 the flowers, that groan in the gardens, that 
 languish in the hght of day ! Pray for their com- 
 fort at the feast ! Ask for their joy at the banquet ! 
 Long that they may be glad amid the music ! Seek 
 that they may participate in the laughter ! They 
 are too crushed for the companionship of Cana ; call 
 upon God to fit them for their joy ! So shall you 
 be partakers in the virgin's prayer. 
 
 240 
 
The Origin of Wonder 
 
 " Open Thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things 
 out of Thy law."— PsA. cxix. i8. 
 
 This is a very uncommon idea — that wonder 
 should be the result of intellectual development or 
 the " opening of the eyes." The prevailing notion 
 is the reverse— that wonder belongs to the primi- 
 tive age alike of the individual and of the race. 
 We say colloquially, "I opened my eyes in 
 astonishment " ; the psalmist's expression is the 
 converse, " I became astonished by opening my 
 eyes." What the psalmist says is that the marvels 
 of life escape us by reason of our ignorance. His 
 prayer is just the contrary of the common prayer. 
 The common prayer is, '' Make me a simple child 
 again that I may feel the mystery of all things 
 and bow with reverence before them." But the 
 psalmist says, " Emancipate me from the ignorance 
 of childhood, for it is only when I shall see with the 
 eyes of a man that I shall behold the mystery, the 
 marvel, the unfathomable depth, of that ocean on 
 whose bosom I live and move and have my being." 
 241 G 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Which is right — the common view or the Bible 
 view ? Beyond all question, the latter. Do we 
 find that the sense of wonder belongs to children ? 
 Not so. The sense of mystery is precisely what a 
 child does not feel. He asks many questions ; but 
 he will accept the crudest answers as quite 
 adequate explanations. He has not a con- 
 sciousness of limitation. He has a feeling of 
 power beyond his strength; he will put out his 
 hand to catch the moon. He does not at an early 
 date inquire where he came from. He does not 
 ask who made a watch or who made the sun. To 
 him the watch and the sun are both alive — moving 
 by their own strength, upheld by their own power. 
 His eyes are not opened, and therefore his wonder 
 is not awake. To wake his wonder you must 
 unbar the door of his mind. The mystery comes 
 with his experience — not with the want of it. I 
 do not read that men marvelled in Eden ; I do 
 that they marvelled in Galilee. Eden was as 
 wonderful as Galilee ; but the eyes were not opened. 
 Knowledge is the parent of mystery. Experience 
 is the forerunner of reverence. Only they who have 
 let down the pitcher can utter the cry, " The well 
 is deep." 
 
 Lord, there are times in which I long to get 
 back — back to the gates of the morning. I desire 
 242 
 
THE ORIGIN OF WONDER 
 
 to see again the first of things and feel the primi- 
 tive wonder — to gaze once more on life as it began 
 for me in the garden of my childhood, in the Eden 
 of my dawn. But Thou art teaching me, Thou 
 art teaching Thy psalmist, an opposite prayer, O 
 Lord. Thou art teaching me that there never was 
 a primitive wonder — teaching me that wonder lies 
 not in the rising, but in the setting, sun. Thou 
 art calling to me, not to go back, but to go forward 
 — to the burden and heat of the day, to those 
 experiences which morning cannot yield. Thou 
 art telling me that the mystery is reached at the 
 end, that the marvel is found at the close, that it 
 is " in the last days '* Thou wilt " show wonders in 
 heaven above and signs in the earth beneath." 
 Thou sendest me to knowledge to learn humility ; 
 Thou leadest me to gaze on the crystal fountain 
 that I may cast my crown at Thy feet. Who are 
 Thy poor in spirit. Thy mourners for their own 
 incompetence. Thy meek ones. Thy hungering 
 and thirsting to explore ? Thou seekest them on 
 the mount — not in the valley. Not among those 
 who have not begun to climb dost Thou search for 
 them whom wonder has made humble ; but on the 
 mountain's brow where the sunbeams play, on the 
 summit of life's hill where the light is unobstructed 
 — there dost Thou look to find them. There 
 
 243 Q 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 mayst Thou find me, O Lord ! May I reach the 
 marvel of life's mystery by the path of knowledge ! 
 May I gain the true morning in the completed day, 
 the true wonder in the finished experience, the \ 
 
 true humility on the top of the hill ! The child- j 
 
 hood which I seek lies not in yesterday but in to- i 
 
 morrow. I shall begin to marvel when Thou hast | 
 
 enlightened mine eyes. : 
 
 244 
 
Christianity in Common Life 
 
 •• His name shall be in their foreheads."— Rev. xxii. 4. 
 
 A MAN once said to me, " You carry a certificate 
 of health in your face." He was speaking of 
 physical health. But it struck me at the time, 
 and it strikes me still, that, all unconsciously to 
 himself, he was illustrating by a happy metaphor 
 the meaning of this passage. St. John says that 
 in the New Jerusalem the spiritual health of men 
 will be so good that they will carry a certificate of 
 it in their face, or, as he puts it, on their forehead. 
 The idea, of course, is that their Christian character 
 will show itself in the very front of their lives, that 
 it will be patent to the observation of every man. 
 Now, in the old Jerusalem this cannot always be 
 said either of physical or spiritual health. Many 
 people look delicate who are inwardly strong ; 
 they have health, but they do not carry it on their 
 foreheads. In like manner many people look 
 frivolous who are very serious. In a recent book 
 a minister tells us how he had received a letter 
 breathing the intensity of religious emotion from 
 
 245 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 a lady of his congregation whom, to meet in 
 society, he would deem the gayest of the gay, 
 and whom he would believe to be one not at all 
 interested in spiritual things. I would say this 
 woman had the name of Christ in her heart, but 
 not on her forehead. In the New Jerusalem, 
 however, St. John declares that there will be no 
 difference between appearance and reality ; men 
 and women will look what they are, and be what 
 they look. The Christ in the heart will be 
 advertised in the countenance. Does that mean 
 there will be only one subject of conversation in 
 the New Jerusalem ? No ; Christ is not the 
 subject of a conversation; He is the character of 
 a conversation. That which makes your converse 
 Christian is not what you speak about, but the 
 manner in which you speak. A man could never 
 carry Christ on his forehead if Christ were simply 
 a topic of theology. But Christ is an attitude ot 
 the heart — a sacrificial attitude. You may carry 
 His name on your forehead in any subject of con- 
 versation, provided you speak to delight another, 
 and not to display yourself. If you speak to 
 display yourself, your listener will always miss the 
 name on the forehead — the stamp of unselfishness ; 
 he will read the stamp of egotism. To enjoy you 
 he must see Christ in you. 
 246 
 
