BV 4585 
 ,D4 
 Copy 1 
 
A Romance of Providence. 
 
 Being a History of the Church of the Stran- 
 gers, of New York, of which 
 
 CHARLES F. DEEMS, D.D., is Pastor. 
 
 Edited by Joseph S. Taylor. 
 
 The work contains 
 
 A Finely Executed Portrait of DR. DEEMS, 
 
 Together with other illustrations especially designed for it, 
 
 which render it one of the most attractive books 
 
 of its kind. 
 
 The Chrhtia.it at Work says : " Many who have hitherto known but little of 
 the marvellous workings of this Church, yet have heard of its existence, will be 
 deeply interested in the srirring recitals of its triumphs." 
 
 The National Baptist says : " The history is certainly fascinating. The story 
 is well told, well illustrated, and deserves a careful perusal." 
 
 H. C. Hovky. D^D., in the Religious Herald^ says: u It is more fascinating 
 than most works of fiction." 
 
 Christian Advocate (Raleigh, N. C.) says : " It is a book to be read by Pastor 
 and by Church members of all denominations of Christians. It is brimful of practi- 
 cal suggestions, and the fact that so large a portion of the life and history of Dr. 
 Deems is interwoven with this surprising narrative will give it additional interest to 
 many readers." 
 
 Wesleyan Christian Advocate says: " It is useful. The book is worth many 
 times its cost," 
 
 The Chautauquan says : " Readers will find it an interesting and profitable 
 work, and one which may suggest to others methods of Christian work." 
 
 Andrew A. Lipscomb, D.D., LL.D., formerly Chancellor of the University of 
 Georgia and Emeritus Professor in the Vanderbilt University, saysj " 'A Romance 
 of Providence ' is most interesting, and it sustains its well-chosen title. I am heart- 
 ily glad that this volume has been given to the church and to the world, the narra- 
 tive is most attractive and inspiring — nay, more, it is really inspiring." 
 
 256 pp. cloth. Price, $1.25, net, post-paid. 
 
 WILBUR B. KETCHAM, Publisher, 71 Bible House, N.Y. 
 
Sunshine for Dark Hours 
 
 A BOOK FOR INVALIDS, 
 
 COMPILED BY 
 
 CHARLES F.^DEEMS, D.D., LL D., 
 
 Pastor of the Church of the Strangers, New York. 
 
 New York . 
 WILBUR B. KETCHA.M. 
 
 Edinburg: JAMES GEMMELL, 
 
 1889. 
 
^nM 5& 
 
 
 If this little book prove acceptable it may be followed by 
 another. Contributions, original and selected, are respectfully 
 requested. Send -what has been a comfort or a help to you, It 
 may help or comfort another. Let your name and address ac- 
 company it. Forward it to the compiler of this volume, care of 
 the publisher, whose address is on the title-page. 
 
 Copyright, 1888, by Charles F. Deems 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS, 
 
 & 
 
 My Own Case. 
 
 At the age of. eighteen I quit college licensed 
 to preach. I commenced my lectures in the 
 University of North Carolina at the age of 
 twenty-two. At the first date I weighed ninety- 
 five pounds, at the latter one hundred and five. 
 Until about three years ago I never knew what 
 it was to spend a day without some ache or 
 pain or sense of uneasiness or discomfort. 
 
 I have preached on the four continents in a 
 ministry covering forty-nine years and two 
 months, and in all that time have been kept 
 from the pulpit by bodily indisposition only 
 eight Sundays, and four of those were occa- 
 sioned by the spraining of an ankle. 
 
 On the third Sunday of July, 1866, I com- 
 menced the labor which originated the " Church 
 of the Strangers."" It began by an engagement 
 to preach four Sundays in the chapel of the 
 University on Washington Square, in the city 
 of New York. That engagement was extended 
 until a congregation grew around me which 
 crystallized into a regular Catholic Apostolic 
 church, wholly independent but working in 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 loving concord with all the other churches of 
 Christ in the great metropolis. I preached eight 
 years and five months with but one Sunday 
 vacation ; then I spent three weeks in Florida, 
 and then worked on with very little rest until 
 January, 1880. Then I spent six months on a 
 visit to the Holy Land. Returning, I was in my 
 pulpit from the second Sunday in July of that 
 year until the first Sunday in September of 1888, 
 preaching in that or some other pulpit every 
 Sunday except two, taking in the meantime only 
 four days of real vacation, between two Sundays. 
 During twelve of those years I was editor of, 
 first the Sunday Magazine and then of Chris- 
 tian Thought, which latter I am still editing; 
 and have had on my shoulders the responsibility 
 of the presidency of the American Institute of 
 Christian Philosophy since its formation in the 
 summer of 1881. 
 
 On the first Sunday in September of this 
 year I fell in my pulpit while leading the 
 prayers of the congregation. I was unconscious 
 but a few moments. Two dear friends who are 
 members of the Church of the Strangers, Drs. 
 Albert L. Turner and Charlton E. Gulick, 
 united with Prof. Janeway in exiling me ; and 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 now for three months I have not seen the inside 
 of that beloved church. 
 
 I make this record for three purposes. 
 
 (1) I wish to set up an Ebenezer to the good 
 grace of the Lord our God who hath led me 
 thus far. 
 
 (2) I wish to testify that I firmly believe 
 that I never should have endured such a strain 
 of work for so long a time if I had not, with a 
 considerable degree of conscientiousness, obeyed 
 the Sabbath law by keeping one day in each 
 week sacred from the intrusion of all pro- 
 fessional studies and labors. 
 
 (3) In sackcloth and ashes I wish to set up 
 my case as an " alarming example "to any other 
 minister of our Lord Jesus Christ who may 
 be tempted to be as unwise in this particular as 
 I have been, and to urge upon all congregations, 
 having such a pastor as I have been, to unite 
 in making him behave more sensibly on pain of 
 peremptory dismissal. 
 
 It is very gratifying to be able to say that 
 the first two weeks of my exile were cheered by 
 the loving attentions of a Christian family at 
 the foot of the Berkshire hills in Rensselaer 
 county, in this State, and the remaining eleven 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 have been spent in the Sanatorium at Dansville, 
 N. Y., under the care of Dr. James H. Jackson. 
 
 While editor of the Sunday Magazine I was 
 accustomed to give a chapter in each number 
 called the "Invalid's Portion." In the Sana- 
 torium I have met about two hundred ladies 
 and gentlemen from all parts of this country 
 and some from foreign lands. They have con- 
 stituted a more cheerful, mutually forbearing, 
 kind, and Christian family than I ever dreamed 
 existed on this planet. Their personal kindness 
 to me will be one of the dearest chapters for 
 memory both in this world and in the next. 
 At morning prayers I read several little things 
 and invited any in the house, who might feel so 
 disposed, to send me original or selected articles, 
 such as they thought would be interesting to in- 
 valids. In that way grew this little volume to 
 which one of the ladies gave the name of " Sun- 
 shine for Dark Hours." It is published as a 
 souvenir and in the hope that it will be profit- 
 able to many a person shut in by sickness from 
 the activities of ordinary life; and to them, on 
 my birthday, it is now dedicated. 
 
 Chaeles F. Deems. 
 
 December 4th, 1888. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. i 
 
 A Song at Midnight. 
 
 " Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns, 
 The earliest pipe of half -awakened birds." 
 The Poet sings of slumb'rous chirp to greet 
 
 The first faint flush in tender eastern skies, 
 
 With pause of fuller song, till richer dyes 
 Define the dim horizon. But more* sweet 
 It is, 'neath midnight's star-wrought vault — full meet 
 
 To arch that blossom-broidered land which lies 
 
 In southern beauty, — with a rare surprise 
 To hear the mocking-bird his strain repeat. 
 Then, mimic art forgetting, forth he flings 
 
 His rapture to the stars; the listening air 
 Perfumed with jasmine incense, lends it wings. 
 
 So thou, my Soul, thy melody may bear 
 In sorrow's shadowy night — Faith upsprings 
 
 Beyond the stars, nor waits the daybreak fair. 
 
 Miriam P. Mason. 
 
 LIFE FROM A WHEELED CHAIR. 
 
 [This article first appeared in The Advocate and Guardian, 
 and was afterwards published by the husband of the writer 
 in a pretty ten cent volume and has been widely circulated, 
 giving help to many similarly afilicted. It may be ordered from 
 Mr. Daniel Waterman, Utica, N. Y. ] 
 
 That life is a battle goes without saying. 
 And battles are always interesting to read about, 
 to hear of, and even to look upon, provided we 
 are at a safe distance. There is something in 
 heroism that captivates us, inspires us ; but if we 
 
8 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 are in. the midst of a face to face, hand to hand, 
 inch by inch conflict, in whatever aspect it may 
 appear to outsiders, to those personally con- 
 cerned in it the heroic element is not apparent. 
 That is left to be embodied in song or story, 
 or cherished in memory, long after the com- 
 batants have gone beyond the reach of fame 
 or glory. If we live in this world we must 
 fight or shirk; and the most of us, in our pres- 
 ent depraved, mortal conditions, like to fight 
 something or somebody. But we all would 
 like to choose our foes, our battle-fields, our 
 ammunition and our generals. 
 
 A friend suggested that I should describe 
 "The daily combats of a confirmed invalid." 
 No easy task, I assure you. 
 
 I have said that we all like to choose our 
 battle-fields. Mine had been an active, busy 
 life, amid pleasant surroundings, and with 
 more freedom of body and mind than falls to 
 the lot of most women. Before my illness, I 
 could walk and run like a girl; and nothing 
 but the indignity it would offer to my gray 
 hairs prevented me from jumping over the last 
 thiee steps of every flight of stairs I came 
 down. But the blow came suddenly, and, 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 almost in a moment, I was disabled, crippled, 
 helpless, ordered to the rear by that fearful 
 disease, rheumatism. 
 
 At first I was conscious only of those in- 
 describable agonies which accompanied my 
 torturing malady. To be out of pain I would 
 have given a kingdom ; at times my own soul. 
 I would have relinquished the love that was 
 dearer than life, for one hour's respite. 
 
 After months of racking pain, succeeded 
 months of exhaustion and depression, in which 
 the strongest feeling that possessed me, was to 
 be allowed to crawl away into some dark corner 
 alone and die. Even the love and sympathy of 
 friends, the tenderness and unwearied kindness 
 of my physicians fell unnoticed and uncared for. 
 To die was bliss, was heaven. But I was not to 
 die. I was to live, but how ? To be carried 
 where I had walked; to be helped and tended 
 and waited upon; I, whose motions had been 
 so quick, that while others were getting ready 
 to move, " could have gone, and done, and got 
 back again " ; to look upon the world from my 
 chamber windows, or catch passing glimpses of 
 it from brief outings in a wheeled chair. These 
 were my captain's orders ; this my battle-field. 
 
10 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Mind, soul and heart, all but the body rose up 
 in mutiny. " This can not — shall not be," I 
 said. " This is to be," was the answer : 
 
 Yours not to make reply, 
 Yours not to reason why; 
 Yours is to live, not die: 
 No one has blundered. 
 
 I am not to be discharged from the service, 
 I am to be kept in it, detailed for such duties 
 as my weakness and wounds will permit. I 
 must still wear the uniform and keep my 
 armor bright. And the warfare that I must 
 wage can not be conducted on any prearranged 
 regulation plan. It consists mostly of single- 
 handed skirmishes with guerillas. They swoop 
 down upon me in the shape and guise of my 
 "wants," at the very break of day, for I awake 
 generally with the sun. 
 
 I never realized how our whole life is made 
 up of gratified wants, until I came to this ex- 
 perience. I want to turn over in bed ; I can't. 
 I want to get up ; I must wait till it is time. 
 I never did when I was well ; I rose out of 
 season as well as in season if the desire pos- 
 sessed me. I want to be bathed and dressed, 
 and have my hair brushed and see the morning 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 11 
 
 paper, and oh ! how I do want to go out into 
 the kitchen and look into the refrigerator and 
 the pantry, and to arrange the dishes a little 
 differently on the breakfast table, and pour out 
 the coffee for my husband, putting in just the 
 right quantity of cream and sugar, as I used to 
 do. But instead, I am to sit by and look on, 
 being the constant recipient of the most loving 
 attentions, but unable to do even one thing for 
 myself or for anybody else. 
 
 Oh, the delight there is in the daily serving 
 one's self as well as those we love. If you 
 don't believe it, just allow yourself to be tied 
 hands and feet for a month, and try being 
 served. Do you suppose the angel Gabriel 
 could button your shoes, or pin your collar, or 
 tie your bonnet strings, as you would do it 
 yourself? Did anybody ever arrange your 
 books, or your flowers, or your furniture pre- 
 cisely as you would do ? It might be a thou- 
 sand times better, but your personality is 
 absent, and one might as well try to wear 
 somebody else's clothes and feel fitted, as to 
 attempt to live comfortably in another's sur- 
 roundings ; and an invalid's surroundings are 
 not her own, except to a limited extent. 
 
12 SUNSHINE FOLl DARK HOURS. 
 
 Then besides these guerilla troops of one's 
 wants, are the daily combats with aggravations. 
 My handkerchief has fallen from my lap, and I 
 cannot reach it, and my nurse is for a moment 
 beyond call. My book is just an inch and a 
 half beyond my finger's touch. There is a 
 fly crawling on the back of my neck, gloating 
 in the knowledge that he can't be brushed off 
 by me. A large bumble bee has flown into 
 the room and is circling around my head with 
 malice in every buzz. My foot itches, my arm 
 aches, there's a hair-pin pulling at a single hair, 
 and I, helpless, can only sit still and meditate on 
 the total depravity of the entire animate and 
 inanimate creation, thus to take advantage of a 
 fallen foe. And I look at the Irishman in 
 front of the house, bringing in coal, and a 
 Dutch woman washing my neighbor's win- 
 dows, with a feeling of positive envy, such as 
 in the days of health I had never felt for any 
 mortal man or woman. 
 
 A confirmed invalid is liable at any moment 
 to sudden and violent attacks of other mala- 
 dies than the one in whose constant grip he is 
 held. We all know that when a powerful 
 enemy is making things lively for any country, 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 13 
 
 then is the time for a general rebellion among 
 the colonies. Sinews, joints and muscles have 
 joined forces, and stiffly refuse to obey my 
 orders. My heart and lungs, stomach and liver, 
 get up little scrimmages on their own individ- 
 ual account ; and all through my system there 
 is created a state of things which strongly re- 
 sembles the condition of our country during 
 the late "unpleasantness." 
 
 Besides, invalids are especially at the mercy 
 of their nerves; and of all the lawless, con- 
 temptible, treacherous disturbers of the peace 
 of one's body, nerves stand at the head. Mine 
 occasionally run riot. At times I feel myse]f 
 in the hands of a wild mob ; I can't conquer 
 them as I used to ; or frighten them, or reason 
 with them, or pacify them. They assert them- 
 selves in every inch of my body. Strong- 
 nerved lookers-on will say sometimes, when I 
 am writhing and cowering in their cruel grasp, 
 " Don't be alarmed, it is nothing serious ; this 
 is only a nervous attack." Who is alarmed? 
 And if there isn't anything serious in it, there 
 certainly isn't anything funny. What would 
 those antediluvian sinners have thought if they 
 had heard Mrs. Noah, looking calmly out from 
 
1 4 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 the windows of her refuge as they were just 
 going under, placidly remark, " Don't be alarm- 
 ed, this is only a deluge." And how soothing 
 to the feelings of a man who has been blown 
 out of his very boots and landed half a mile 
 from his home, to be told complacently, as he 
 shoots overhead, by some one looking up from a 
 tornado cave, " Don't make a fuss, a cyclone 
 isn't anything." My state of mind is somewhat 
 similar when I am quietly assured that " nerv- 
 ousness is nothing." 
 
 But there came to me a more bitter struggle 
 than any of these I have mentioned. It was 
 when realizing that my life was hopelessly 
 ruined, my rebellious will, my questioning 
 heart and impatient temper, my whole self, 
 gathered itself together for a desperate, but 
 impotent resistance. But this terrible struggle 
 was fought to its bitter end ; and at last there 
 came to me a childlike trust in the wise order- 
 ings of Him whom we call " Our Father." 
 Then a new chapter opened in the history of 
 my experiences. There is a peace born of 
 struggle, a victory secured by defeat. And I, 
 sitting day by day in my wheeled chair, look- 
 ing out upon the world, in which I shall never 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 15 
 
 take an active part again, feel that there have 
 come compensations which are real and satis- 
 factory, and I am glad to be able to testify to 
 them for the sake of my sister sufferers. I can 
 only touch upon a few. 
 
 Of two things I am profoundly conscious. I 
 have a body, a battered wreck of a body hardly 
 worth the name, but the body is not I. 
 
 There were times when pain and weakness 
 seemed to have gained a temporary mastery; 
 but underneath the fiercest agony and the ut- 
 most exhaustion, through delirium and fainting, 
 when the very shadow of death hovered close 
 to my side, a something within me, not flesh 
 but spirit, still remained unconquered. I can't 
 describe it, I only felt it ; and, ignorant and un- 
 scientific woman that I am, I can stand and 
 smile calmly and confidently in the face of all 
 the naturalistic theories of our scientists, and 
 be knocked down flat by their specious argu- 
 ments and logic, and after every "knock-down," 
 I will pick myself up and say as I said to 
 disease, " There is something inside of me which 
 you have not, which you can not touch. My 
 body imprisons me, fetters me; my brain 
 wearies me, my heart saddens me, but there is 
 
] 6 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 something still left which, is not imprisoned 
 or fettered, wearied or saddened. I feel it, I 
 know it. Explain it." 
 
 Then from the axis of my wheeled chair the 
 world itself has a different and ever-changing 
 horizon. The circle sometimes so small, fifteen 
 feet square bounds it, then so large that it 
 stretches far beyond the slopes of the hills 
 north and south, and the sun-tinged clouds of 
 the east and west. When self is in the centre, 
 it is the fifteen feet. When my thoughts are 
 wandering off to where other sufferers, crippled 
 soldiers like myself, lie, where is the limit? 
 The brotherhood of suffering is as wide as the 
 brotherhood of man ; and when one can open the 
 heart and drive the demon of self out, it does 
 not stand empty long. There are angels just 
 outside waiting to come in; pity, sympathy, 
 tenderness, and love. And there is this com- 
 fort always : while we must not be selfish, we 
 can be strongly individual and unconventional. 
 The world goes on ; we are not in it, happy are 
 we if not of it. Society runs in grooves and 
 ruts, and our church life has its rules and rou- 
 tines ; I am independent of both. What do I 
 care, for instance, for the fashions ? My gowns 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 17 
 
 are only subject to the laws of comfort and 
 adaptability. 
 
 " Bustles may come, and bustles may go, 
 My wrappers go on forever." 
 
 I needn't dress for dinner, for tea or for 
 breakfast for that matter. Mrs. Grundy would 
 make no remarks whatever if I should sit up 
 in bed and drink my coffee attired in an afghan 
 and my stockings. Society makes no demands 
 upon me, does not ask the first thing of me. 
 No calling upon people that you don't care a fig 
 about, simply because they are in your set, or 
 your church, or your neighborhood. And what 
 are lunches and dinners and five o'clock teas, 
 and kettle-drums to me ? Or church fairs, or 
 hospital bazaars, or charity theatricals? Oh, 
 the bliss of not being put upon this committee, 
 or that committee, wearing out your shoes and 
 your patience, neglecting your husband's but- 
 tons and stockings, to do that which is often a 
 weariness to the flesh, and a positive injury to 
 the spirit. 
 
 But although society's doors are shut to me, 
 that which makes true society, friends, ah ! 
 My pen fails me here, my eyes fill, my heart 
 throbs as I write of them. I never dreamed 
 
18 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 that such love and generosity, and tenderness 
 and sympathy were in the world. The first 
 anemone or trailing arbutus of the spring is 
 sent to me ; the last rose of the summer gar- 
 den is culled for me. Rooms fragrant with 
 flowers, while the winter winds howl without ; 
 luscious fmits heaped in daintiest dishes to 
 tempt the appetite, and sweeter and more re- 
 freshing than all, the words that have fallen 
 from friendly lips. The brave, cheery words 
 of my doctor, words even more helpful and 
 strengthening than the tonics he brings. The 
 comforting, quieting assurances of my pastor, 
 the pettings, and coddlings, and caresses of 
 those nearest and dearest, and the helpful 
 hands everywhere stretched out, for the thou- 
 sand offices which helplessness requires. These 
 can not be enumerated or summed up by any 
 arithmetic I have ever studied. Occasionally, 
 a well-meaning but " tactless " visitor will rasp 
 me by allusions or comparisons; mournful 
 allusions to her own wretched state of 
 health, when she is enjoying a physical condi- 
 tion I should considei* paradisiacal, or compar- 
 isons of my blissful condition with some more 
 deeply afflicted sufferer, whom I can not help, 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 1 9 
 
 or insinuating that different medical treatment 
 might have resulted in my entire recovery. 
 Then there are still left in this world unmistak- 
 able descendants of Job's three comforters, 
 whose pious admonitions, kindly meant, but in- 
 judiciously expressed, act upon me in certain 
 nervous conditions like the breathings of Satan. 
 They arouse in me such a mortifying exhibition 
 of the old Adam, that I have to make several 
 excursions into the valley of humiliation and 
 repentance before I can recover my spiritual 
 equilibrium. But such visitors are few and 
 far between, not worth mentioning. They are 
 only little slivers, that irritate for the time, but 
 when removed are easily forgotten. 
 
 Among the pleasantest experiences of my in- 
 valid life are the new friendships I have formed. 
 Friends whose faces I have never seen, by let- 
 ter, by messages, by books, have knocked at 
 my chamber door and been welcomed in ; and 
 by some spiritual magic have grown into old 
 friends at once. I have one in my mind, who 
 folded a piece of herself in a little silken 
 banner which, hanging over my couch, whispers 
 a perpetual message of peace and comfort. 
 
 Books are becoming more and more to me 
 
20 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 like living people. I am only able to read by- 
 snatches, and am learning to catch things on the 
 fly. I have to do with books as I do with the 
 dainties sent to my table; a taste here, a sip 
 there, is all that is permitted me. One would 
 think that the mixture of dishes served up to 
 me would produce a mental dyspepsia. Shakes- 
 peare and Samantha Allen, Browning and Uncle 
 Remus, Fenelon and Sam Jones, Tennyson's last 
 poem, and "The Owl and the Pussy Cat," be- 
 sides occasional nibbles at the literature of the 
 day; a little theology, or science, or poetiy, 
 flavored with delicious extracts sent to me in 
 little cards and pretty books. Each and all en- 
 joyed without a twinge of conscience either as to 
 the time or the manner of my literary lunches. 
 No neglected household duties stare me in the 
 face ; no uncomfortable suspicion that I ought 
 to be doing something else. My conscience is 
 behaving with great discretion in regard to 
 most things, particularly on the subject of my 
 " doings." A friend sent me this scrap of con- 
 densed wisdom, worthy of Solomon : 
 
 " Do what you can, 
 Not what you cannot ; 
 Not what you think ought to be done, 
 Not what you would like to do ; 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 21 
 
 Not what you would do if you had more time, 
 Not what somebody else thinks you ought to do, 
 But do lohai you can." 
 
 Sewing, knitting, crocheting, embroidery, my 
 piano, household cares,- these are things of the 
 past. What can I do ? Only one thing : I can 
 write. My first attempt, after a year of utter 
 helplessness, was to write a note of ten words, 
 with the softest crayon pencil. After some 
 months I wa3 able to hold a stylograph and 
 write an hour at a time. I am now struggling 
 with a typewriter. As I am only able to use 
 one finger, it is slow work, but I am gaining 
 upon it. Scribbling was one of my youthful 
 pastimes and follies. We do not always out- 
 grow 7 them. 
 
 One childish trait, lost for a time, has come 
 back to me : an enjoyment of the little pleasures 
 of life. 
 
 I look out upon the earth with almost child- 
 ish eyes, on the flowers and birds, the clouds 
 and the sunshine. I forget that there are theo- 
 ries of evolution, and natural selection, and 
 wind currents, and ether waves. All speak 
 straight to my heart, as if they came fresh and 
 new from the hand of God. Sometimes I am 
 
22 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 afraid that my interest and sympathy will be too 
 much drawn away from the human in this 
 world. I am much more interested in the do- 
 mestic affairs of a pair of white doves, just out- 
 side the library window, than I am in those of 
 my neighbors; particularly since the mother 
 dove died and the disconsolate widower, after 
 driving me nearly wild with his mournful 
 cooing, suddenly brought home a young step- 
 mother, which, of course, created a disturbance 
 at once. And my righteous soul has been very 
 much exercised about the irregular life a profli- 
 gate robin is leading. He tunes up at all hours 
 of the night with a reckless jollity that suggests 
 bacchanalian revels. And I, lying awake in my 
 bed, have mildly remonstrated with him for 
 such conduct. 
 
 An invalid's nights are fruitful sources of 
 queer fancies and vivid imaginations. For 
 months my sleeps were a series of " cat naps." 
 In the intervals I have built hospitals, and com- 
 posed verses, fortunately forgotten by morning; 
 I have gone down into " Wonder Land " with 
 Alice, and "Back of the North Wind" with 
 Macdonald. At other times I have counted the 
 clock-ticks, and conjugated French verbs, and 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 23 
 
 watched swinging pendulums and jumping flocks 
 of sheep, in my vain endeavors to go to sleep ; 
 but sleeping or waking, by night and by day ; 
 through visions and fancies, the fact of my in- 
 valid condition is ever present with me. 
 
 So my chapter of experiences ends. 
 
 This outline of my personal history for four 
 years is incomplete, but as far as it goes, true in 
 every particular. If it were all filled in, it 
 would make a book equal to that Chinese novel 
 in two hundred volumes. The mystery of 
 suffering completely baffles us, but the ministry 
 of pain can be partially understood if we are 
 willing to learn the lesson. If it can do nothing 
 else for us, it can bring us into fellowship with 
 the "Captain of our salvation," who, Himself, 
 was made "perfect through suffering." 
 
 Patience is the ballast of the soul that will keep it 
 from rolling and tumbling in the greatest storms. 
 
 — Bishop Hopkins. 
 
 It is impossible for that man to despair who remem- 
 bers that his Helper is omnipotent. — Jeremy Taylor. 
 
24 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Not in Vain ! 
 
 Not in vain, oh not in vain, 
 
 Is the sowing of the seed : 
 Though in the ground it long hath lain, 
 
 It will grow to bless man's need, 
 And the larger wealth will bring, 
 For seeming oft a hopeless thing. 
 
 Not in vain, oh not in vain, 
 
 Is the earnest life and true, 
 For its record shall remain 
 
 All succeeding ages through, 
 And for this — that it hath been, 
 Other souls to virtue win. 
 
 Not in vain, oh not in vain, 
 
 Is the gift however small, 
 If in trusting love we fain 
 
 Will bring it Him who loveth all, 
 And lay it at His blessed feet, 
 Who will receive the offering sweet. 
 
 Not in vain, oh not in vain, 
 
 Trial sore and anxious fear, 
 If at last sweet peace we gain, 
 
 And the Dear Lord's voice may hear, 
 As we yield our fleeting breath — 
 "Faithful stewards unto death ! " 
 
 Mrs. Sarah B. Kitchen. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 25 
 
 James Brainerd Taylor's " Miss W ." 
 
 Some of those situations in life which appear, 
 at first sight, least favorable to extensive useful- 
 ness, may be so improved by a holy disciple as 
 to become a fountain of many streams. In the 
 memoir of James Brainerd Taylor, there is 
 
 frequent mention made of a Miss W . 
 
 The name of that lady was Pamela Wigton. 
 While spending the winter of 1839 in the city 
 of New York, the Rev. Mr. Janes (afterwards 
 Bishop Janes) invited the writer of this sketch 
 to take an appointment to preach every third 
 Thursday night, in a private house, in conjunc- 
 tion with himself and Dr. Bangs. The invita- 
 tion was accepted. I found the place in the 
 third story of a house in a small street in the 
 lower end of the city. A long, dark, narrow 
 passage, where two persons could scarcely walk 
 abreast, led to a winding flight of stairs. At 
 the head of this I found a room of moderate di- 
 mensions, very plainly, but very comfortably, 
 and even neatly furnished. Propped with 
 cushions in a rocking-chair, sat a lady of about 
 fifty-five years of age, very interesting in her 
 whole appearance, but very emaciated, and 
 almost unable to assist herself in any respect. 
 