CHRISTIANITY IN COMMON LIFE 
 
 Lord, on my very forehead write Thy name — 
 on my social manner, on my outward presence, on 
 my secular hours ! Thou hast said, ** He that is 
 faithful in that which is least is faithful also in 
 much." Why hast Thou said that ? It is because 
 the forehead is the climax — because the life is 
 only perfected when it tinges the trivial hour. 
 "When I go into society write Thy name on my 
 forehead ! Let there be a crucifying of my 
 egotism ! Let me break my mirror ere I go ! 
 Do not let me consider what clever thing I shall 
 say ! Do not let me ponder how the wave of my 
 own words shall raise me ! Do not let me medi- 
 tate on the echoes of my voice ! Do not let me 
 study the impression I shall create of my own 
 glory ! Let me forget myself — not in oblivion, 
 but in love ! There is a forgetfulness which can 
 only come from remembrance — my remembrance 
 of my brother. Be that gift mine, O Lord ! it is 
 the sleep of Thy beloved. I would not have my 
 image hid by aught but a brother's image. I 
 would not forget myself in wine, in temper, in 
 recklessness, in despair. But I would lose myself 
 in love. I would have Thy care written on my 
 forehead — the wish to make others glad. I would 
 shine by another's light, I would bloom by 
 another's flower. I would have my words winged 
 
 247 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 by the joy of giving joy. I would sacrifice self 
 in the scenes men deem sensuous. I would help 
 my brother's social hour. I would cheer my sister's 
 domestic hearth. I would sink to a level with the 
 child's game. I would move to the music of sur- 
 mounted pleasures. I would live in the pastimes 
 of inferiors. I would manifest an interest, yea, 
 I would experience an interest, in fields of life that 
 have ceased to be gardens for me. I have kept 
 Thy religion for deep things. Plant it also on the 
 surface, O my God ! Thy name is in my heart ; 
 write it on my forehead i 
 
 248 
 
The Unconscious Service of Christ 
 
 " They gave Him vinegar to drink mingled with gall."— 
 Matt, xxvii. 34. 
 
 The drink offered to Jesus was a narcotic. It 
 was offered in mercy and it was offered by those 
 opposed to His doctrines. It was given by the 
 Roman soldiers with a view to mitigate His pain. 
 The act is deeply suggestive. I* is an act of 
 friendship performed by antagonists. We are in 
 the habit of dividing the world into Christians 
 and non-Christians. To which of the two classes 
 did these Roman soldiers belong ? They were 
 certainly not followers of Jesus ; but neither were 
 they against Him. I am told that at the Day of 
 Judgment those will be on the right hand who 
 gave Him drink, and those on the left hand who 
 did not. But here on earth He has received drink 
 from those apparently on the left hand — Roman 
 soldiers have sought to assuage His sufferings ! 
 Is it not the same still ! We are so fond of sharp 
 divisions that we forget the intermediate shades ; 
 but God does not. There are men among us who 
 at this hour are helping Jesus, and who yet profess 
 to yield no allegiance but to Caesar, They are 
 249 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 numbered among the legions, not among the 
 saints. Yet, wherever the Son of Man is cruci- 
 fied, they are there. They have not yet bowed to 
 His crown ; but they are loyal to His cross. They 
 have not adored His majesty ; but they have 
 flocked to His manger. They have not come to 
 the wedding at Cana ; but they have waited on 
 Him in the wilderness. They are absent from the 
 scene of His transfiguration glory ; but they are 
 present at His tragedy in the garden. Wherever 
 humanity is heavy-laden, wherever souls are 
 sad, wherever bodies are burdened, wherever days 
 are darkened, wherever man is mastered by the 
 physical, you will find them there. In the den 
 of poverty, by the couch of pain, at the bed of 
 languishing, on the track of fallenness, you will 
 find them there. Where Noah combats the 
 waters, where Abraham journeys homeless, where 
 Jacob lies on a stair, where Joseph weeps in a 
 dungeon, where Moses mopes in a desert, where 
 Elijah hides in a cave, where Job pines in an 
 infirmary, where the Son of Man fasts in a wilder- 
 ness, you will find them there. They see not the 
 vintage and the gold ; but they bear the vinegar 
 and the gall. 
 
 Make room for them in Thy kingdom, O Lord, 
 make room for them in Thy kingdom ! Nay, it is 
 250 
 
THE UNCONSCIOUS SERVICE OF CHRIST 
 
 we who are to make room ; " the ways of earth 
 are narrow, but the ways of heaven are wide." 
 Help us to have a blessing for Esau even though 
 he is not the child of the birthright ! May we 
 find a place in our sympathy for the men of the 
 vinegar and the gall ! There are some whose 
 faith is the prophecy of their work — and they are 
 the larger number. But, our Father, let us 
 remember that there are others among us whose 
 work is the prophecy of their faith — in whom the 
 hand precedes the eye. They are not led to the 
 manger by the star, but to the star by the manger. 
 They come only to bring gifts to a brother, and 
 one day they will find they have been serving the 
 Christ. Let us give them credit for that coming 
 day; let us accept their work as a prophecy of 
 their faith ! Let us take their service as a pre- 
 diction of their song, their fruit as an omen of 
 their foliage ! They see not yet with us eye to 
 eye ; but they can touch hand to hand. Grant us 
 their right hand of fellowship, O Lord — their 
 fellowship in work, their fellowship in counsel, 
 their fellowship in liberality, their fellowship in 
 human sympathy, their fellowship in the service 
 of man — their fellowship in what they call secular, 
 in what we call sacred ! So shall we stand 
 together beside one cross. 
 251 
 
The Comfort to Physical Inferiority 
 
 " There is no king saved by the multitude of an host ; a 
 mighty man is not delivered by much strength." — Psa. xxxiii. i6. 
 
 The doctrine of modern life is the survival of 
 the fittest. Is the psalmist in opposition to this 
 view ? No. He is quite willing to admit that 
 the fittest survive ; what he says is that their 
 fitness does not lie in the physical. He says that 
 even where the physical strength exists it is not 
 the deepest ground of success. And is he not 
 right ? Take the simile in his own mind — the 
 sway of a kingdom. The greatest kingdoms of 
 I'this world have been swayed by spiritual forces. 
 'Look at the Papacy of early days. It was the rule 
 of one frail man — without arms, without terri- 
 tories, without embattled walls, without military 
 followers, without a right to draw the sword. 
 What was the secret of his power ? Why did 
 kings hold his stirrup and emperors court his 
 favour and armies melt at his command and rude 
 barbarians bow to his desire? It was because 
 men believed in his holiness — because they held 
 252 
 
These millions could overwhelm us if they were 
 mentally strong. Theirs is the homage of matter ^^ 
 
 THE COMFORT TO PHYSICAL INFERIORITY 
 
 him to possess the Spirit of God. Or, take our 
 own Indian Empire. That to me is the miracle 
 of history — a small army holding in leash the 
 milHons of a conquered land. What is the power 
 by which a little island has bound a chain round 
 an enormous continent ? Is it holiness ? Alas, 
 no ! but it is none the less a power of the spirit. 
 
 to mind. Is it not written of the forces of animal * 
 nature, "A Httle child shall lead them." In the 
 presence of the great forest of India Britain is 
 physically but a child ; yet the myriad denizens of 
 the forest bend beneath her sway. They could 
 crush her at a blow ; to what do they bend ? To 
 that which as yet is to them a mystery — the 
 power of mind. The gigantic river has been 
 arrested by one pebble; the sweep of the blast has 
 been diverted by the single leaf of a tree. There 
 is no power on earth so secularly strong as that f 
 which sleeps within a human soul. 
 