26 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 The oftener I visited her, the more and more 
 lovely did she appear. For more than twenty 
 years, I think she told me, she had been con- 
 fined to her room, and a large portion of the 
 time to her bed. Once she had been able to be 
 carried carefully to a steamboat, and to go a 
 short distance up the Hudson river. She suf- 
 ferred frequent and acute, and sometimes pro- 
 tracted, pain. I have sat for hours at her feet, 
 listening to her conversation, which was rich in 
 memorials of many prominent persons and 
 events, but still richer in a varied and pro- 
 found Christian experience. Sometimes, for 
 whole minutes, paroxysms of pain w^ould seize 
 her, and I could tell when they w T ere coming by 
 the increasing pressure of her hand ; and then 
 she would be silent for a short time, and the 
 twitching of her features betrayed the agony 
 which the firm and devout expression of her 
 eves showed she was endeavoring to endure in 
 the strength which God supplies. Then her 
 hand would relax, and her features fall into 
 their usual play, and, with an ejaculation of 
 thanksgiving, a tear or two, expressed by pain, 
 standing in her mild eyes, while mine were 
 moist with sympathy, she would ask to be re- 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 27 
 
 minded of the subject of our conversation, and 
 resume her remarks with a cheerfulness which 
 I could scarcely comprehend. Every attention, 
 no matter how small, she would receive with, if 
 nothing more, an appreciating look, which made 
 it a pleasure to smooth her pillow, or adjust her 
 cushion, or hold a cup of water to her lips. So 
 beautiful was grace in her, that it soon became 
 a delight to be in her presence. Many a time 
 have I walked whole blocks in a dark and rainy 
 night, and often when in pain myself, to be 
 soothed and strengthened by an example which 
 preached endurance with a wonderful power, 
 and a voice made musical by love. Though 
 dim of vision, she seemed instinctively to know 
 the state of my feelings from the tones of my 
 voice ; and when sick and jaded, I came to hev 
 from some public service, or from my desk, she 
 would part my hair with her trembling hands, 
 and kiss my forehead with a motherly affection 
 that made me feel like a child, and then talk to 
 me of Christian heroism, and of the noble souls 
 who have toiled in pain for the fadeless crown, 
 till I felt the spirit of a man revived in me. 
 No one knows how many an hour I have spent 
 in that obscure place, nor the blessed influences 
 
28 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 which that holy invalid exerted over my youth- 
 ful ministry. 
 
 It was a preaching place, as I have said. 
 Those who heard Bishop Janes often, know the 
 peculiar character of his preaching ; how full it 
 was of Christ and Christian consolation. Per- 
 haps some of the very finest of those thoughts 
 and expressions which won the almost loving 
 attention of the thousands who waited in crowds 
 upon his ministry, were uttered in that little 
 room to half a dozen persons, Methodists, Bap- 
 tists and Presbyterians ; for all classes and de- 
 nominations, who knew Miss Wigton, delighted 
 in visiting her. By much the best sermon I 
 ever heard Dr. Bangs deliver, was preached at 
 
 Miss W 's from I. Peter ii., 7 — "To you, 
 
 therefore, which believe He is precious." The 
 light that played on the invalid's face was a 
 beautiful and forceful commentary upon the text, 
 and a striking corroboration of the sermon. 
 In the long period of her illness, she had en- 
 joyed the services of many of the Lord's ser- 
 vants, and her recollection of their discourses 
 and conversations furnished her with abundant 
 materials for the entertainment and edification 
 of her visitors. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 29 
 
 Who would not say, at first sight, that her 
 scope of labor and of usefulness was very limit- 
 ed? She was sick, weak, in pain, confined to 
 her room, subsisting upon the benefactions of 
 others ; withal, she had no superior intellectual 
 gifts, and had had very little advantage of edu- 
 cation. And yet, her influence was felt in the 
 far West of America, and in Europe. By the 
 assistance of her friends, she maintained a cor- 
 respondence with Christians at great distances, 
 who had been profited by her example and con- 
 versation. I acted as her amanuensis in writing 
 to a clergyman in the West, who had entered 
 the ministry as a man would enter upon the 
 practice of the law. After a few years of al- 
 most utter uselessness, he became acquainted 
 
 with Miss W . She soon found that 
 
 he "had not the root of the matter in him," 
 that he was destitute of a proper knowledge of 
 salvation, and had no personal interest in the 
 atonement. She commenced to make his de- 
 ficiencies manifest to himself. He became con- 
 vinced that he was a sinner. His agony for 
 some time was very great ; but with a holy 
 wisdom she led the stricken sinner to the Lamb 
 of God, and there at her feet he was converted, 
 
30 
 
 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 and returned to his people a new man in Christ 
 Jesus, ready to do a great work. When John 
 Summerfield commenced his ministry in Amer- 
 ica, he received much spiritual nursing from his 
 mother in Israel. She loved him dearly. It 
 was delightful to hear her talk of the young 
 disciple. When James Brainerd Taylor first 
 went to New York as a subordinate clerk, I 
 think, in some establishment, he was very 
 thoughtless and wayward. His brother took 
 him to see Miss W . She became inter- 
 ested in him at once, and succeeded in winning 
 him to her. There was nothing querulous, 
 peevish, disagreeable, or repulsive in Miss 
 
 W . The young could love her. She 
 
 soon gained a mastery over the mind of young 
 Taylor. By degrees she interested him in re- 
 ligious subjects, and then in the subject of his 
 personal salvation, until " the day dawned and 
 the shadows fled away," and he was a free 
 man in Christ Jesus. The Lord led him to the 
 work of His ministry, and during his prepar- 
 atory studies, he was instrumental in turning 
 many from darkness to light. The Lord took 
 him from the evil to come, but not before he 
 had opened springs which shall flow down 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 31 
 
 through the history of the Church. The letters 
 
 which he wrote to Miss W , she preserved 
 
 as a sacred memorial of his excellence and holi- 
 ness. Some of them appear in his memoirs, 
 and I have had the pleasure of having for a 
 short time in my possession the little green bag 
 in which they were so carefully deposited. 
 
 What an example of endurance, in these 
 latter times! No mission to China, or to the 
 islands of the sea, could be sublimer than hers. 
 She was a living witness to the triumphs of 
 faith over poverty, suffering, and confinement. 
 She was poor, but made many rich ; she was 
 unknown, and yet well known ; she had nothing, 
 and yet possessed all things ; she was dying, yet 
 I behold she lived. How many young ladies in 
 our churches would look upon imprisonment for 
 twenty years in a chamber of sickness as being 
 a prolonged death ! O ye daughters of ease, 
 i learn to look upon your lives in the blaze of for- 
 tune and fashion as despicable, when compared 
 with hers. Ye that are sick and poor, and wish 
 to do something for your Lord, " learn" not 
 only " how sublime," but how Christian and 
 how useful "a thing it is to suffer and be strong." 
 A holy life — that is usefulness. Holiness of 
 
32 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 heart, in His members, is the lever with which 
 His people must lift the world to lay it at the 
 feet of Christ. If all the young were like 
 Taylor, and all the aged and suffering like Miss 
 W , how lovely would Christianity be- 
 come in the eyes of the world, and how power- 
 fully would sinners be attracted to the Cross. 
 I have written this sketch in the hope that the 
 example to which it points may not be lost upon 
 young women, who by and by may be afflicted 
 and in old age. There is no power in the uni- 
 verse to stay the irresistible influence of any hu- 
 man being whose soul is sanctified by the Spirit, 
 and whose life is devoted to the work of Christ. 
 
 CHARLES F. DEEMS. 
 
 Sonnet. 
 
 By the late Feanois A. Hillabd. 
 [Kindly contributed to this book by Mrs. Hillard.] 
 Whek from the narrow round that hems me in 
 
 My chafing spirit rages to get free, 
 
 Scorning just laws for natural liberty, 
 And haughty grown, a wider sphere would win; 
 I do bethink me what my lot hath been, 
 
 How small vexations like a wasting sea, 
 
 Do fret my temper to extremity, 
 And leave me spent where I would fain begin. 
 Then say — As Heaven adjusts our strength and weight, 
 
 Nor greater burden give than we can bear, 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 33 
 
 But each a spirit equal to his fate; 
 
 So my poor task- work done with revereno care, 
 More hallowed is than aims beyond my state: 
 
 Lord! keep me constant where my duties are. 
 
 Sustaining Grace. 
 By Key. Dr. Plumer. 
 
 I once heard an eloquent discourse on the 
 power of divine grace to sustain and comfort in 
 great affliction. The preacher has been for 
 years very favorably known on both sides of 
 the Atlantic. He still lives to love and be 
 loved by thousands. He illustrated his subject 
 by the recital of some incidents in the life of 
 one whom he had personally known. His state- 
 ment was substantially as follows : 
 
 " While I was a student at Hampden Sidney 
 College, there was a young man in the county 
 of Prince Edward who was afflicted with one of 
 the most painful of all the diseases to which 
 the human frame is liable. It was a spinal af- 
 fection of the most aggravated character. Be- 
 ing entirely dependent on others for support, it 
 became necessary to make some permanent ar- 
 rangement which would secure for him the con- 
 stant attention he required. Through the in- 
 
34 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 terventiori of some benevolent peTsons connected 
 with the institution, he was transferred to one 
 of the rooms of Union Theological Seminary, 
 and an arrangement was made by which the 
 students of the seminary, in turn, waited on 
 him day and night. After he was transferred 
 to their care I often visited him, and had abun- 
 dant opportunity of knowing what he suffered 
 and how he bore the painful visitation to which 
 he was subjected. 
 
 " So contorted was he by his malady that he 
 could not lie in a horizontal position, but was 
 propped up by pillows placed under his head 
 and shoulders, and he was so bent that usually 
 his chin rested on his breast. At times, it gave 
 him acute pain to partake of his necessary food. 
 In some way the optic nerve was implicated, 
 and so keenly sensitive did he become to the 
 light, that it was necessary to exclude it, as far 
 as possible, from his room. A close curtain 
 was drawn across the single window behind his 
 bed, and by night a shaded lamp was all that 
 was permitted in his apartment. As an ad- 
 ditional precaution, he often wore a bandage 
 over his eyes, lest an accidental ray should 
 pierce him with new anguish. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 35 
 
 " And yet, amidst all these complicated and 
 bodily distresses, such was his patience and 
 serenity of spirit, so hopeful and even cheerful 
 was he in the tone of his conversation, so quick 
 was his sympathy in all that concerned others, 
 that his room, so far from being a place of 
 gloom or in any way repellent, was an attrac- 
 tive resort to the students of the seminary and 
 to his friends in the neighboring college. He 
 never murmured, but he often gave thanks. 
 Though it gave him pain to partake of his daily 
 food, yet heavenly manna brought strength and 
 refreshment to his trustful spirit. For long 
 years no sight of green fields or blue sky greeted 
 his shaded eyes, but visions of beauty, infinitely 
 transcending the fairest of earthly prospects, 
 were disclosed to the eye of his firm, unfalter- 
 ing faith. 
 
 "Thus racked and consumed with bodily 
 pains, and thus replenished and comforted by 
 divine grace, he lingered on, until a late hour 
 one night, while absorbed in study, I was 
 stopped by hearing the tolling of the bell which 
 announced that his weary, worn and emaciated 
 body was at rest, and that his patient, unmur- 
 muring spirit was among the just made perfect." 
 
36 
 
 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 The preacher added : " We hear of those who 
 say they would dispense with religion during 
 life, if they could be sure of its support in a 
 dying hour ; but, I ask, What would have been 
 the condition of this man, during these long 
 years of pain and destitution, but for the sup- 
 port and consolations of the Gospel of Christ?" 
 
 Now, dear reader, when you are inclined to 
 think yourself the greatest of sufferers, remem- 
 ber this young man, or One of old, who cried : 
 " Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by ? be- 
 hold and see if there be any sorrow like unto 
 My sorrow ? " 
 
 How, When, Where, Why ? 
 
 You ask me how I gave my heart to Christ ? 
 
 I do not know. 
 There came a yearning for Him in my soul 
 
 So long ago. 
 I found earth's flowerets would fade and die, 
 I wept for something that could satisfy ; 
 And then — and then somehow I seemed to dare 
 To lift my broken heart to Him in prayer. 
 
 I do not know — 
 I cannot tell you how, 
 
 I only know 
 He is my Saviour now. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 You ask me when I gave my heart to Christ ? 
 
 I cannot tell 
 The day, or just the hour — I do not now 
 
 Remember we'll. 
 It must have been when I was all alone 
 The light of His forgiving Spirit shone 
 Into my heart, so clouded o'er with sin ; 
 I think— I think 'twas then I let Him in. 
 
 I do not know — 
 I cannot tell you when, 
 
 I only know 
 He is so dear since then. 
 
 You ask me where I gave my heart to Christ ? 
 
 I cannot say. 
 That sacred place has faded from my sight, 
 
 As yesterday. 
 Perhaps He thought it better I should not 
 Remember where. How I should love that spot. 
 I think I could not tear myself away, 
 For I should want, forever, there to stay. 
 
 I do not know — 
 I cannot tell you where, 
 
 I only know 
 He came and Messed me there. 
 
 You ask me why I gave my heart to Christ ? 
 
 I can reply : 
 It is a wondrous story : listen while 
 
 I tell \ou why 
 My heart was drawn, at length to seek His face 
 I was alone, I had no resting place ; 
 
 37 
 
38 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 I heard of how He loved me, with a love 
 Of depth so great — of height so far above 
 All human ken, 
 I longed such love to share ; 
 
 And sought it then, 
 Upon my knees in prayer. 
 
 You ask me why I thought this loving Christ 
 
 Would heed my prayer ? 
 I knew He died upon the Cross for me — 
 
 I nailed Him there! 
 I heard His dying cry, " Father, forgive !" 
 I saw Him drink death's cup that I might live; 
 My head was bowed upon my breast in shame, 
 He called me — and in penitence I came. 
 He heard my prayer ! 
 I cannot tell you how, 
 
 Nor when nor where ; 
 Why I have told you now. 
 
 F. G. Brown. 
 
 As in nature, as in art, so in grace — it is rou^h treat- 
 ment that gives souls, as well as stones, their lustre. 
 The more a diamond is cut, the brighter it sparkles; 
 and, in what seems hard dealing, there God has no end 
 in view but to perfect His people. — Dr. Guthrie. 
 
 To dare is great. To bear is greater. Bravery we 
 share with the brutes ; fortitude with the saints.— 
 Charles F. Deems. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 39 
 
 Be Strong in the Lord. 
 
 (Ephesians vi., 10.) 
 
 It is but too common for the Lord's people to 
 be indulging needless fears, like David, when 
 he said, " I shall one day perish by the hand of 
 Saul." But surely such deserve the rebuke 
 which our Lord gave to Peter, " O thou of 
 little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt ? " If 
 thou doubtest the Lord's willingness to save 
 thee, say, wherefore did He die for thee, even 
 for the chief of sinners ? If thou callest in 
 question His power, what is there in thy case 
 that can baffle Omnipotence ? If thou art dis- 
 couraged on account of thy own weakness, 
 know that the weaker thou art in thyself, the 
 stronger thou shalt be in Him ; and that " He 
 will perfect His own strength in thy weakness." 
 If thou fearest on account of the strength and 
 number of thine enemies, He meets thy fears 
 with this salutary admonition : " Say ye not, 
 A confederacy, a confederacy; but sanctify 
 the Lord of Hosts Himself ; and ]et Him be 
 your fear, and let Him be your dread." 
 Only trust in Him; and though weak, He 
 will strengthen thee; though faint, He will 
 revive thee ; though wounded, He will heal 
 
40 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 thee ; though captive, He will liberate thee ; 
 though slain, He will raise thee up again, and 
 give thee victory over all thine enemies. "Be 
 strong, then, and very courageous;" abhor the 
 thought of indulging a cowardly spirit, as long 
 as " Grod's throne is in Heaven " ; and assure 
 yourselves, with David, that though your 
 " enemies encompass you as bees, in the name 
 of the Lord you shall destroy them." — Simeon. 
 
 Trust. 
 
 In quietness and in confidence shall be our strength. — Isa. xxx.. 15. 
 
 Be quiet soul : 
 Why shouldst thou care and sadness borrow. 
 Why sit in nameless fear and sorrow 
 
 The livelong day ? 
 God will mark out thy path to-morrow 
 
 In His own way. 
 
 Be quiet soul : 
 There is no need of doubt and crying, 
 There is no need of anxious sighing, 
 
 God's love to know. 
 Dost thou remember not His dying, 
 
 Who loved thee so? 
 
 Be trustful soul: 
 Each day, for thee, the Father careth, 
 Each day in sweet compassion shareth 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Thine every ill. 
 Even thy sin for thee He beareth 
 And loves thee still. 
 
 Be trustful soul: 
 When some dark cloud shuts out before thee 
 Light that hath hitherto shoue o'er thee, 
 
 Doubt not nor fear: 
 But know God does it to assure thee 
 
 That He is near. 
 
 Be trustful soul: 
 Kemember God forgets thee never: 
 He who in grace stands waiting ever, 
 
 Thy way to guide, 
 Shall surely hold thee, soul, forever, 
 
 Close to His side. 
 
 41 
 
 Bearers. 
 
 When the Princes of Israel brought their 
 willing offerings unto the Lord they were ac- 
 cepted and given to the Levites for active service 
 of the tabernacle. " But unto the sons of Ko- 
 hath he gave none, because the service of the 
 sanctuary belonging unto them was, that they 
 should bear upon their shoulders." And so to 
 us who have been taken from active service is 
 given the privilege of cheerfully bearing the 
 
42 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 trials arid discomforts that may meet us (for 
 God has a purpose for every life) with a faith 
 so bright that it overcomes all difficulties by 
 the power of God which, if asked for is always 
 given — and I like to think at this Christmas 
 season that God gave His most precious gift 
 to men so silently that the sleeping world knew 
 not that the promised Messiah had come. 
 
 " For behold the good tidings of great joy" 
 was brought by the angels to the lonely shep- 
 herds — and to the wise men who were waiting 
 and watching to receive it. 
 
 And so to-day the Holy Spirit with His peace 
 and comfort, comes as silently to the hearts 
 alone who are watching and waiting to receive 
 
 Sarah O. Procter. 
 
 Conquer and Rest. 
 
 Why not learn to conquer sorrow? 
 
 Why not learn to smile at pain? 
 Why should every stormy morrow 
 
 Shroud our way in gloom again? 
 
 Why not lift the soul immortal 
 Up to its angelic height — 
 
 Bid it pass the radiant portal 
 Of the world of faith and light? 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Oh! there is another being 
 
 All about us, all above, 
 Hid from mortal sense or seeing, 
 
 Save the nameless sense of love. 
 
 Not the love that dies like roses, 
 When the frost-fire scathes the sod, 
 
 But the eternal rest that closes 
 Eound the soul that dwells in God. 
 
 Into this great habitation 
 Never tear or sorrow came; 
 
 Oh! it is the new creation, 
 
 God its light, and love its flame. 
 
 Up, soul! and dwell forever 
 On this hidden, glorious shore; 
 
 Chilled by cloud-shade, never, never; 
 Up and dwell for evermore. 
 
 43 
 
 The Hand of God. 
 
 A BBAVE and patient sufferer, afflicted with a 
 severe malady, said, in speaking of a visit from 
 her physician, the late eminent Dr. Abercrom- 
 
 bie: " When Dr. A pressed the part affected, 
 
 although it increased the pain, I almost felt it 
 agreeable, knowing that he was seeking a rem- 
 edy for my disease. And is not my disease 
 itself God's hand pressing on me ? and ought I 
 not to feel it also agreeable, knowing that He 
 
44 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 is seeking the healing of my sonl ? " In con- 
 nection with this thought, read the following 
 verses on the hand of God : 
 
 1. u What ? shall we receive good at the 
 hand of God, and shall we not receive evil ? " 
 Job ii., 10. 
 
 2. "Day and night Thy hand was heavy 
 upon me ; my moisture is turned into the 
 drought of summer. I acknowledged my sin 
 unto Thee." Psa. xxxii., 4, 5. 
 
 3. "Let us fall now into the hand of the 
 Lord ; for His mercies are great : and let me 
 not fall into the hand of man." II. Samuel xxiv., 
 14. 
 
 4. " Have pity upon me, O ye my friends ; 
 for the hand of God hath touched me." Job 
 xix., 21. 
 
 5. "That they may see, and know, and con- 
 sider, and understand together, that the hand 
 of the Lord hath done this." Isa. xli., 20. 
 
 6. " Is My hand shortened at all, that it can- 
 not redeem ? or have I no power to deliver % " 
 Isa. 1., 2. 
 
 7. " I will cause them to know Mine hand 
 and My might." Jer. xvi., 21. 
 
 8. " That Thy beloved may be delivered ; 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 45 
 
 save with Thy right hand, and hear me." 
 Psa. lx., 5. 
 
 9. " Humble yourselves therefore under the 
 mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you 
 in due time." I. Peter v., 6. 
 
 10. "Into Thine hand I commit my spirit ; 
 Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth." 
 Psa. xxxi., 5. 
 
 11. "If I take the wings of the morning, and 
 dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea ; even 
 there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right 
 hand shall hold me." Psa. cxxxix., 9, 10. 
 
 So Tired. 
 
 So tired, I fain would rest: 
 But, Lord, Thou knowest best, 
 
 I wait on Thee. 
 I will toil on from day to day, 
 Bearing my cross, and. only pray 
 
 To follow Thee. 
 
 So tired: my friends are gone 
 And I am left alone, 
 
 And days are sad. 
 Lord Jesus, Thou wilt bear my load 
 Along this steep and dreary road, 
 
 And make me glad. 
 
46 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 So tired: my heart id low, 
 Shadows of coming woe 
 
 Around me fall; 
 And memories of sins long wept, 
 And hopes denied that long have slept, 
 
 Arifce and fall. 
 
 So tired : yet I would work 
 
 For Thee — Lord, hast Thou work, 
 
 Even for me? 
 Small things, which others hurrying on 
 In Thy blest service, swift and strong, 
 
 Might never see. 
 
 So tired: yet I might reach 
 A flower to cheer and teach 
 
 Some sadder heart; 
 Or for parched lips perhaps might bring 
 One cup of water from the spring, 
 
 Ere I depart. 
 
 So tired: yet it were sweet 
 Some faltering tender feet 
 
 To help and guide. 
 Thy little ones, whose steps are slow, 
 I should not weary them, I know, 
 Nor roughly chide. 
 
 So tired: Lord, Thou wilt come 
 To take me to my home 
 
 So long desired. 
 Only Thy grace and mercy send, 
 That I may serve Thee to the end 
 
 Though I am tired. M. E. T. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR tfARK HOURS. 47 
 
 The Sure Afterward. 
 
 Heb. xii., 11. 
 
 There are some promises which we are apt 
 to reserve for great seasons, and thus lose the 
 continual comfort of them. Perhaps we read 
 this one with a sigh, and say : " How beautiful 
 this is for those whom the Lord is really chas- 
 tening ! I almost think I should not mind 
 that, if such a promise might then be mine. 
 But the things that try me are only little 
 things that turn up every day to trouble and 
 depress me." Well, now, does the Lord specify 
 what degree of trouble, or what kind of trouble, 
 is great enough to make up a claim to the 
 promise? And if He does not, why should 
 you ? He only defines it as " not joyous but 
 grievous." 
 
 Perhaps there have been a dozen different 
 things to-day which were "not joyous but 
 grievous " to you. And though you feel 
 ashamed of feeling them so much, and hardly 
 like to own to their having been so trying, 
 and would not think of dignifying them as 
 "chastening," yet, if they come under the 
 Lord's definition. He not only knows all about 
 them but they were, everyone of them, chas- 
 
48 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 tenings from His hand : neither to be despised 
 and called "just nothing " when all the while 
 they did " grieve " you : nor to be wearied of, 
 because they are working out blessings to you 
 and glory to Him, Everyone has been an un- 
 recognized token of His love and interest in 
 you : for " whom the Lord loveth He chas- 
 teneth." 
 
 If we set ourselves to watch the Lord's deal- 
 ings with us we shall often be able to detect a 
 most beautiful correspondence and proportion 
 between each individual "chastening" and its 
 own resulting " afterward." The habit of thus 
 watching and expecting will be very comfort- 
 ing and a great help to quiet trust when some 
 new chastening is sent, for then we shall simply 
 consider it as the herald and earnest of a new 
 "afte ward." 
 
 What shall Thine afterward be, Lord ? 
 
 I wonder and wait to see, 
 While to Thy chastening hand I bow, 
 What peaceable fruit may be ripening now, 
 
 Eipening fast for Thee. 
 
 Frances Ridley Havergal. 
 
 Use what talent you possess. The woods would be 
 very silent if no bird sang but those which sing best. 
 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 49 
 
 Courage. 
 
 Because I hold it sinful to despond, 
 
 And will not let the bitterness of life 
 Blind me with burning tears, but. look beyond 
 
 Its tumult and its strife; 
 
 Because I lift my head above the mist, 
 Where the sun shines and the broad breezes blow, 
 
 By every ray and every rain-drop kissed 
 That God's love doth bestow; 
 
 Think you I find no bitterness at all? 
 
 No burden to be borne, like Christian's pack? 
 Think you there are no ready tears to fall 
 
 Because I keep them back? 
 
 Why should I hug life's ills with cold reserve, 
 To curse myself and all who love me? Nay! 
 
 A thousand times more good than I deserve 
 God gives me every day. 
 
 And in each one of these rebellious tears 
 Kept bravely back, He makes a rainbow shine. 
 
 Grateful I take His slightest gift, no fears 
 Nor any doubts are mine. 
 
 Dark skies must clear, and when the clouds are past, 
 One golden day redeems a weary year; 
 
 Patient I listen, sure that sweet at last 
 Will sound His voice of cheer. 
 
 Then vex me not with chiding. Let me be, 
 I must be glad and grateful to the end. 
 
 I grudge you not your cold and darkness, — me 
 The powers of light befriend. 
 
 Oelia Thaxter. 
 
50 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 A Solitary Way. 
 
 1. O give thanks unto the Lord, for He is 
 good : for His mercy endureth forever. 
 
 2. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom 
 He hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy ; 
 
 3. And gathered them out of the lands, 
 from the East, and from the West, from the 
 North, and from the South. 
 
 4. They wandered in the wilderness in a 
 solitary way ; they found no city to dwell in. 
 
 5. Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in 
 them. 
 
 6. Then they cried unto the Lord in their 
 trouble, and He delivered them out of their 
 distresses. 
 
 7. And He led them forth by the right way, 
 that they might go to a city of habitation. 
 
 8. Oh that men would praise the Lord for 
 His goodness, and for His wonderful works to 
 the children of men ! 
 
 9. For He satisfieth the longing soul, and 
 filleth the hungry soul with goodness. Paslm 
 cvii., 1-9. 
 
 The heart knoweth his own bitterness ; and 
 a stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy. 
 Prov. xiv, 10. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 5 1 
 
 For what man knoweth the things of a man, 
 save the spirit of man which is in him ? Even 
 so the things of God knoweth no man, bnt the 
 spirit of God. I. Cor. ii., 11. 
 
 What is man, that Thou shouldest magnify 
 him ? and that Thou shouldest set Thine heart 
 upon him? Job vii., 17. 
 
 He that loveth father or mother more than 
 Me is not worthy of Me ; and he that loveth 
 son or daughter more than Me is not worthy 
 of Me. Matt, x., 37. 
 
 Come ye near unto Me, hear ye this ; I have 
 not spoken in secret from the beginning ; from 
 the time that it was, there am I; and now the 
 Lord God and His spirit hath sent Me. Isaiah 
 xlviii., 16. 
 
 The Lord redeemeth the soul of His servants; 
 and none of them that trust in Him shall be 
 desolate. Psalms xxxiv., 22. 
 
 There is a mystery in human hearts, 
 And though we be encircled by a host 
 Of those who love us well, and are beloved, 
 To every one of us, from time to time, 
 There comes a sense of utter loneliness. 
 Our dearest friend is "stranger " to our joy, 
 And cannot realize our bitterness. 
 " There is not one who really understands, 
 
52 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Not one to enter into all I feel ; " 
 Such is the cry of each of us in turn. 
 We wander in a "solitary way," 
 No matter what or where our lot may be; 
 Each heart, mysterious even to itself, 
 Must live its inner life in solitude. 
 
 And would you know the reason why this is ? 
 
 It is because the Lord desires our love. 
 