 Remember this, thou mother with the delicate 
 babe ! Remember this when thou bendest with 
 sorrow over that cradle which seems to enshrine 
 a physical failure ! Eve christened her son by 
 the name of Abel — a vapour. The child seemed 
 so fragile as to be but a breath ; and the mother 
 253 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 viewed his future with dismay. Was she right ? 
 No ; that little pigmy in the primitive cradle was 
 the most surviving man of all the race — " he yet 
 speaketh." Remember thatf when thou lookest 
 upon the physical feebleness of thy babe ! It 
 may survive its strong brother Cain in the work 
 of the world. Its cry may be faint ; but its cry is 
 not its crown. I have seen treasures of human 
 power hidden in earthen vessels of the poorest 
 mould. I have beheld the Christmas gold glitter 
 in a manger. I have heard the songs of Bethlehem 
 in the midnight air. I have met the Son of Man 
 amid the wants of the wilderness. I have tasted 
 the wine of Cana when the world's wine had 
 ceased to flow. I have listened to the aged Jacob 
 striking the harp of a poet's youth. I have 
 marked Moses triumphing physically by prayer 
 when he was too weak to hold up his physical 
 hands. I have witnessed Elijah baffled in the 
 day of his fire and victor in the hour of his nerve- 
 lessness. I have perceived Job getting his answer, 
 not from the calm which promised strength, but 
 from the whirlwind which shattered it. O thou 
 that boldest in thine arms a feeble form, remember 
 that the frail casket may enclose a king I 
 
 254 
 
The Sanity of Paul 
 
 **I am not mad, most noble Festus." — Acts xxvi. 25. 
 
 Paul was a man of singularly sound mind. 
 What is the test of mental sanity ? It is the 
 balance of all the powers. A man may be a great 
 genius and yet want perfect soundness. So much 
 fire may have passed into his imagination that 
 the other phases of his mind may have been left 
 cold. It is not the genius that is to blame ; it is 
 the inequality of its distribution. Fancy may be 
 aflame while judgment is in ashes. Poetry may 
 have pinions while common-sense is stranded. 
 Sentiment may be soaring while the business of 
 life is prostrated. The peculiarity of Paul's genius 
 is that it avoided this disproportion. He was an 
 enthusiast, but he was an enthusiast all round. 
 He did not glow with one side of his nature and 
 pale with the other ; at one and the same moment 
 he kept a light in every room. He has a burning 
 imagination — he figures the rising of the dead; 
 but he does not forget to legislate for the interests 
 of the living. He has a profound intellect — he 
 
 255 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 reasons about eternal mysteries ; but he does not 
 forget to enforce the practice of the hour. He has 
 a boundless faith — he says faith makes a man 
 righteous; but he forgets not that faith is sub- 
 ordinate to love. He has a flaming hope — he 
 looks into the things that are unseen ; but he 
 forgets not that shadows themselves are a weight 
 of glory. He is devoted to human freedom — he 
 says that where God's Spirit is, there is liberty ; 
 but he refuses to encourage a slave to run away 
 from his master. He is wonderfully forgiving — he 
 would like to bear the sinner's penalty ; yet he 
 insists that sin should be atoned for. He is a man 
 of sacrifice — he counts not his life unto himself 
 dear ; yet in the cold of the Roman prison he asks 
 that an old cloak be sent to him which he left at 
 Troas. Paul says that God has given him "a 
 sound mind." He might well say that. I never 
 knew a plank so evenly balanced — with one 
 exception. The one exception is the life of his 
 Master. That mind was in him which was also 
 in Christ Jesus ; the length and the breadth and 
 the height of it were equal. 
 
 Lord, make me, like Paul, a sharer in the 
 
 balanced mind of Jesus ! Thou art called " the 
 
 Father of spirits"; tune the notes of my spirit 
 
 into that perfect harmony which is perfect sanity ! 
 
 256 
 
THE SANITY 'OF PAUL 
 
 It is not less enthusiasm I want ; it is enthusiasm 
 about more things. I would not have the 
 mountain lowered; I would have the plain ele- 
 vated. I would be saved from one-sidedness, O 
 Lord. I remember that Thou saidst to Abram, 
 ** Look northward and southward and eastward 
 and westward." I, too, would have that fourfold 
 gaze. It is not intensity that makes me nervous ; 
 it is intensity in a single direction. I persuade 
 myself that promotion comes only from the east ; 
 and when the east is overclouded I wring my 
 hands in despair. Point me also to the north and 
 the south and the west ! Show me that on Thy 
 head are many crowns I When I am persecuted 
 in one city, let me flee into another ! There are 
 those who have lost their head because they have 
 lost their money ; save me from that doom ! Yet 
 I would not be saved by ceasing to value money ; 
 rather would I learn that other things besides are 
 valuable. There are minds that have been 
 unhinged by a bereavement ; save me from that 
 doom ! Yet I would not be saved by loving less 
 the departed; rather would I remember unnoticed 
 flowers which on my way I have passed by. I 
 would be cured by compensation ; I would be 
 healed by an enlarged heart. Widen my interests, 
 and I shall be calm. Expand my soul, and I shall 
 
 257 K 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 be sober. Make room in my nature, and I shall 
 be unshaken by the storm. Let me see many 
 beauties, and I shall have a balanced mind. 
 Teach me how manifold is Thy grace, and I shall 
 never sink beneath a solitary cloud. I shall have 
 peace upon the sea when X have the mind of 
 Jesus. 
 
 258 
 
The Patience of Christ 
 
 ••The kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ. "—Rev. i, 9, 
 
 "The kingdom and patience!" — it sounds at 
 first as if these two things were at variance. Does 
 not a kingdom, we say, imply a sense of power ; 
 and is not patience built upon uncertainty ? Did 
 not Jesus, even in His darkest hour, know that 
 everything would yet be well with Him — that His 
 kingdom would come, that His will would be done, 
 that His name would be glorified ; was there any 
 room for patience ? Yes, and it lay just in the 
 thing which we think excluded it — certainty. We 
 are all wrong in this matter. We deem patience 
 arduous in proportion as we are doubtful of the 
 result. It is exactly the reverse — it is arduous in 
 proportion to the clearness of our hope. Let me 
 put an imaginary case. Suppose that to you there 
 came a secret revelation from heaven regarding 
 your future destiny on earth. Suppose it were 
 revealed to you, under the condition of present 
 reticence, that in the course of ten years you 
 259 R 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 would be translated into a position of great wealth 
 and power. Suppose, in addition to this, that 
 your present state was one of extreme lowliness — 
 that you were despised and rejected of men, that 
 everybody thought you a poor creature destitute 
 of mental resources and unable to make your way 
 in the world. I ask, What under these circum- 
 stances would be the quality you most needed 
 because the quality most difficult to acquire ? And 
 I answer. It would be patience. Here are you in 
 the meantime an object of contempt and pity to 
 the bystander — the specimen of a man that cannot 
 get on. Here, on the other hand, floating before 
 your inner eye, is a vision of your coming glory — 
 a vision which, the moment men see it, will raise 
 you at once in their sight to a pinnacle of admira- 
 tion and make you the idol of the hour. Would 
 not the temptation be almost irresistible to tell the 
 vision, to reveal the coming glory! Would not 
 the very certainty of the vision add to the strain ! 
 If there were any doubt about it there would be an 
 incentive to silence ; but to be reticent in sight of 
 the rainbow, to be silent in the viewing of the 
 star, to be humble in the testifying of your heart 
 that the day is sure to dawn — that is the perfection 
 of restraint, that is the climax of patience. 
 