 In every heart He wishes to be first. 
 
 He therefore keeps the secret- key Himself, 
 
 To open all its chambers, and to bless 
 
 With perfect sympathy, and holy peace, 
 
 Each solitary soul which comes to Him. 
 
 So when we feel this loneliness, it is 
 
 The voice of Jesus saving, "Come to Me ; " 
 
 And every time we are " not understood," 
 
 It is a call to us to come again; 
 
 For Christ alone can satisfy the soul, 
 
 And those who walk with Him from day to day 
 
 Can never have " a solitary way." 
 
 And when beneath some heavy cross you faint, 
 And say, ' ' I cannot bear this load alone," 
 You say the truth. Christ made it purposely 
 So heavy that you must return to Him. 
 The bitter grief, which " no one understands/' 
 Conveys a secret message from the King, 
 Entreating you to come to Him again. 
 The Man of Sorrows understands it well; 
 In all points tempted He can feel with you. 
 You cannot come too often, or too near. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 53 
 
 The Son of God is infinite in grace, 
 
 His presence satisfies the longing soul, 
 
 And those who walk with Him from day to day 
 
 Can never have "a solitary way." 
 
 "I could bear anything but this ! " And that, my 
 friend, is why God sent this trial. Real affliction 
 touches the vital point, known to Him alone. Yon 
 cannot bear it. That is true. But God can bear it. 
 That is equally true. Your extremity is just His opvor- 
 tunity. Because you cannot bear the trial, cast it on 
 the Lord. 
 
 The Way. 
 
 When after weary travelling through life's day, 
 We reach with trembling feet the higher plain 
 Which in the distance seemed hard to gain, 
 
 We backward look and scan our toilsome way; 
 
 We mark the dangerous steep, the hidden snare, 
 The diverse roads that led us far astray, 
 The tempting toils that held us day by day, 
 
 Until we had no longer heart to dare, 
 
 And think, 'tis well; we would not now retrace 
 The destined path our feet so lately trod. 
 
 We turn in trust our few scant years to face, 
 And meekly bend us to their chastening rod; 
 
 Hoping, perchance, within them lies some grace, 
 Not our desert, to bring us nearer God. 
 
 The late Francis Allen Hillard. 
 
54 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Shall we Meet Again? 
 
 [A highly esteemed friend in Chicago sends us the following, 
 and says it was made dear to him by having been a favorite with 
 his mother, and the text of it was used at her funeral services. 
 He is an invalid.] 
 
 The following from the pen of the lamented 
 George D. Prentice is well worth reproduction. 
 It was regarded as meritorious when it first 
 appeared, and age seems to have but added to 
 its beauty : " The fiat death is inexorable. No 
 appeal for relief from the great law which 
 dooms us to dust. We flourish and fade as the 
 leaves of the forest, and the flowers that bloom, 
 wither, and fade in a day have no frailer hold 
 upon life than the mightiest monarch that 
 ever shook the earth with his footsteps. Gen- 
 erations of men will appear and disappear as 
 the grass, and the multitude that throng the 
 world to-day will disappear as footsteps on the 
 shore. Men seldom think of the great event 
 of death until the shadow falls across their 
 own pathway, hiding from their eyes the faces 
 of loved ones whose living smile was the sun- 
 light of their existence. Death is the antago- 
 nist of life, and the thought of the tomb is the 
 skeleton of all feasts. We do not want to go 
 through the dark valley, although its dark 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 55 
 
 passage may lead to paradise ; we do not want 
 to go down into damp graves, even with princes 
 for bed-fellows. In the beautiful drama of Ion, 
 the hope of immortality, so eloquently uttered 
 by the death-devoted Greet, finds deep response 
 in every thoughtful soul. When about to 
 yield his life a sacrifice to fate, his Clemanthe 
 asks if they should meet again; to which he 
 responds : 4 1 have asked that dreadful question 
 of the hills that look eternal — of the clear 
 streams that flow forever — of stars among those 
 fields of azure my raised spirits have walked in 
 glory. All are dumb. But as I gaze upon thy 
 living face, I feel that there is something in 
 love that mantles through its beauty that can 
 not wholly perish. We shall meet again, 
 Clemanthe." 
 
 That Things Are no Worse. 
 
 From the time of our old Revolution, 
 When we threw off the yoke of the king, 
 Has descended this phrase to remember, 
 To remember, to say, and to sing: 
 ' Tis a phrase that is full of a lesson, 
 It can comfort and warm like a fire, 
 It can cheer us when days are the darkest, 
 " That things are no worse, my Sire!" 
 
56 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 ' Twas King George's prime minister said it 
 To the king, who had questioned, in heat, 
 What he meant by appointing Thanksgiving 
 In such times of ill-luck and defeat; 
 ''What's the cause for your day of Thanksgiving, 
 Tell me, pray?" cried the king, in his ire; 
 Said the minister, "This is the reason: 
 That things are no worse, my Sire! " 
 
 There has nothing come down in the story 
 Of the answer returned by the king. 
 But I think on his throne he sat silent, 
 And confessed it a sensible thing. 
 For there's never a burden so heavy 
 That it might not be heavier still. 
 There is never so bitter a sorrow 
 That the cup could not fuller fill. 
 
 And whatever of care or of sadness 
 Our life and our duties may bring, 
 There is always the cause for Thanksgiving 
 Which the minister told to the king. 
 ' Tis a lesson to sing and remember; 
 It can comfort and warm like a fire, 
 Can cheer us when days are the darkest, 
 " That things are no worse, my Sire!" 
 
 If you cannot frame your circumstances in accor- 
 dance with your wishes, frame your will into harmony 
 with your circumstances. — Ejrictetus. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 The Longing for the Sanctuary. 
 
 57 
 
 [Bead Ps. lxxxiv. It is the Invalid's Psalm. The reading of it 
 suggested the following, which was first sang as a hymn in the 
 chapel of the Sanatorium, November, 1888.] 
 
 My spirit is longing, is longing and faints 
 For the courts of the Lord, the assembly of saints, 
 To sit in the light of His excellent Word 
 And rise in the rapture of praising the Lord. 
 
 There morning and evening together rejoice 
 Where elders bow down amid reverent boys, 
 The spirit of sanctity broods in the air 
 And the Master majestic, though unseen, is there. 
 
 There fathers and mothers of children so sweet 
 Bring infants and lay them at Christ's holy feet, 
 While worshipping souls, in the bread and the wine 
 See symbols of sacrifice deeply divine. 
 
 All birds that can fly through His temple are blest ; 
 Most happy are those that can there build the nest, 
 In precincts so sacred can rear up their young 
 Where songs of salvation and gladness are sung. 
 
 Thou knowest, Lord, how my heart faints for Thee: 
 Thou d welFst with the contrite ; stay, Lord, with me: 
 Pitch here Thy pavilion, and never remove ; 
 Forever float o'er me Thy Banner of Love. 
 
 Charles F. Deems. 
 
58 SUNSHINE FOR DA.RK HOURS. 
 
 The God of Comfort. 
 
 So far from God's not willing you to come 
 to Himself for comfort, what He speaks most 
 plainly about is against your going anywhere 
 else. He knows you are in need of comfort, 
 one from one cause, and another from another 
 (every man's trouble is not the same, and even 
 if it were the same, it does not touch on the 
 same point precisely, or in the same way) ; but 
 whatever it is, and however it works, the cry 
 is, that we should not forsake Him, the foun- 
 tain of living waters, and hew out for ourselves 
 broken cisterns, which can hold no water. 
 
 Mind that God is a jealous God ; and He is 
 not only jealous of a man's worshipping any 
 other God, but of His being put second in any- 
 thing, and, amongst other things, in comforting. 
 
 No doubt there is comforting to be had from 
 friends, and from books, and from the visits of 
 ministers, and from many other sources, but 
 they must all be put under God ; otherwise 
 they will be like Job's comforters — " miserable 
 comforters are ye all." They will give way in 
 some unexpected time and manner, and leave us 
 with nothing, because we had not God. 
 
 But let us see from Holy Scripture how God 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 59 
 
 Himself appears in this matter of comfort. Do 
 we not find Him very plainly here ? 
 
 St. Paul tells us very clearly what God Him- 
 self is in this way. 
 
 He had just been wishing grace and peace, 
 two very comfortable things, to the Corinthian 
 Church; and where were they to come from? 
 From God our Father and from the Lord Jesus 
 Christ. Then the apostle, as though he could 
 not restrain himself when he came to speak of 
 these good things as coming from the Father, 
 breaks out into this grand ascription of praise 
 to Him: "Blessed be God, even the Father of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, 
 and the God of all comfort ; who comf orteth 
 us in our tribulation" (II. Cor. i., 2-4). 
 
 Then, further on, in chapter vii., verses 5 and 
 6, he gives us an example of how God com- 
 forted. The comfort came by a human hand, it 
 came at a most seasonable time, for trials just 
 then were very heavy, but it came from God ; 
 and Paul distinctively traced God in the way 
 in which his comfort came. " I am filled," he 
 says, " with comfort ; I am exceedingly joyful 
 in all our tribulation. For when we were 
 come into Macedonia, our flesh had no rest, but 
 
60 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 we were troubled on every side ; without were 
 fightings, within were fears. Nevertheless, God 
 that comforteth those that are cast down " 
 (mark the phrase, it just suits you) " comforted 
 us by the coming of Titus." 
 
 Some people speak of God as though there is 
 no comfort in Him at all, and that Jesus is to 
 comfort us by enabling us to escape from God. 
 But St. Paul saw the Father and Son both one 
 in this blessed work of comfort ; and if there 
 is no other verse in the Bible to comfort a poor 
 soul, then II. Thess. ii , 16, 17, ought to do so ; 
 they ought to bring a man to God Himself for 
 comfort. " Now our Saviour Jesus Christ Him- 
 self, and God, even our Father, which hath 
 loved us, and hath given us everlasting consola- 
 tion and good hope through grace, comfort your 
 hearts, and stablish you in every good word 
 and work." 
 
 The Psalmist — a man, as you know, of many 
 troubles — found his comfort in God Himself; 
 not in running away from Him, but in coming 
 to Him. It was upon what God said that Da- 
 vid relied ; and if that had not been something 
 comfortable it would have been of no use to 
 him. " Remember the word unto Thy servant, 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 61 
 
 upon which Thou hast caused me to hope. 
 This is my comfort in my affliction ; for Thy 
 word hath quickened me" (Ps. cxix., 49, 50). 
 And again he says in verse 76 — " Let, I pray 
 4 Thee, Thy merciful kindness be for my com- 
 fort, according to Thy word unto Thy servant." 
 The eighty-sixth Psalm is a great mingling 
 together of light and darkness. There are 
 very deep things there : the soul is spoken of 
 even as being delivered from the lowest hell, 
 but (rod is equal to all the need. David asks 
 to have his soul made to rejoice ; and whom does 
 he look to, to do this ? To God ; and because 
 he did, he found what he sought, help and com- 
 fort. "But Thou, O Lord, art a God full of 
 compassion, and gracious, long-suffering, and 
 plenteous in mercy and truth. O turn unto 
 me, and have mercy upon me ; give Thy 
 strength unto Thy servant, and save the son of 
 Thine handmaid. Show me a token for good ; 
 that they which hate me may see it, and be 
 ashamed ; because Thou, Lord, hast holpen me, 
 and comforted me." 
 
 Patience had a long way to go, but she was crowned 
 at last. — Mrs. Ewing. 
 
62 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS 
 
 For Divine Strength. 
 
 Father, in Thy mysterious presence kneeling, 
 Fain would our souls feel all Thy kindling love ; 
 
 For we are weak, and need some deep revealing 
 Of trust and strength and calmness from above. 
 
 Lord, we have wandered forth through doubt and sorrow, 
 And Thou hast made each step an onward one ; 
 
 And we will ever trust each unknown morrow, — 
 Thou wilt sustain us till its work is done. 
 
 In the heart's depths a peace serene and holy 
 Abides ; and when pain seems to have its will, 
 
 Or we despair, oh may that peace rise slowly, 
 Stronger than agony, and we be still. 
 
 Now, Father, now, in Thy dear presence kneeling, 
 Our spirits yearn to feel Thy kindling love : 
 
 Now make us strong, we need Thy deep revealing 
 Of trust and strength and calmness from above. 
 
 Key. 8. Johnson. 
 
 Daily Strength. 
 
 As thy day thy strength shall be, 
 This should be enough for thee ; 
 He who knows thy frame will spare 
 Burdens more than thou canst bear. 
 
 When thy days are veiled in night 
 Christ shall give thee heavenly light ; 
 Seem they wearisome and long, 
 Yet in Him thou shalt be strong. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 63 
 
 Cold and wintry though they prove, 
 Thine the sunshine of His love ; 
 Or with fervid heat oppressed, 
 In His shadow thou shalt rest. 
 
 When thy days on earth are past 
 Christ shall call thee home at last, 
 His redeeming love to praise, 
 Who has strengthened all thy days. 
 
 Frances Kidley Havergal. 
 
 The Cross-Bearer. 
 
 His Lord gave Caer a cross to carry; 
 
 And, pointing to the distant blue, 
 He bade him neither turn nor tarry, 
 
 But haste the stranger country through. 
 "And I will meet thee at the portal 
 
 Where grief goes out and bliss begins; 
 And thou with Me shall dwell, immortal, 
 
 A sinner saved from all his sins ! " 
 
 And Caer marched on with warbling snatches 
 
 Of Salem 's songs, clear- sounding, high, 
 And of this airy fancy catches 
 
 A glimpse of glory from the sky; 
 Till in the vale, a band pursuing, 
 
 Fierce and far, surround him there, 
 And loud-demanded his undoing, 
 
 And what and whence the load he bare. 
 
 And Caer laid down, with bosom swelling, 
 The cross, so heavy now to him — 
 
 "A beam," he said, "to make a dwelling, 
 He hewed beside the river's brim ! " 
 
64 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Then rose the shout of sinners, scorning; 
 
 They took his cross, they beat him there; 
 And left him lying, lowly, mourning, 
 
 A crossless sinner in despair ! 
 
 Then came his Lord at midnight starry — 
 
 Forgave him, kissed him, calmed his strife, 
 And gave him back his cross to carry — 
 
 " Oh, leave it only with thy life ! " 
 Once more the stranger-country threading, 
 
 He watches more, if less he sings; 
 Himself, as well as aliens dreading, 
 
 He to his burden closer clings. 
 