 And that patience, O Son of Man, is Thine. 
 260 
 
THE PATIENCE OF CHRIST 
 
 Why do I marvel so at the restraining of Thy 
 power? It is because the thing restrained is 
 power. It is not passion, it is not vexation, it is 
 not impotent rage — it is power. There is a 
 patience that waits by night — and it is worthy of 
 all admiration. But Thine is a patience more 
 glorious still ; it is a patience that waits by day. 
 It is a great thing to bear the stroke of injustice 
 when I am under the shadow ; but to bear it when 
 I am in the sunshine is greater still. It is not the 
 cloudedness of Thy vision that makes Thy patience 
 with me so wonderful ; it is its clearness. There 
 are masters who are gentle with their pupils 
 because they themselves are in the mist. But 
 Thou art merciful on the mount, O Christ ; Thou 
 art patient amid the kingdom. Thou seest the 
 flower ; yet Thou bearest my frost. Thou be- 
 holdest the best robe ; yet Thou pardonest my 
 preference for rags. Thou gazest on purity ; yet 
 Thou hast compassion on my stagnant pool. 
 Thou hearest the song of jubilee ; yet Thou 
 sufferest my strains of jarring. Thine is the joy of 
 sympathy; yet Thou hast not consumed the selfish. 
 Thine is the heaven of rest ; yet Thou hast not 
 destroyed the rebellious. Thine is the beauty of 
 holiness ; yet Thou hast spared the corrupt heart. 
 Thine is the luxury of lavishing ; yet Thou hast 
 261 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 forborne to annihilate the loveless. Thine is the 
 pearl of great price; yet Thou restrainest Thy 
 hand from the worshipper of a plaything. O 
 Lord, our Lord, it is Thy kingdom that makes 
 Thy patience grand. 
 
 25a 
 
The Humility that is Not Beautiful 
 
 " Let no man beguile you by a voluntary humility." — Col. ii. i8 
 
 Is not this a strange precept ? I thought the 
 Bible wanted us all to be humble. I thought 
 Paul specially wanted us to realise that we are all 
 poor creatures. Undoubtedly; but when a man 
 becomes subject to ** voluntary humility " he does 
 not feel himself a poor creature at all. Voluntary 
 humility is want of aspiration ; it is the desire to 
 be no better. True humility is not voluntar^\ 
 There is always a pain in it. When a man beats 
 on his breast and cries "Unclean!" he is in a 
 hopeful moral state ; but he is so precisely because 
 he is not satisfied with the lowliness he confesses. 
 On the other hand, when the demoniacs cry to 
 Jesus, " Art Thou come to torment us before the 
 time ! " the sting of the situation is just the fact 
 that the man himself is not stung by it. He is 
 quite content to be what he is. His is a voluntary 
 humility. He knows quite well that his soul 
 consists of only a room and kitchen ; but he feels 
 263 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 that to enlarge it into a palace would triple his 
 troubles and multiply his expenses. He can move 
 more easily about in this narrow environment, can 
 find things closer to his hand. He prefers his 
 small garden to the courts of the Lord ; it costs 
 less, it has fewer cares. He would rather be in 
 Paris than in Paradise. The thought of heaven 
 adds a new terror to death. He resents the intro- 
 duction of sacred subjects. He resents all reports 
 of spiritual manifestation. He wants to think 
 of heaven as a vague place, a far-off place, a place 
 in the mist. His comfort is his uncertainty about 
 it. If he heard of a messenger coming from the 
 silent land, he would have him stopped. He is 
 spiritually almost in the position of a Little 
 Englander. He would not exactly tell his soul to 
 give up its colonies beyond the sea, but he would 
 say : " Never think about your colonies ; never 
 dream of them ; keep within the humble limits of 
 your own home ; live by the day and lay not up 
 your treasures beyond the needs of the hour!" 
 
 My soul, there is a false contentment which is 
 not made for thee. Humility is good, but not a 
 voluntary humility. It is well thou shouldst 
 know thyself to be in the valley, but it is not well 
 thou shouldst love to be there. Hast thou con- 
 sidered the difference between a repentant and 
 264 
 
THE HUMILITY THAT IS NOT BEAUTIFUL 
 
 an unrepentant sinner ? It lies in a very narrow 
 line — too narrow for even a microscope to see. At 
 the moment of thy repentance thou art side by 
 side in the same valley with the soul that is dead 
 in sin. The lowliness is quite equal. But the 
 unequal thing is the degree of contentment. The 
 dead soul is voluntarily humble : thou art humble 
 under protest. The dead soul is satisfied with its 
 miry clay ; thou art crying for a couch of down. 
 The dead soul is saying, " What a sweet repose !" 
 thou art singing, " O for the wings of a dove, that 
 I might fly away and be at rest! " The dead soul 
 is happy in its hell ; thou hast lifted up thine eyes 
 in torment. The dead soul sees no mountain ; 
 thou art gazing on the hills. The dead soul is at 
 home in death — it has no discomfort in the 
 garment; thou hast the sense of numbness, the 
 feeling of torpor, the stiffness of the limb, the 
 weakness of the arm, the inertness of the sinew. 
 The dead soul does not wish the organ to play, for 
 it loves not music ; thou art waiting for the notes 
 that never come. It is a thought that makes the 
 difference between him and thee; reverence thy 
 thoughts, O my soul 1 
 
 265 
 
Spiritual Chloroform 
 
 "Translated that he should not see death."— Heb. xi. 5. 
 
 The translation of the soul may precede the 
 death of the body. It was predicted of the aged 
 Simeon that " he should not see death before he 
 had seen the Lord's Christ " ; and our Lord Him- 
 self declares '* there are some standing here who 
 shall not taste of death till they see the Kingdom 
 of God." The idea was not that old Simeon 
 should never die, nor that some of Christ's 
 disciples should escape death. You will best 
 arrive at the thought by an analogy. Imagine 
 that twenty years before the discovery of chloro- 
 form a medical man had thus addressed a scientific 
 assembly : ** There are some now before me who 
 will not need to undergo any physical operation 
 until a physical operation shall become a thing 
 without pain." That would be an exact parallel 
 to the New Testament promise — only it would be 
 in the sphere of the body, not of the soul. It 
 would be the prophecy of a time coming when the 
 266 
 
SPIRITUAL CHLOROFORM 
 
 body should be raised above the susceptibility to 
 pain, " translated that it should not see the 
 coming operation." The operation would come 
 all the same, but it would come unknown to the 
 recipient. Such is the thought applied to death. 
 It is the promise of a spiritual chloroform. For 
 there is a spiritual chloroform. It frees the soul 
 from pain in the opposite way to that in which 
 the physical remedy frees the body from pain. 
 The physical chloroform acts by making the man 
 unconscious. But the spiritual chloroform works 
 by creating in the man a new consciousness. I 
 am made oblivious of my suffering, not by dark- 
 ness, but by light. If you are carried beside a 
 precipice, there are two ways in which it may be 
 hid from you ; you may shut your eyes, or you 
 may fix your eyes on a point in the heavens. This 
 latter is God's chloroform for the hour of death. 
 He does not bid us shut our eyes ; He bids us lift 
 our eyes. He does not send us to sleep; He 
 wakes us to a new impulse. He does not still our 
 fear of lethargy ; He stills it by excitement — by 
 the sight of a coming joy. He eclipses the cloud 
 by a star; He deadens the pain by a pleasure; He 
 cheers the silence by a song ; He hides the valley 
 by the image of coming wings on which we shall 
 mount as eagles into heights afar. 
 267 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Lord, send me the Divine anaesthetic for the 
 parting hour ! I would not conquer the fear of 
 death by somnolence, but rather by a new vivacity. 
 It is more life and fuller that I want. There is 
 a sleep, a freedom from care, which Thou givest 
 to Thy beloved ; but it comes not through lullaby, 
 but through love. Be this my casting out of fear, 
 
 Lord ! Translate my soul before death ! Place 
 me on the summit of Pisgah ere I reach the 
 valley of Moab ! Show me the Promised Land 
 ere I touch the banks of Jordan ! Let the dove 
 precede the desert ! Let the crown precede the 
 cross ! Let the guest-chamber precede Geth- 
 semane ! Let the transfiguration precede the 
 travail ! Keep me not waiting for the grapes till 
 
 1 enter Canaan ; send the clusters into my wilder- 
 ness ! Keep me not waiting for the daybreak to 
 end the struggle with death's angel ! Send the 
 daybreak first ; arm me by joy ; nerve me by 
 light ! Let me not halt on the thigh till I have 
 wings in the spirit ! May I not grow old in body 
 till I have taken the Child-Christ into my soul ! 
 Then shall I pass through the fiery furnace and 
 feel no pain ; for the light of Thy presence shall 
 blind me to the shadows, and the music of Thy 
 voice shall blunt me to the storm. 
 
 268 
 
The Sphere Not Prohibited 
 
 " When He had called all the people unto Him, He said unto 
 them, There is nothing from without a man that can defile him." 
 — Mark vii. 14, 15. 
 
 It is not often that Jesus " calls the people 
 unto Him " for the purpose of giving an address. 
 He commonly finds the people already gathered, 
 and the address is a matter of accident. But here 
 is a solemn exception. I say, solemn. If Christ 
 called the people to give them a message, He 
 must have thought it a very important message. 
 And so it is. I have often figured to myself a 
 strange imagining. I have thought, "What an 
 advantage it would be if an angel from heaven 
 were to walk through our streets, and were to 
 write on the door of each place of resort an 
 inscription of its character ! " Here is an inscrip- 
 tion given, not for each door, but for the whole 
 street — a sweeping inscription which covers 
 everything : " Nothing from without can defile 
 a man." It is the sweepingness that startles 
 us. " Nothing from without." What ! — nothuig ? 
 269 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 Not the theatre, not the opera, not the concert- 
 room, not the public dancing-hall ? No — not in 
 so far as these are things outside. These build- 
 ings are all right until they are painted — and it 
 is the soul that paints them. All the tarnish they 
 ever get is from the brush of the soul. You go 
 to walk on a Sunday because other people are at 
 church ; you will show them how you are emanci- 
 pated from superstition. The walk makes you 
 feel atheistic, reckless, disdainful of sacred things. 
 Have you got harm, then, from the outside land- 
 scape ? No, it is the landscape has got harm 
 from you. Why did you go out with the belief 
 that your Sunday walk was prohibited! It was 
 that belief which poisoned the whole air. You 
 thought you were doing something forbidden ; and 
 the trees of the garden refused to meet your eye. 
 The flowers had no bloom ; the fields had no 
 fragrance ; the leaves had no freshness ; the birds 
 had no music ; the breezes had no quickening — 
 your walk was spoiled by your soul. If you had 
 only made your walk a worship, if you had gone, 
 not to repel man but to meet God, the outside 
 would have smiled upon you. The roses would 
 have been radiant; the grass would have been 
 green ; the thrush would have been thrilling ; the 
 woods would have waved their welcome. The 
 270 
 
THE SPHEREN OT PROHIBITED 
 
 soul that feels God's presence in the garden will 
 be hurt by no plant of Eden. 
 
 My brother, art thou deploring thy worldly 
 surroundings ? I have heard thee lamenting the 
 gaiety of thine environment. I have heard thee 
 say : *' I have been brought up in a vortex of 
 fashion, in a whirl of social engagements, in a 
 round of outward pleasures; where have I had 
 space for Christ ? " Just there — in the very heart 
 of these outward pleasures. Why does Christ 
 say that these cannot defile a man ? Because 
 there is room for His cross in them. Thou canst 
 plant His cross in every one of them. Did not 
 Martha serve at her own feast — forget to help 
 herself in the joy of helping others ! Where 
 canst thou better take an inferior seat than in the 
 social hour ! Is there not room for sacrifice then ! 
 Then is the temptation to overshadow thy neigh- 
 bour ; thou shalt resist it in Christ. Then is the 
 temptation to absorb the interest ; thou shalt 
 conquer it in Christ. Then is the temptation to 
 spread a slander; thou shalt kill it in Christ. 
 Then is the temptation to think of thine own 
 superiority; thou shalt crucify it in Christ. Then 
 is the temptation of the flesh to override the 
 spirit; thou shalt restrain it in Christ. Then is 
 the temptation to exceed in the flowing bowl; 
 271 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 thou shalt quench it in Christ. Bring Christ to 
 thy feast, my brother ! Invite Him to thy board, 
 as Matthew did ! Seat Him at thy table, as 
 Martha did ! Consult Him on thy courses, as the 
 host of Cana did ! Send Him not into the wilder- 
 ness ! Seek Him not in thy fasting hour ! Go 
 not out to meet Him among the tombs ! Thou 
 shalt find most room for Him where the crowds 
 gather, where the joy-bells ring, where life's roses 
 lie. There is no place for His cross like the field 
 of the world. 
 
 272 
 
The Advantage of an Indirect Aim 
 
 " A certain man drew a bow at a venture, and smote the king 
 of Israel."— II. Chron. xviii. 33. 
 
 The story connected with this passage is a very 
 suggestive one. Ahab, king of Israel, was regarded 
 by the righteous as the enemy of God, and by all 
 classes as the enemy of man. Elaborate plans 
 were laid to put down his influence. These all 
 failed. Every effort to arrest his baleful hand 
 proved abortive. A whole army tried it. They 
 directed all their arrows toward the one man; 
 but they all missed him. At last a strange thing 
 happened. An obscure soldier in that army was 
 trifling with his time— shooting an arrow to amuse 
 himself. The trifle became a tragedy. The shot 
 meant for the air struck the enemy of righteous- 
 ness ; he fell, and died. The event came from a 
 hand that was not seeking it, from an act that was 
 not designing it. It is no uncommon experience. 
 How often you and I get without effort a thing 
 for whose acquisition we have striven long and 
 273 s 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 vainly ! It seems at the last to come to our very 
 door. You remember a name when you have 
 ceased to search for it, when you have begun to 
 think of something else. You exert an influence 
 when you have given up trying to do so, when you 
 have left your friend severely alone. I do not 
 think anxiety to achieve an end is favourable to 
 its achievement. I am quite sure that all anxiety 
 about a merely personal aim diverts the arrow from 
 the goal. When God promised Abraham a great 
 kingdom He added, " In thee shall all families of 
 the earth be blessed." He was to get the former 
 by shooting at the latter. I have never known a 
 man to win physical success by making physical 
 success the direct object of his aim. The mark of 
 the worldly prize is hit by aiming at something 
 different. David sang to the woods ere he was 
 overheard by kings. The broken box of ointment 
 filled with its fragrance the house of humanity ; yet 
 it was meant but for one head. The arrow that 
 strikes the mark of eternal fame is the arrow that 
 aims at the welfare of the hour. 
 