 Last eve he passed with cross uplifted, 
 
 His eyes were sunk, his lips were firm; 
 And I need scarce be prophet-gifted 
 
 To see him safe from snare and storm ! 
 Saint, within the eternal morrow ! 
 
 I, too, would go where glory waits; 
 And learn as thou, without thy sorrow, 
 
 The cross to carry to the gates ! 
 
 Rev. William Wye Smith. 
 
 Where Christ brings His Cross He brings His pres- 
 ence; and where He is, none are desolate, and there is 
 no room for despair. As He knows His own, so He 
 knows how to comfort them, using sometimes the very 
 grief itself, and straining it to a sweetness of peace un- 
 attainable by those ignorant of sorrow.^-MRS. Brown- 
 ing. 
 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 65 
 
 The Praises of the Redeemed Ones. 
 
 " O give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good : for His mercy 
 endureth for ever. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so." — 
 Psalm cvii., 1, 2. 
 
 This is truly a psalm meant for " all sorts and 
 conditions of men." It is not only those who 
 are living in ease and comfort, those who are 
 in the full enjoyment of health, those who are 
 possessed of liberty, those who are safe from 
 danger by sea or land, who are called upon by 
 the Psalmist to "give thanks unto the Lord." 
 To such persons it might seem an easy thing 
 to praise God. Their comforts abound ; they 
 are free from sorrow or anxiety; their afflicted 
 brethren might say to them, "It is nothing for 
 you to acknowledge God's goodness ; has the 
 Lord not made an hedge about you, and about 
 your house, as about Job in his prosperous 
 days? You know nothing of the ups and 
 downs, the cares and crosses of life! " If such 
 is the thought of any reader, it was not the 
 thought of the Psalmist. He called not upon 
 the prosperous man, but on the tried and 
 troubled man, to give thanks, strange as the 
 exhortation may seem ; and while in this psalm 
 he goes over a wide circle of cases, he points 
 out how in every one of these cases the extrem- 
 
66 
 
 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 ity of man was the opportunity of God ; help- 
 less and hopeless, the wanderer, the prisoner, 
 the sufferer, the mariner, when brought to the 
 last stage of distress, " cried unto the Lord and 
 He delivered them." As in the case of Israel 
 in Psalm cvi., 44, " He regarded their affliction 
 when He heard their cry." No difficulty was 
 too great, no sorrow too deep to be beyond the 
 reach of His mercy; and like a refrain of 
 heavenly sweetness, the story of every new 
 deliverance ends with the invitation, " Oh, that 
 men would praise the Lord for His goodness, 
 and for His wonderful works to the children of 
 men." Let those who have known that good- 
 ness, who have sorrowed and suffered, who 
 have cried to the Lord and have been delivered 
 praise Him and declare His wonderful works, 
 out of the depths of their own experience; 
 it is theirs to speak of greater things than the 
 untried and inexperienced can imagine. If 
 they will be wise and observe these things, and 
 understand the loving kindness of the Lord, 
 and give thanks accordingly, their testimony 
 will not only glorify God, but may be of infinite 
 value in cheering some poor soul still in u dark- 
 ness ; and in the shadow of death," who may by 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 67 
 
 this their example be encouraged to cry unto 
 the Lord in their trouble, and be saved like 
 them. But if deliverance from bodily danger 
 and temporal distress ought to call forth songs 
 of praise, how much more ought the deliver- 
 ance of the soul from sin and condemnation and 
 eternal death to awaken within us thanks unto 
 the great Redeemer, and urge the redeemed to 
 devote themselves to His service, " not only 
 with their lips but with their lives ! " 
 
 Things unseen and eternal, dangers which 
 threaten the welfare of the soul, are as much 
 beyond the short-lived troubles of the wanderer 
 the captive, the mariner, as the heavens are 
 high above the earth. Deliverance from end- 
 less ruin and misery, if seen in anything of its 
 true magnitude, ought to overwhelm the be- 
 lieving soul with wonder, love and praise. 
 Such are the feelings which inspire the new 
 song of Heaven, that song which no man could 
 learn but those which are redeemed from the 
 
 earth. 
 
 " Oh, may our lips repeat that strain, 
 And, fired with holy love, 
 Return from earth a deep amen 
 To those high songs above! " 
 
 M. A. S. M. 
 
68 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Only a Day at a Time. 
 
 " How long must I lie here, Doctor '?" plain- 
 tively asked a twelve-year old girl after endur- 
 ing the torture of the setting of a broken limb. 
 
 " Only a day at a time," cheerily answered 
 the wise physician, after a moment's hesitation. 
 
 I read the above lines in a little Sunday- 
 school paper a few years since, and they have 
 been so helpful to me I wanted to contribute 
 them to this " Invalid's Book," and pray that 
 they may be of value to those of its readers 
 who perhaps are looking ahead and constantly 
 endeavoring to pierce the veil of pain and suf- 
 fering there may be in store for them, and 
 trying to live a lifetime in a moment. 
 
 I heard of a good old church deacon who 
 was noted for using the right word in the 
 wrong place, speaking in prayer-meeting, one 
 evening, of the pleasure he enjoyed in taking a 
 prospective view of the future. 
 
 Not all of us enjoy these " retrospective " 
 views of the future, but when sick and laid 
 aside from active duties our imagination is apt 
 to distort the future into one great midnight of 
 mental or physical suffering. 
 
 Do we not often suffer more from anticipa- 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 69 
 
 tion of future pain or sorrow than from the 
 actual pain of to-day ? 
 
 I well remember the first time I underwent 
 the ordeal of having teeth filled. I sat down 
 with a martyr-like air, firmly grasped the arms 
 of the chair, braced my feet and with every 
 nerve drawn to its highest tension prepared for 
 the worst. 
 
 My imagination was fortified by the remem- 
 brance of all the dental horrors my friends had 
 from time to time rehearsed to me, until I was 
 in such a state of nervous excitement in antici- 
 pation of the agony I must endure that when 
 it was over and reaction took place I was ill 
 in bed for a week under the care of my physi- 
 cian ; and yet all the real pain I suffered during 
 the whole process was not equal to one mo- 
 ment of toothache. 
 
 So it is in many cases of sickness ; we not 
 
 only retard the progress of our recovery by 
 
 scanning the future so closely for suffering or 
 
 trouble which may never come, but we lose 
 
 | the benefit of the discipline of sickness. 
 
 Let us earnestly strive to learn the lesson 
 God wants to teach us through suffering, and 
 from even our pains and aches secure some pre- 
 
70 
 
 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS 
 
 cious treasure to be laid up iu Heaven, and let 
 us not forget that we live " only a day at a 
 time." 
 
 Here is a little motto by Helen Hunt Jack- 
 son which it would pay us to commit to mem- 
 ory : 
 
 " One day at a time 
 
 Is a wholesome rhyme ; 
 A good one to live by — 
 A day at a time." 
 
 E. L. V. S. 
 
 Sympathy. 
 
 Theee are, who touched at sight of human woe, 
 Are fain to weep when others weep, that so, 
 Tear meeting tear, the mingled stream may flow 
 
 Gentlier, for contact kind. 
 And some there are, more rare these great of heart, 
 That joy with them that joy, though their own part 
 In life be joyless else, no envious dart 
 
 Leaving its sting behind. 
 
 And some by nature, some by grace, are kin 
 
 To all that joy or suffer, taking in 
 
 With wide embrace, from out earth's glare and din, 
 
 All loving hearts and lone. 
 Yet kindly souls may wound where they would heal, 
 Lacking not love, but skill with hearts to deal; 
 Or Fancy's changeling power, with hearts to feel 
 
 Whose case she makes her own. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. t 
 
 For not to weep, where pity's tear were pain, 
 
 Or smile, when answering smiles would tears contain, 
 
 Heart only meeting heart where words were vain — 
 
 To few on earth is given. 
 The timid confidence half-way to meet, 
 The proud await with tact and patience sweet, 
 Sad smiles with tears, or tears with smiles to meet, 
 
 Rarest this gift of Heaven ! 
 
 For perfect sympathy needs perfect love, 
 
 And perfect knowledge, hidden springs to move, 
 
 Wisdom unerring, and the power to prove 
 
 All human joys and woes. 
 One only walked this earth, who did embrace 
 These full conditions; born of Adam's race, 
 Tempted, yet sinless; His the matchless grace 
 
 That all our weakness knows — 
 
 And, touched with sense of our infirmities, 
 All-pitiful, all-knowing, and all- wise, 
 Divinest power with human sympathies 
 
 Most sweetly doth combine. 
 Ah, who need weep alone, since at the grave 
 Of Laz'rus Jesus wept ? Who seek to brave 
 Unfriended the world's scorn — when He to save, 
 
 Yearning in love Divine, 
 
 Stooped from His throne in glory and became 
 The scorn of men; His sacred face from shame 
 Hid not, nor spitting ? Ah, He knows our frame, 
 Who feels with man as man, 
 
72 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Pities as God. Nor ours alone in grief 
 This Friend of friends, above ten thousand chief. 
 From joy's own burden seeks the heart relief ? 
 happy souls that can, 
 
 Like John, upon the breast of their dear Lord 
 In friendship lean: secure that He whose word 
 Gave wine for water at the marriage board 
 
 Will ear and heart incline: 
 Nor count it scorn their whispered joy to share, 
 Whose nature He is not ashamed to wear, 
 Making their weakness and their wants His care. 
 
 Oh rich., exhaustless mine 
 
 Of love and help, wealth of sympathy ! 
 No need beyond His fulness to supply; 
 No grief, no joy, too sacred for His eye, 
 
 No wound beyond His cure. 
 Come, weary soul, in Jesus there is rest. 
 Thy case is hopeless ? Put Him to the test. 
 He hath a balm for every heart opprest — 
 
 His promised aid is sure. 
 
 True, earthly friends, though loving, may be blind 
 Rough, or unskilful, seeming most unkind 
 When most they yearn to comfort; then to mind 
 
 Eecall thy Friend above, 
 Whose heart and hand are thine to help and bless; 
 Whose blood redeemed thee from the worst distress: 
 His perfect sympathy thou shalt confess 
 
 Unfailing as His love ! 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 7 3 
 
 Losses. 
 
 In the pleasant orchard- closes, 
 
 " God bless all our gains/' say we ; 
 
 But " May God bless all our losses/' 
 Better suits with our degree. 
 
 The woman poet who thus wrote knew the 
 full meaning of loss, of suffering and its sanc- 
 tifying power. May it not be a help to us to 
 dwell a little upon the fact that sorrows do 
 humanize us, that tears are the showers which 
 fertilize this world ? We know it is not the 
 will of our Father that one of us should perish; 
 nay further, we do not believe it to be His will 
 that one of us should suffer even ; but, if be- 
 cause of broken law we must suffer, it is His 
 most blessed will that our pain and loss shall 
 help and uplift us, that our strength should be, 
 made perfect in weakness. As each loss comes, 
 as we realize each day of weakness, let us try 
 not to lose the lesson it brings ; let us get out 
 of our suffering all it contains for us until "pu- 
 rification shall have become the joy of pain ! " 
 
 Ik Thy book, oh Lord, are written all that do what 
 they can, though they cannot do what they would. — St. 
 Bernard. 
 
74 
 
 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Be Not Weary. 
 
 Yes ! He knows the way is dreary, 
 Knows the weakness of our frame, 
 
 Knows that hand and heart are weary: 
 He in all points felt the same. 
 
 He is near to help and bless; 
 
 Be not weary, onward press. 
 
 Look to Him, the Lord of Glory, 
 Tasting death to win thy life; 
 
 Gazing on that " wondrous story," 
 Canst thou falter in the strife? 
 
 Is it not new life to know 
 
 That the Lord hath loved thee so? 
 
 Look to Him, and faith shall brighten, 
 Hope shall soar, and love shall burn; 
 
 Peace once more thy head shall lighten, 
 Eise ! He calleth thee — return! 
 
 Be not weary on thy way, 
 
 Jesus is thy strength and stay. 
 
 Be Still, and Know That I am God. 
 
 Psalm xlvi., 10. 
 When my precious mother was dying, she 
 called her children one by one and gave us, as 
 she said, a legacy for each. Mine was : " Be 
 still, and know that I am G-od." What a for- 
 tune it has been and will be. God has a mean- 
 ing in all He does or permits to be done. You 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 75 
 
 notice, too, He does not say merely, " Be still," 
 but He tells us something so sweet, so blessed, 
 " I am God." Sometimes little children are 
 told to "be still," but the best way to make 
 them still is for the mother to arrest their at- 
 tention by something else. How often have 
 we kept our children still by telling them a 
 story or by assuring them of our presence ? 
 And so God tells us that He is God, and that 
 is enough to still every disturbing thing in us. 
 God is love. God is our Father, and declares 
 that " as one whom his mother comforteth, so 
 will I comfort you." Surely this will quiet us. 
 — From " Crumbs,''' by Mrs. Bottome. 
 
 "Behold the Man." 
 
 "A man of sorrows." — Isaiah liii., 3. 
 
 Oppressed as we often are with sorrows of 
 our own, we think too little of the sorrows of 
 Jesus. And yet if we would consider them 
 aright, we should find in them the best of all 
 cures for our own wounded heart. In Jesus, 
 "The Man of Sorrows," we see one in our 
 nature, afflicted and oppressed beyond all that 
 we can imagine, not for His own sake but for 
 ours. u He was wounded for our transgressions, 
 
76 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 He was bruised for our iniquities," that through 
 His atoning blood our souls might be saved 
 from sin, and from the sorrow which sin brings ; 
 and when by faith we gaze on the wonderful 
 sight presented to us in the Cross of Christ, we 
 cannot for a moment believe that such suffer- 
 ings can be of no avail to redeem these souls of 
 ours for which He died. " With His stripes 
 we are healed ; " let us not then turn aside 
 from this great sight, but gaze on Him lifted 
 up for our healing, even as the stricken Israel- 
 ites gazed on the serpent in the wilderness. 
 