 Young man, beware of thine aim in life ! I have 
 seen books written in thy behalf with such titles 
 as these : " How to Get On," " How to Succeed 
 in the World." Send not thine arrow toward any 
 such goal ! Success comes by seeking other things. 
 
 274 
 
THE ADVANTAGE OF AN INDIRECT AIM 
 
 Men tell thee that industry promotes wealth. So 
 it does ; but I would have thee to be industrious 
 on other grounds than that. I would have thee 
 labour for love — for the help of those around thee. 
 Men tell thee that to win friends will open for thee 
 the doors of life. So it will ; but not for this would 
 I have thee bend thy bow. I would have thee win 
 friends because friendship is sweet — sweet though 
 the doors be shut, sweet though the fountains be 
 sealed. Men tell thee that the record of a good 
 life will be a testimonial to forward thine interests. 
 So it will ; but I would not have thee aim at the 
 casket instead of the gold. Goodness has often a 
 dowry ; but the dowry adds not to her beauty. 
 Put not aught before her beauty ! Doubtless her 
 wings can raise thee to a temporal height ; but the 
 view from the height can never be so beautiful as 
 the wings. Thine arrow may strike the temporal 
 fruit and bring it down ; but let it strike by 
 accident ! Aim not at the fruit ; aim at the leaf 
 and the flower ! Seek the Kingdom of God and 
 its righteousness, and there will fall into thy bosom 
 other apples as well. Seek purity, and there will 
 come peace. Seek friendship, and there will come 
 fortune. Seek goodness, and there will come glory. 
 Seek sobriety, and there will come strength. 
 Seek wisdom, and there will come wealth. Seek 
 275 s 2 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 reflection, and there will come repute. Seek 
 benevolence, and there will come blessing. Seek 
 Christ, and there will come the cup of joy. When 
 the bow shoots at an unselfish venture it will bring 
 to thy feet a personal gain. 
 
 276 
 
The Mystery of Christ^s Fame 
 
 " He could not be hid." — Mark vii. 24. 
 
 There is a great peculiarity about the fame of 
 Jesus : it came to Him through shut doors. For 
 one thing, His own will shut the door against it. 
 He wanted to be hid — to do good by stealth and 
 escape the praise of it ; He was afraid lest Divine 
 majesty should crush human love. When He 
 performed a benevolent action He charged His 
 followers that they should not make it known ; 
 when He was accidentally revealed in glor}^ He 
 said, ** Tell the vision to no man until the Son of 
 Man be risen " — removed from human sight. 
 The men who win fame in this world are usually 
 the men who strive for it. But the peculiarity of 
 Jesus is that worldly fame beset Him when He 
 was striving to avoid it. That is the paradox 
 which Paul points out in the Epistle to the 
 Philippians. He says that God gave Him a 
 name that is above every name at the very time 
 when He was performing an act of self-burial — 
 when He was emptying Himself, assuming the 
 form of a servant, wearing the fashion of human 
 poverty, taking a lowly place, carrying the burden 
 of the cross, closing His career by a premature 
 277 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 death. And then, every natural circumstance in 
 the Hfe of Jesus was unfavourable to His fame. 
 His birth was humble, His surroundings poor, 
 His home isolated, His youth toihng, His brothers 
 adverse, His era prosaic. His country a Roman 
 province. His auditors unlettered. His enemies 
 influential, His ideal unshared. Is anything con- 
 ceivable more opposed to fame ! And yet, in 
 spite of all, " He could not be hid." He has 
 broken through the thickest cloud in the universe 
 — the cloud of social obscurity. Truly was it 
 written, **At midnight there was a cry heard, 
 * Behold, the bridegroom cometh ! ' " His sun- 
 shine was unheralded by dawn ; it flashed from a 
 rayless sky. It was by night that Bethlehem's 
 plains were flooded with His glory. His light 
 shone from darkness, and the darkness compre- 
 hended it not — never has comprehended it. It 
 has been the mystery of mysteries how a bad 
 world has glorified a great soul. If there had been 
 physical ornaments round that soul, we could have 
 understood it ; but it passes human knowledge to 
 , explain how in a field consecrated to materialism 
 ' a life of spiritual beauty " could not be hid." 
 
 My soul, thou art in presence to-day of the 
 same mystery. Everything around thee is fitted 
 to hide Jesus. All the forces of the Roman 
 278 
 
THE MYSTERY OF CHRISTS FAME 
 
 Empire are reigning yet. The nations are held 
 together by an iron chain. The lands are bounded 
 by battalions ; the seas are fenced by fleets ; the 
 crowds are pulsating with passions ; the merchants 
 are greedy of gold ; the learned are steeped in 
 scepticism ; the fashionable are dizzy with the 
 dance ; the weighted are victims of the vine ; 
 the successful are cowards for the cross. Yet at 
 this moment Christ is King of Kings — crowned 
 by the very lives that are unworthy of Him. 
 Hast thou considered these words, " Behold He 
 Cometh with clouds ! " — spite of clouds. They are 
 as true now as they were on the plains of Beth- 
 lehem. Canst thou explain His empire ! Seest 
 thou not that now, as then, the deformed have 
 crowned the beautiful ! It is still the Roman 
 that is plaiting His wreath to-day. Matter brings 
 a rose to spirit. Force puts a flower on gentle- 
 ness. Selfishness pours a libation on charity. 
 Covetousness sends a greeting to sacrifice. War 
 hails the advent of peace. Corruption bends at 
 the shrine of purity. Retribution applauds the 
 dawn of mercy. Pleasure lays a diadem on the 
 cross. The tyrant bows his head to the emanci- 
 pator of the slave. Whence this mystery that is 
 manifested to thy sight ! Truly the miracle of 
 the Advent is living still ! 
 
 279 
 
Man the Vicegerent of God 
 
 " God hath given unto us the ministry of reconciliation.'*— 
 II. Cor. v. i8. 
 
 We often ask the question, Why does God 
 permit the continuance of so much sin in the 
 world? The district visitor going her rounds 
 amid scenes of moral misery, the philanthropist 
 threading his way through paths of deep pollution, 
 the home missionary coming into contact with 
 forms of life that would make the angels weep — 
 all put the question to their heart, Why does not 
 God interfere ? And to each there ought to be 
 one answer: He does interfere. He is at this 
 moment interfering ; He is interfering through you. 
 This is exactly what Paul says : " God has given 
 unto us the ministry of reconciliation." This is a 
 thing we seldom think of in our pessimistic 
 moments. We often exclaim at the sight of 
 flagrant iniquity, " I wish I were in God's place 
 for one day ! " Little do we deem that this is 
 exactly what God wishes too. God has asked us 
 280 
 
MAN THE VICEGERENT OF GOD 
 
 to stand in His place, not for one day, but for 
 many days. He has asked us to take up His 
 burden — the burden of human sin. He has asked 
 us to interfere for Him, to act for Him, to strive 
 for Him, to love for Him. God's government is a 
 vicarious government. He has never at any time 
 ruled by His own hand. At first He made His 
 angels ministering spirits; then He added the 
 ministry of His Son ; now He invites you and me 
 to join the league of pity. Why has He made His 
 government a vicarious government ? I have 
 heard men object to the belief in guardian angels 
 on the ground that God needs no help. Neither 
 does He ; but the angels do, you and I do. It is 
 no relief to the Father that other hands are lifted 
 to do His work; but it is a vast benefit to the 
 ** other hands." It is not for His sake that God 
 makes you His fellow-labourer ; it is for your own. 
 He has put the reins of the moral world into your 
 hands — not because the steeds are unmanageable, 
 but because you need training as a charioteer. 
 When you go forth to dispense your charities 
 among the destitute, never forget that you are 
 yourself the largest beneficiary. Never forget that 
 at the very moment when you lavish your gifts you 
 are the man who in God's sight is receiving the 
 costliest boon. Never forget that in the hour and 
 281 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 the power of sacrifice you are obtaining a greater 
 privilege than ever you bestow. 
 
 Lord, put me in Thy place for one day, Thy 
 moral place, the place where Thy heart dwelleth. 
 Commit to me Thy ministry of reconciliation ! 
 Let me live for one hour in Thine experience ! 
 Let me feel for one moment Thy power of loving, 
 Thy strength of sympathising! Men often pray 
 that they may enter into Thy joy ; I think I should 
 first like to enter into Thy pain. I should like to 
 feel Thy grief for man's grovelling. Thy sorrow for 
 man's selfishness, Thy pity for man's poverty. Thy 
 tears for man's temptation. The Church urges 
 me to pray to Thee for the sinner ; Thou biddest 
 me pray to the sinner for Thee ; Thou tellest a 
 Paul to cry, *' We beseech you in Christ's stead, 
 Be ye reconciled to God ! " Put Thy prayer to 
 the sinner in my heart, O Lord ; let me stand at 
 his door and knock ! Let me repeat in miniature 
 Thy Gospel mission ! Let me put on in sympathy 
 my brother's tattered robe ! Not from the height 
 of heaven let me speak to him ! Let me go down 
 to meet him in his own valley ! Let me stand on 
 the steps of his humiliation ! Let me give him 
 my hand in his heaviness ! Let me claim my 
 brotherhood in his brokenness ! Let me proffer 
 my fellowship in his fallenness ! Let me call him 
 
 382 
 
MAN THE VICEGERENT OF GOD 
 
 comrade in his condemnation ! Let my cheer 
 precede chastisement, my smile precede solemnity, 
 my comfort precede counsel ! Let me bring him 
 to the Mount before I point him to the Cross! 
 So shall I repeat Thy work of reconciliation. 
 
 883 
 
The Calamity that Hurts Not 
 
 " Daniel was taken up out of the den, and no manner of hurt 
 was found upon him, because he believed in his God." — 
 Dan. VI. 23. 
 
 It is not enough for a man to be taken out of 
 his den. When he has been raised from his 
 calamity the question remains, Has it hurt him ? 
 It seems a small thing to record of Daniel that 
 after his life had been preserved from the lions 
 " no manner of hurt was found upon him." But 
 in truth the great fear in such cases is just their 
 after-effects. Calamity has not always a good 
 influence upon a man. It changes many a soul 
 for the worse. There are hundreds who after their 
 liberation from the den of lions live as if they were 
 still in the den. There are men who have risen 
 to opulence after a hard fight with poverty and 
 who never forget their early scars. They resent 
 the years that the locusts have eaten. They pre- 
 serve a demeanour of frigidness, of sourness, of 
 cynicism towards all the events of life ; they damp 
 the enthusiasm of those who are entering in. It 
 284 
 
THE CALAMITY THAT HURTS NOT 
 
 is a great thing if a man can emerge from the den 
 not only sound in body but unharmed in mind. 
 What enabled Daniel to come forth mentally 
 whole ? The passage states the reason expHcitly 
 — " He believed in his God." There it is ! The 
 mental effects of calamity can only be conquered 
 by a mental attitude. It is a great mistake to 
 suppose that we require trust in God merely for 
 the future ; we need it as much for the past. We 
 think of Daniel as trusting in God before he was 
 thrown in ; he required an equal faith after he had 
 come out. We doubt, not only in the hour of 
 danger, but in the hour of retrospect. Faith may 
 waver over the question. What if this befall me ? 
 But it can also waver over the question. Why has 
 this befallen me ? If I am to be free from mental 
 gloom, I must see a bow in the cloud of yesterday 
 as well as in the cloud of to-morrow. God must 
 justify to my soul the shadows of last night. 
 Nothing else will obliterate my inward scars; 
 nothing else will enable me to come forth from 
 the den unhurt. 
 
 Shine on my yesterday, O Lord, shine on my 
 yesterday ! Throw back Thy radiant glory upon 
 the days that have been ! I can say, with one of 
 Thy children, " I do not ask to see the distant 
 scene " ; but I should like a glimpse of the scene 
 285 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 through which I have travelled. It is something 
 to be able to say, " I fear no future foe " ; but it is 
 not all. I may be fearless for the future, and yet 
 a coward for the days gone by. I may be looking 
 forward to another world just because I have had 
 a rose withered in this. Not thus would I meet 
 Thee, O my God. I would not come to Thee from 
 my den of lions with a heart bruised and maimed. 
 I would conquer my past as well as my future. I 
 would be satisfied with the travail of my soul. I 
 would approve my six days of seeming chaos. 
 I would discover that the evenings have blended 
 with the mornings to make one day. It is not 
 enough that Thou hast prepared an ark for the 
 flood ; I must know for what Thou hast prepared 
 the flood itself. Its waters may still roll over me 
 after they are gone ; they may have drowned my 
 heart though they have spared my life. Forbid it, 
 Lord ! Illumine my crosses of the past ! Shine 
 on the dark places of my vanished years ! Light 
 up the mystery of my adverse hours ! Unveil the 
 secret of my moments in the valley ! Let me see 
 the beauty of Marah's bitterness! Let me hear 
 the music of Bethany's mourning ! Let me learn 
 the comfort of Calvary's pain ! I shall never be 
 free from hurt till Thou hast lighted up the den. 
 
 286 
 
The Veiling from Man of Divine Energy 
 
 *' He commanded the people to sit down, and He took the 
 seven loaves, and gave to His disciples to set before them." — 
 Mark viii. 6. 
 