 But it is not only as our atonement and sub- 
 stitute that we look on the Man of Sorrows 
 and are healed ; there is that in His very name 
 as such, which assures us of a sympathy im- 
 possible to be found in any who was not at the 
 same time a partaker of our human nature and 
 a sharer in human woes. As a man Jesus 
 draws very near; as a Man of Sorrows, He 
 comes still nearer to us. He comes not to view 
 our griefs merely, but to share in them ; not to 
 look on burdens only, but to help us to carry 
 them, by bearing Himself the heaviest part. 
 Let us try to enter into His purpose of mercy 
 for our souls ; He has revealed it in His Word, 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 77 
 
 that none of us may sit down in despair, or 
 think our sorrows too hard for Him to cure. In 
 that most significant attitude of His, with arms 
 widely extended on the " bitter cross,'' Jesus 
 utters to every afflicted one His tender cry, 
 "Come unto Me, all ye that labor, and are 
 heavy laden, and I will give you rest." And 
 daily, hourly, during all those eighteen cen- 
 turies, He has been winning souls to Himself, 
 not one of whom has ever been rejected, or 
 disappointed of the rest He has promised to be- 
 stow. M. A. S. M. 
 
 And sometimes in my house of grief, 
 
 For moments, I have come to stand 
 Where, in the sorrows on me laid, 
 
 I felt the chastening of God's hand ; 
 Then learned I that the weakest ones 
 
 Are kept securest from life's harms ; 
 And that the tender lambs alone 
 
 Are carried in the shepherd's arms. 
 And sitting by the wayside blind, 
 
 He is the nearest to the light 
 Who crieth out most earnestly 
 
 " Lord, that I might receive my sight." 
 
 Phcebe Oary. 
 
78 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Faith in Exercise. 
 
 " He knoweth the way that I take : when He hath tried me, I 
 shall come forth as gold." — Job. xxiii., 10. 
 
 "He knoweth the way I take," however 
 ignorant I am of the design. The present 
 mysterious dispensation is not the effect of a 
 blind necessity, it is the appointment of the 
 Lord ; He has a design, to the fulfilment of 
 which this distressing event leads. Let us 
 pause a moment upon this expression: "He 
 knoweth the way I take." Is there not some- 
 thing truly consoling in it ? Think who it is of 
 whom the patriarch is speaking : He knows 
 the way; who is this? It is the God and 
 Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the God of 
 all consolation. He who sends His Son with 
 this declaration, " The Spirit of the Lord God 
 is upon Me, because the Lord hath anointed Me, 
 to preach good tidings unto the meek ; He hath 
 sent Me to bind up the broken-hearted, to com- 
 fort all that mourn ; ' He who says, " Leave 
 thy fatherless children, I will preserve them 
 alive; and let your widows trust in Me," He 
 knows the way I take. Every secret is before 
 Him. As the Psalmist says, " Put Thou my 
 tears in Thy bottle ; " not one of them is wasted ; 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 79 
 
 He numbers them all. Oh, how consolatory 
 are such declarations ! There is something in 
 the Word of God which suits a mourner's case. 
 We cannot open such passages without being 
 sensible of their beauty, and without saying, 
 " There is no one who comforteth like the 
 Lord!" 
 
 The Daily Bread and the Daily Cross. 
 
 Exod. xvi., 18. 
 
 Lord, as each day my " daily bread " 
 
 I gladly take from Thee, 
 Grant that each day my " daily cross " 
 
 Be meekly borne by me. 
 No more than what the day shall need 
 
 Nor less of bread is given; 
 To-morrow — e'er it dawns, my soul 
 
 May sup with Thee in Heaven. 
 
 No heavier than the day can bear, 
 
 That ' ' daily cross " shall be, 
 Nor lighter than in mercy, Lord, 
 
 Thou seest good for me. 
 To-morrow 'twill not be the same, 
 
 Or I may lay it down 
 At Thy dear feet, to take from Thee 
 
 The victor's golden crown. 
 
 Brida Walkee. 
 
80 
 
 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 His Answers. 
 They were living to themselves ; self, with 
 its hopes, promises and dreams, still had hold 
 of them ; but the Lord began to fulfil their 
 prayers. They had asked for contrition, and 
 He had sent them sorrow ; they had asked for 
 purity, and He sent them thrilling anguish ; they 
 had asked to be meek, and He had broken 
 their hearts ; they had asked to be dead to the 
 world, and He slew all their living hopes; they 
 had asked to made like unto Him, and He 
 placed them in the furnace sitting by "as 
 a refiner of silver," till they should reflect His 
 image ; they had asked to lay hold of His Cross, 
 and when He had reached it to them it lacerated 
 their hands. They had asked they knew not 
 what, nor how; but He had taken them at 
 their word, and granted them all their petitions. 
 They were hardly willing to follow on so far 
 or to draw so nigh to Him. They had upon 
 them an awe and fear as Jacob at Bethel or 
 Eliphaz in the night visions, or as the apostles 
 when they thought they had seen a spirit, and 
 knew not that it was Jesus. They could almost 
 pray Him to depait from them or to hide His 
 awfuiness. They found it easier to obey than 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 8 1 
 
 to suffer ; to do, than to give up, to bear the 
 Cross than to hang upon it, but they cannot go 
 back, for they have come too near the unseen 
 Cross, and its virtues have pierced too deeply 
 within them. He is fulfilling to them his 
 promise, "And if I be lifted up I will draw all 
 men unto Me." 
 
 Mks. Prentiss. 
 
 The man who has learned to triumph over sorrow 
 wears his miseries as though they were sacred fillets on 
 his brow. — Seneca. 
 
 Methinks we do as fretful children do. 
 
 Leaning their faces on the window-pane 
 
 To sigh the glass dim with their own breath's stain, 
 
 And shut the sky and landscape from their view. 
 
 And thus, alas! since God, the Maker, drew 
 
 A mystic separation 'twixt those twain, 
 
 The life beyond us, and our souls in pain, 
 
 We miss the prospect which we're called unto 
 
 By griefs we're fools to use. Be still and strong, 
 
 man, my brother! bold thy sobbing breath, 
 
 And keep thy soul's large window pure from wrong. 
 
 That so as life's appointment issueth, 
 
 Thy vision may be clear to watch along 
 
 The sunset consummation — lights of death. 
 
 Elizabeth Babbett Browning. 
 
82 
 
 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Thankful for Little. 
 
 A New England divine not long since re- 
 lated a personal experience which, as nearly 
 as the writer can remember, was as follows: 
 
 While making a round of calls one Thanks- 
 giving Day, he dropped into an " Old Ladies' 
 Home" just at dinner time. A sumptuous re- 
 past was spread before them, and thinking how 
 well they were provided for, the minister stepped 
 up to one old lady and remarked upon the 
 bountiful dinner. "Well — yes — good enough 
 I suppose — but there ain't no onions ! " This 
 surprising answer turned the clergyman's 
 thought in the direction of another home, less 
 comfortable than this, where another poor old 
 body lived by herself and where Thanksgiving 
 turkey was an unknown quantity. He next 
 sought this humble abode and found the solitary 
 woman dining upon dry corn bread. "Well, 
 my good sister," said he, "you haven't much to 
 be thankful for to-day.'' "O yes, I have, sir," 
 she responded cheerfully; "you don't know how 
 thankful I am that the two teeth the Lord has 
 left me are opposite each other ! " 
 
 "Take rest: a field that has rested yields a boun- 
 tiful crop." 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 83 
 
 The Fallen Snow. 
 By Ada Geeding. 
 One morning we woke from our slumber 
 To find that the Snow-Queen, so fair, 
 Had laid her white hands very softly 
 And gently on ground that was bare. 
 
 In the midst of the silent night-watches, 
 "When the world had grown quiet and still, 
 
 She had fashioned strange forms in the lowlands 
 And reared lofty domes on the hill. 
 
 Flake by flake grew the rare, wondrous structures, 
 
 By a skill human hand never knew ; 
 In the hush of the deepening whiteness 
 
 The brown, common earth sank from view. 
 
 While I stood by the high window, gazing 
 
 At the silent reaches of snow — 
 At the trees and the bushes so well-known 
 
 'Neath their burden bending so low ; 
 
 As I watched the sunbeams stealing 
 
 Athwart the white mountains high, 
 And there saw the glorious radiance 
 
 As it flooded the earth and the sky ; 
 
 I thought how much like to God's mercy 
 
 Was the beautiful, fallen snow — 
 God's mercy that softens and brightens 
 
 The drear heart so full of earth's woe. 
 
 His sunlight of love falls o'er it — 
 
 O'er the heart made pure as snow, 
 It can but reflect the pure glory 
 
 Of Him who doth all things bestow, 
 
84 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Wakeful Hours. 
 
 " Thon holdest mine eyes waking." — Ps. Ixxvii., 4, 
 
 If we could always say, night after night. " I 
 will both lay ine down in peace and sleep," re- 
 ceiving in full measure the Lord's quiet gift to 
 His beloved, we should not learn the disguised 
 sweetness of this special word for the wakeful 
 ones. When the wearisome nights come, it is 
 hushing to know that they are appointed. But 
 this is something nearer and closer-bringing, 
 something individual and personal ; not only 
 an appointment but an act of our Father: 
 "Thou holdest mine eyes waking." It is not 
 that He is not merely giving us sleep : it is not 
 a denial, but a different dealing. Every moment 
 that the tired eyes are sleepless, it is because 
 our Father is holding them waking. It seems 
 so natural to say, "How I wish I could go to 
 sleep ! " Yet even that restless wish may be 
 soothed by the happy confidence in our Father s 
 hand, which will not relax the ''hold" upon 
 the weary eyelids until the right moment has 
 come to let them fall in slumber. 
 
 Now, if we first simply submit ourselves to 
 the appointed wakefulness, instead of getting 
 fidgeted because we cannot go to sleep, the rest- 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 85 
 
 ing in His will, even in this little thing, will 
 bring a certain blessing. And the perfect learn 
 ing of this little page in the great lesson book of 
 our Father's will, will make others easier and 
 clearer. 
 
 Then, let us remember that He does nothing 
 without a purpose, and that no dealing is meant 
 to be resultless. So it is well to pray that we 
 may make the most of the wakeful hours, that 
 they may be no more wasted ones than if we 
 were up and dressed. They are His hours, for 
 "the night is Thine." It will cost no more men- 
 tal effort (nor as much) to ask Him to let them 
 be holy hours, filled with His calming presence, 
 than to let the mind run into the thousand 
 "other things" which seem to find even busier 
 entrance during the night. 
 
 "With thoughts of Christ and things divine 
 Fill up this foolish heart of mine." 
 
 It is an opportunity for proving the real 
 power of the Holy Spirit to be greater than the 
 Tempter. And He will without fail exert it for 
 Christ's sake. He will- teach us to commune 
 with our own hearts upon our bed, or perhaps 
 simply to "be still," which, is after all, the 
 hardest and yet the sweetest lesson. He will bring 
 
86 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 to our remembrance many a word that Jesus 
 has said, and even " the night shall be light 
 about us " in the serene radiance of such remem- 
 berings. He will so apply the Word of God 
 that the promise shall be fulfilled : When thou 
 wakest, it shall talk with thee." He will time the 
 silent hours, and give song in the night, which 
 shall blend in the Father's ear with the unheard 
 melodies of angels. 
 
 Frances Ridley Havergal. 
 
 What Sickness Means. 
 
 Loved ones, ye whose tender pity 
 Soothes and comforts all my pain, 
 Ye are wondering why your praying 
 Seems an asking all in vain; 
 Ye are wondering why I suffer 
 In the spring-time of the year, 
 When e'en to the plants and flowers 
 Blessed spring-time brings good cheer. 
 
 Loved ones, I am with our Father; 
 
 With a loving, trusting heart, 
 
 He has called me from the great world 
 
 To a little room apart; 
 
 And with looks of love so tender 
 
 That my soul can ask no more, 
 
 ' Twixt the world, with all its gladness, 
 
 And myself, He's shut the door. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 87 
 
 For He has such words to whisper 
 
 As must be in quiet heard, 
 
 For His sweet voice is so low-toned 
 
 Noise might make me lose a word. 
 
 Sickness means, so close to Jesus 
 
 In a little room apart, 
 
 With shut door, that every whisper 
 
 Through the ear glides to the heart. 
 
 Loved ones, the shut door will open 
 
 When the whispering is done, 
 
 And I leave the darkened chamber . 
 
 Not a sad and weary one; 
 
 Not a soul that has been smitten 
 
 By a cruel, stinging rod, 
 
 But a mortal blest and strengthened 
 
 By an interview with God. 
 
 All which I had known of human love; 
 all that I had missed ; the dreams from which 
 I had been startled ; the hopes that had evaded 
 me ; the patience that comes from knowing that 
 we may not even try not to be misunderstood ; 
 the struggle to keep a solitary heart sweet; 
 the anticipation of desolate age, which casts 
 its shadow .backward upon the dial of middle 
 life ; the paralysis of feeling which creeps on 
 with its disuse, the distrust of one's own atro- 
 phied faculties of loving ; the sluggish wonder 
 if one is ceasing to be lovable ; the growing 
 
88 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 difficulty of explaining one's self even when it 
 is necessary, because no one being more than 
 another cares for the explanation ; the things 
 which a lonely life converts into silence that 
 cannot be broken, swept upon me like rapids — 
 all this He understands. 
 
 Elizabeth Stuakt Phelps. 
 
 After the Rain. 
 
 After the rain, my friend, 
 
 After the rain, 
 Soon will the Father send 
 
 Gladness again. 
 
 Weeping endures awhile, 
 
 Joy comes at last, 
 Bright the world shall smile 
 
 When tears are past. 
 
 After the rain there's cheer ; 
 
 After the rain, 
 Skies will be calm and clear, 
 
 Birds sing again. 
 
 Blossoms shall open their eyes 
 
 Blooming and bright, 
 Earth be a paradise, 
 
 Life a delight. 
 
 Only be hopeful, sweet, 
 
 Never complain; 
 Daisies will kiss your feet 
 
 After the rain. E. K. Storey. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 89 
 
 Dr. Chalmers to an Invalid Sister. 
 " My dear Isabel. — I am glad to hear that 
 you are not worse. I hope that you got Clark's 
 ' Scripture Promises ' ; but whether you have 
 got the book or not, you have a far nobler pri- 
 vilege in your access to the Bible. I stated that 
 you ought not to fatigue yourself by reading ; 
 and indeed, in as far as the Bible is concerned, 
 I should imagine that when one is sickly and 
 unwell the best way of reading it would be, 
 here a little, and there a little. A single verse, 
 in fact, might, by the power and demonstration 
 of God's Holy Spirit, be made the instrument 
 of comfort to one's spirit for hours together. It 
 is a great matter when the mind dwells on any 
 passage of Scripture just to think how true it is. 
 This is acting or exercising faith upon it, and 
 the exercise of faith is at all times salutary. For 
 example, think how true it is that God hath set 
 forth Christ as a propitiation for sin, and in the 
 course of so thinking it may so be that peace 
 shall spring up in the heart ; that guilt shall no 
 longer burden the conscience, seeing that an 
 atonement hath been provided for it by God 
 Himself; that a sense of reconciliation shall 
 gladden the soul now at rest, because now rest- 
 
90 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 ing on the sure foundation of God's own Word ; 
 and thus it is that a weary and heavy laden 
 sinner may come to great peace and great joy in 
 believing. 
 