 Such was Christ's method of distributing the 
 bread among a starving multitude. From a 
 physical point of view it must have been highly 
 satisfactory to them — they were hungry. But 
 from a religious point of view it was perhaps a 
 little disconcerting. I think they would have 
 liked better to have been served by His own hand. 
 From a Christian standpoint one is disposed to 
 ask, If Jesus had " compassion on the multitude," 
 why did He consult the disciples at all ? They 
 certainly had very little compassion ; they did all 
 they could to damp His benevolence. Why 
 make use of such miserable agents, such retarding 
 agents ? These could only carry His bequest in 
 wagons; He could have borne it Himself on 
 wings. Why did He not use the wings? Why 
 commit an errand so momentous into hands so 
 sluggish when His own hand was burning to fulfil 
 287 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 the deed? It was because, great as was His 
 compassion for the multitude, He had a compas- 
 sion greater still for His own disciples. It was 
 sad the multitude should be hungry ; it was 
 sadder still that His followers should be blunted 
 to that hunger. We all know that the Divine 
 mercy could at any time take a short road to the 
 Land of Canaan — could send showers of manna 
 in a moment and banish want at a word. That 
 would be compassion on the multitude, but not 
 compassion on me. The multitude would have 
 the broken bread ; but I should lose the breaking 
 of the bread — the greater blessing of the two. Is 
 it not written as Christ's own testimony, "It is 
 more blessed to give than to receive " ? Shall 
 mine be only the smaller joy — the joy of the 
 world as distinguished from the joy of the Lord ! 
 Shall I have only the gift and not the giving, the 
 bread and not the breaking, the share and not the 
 sharing ! Shall the luxury of ministration be 
 confined to the heavens ! Shall it be only angels 
 that wait upon man's wilderness, that grieve over 
 man's Gethsemane ! Shall all the luscious fruits 
 of the tree of life be on the other side of death ! 
 Shall there be no grapes of Eshcol sent to me — no 
 forecast specimens of the heavenly joy! Why 
 appeal to father Abraham to help Dives! Is 
 288 
 
THE VEILING FROM MAN OF DIVINE ENERGY 
 
 earth to have no share in the inheritance of the 
 saints in light! Surely the privileges of the 
 Christian are not all beyond the grave! 
 
 Lord, there are many whom Thou canst send to 
 the Gentiles — the impoverished of the earth ; but 
 send me ! Myriads of celestial spirits wait to do 
 Thy bidding ; but send me ! I am slower in hand 
 and feebler in heart than they; yet send me! 
 Send me because I am slower in hand and feebler 
 in heart ! It is not Thy holy angels that need to 
 be trained in the joys of Paradise ; it is I. Shall 
 I receive no message in the language of heaven — 
 the language of sympathy ! Shall all Thy 
 messages of mercy be carried by Gabriel and 
 Michael, and none by me ! My parents send me 
 to school to prepare me for their world; hast 
 Thou, my Father, no school in preparation for 
 Thine! Is it not well that when I look upon 
 distress I should not see Thy help too near ! If 
 by every couch of pain I beheld Thy ministrant 
 angel I should never learn the science of 
 sympathy. I thank Thee that Thine angels are 
 invisible. I thank Thee that Thy chariot moves 
 on velvet wheels. I thank Thee that when Thou 
 risest with healing in Thy wings their beating is 
 unheard by man. I thank Thee that in Thine 
 hour of compassion for the multitude Thou hast 
 289 T 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 hid Thy hand : it has made room for mine. Thy 
 silence has been my speech ; Thy withdrawal has 
 been my walking; Thy hiding has unveiled my 
 heart ; Thy resting has caused me to run ; Thy 
 cloud has made clear my mission ; Thy pause has 
 prompted my progress ; Thine absence has aided 
 my appearing; the shadow over Thy face has 
 been the shining of mine. I bless Thee, O Lord, 
 that Thou hast left a vacant spot for me. 
 
 290 
 
The Lesson which Makes Obedience 
 Light 
 
 "Though He were a Son, yet learned He obedience by tho 
 things which He suffered." — Heb. v. 8. 
 
 I UNDERSTAND the meaning to be that Christ 
 learned the value of obedience from the adverse 
 things of life. The common view as to the value 
 of obedience is the opposite ; we think it is learned 
 by the wearing of flowers. A father very com- 
 monly says to his son, " If you conduct yourself 
 as I desire, I will give you a handsome allowance ; 
 when you transgress, it will be withdrawn." His 
 object is to teach his son obedience by making him 
 learn the value of luxuries. But here it is the 
 reverse; the Child-Jesus is taught the profit of 
 obedience by learning the value of life's thorns. 
 In Chrisfs experience this is universally true ; the 
 crown of His obedience has come from His cross. 
 In looking back He feels that the glory of sub- 
 mission to the Father's will has been found by 
 Him, not in reaping the fruits of Eden, but in 
 291 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 reaping the fruits of Gethsemane — that the grain 
 of wheat has flourished precisely in that spot 
 where it has fallen into the ground and died. 
 But we imagine this to be something abnormal, 
 something unique, something which does not 
 apply to us. In truth it is the " law of the 
 spirit of life." There will come to you a time 
 here or elsewhere when you will learn the glory of 
 that obedience which now puts you under a cloud. 
 But it is the cloud that will teach you its glory. 
 You look back on the hours you spent in an office, 
 ground down under the pressure of hard work. 
 What is your verdict ? Do you say, " It was 
 worth while to be obedient and not abandon my 
 career, for I have now become free and rich and 
 independent, and can forget all the hardships of 
 yesterday " ? No, rather will your verdict be : 
 " It was worth while to submit to hardships, for 
 these hardships have made me a man. I bless 
 God that He strengthened me to bear my thorns, 
 for I am indebted to my thorns more than to my 
 roses. It is the briars that have braced me. It is 
 the storms that have steadied me. It is the nights 
 that have nerved me. It is the disappointments 
 that have dowered me. It is the losses that have 
 leavened me. It is the heart-aches that have 
 humanised me. It is the misadventures that 
 292 
 
THE LESSON WHICH MAKES OBEDIENCE LIGHT 
 
 have made me manly. It is the buried seeds that 
 have given me bloom. I have learned the glory 
 of obedience by the things v^hich I have suffered." 
 My Father, never let me say of the physical 
 tares of life, " An enemy has done this ! " Never 
 let me refuse a cup because it is bitter nor a cross 
 because it is heavy ! I do not say, " Help me to 
 believe that one day they will be superseded ! " I 
 ask a deeper faith than that ; help me to believe 
 that one day they will be glorified ! My lot has 
 been to dwell in a hut amid the desert sands, and 
 I have submitted without murmuring ; I have felt 
 that obedience was my duty. But I hope yet to 
 learn that obedience was my glory. How shall I 
 learn that, O my Father ? Will it be by trans- 
 ference to Thy house with many mansions ? That 
 would not vindicate my hours of privation; it would 
 only proclaim a release from the days of school. I 
 want better than that, my Father. I want school 
 itself to be irradiated. I want to be magnified in 
 the things which I have suffered, I want the old 
 hut to be one of Thy many mansions. I want to 
 come back to my ancient wilderness and find it a 
 great metropolis. I want to feel that my residing 
 there has something to do with the change — 
 that I planted one rose which blossomed, shed one 
 beam which kindled, brought one breeze which 
 
 293 
 
MESSAGES OF HOPE 
 
 fanned the spark of life. Build up my waste 
 places, O my God ! Crown my crosses ; gild my 
 Gethsemanes ; beautify my Bethanys ; wreathe 
 my reverses ; make steps of my sorrows ; bring 
 treasures from my trials ; strike music from my 
 mourning; reveal that my road to Paradise was 
 the pathway of my pain ! I shall learn the glory 
 of obedience when I see my desert's bloom. 
 
- i 
 
1 
 
 Date Due ••' 
 
 MY 17 '4? 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■J .'5 
 
 
 
 
 "Itmam"' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 3UNJ) ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^