 " I know that many read the Bible daily, and 
 have opened and read it many thousand times 
 in their lives, without its producing any such 
 effects. Unless the Spirit of God open our 
 eyes to behold the wondrous things that are 
 contained in the Book of God's law it will re- 
 main a sealed book to us. But how comforta- 
 ble to think that the Spirit is given to those 
 who ask Him from God ; that He is promised 
 to guide us into all truth, and to keep all things 
 in our remembrance; and that if we ask we 
 shall receive, if we seek we shall find, if we 
 knock, the door shall be opened to us. There 
 is no want, in short, of willingness with God. 
 To find His mercy, all that is needful for us is 
 to feel our own misery, and to cry for relief. 
 He who giveth the ravens their food will hear 
 us when we cry ; for be assured that His ear is 
 ever open to our prayer." 
 
 What she suffered she shook off in the sunshine. 
 
 Mrs. Browning. 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 9 1 
 
 Soul Hunger. 
 
 Lord, my weary soul sustain, 
 Uphold me with Thy grace; 
 
 Earth's clearest pleasures are in vain, 
 Unless I see Thy face. 
 
 1 hunger for the bread of life, 
 I thirst for righteousness; 
 
 My aching spirit worn with strife, 
 Yearns for Thy tenderness. 
 
 Without Thy fond embracing arm, 
 
 I faint, and fall, and die; 
 Each shadow fills me with alarm — 
 
 0, hear my plaintive cry. 
 
 And, when Thou hearest, answer, Lord, 
 
 Abiding peace bestow, 
 Then shall I rest upon Thy word, 
 
 And Thy salvation know. 
 
 Oecile Sturtevant. 
 
 " Surely He hath borne our griefs, and carried 
 our sorrows : yet we did esteem Him stricken, 
 smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was 
 wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised 
 for our iniquities : the chastisement of our peace 
 was upon Him ; and with His stripes we are 
 healed." — Isaiah liii., 4-5. 
 
92 
 
 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Rest 
 To step out of self -life into Christ- life ; to 
 lie still and let Him lift you out of it; to fold 
 your hands close and hide your face upon the 
 hem of His robe ; to let Him lay His cooling, 
 soothing, healing hands upon your soul, and 
 draw all the hurry and fever from its veins ; to 
 realize that you are not a mighty messenger, an 
 important worker of His, full of care and re- 
 sponsibility, but only a little child with a Fa- 
 ther's gentle bidding to heed and fulfil ; to lay 
 your busy plans and ambitions confidently in 
 His hands, as the child brings its broken toys 
 at its mother's call ; to serve Him by waiting ; 
 to praise Him by saying, " Holy, holy, holy," a 
 single note of praise, as do the seraphim of the 
 heavens, if that be His will; to cease to hurry 
 so that you lose sight of His face ; to learn to 
 follow Him and not run ahead of orders ; to 
 cease to live in self and for self, and to live in 
 Him and for Him ; to love His honor more than 
 your own ; to be a clear and facile medium for 
 His life-tide to shine and glow through — this is 
 consecration, and this is rest. 
 
 " Was never payne but it had joy at last 
 In the fay re morrowe." 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 93 
 
 Seeking the Cross. 
 
 The path was long and dreary, 
 
 No bud e'er blossomed there; 
 The winds were cold and piercing, 
 
 Sad echoes fraught with prayer. 
 
 Onward, forever toiling, 
 
 Seeking the upward way, 
 To yonder Cross e'er looking 
 
 Gleaming in Heaven's ray. 
 
 Oh, for but one sweet flower, 
 
 For a breath of blossoms rare, 
 For a touch of the lips of the roses, 
 
 For a smile of the lilies fair. 
 
 But no, my path leads onward, 
 
 On yon far Cross mine eyes; 
 My feet amid the briars, 
 
 My face toward the skies. 
 
 Behold, an angel calleth, 
 
 "The Cross is close to thee! 
 Dear child, look low and nearer, 
 
 And thine eyes the Lord shall see." 
 
 0, joy of joys eternal, 
 
 long-sought Cross divine! 
 It rose from a bank of flowers 
 
 And I knelt at the fragrant shrine! 
 
 Ah, how too often, blindly 
 
 We seek great works to do, 
 When little duties lie undone 
 
 And joys are hid from view. 
 
 Sara Keables Hunt. 
 
94 
 
 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 Solace in Sickness. 
 
 Clouded with sickness, Lord, languid with pain, 
 I cannot work, or meditate, or pray; 
 The night is dreary, and forlorn the day. 
 
 From Nature or from Grace I seek in vain 
 
 Some gleam of comfort. Shall I not complain 
 Of precious golden sands, which slip away 
 Out of Time's hour-glass, touched with no sweet ray 
 
 Of service, or of spiritual gain? 
 
 "Not so!" a Voice replied. " For each dark hour 
 Patiently borne, for each sharp pain and ache, 
 An added jewel in thy crown shall shake, 
 
 And gathered ' weight' accrue to ' Glory's' dower. 
 Sufferings are gifts; accept them for My sake, 
 And from earth's sighs Heaven's music shall awake." 
 
 Eichard Wilton. 
 
 How dependent I have been upon the outer 
 senses, and what confidence I have reposed in 
 the report of the bodily organs of perception ! 
 In studying my life, I see my faith in the uni- 
 formity of visible nature has been constant and 
 uniform. But I cannot give the same report 
 of my faith in the uniformity and constancy of 
 the laws which govern the unseen. O Lord! 
 increase my faith. How much more careful I 
 should have been, and how much more useful 
 I should be, if my faith in the God of grace 
 
SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 95 
 
 were as steadfast as my faith in the God of 
 nature. In agriculture I know that the return 
 to the farmer is proportional to his outlay. If 
 he give a small measure of ploughing, a small 
 measure of fertilizing, a small measure of seed, 
 and a small measure of attention, the crop will 
 be small. I see throughout nature that the 
 greater mass draws the smaller to it, that as 
 men increase in riches their wealth grows with 
 increasing rapidity, that as men acquire in- 
 fluence it comes more and more rapidly — as all 
 small streams flow together to make great rivers 
 and all rivers run down to the sea. Oh, that I 
 may perceive and believe that this principle 
 holds good in things spiritual \-From the Deems 
 Birth-Day Book. 
 
 Not Knowing. 
 
 I KN"OW not what will befall me! 
 
 God hangs a mist o'er my eyes; 
 And thus at each step of my onward path 
 
 He makes new scenes arise, 
 And every joy He sends me comes 
 
 As a sweet and glad surprise. 
 
 I see not a step before me, 
 
 As I tread on another year; 
 But the past is still in God's keeping, 
 
 The future His mercy shall clear, 
 
96 SUNSHINE FOR DARK HOURS. 
 
 And what looks dark in the distance 
 May brighten as I draw near. 
 
 For perhaps the dreaded future 
 
 Is less bitter than I think; 
 And the Lord may sweeten the waters 
 
 Before I stoop to drink; 
 Or, if Marah must be Marah, 
 
 He will stand beside its brink. 
 
 It may be He keeps waiting 
 
 For the coming of my feet, 
 Some gift of such rare blessedness, 
 
 Some joy so strangely sweet, 
 That my lips can only tremble 
 
 With the thanks I cannot speak. 
 
 So I go on, not knowing; 
 
 I would not if I might; 
 I would rather walk in the dark with God, 
 
 Than go alone in the light, 
 I would rather walk with Him by faith, 
 
 Than walk alone by sight. 
 
 My heart shrinks back from trials 
 Which the future may disclose, 
 
 Yet I never had a sorrow, 
 But what the dear Lord chose; 
 
 So I send the coming tears back 
 
 With the whispered word "He knows," 
 
 
HEALTH. IRJEST. 
 
 WHERE SHALL I GO TO GET WELL? 
 
 This is the question that thousands of chronic invalids are asking, to 
 whom health is possible only toy a thorough course of treatment and 
 change of habits. They need the comforts of home, tout they need also to 
 toe away from home, and under the daily advice and care of skilled phy- 
 sicians, to lead them toy the use of natural agencies hack to health. 
 
 The Sanatorium at Dansville, New York. 
 
 MANAGING PHYSICIANS: 
 
 JAMES H. JACKSON, M.D. - KATE J. JACKSON, M.D. 
 
 Is Open Winter and Summer. 
 
 Every arrangement is made to secure health to the sick, and quiet and 
 best to those who are worn out and exhausted. 
 
 Here the health and strength seeker finds the life-giviag air of the hills, 
 untainted by malaria; pure water; perfect drainage (not a soil pipe in or 
 under the buildings); delightful scenery; the comforts and helpful influ- 
 ences of a Christian home; experienced physicians devoted to their work; 
 trained attendants; all approved forms of treatment scientifically admin- 
 istered; a liberal and wholesome table; the equable temperature of steam 
 heat throughout ; telephonic and telegraphic facilities ; electric bells ; 
 safety elevator. The main building is absolutely fire-proof. 
 
 The kindness and gentleness of the attendants cannot be excelled. The 
 skill of the physicians and nurses has the successful history of years for 
 its Indorsement. Rev. Charles S. Robinson, D.D., New York City. 
 
 Use my name for anything which can serve the interests of The Sana- 
 torium. Do 1 not owe to it all that I am? Claba Barton, Washington, D.C. 
 
 The Sanatorium is the best place this side of Paradise for the tired and 
 sick. Rev. J. A. Tbimmeb, Pompton, N. J. 
 
 I am always glad to stand for The Sanatorium and to tell abroad its good 
 name. Thomas W. Bicknell, Editor Journal of Education, Boston. 
 " I never lose an opportunity to say a good word for The Sanatorium. 
 Professor R. H. Thurston, Cornell University. 
 
 Send for Testimonials and Descriptive Pamphlets. Address, with stamp, 
 JAMES H. JACKSON, M.D., Dansville, Liv. Co., N. Y. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 022 168 894 6 
 
 WORKS BY CHARLES I dsmr^D^mai 
 
 Pastor of the Church of the Strangers, New York, 
 
 CHRISTIAN THOUGHT. 
 
 This is a Bi-monthly, So pp., handsomely printed, containing the L 
 
 Papers read before the American t'nstitute of Christian Philosop:, 
 many other articles. Read the following opinions : 
 President Porter: " So many able articles, some of them very able," Joseph 
 Cook:, Boston: "Many brilliant and powerful pages." Prof. Smith, University 
 of Virginia: "I had no idea the journal was so U7icommonly excellent.'' 
 Dr. Waylakd: " The best Christian thought of the day." Rev. Dr. TJrink 
 house: " There is no more worthy publication." Rev. Dr. Edwards: "Brimful 
 of intensely interesting and instructive matter.'' $2.00 a year; Clergymen. Si. 50. 
 Specimen copy, 25 cents. Contents of Volumes 1, 2 and 3 sent on application. 
 
 THE HOME ALTAR. 
 
 An appeal in behalf of Family Worship, with Prayers and Hymns for the Family 
 and a Calendar of Lessons from Scripture for every day in the yeai 
 Edition. Cloth. 28 1 pages. Price 75 cents. 
 
 From the many notices the following are selected: 
 
 " This little volume we have read again and again, and cannot speak too well 
 of it. There will be hardly any need of preaching on family prayers where i 
 culates."— Bishop McTyeire. 
 
 " It seems impossible to read it and continue delinquent in regard to the dttty 
 in question. The prayers are all catholic and scriptural." — Rev.. Dr Summers. 
 
 " The appeal contained in it for family worship is the most powerful and per- 
 suasive we have ever read, and it seems to us must be irresistible." — Pev. W. H. 
 Hunter. 
 
 " It is one of the ablest essays on the subject we have ever read." — Rf' 
 Crook- 
 
 WHAT NOW ? 
 
 !adie» 
 
 This is the title of a beautiful book intended to be a present to youn^ 
 quitting school and entering life. 
 Whole classes in some of our leading institutions have received copies as pres- 
 euts on graduating. As a Christmas or Birthday present, or token of kind regard 
 for a young lady, nothing is more appropriate. Cloth. 126 pages. Price 50 cts. 
 
 DR. DEEMS'S SERMONS. 
 
 Forty-eight discourses, comprising Sunday morning sermons, preached from the 
 pulpit of the "Church of the Strangers," New YGrk. Cloth. Svo, 304 pp 
 
 WEIGHTS AND WINGS. 
 
 We give the following as a specimen of the tone of all the notices of the 
 which we have seen : 
 
 " A very handsome volume, whose contents are well worthy of the faultless 
 dress in which the publishers have sent them forth. No professing Christian who 
 reads it thoroughly can remain in doubt as to whether his Church membership 
 is a help or a hindrance to his pastor — a 'weight or a wing'— as he prosecutes his 
 laborious and painfully responsible mission. The whole tendency of the book is 
 to improve the relations of communicants to their pastors; and it would be remun- 
 erative to the latter to urge its'circulation. There is a freshness and force about 
 these forty -five chapters which would never arouse the suspicion that the writer 
 is the pastor of a large and popular city church, and at the same time the editor 
 of one of the foremost magazines of the country." — Southern. Christian Ad-;' 
 Cloth. 27a pages. Price $1.00. 
 
 EVOLUTION: A SCOTCH VERDICT. 
 
 This book contains the substance of the lecture delivered by Dr. Deems, at 
 Chautauqua, before the German Theological School of Newark, and else- 
 where, with much added matter. It is the latest discussion of the qi 
 pages, paper cover, 20 cents. 
 
 THE GREATER BLESSEDNESS. 
 
 A new tract by.Rev, Dr. Deems. Five cents. 
 
 book, no matter where published or advertised. "~Send for circulars. 
 
 WILBUR B, KETCHAM, Publisher, 71 Bible House, N