S LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 # . 
 
 I ^^^. 
 
 UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. 
 

AMONG THE LILIES 
 
 AND ELSEWHEEE, 
 
 WITH JESUS. 
 
 PLEASANT TALKS WITH THE YOUNG OX PASSAGES 
 OF SCRIPTURE. 
 
 BY THE 
 Rev. CHARLES A. SMITH, D.D. 
 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 
 
 EST. 
 
 / 
 
WASHINGTON 
 
 T>C 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 
 
 THE TRUSTEES OF THE 
 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OP PUBLICATION, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 W e s t c o t t & Thomson, 
 Stercutypers, Plulada. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Among the Lilies 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 With the Birds 29 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 The Vine and the Branches 57 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 How to Build 83 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 In the Light 103 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Chbisi at the Door 125 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 iy and a Candle 147 
 
 3 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Prayer and Promise 167 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Love and Obedience 5 189 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Seed-Sowing , 211 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 In Simon's House 237 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Among the Five Thousand 259 
 
Hmong the ffcilxts. 
 
" Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow ; they toil not, 
 neither do they spin ; and yet I say unto you, That even Solomon 
 in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these" — Matthew 
 vi. 28, 29. 
 6 
 
AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 TF I were to ask, "What are eyes made 
 A for?" you would answer, "They are 
 made to look at everything that is beautiful 
 — at the bright stars that shine above us, and 
 the lovely flowers that grow in our garden- 
 beds, the buttercups that peep with such a 
 roguish look out of the green meadows, and 
 the columbine that climbs the rocks in the 
 shady woods." 
 
 All these things make us very glad and 
 happy if our hearts are only full of love to 
 God, and therefore we ought to be thank- 
 ful to our heavenly Father that he has 
 given us eyes, and has created the light, 
 
8 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 and made the stars and the flowers to bring 
 so much joy to us. 
 
 I write in the opening flower season. The 
 snow that covered the fields during the long 
 winter has passed away. I do not know 
 whether you prefer the snow or the flowers. 
 I remember reading of a boy who, when the 
 meadows put on their new green dress, and 
 the birds came back again and sung their 
 sweet songs, wished that the spring would 
 remain all the year round. But when 
 summer appeared with its pleasant fruits, 
 he wished it were always summer. And 
 then autumn followed, and there were nut- 
 gatherings, and the apples were taken from 
 the orchard into the cellar, and the leaves 
 of the trees, touched by the early frost, had 
 as many colors as the rainbow, and he was 
 so happy that he wished autumn would 
 never leave. Then winter brought the 
 snow, and scattered it over the green fields 
 and made them all white, and the rivers 
 were frozen, and there were bright fires in 
 
AMONG THE LILIES. 9 
 
 the house, and so many pleasures in-doors 
 and out that the boy who had been in love 
 with spring and summer and autumn wished 
 it might always be winter. 
 
 Every season brings its own joys; and 
 though you may be very glad that winter is 
 gone and the bright spring days have come 
 again, I am very certain that you are fond 
 of winter, too, and that you were made as 
 happy by the Christmas tree in December 
 as you will be by the roses in June. 
 
 God sends the snow as well as the flowers. 
 He sends it to keep the flowers warm during 
 the cold winter days and nights. Did you 
 ever think of this? If not, think of it now. 
 Remember that the flowers will be all the 
 more beautiful because God wrapped their 
 roots so kindly and carefully in the thick 
 mantle of snow that lay so many weeks 
 upon the ground. 
 
 In some parts of the world the snow is 
 never seen and the flowers are always 
 blooming, but we have no reason to envy 
 
10 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 those who dwell in these warmer regions, 
 for they have only the one blessing, while 
 we have the flowers and the snow too. 
 
 Now, as often as yon go into the field or the 
 garden these sunny days, I want you to obey 
 the command of Jesus and consider the lilies, 
 and not only the lilies, but the violets and the 
 tulips, and buds and blossoms of every kind ; 
 for they are all beautiful, and they all bring 
 the same lessons. Whenever you pick a 
 blade of grass or examine a leaf, you should 
 use not only your eyes, but your thoughts 
 also. That is what the Saviour means. He 
 speaks as if every field and every garden 
 were a school-room in which you are to 
 learn how to be wise and good. And here 
 the gentle flowers are to be your teachers. 
 But though they never frown or scold, they 
 say very serious things, as we shall learn 
 hereafter. 
 
 The horse and the ox have eyes with 
 which they can see as well as you, but 
 they cannot consider. The bee looks at the 
 
AMONG THE LILIES. 11 
 
 sweet clover, and the humming-bird, poised 
 by the rapid movement of its wings, thrusts 
 its long, slender bill into lilies and honey- 
 suckles in a very curious way ; but bees and 
 birds can do little more with their eyes than 
 see how to construct their hives and build 
 their nests and gather their food ; they can- 
 not consider. 
 
 You know by this time that the word 
 "consider" means think, reflect. If I hold 
 a flower in my hand carelessly, and then 
 throw it carelessly away, I am not doing 
 what the Saviour tells me to do when he 
 says, " Consider the lilies.'' But if the 
 flower reminds me of my heavenly Father's 
 love, and of the love I owe to him, I am 
 learning in part from my gentle teacher 
 what I ought to learn, I am doing in part 
 what I ought to do, for I am tracing God in 
 the flower, I am tracing the wisdom, power 
 and love that were concerned in its creation. 
 
 The first lesson I want you to learn from 
 1 1 1 « - lilies is, that we should rive thanks to 
 
12 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 God for all things beautiful. Whenever you 
 look at the flowers after this, remember the 
 Being who made them ; remember his love 
 in giving you eyes to see them and hearts to 
 love both them and him. 
 
 But there is another lesson. You are not 
 only to think about the flowers, you are also 
 to consider how they grow. 
 
 This, I am very sure, has often made you 
 wonder. Take a seed of any kind, and put 
 it in the ground where the rain-drops can 
 moisten it, and the bright, warm sun can 
 shine upon it, and the seed will soon begin 
 to swell, and then the shell that covers it 
 will break, and then a small green leaf will 
 push away the ground and look out into the 
 pleasant light, and then another leaf will 
 grow upon the stem, and this will be fol- 
 lowed by another, and the young plant will 
 become taller and taller, until at last a bud 
 will be formed, and that will open into a 
 beautiful flower. 
 
 Now, where did that stem, and that flower, 
 
A3I0XG THE LILIES. 13 
 
 and all these leaves, come from ? Why, they 
 all eame out of the little seed. Put a grain 
 of corn in the ground, and it will grow and 
 grow until it is taller than you are, and the 
 stalk will produce leaves as long as your 
 arm. and when you come to gather the ears, 
 instead of the single kernel which you put 
 in the ground, you will have fixe hundred 
 or a thousand kernels. Strange, is it not ? 
 
 I hit there are many things stranger than 
 this. Not far from here is an apple tree 
 that has been growing many years, and it is 
 larger round than your body, and almost as 
 tall as the house you live in, and its long 
 crooked branches reach out in every direc- 
 tion, and it bears so many leaves that you 
 could not count them, and more apples in 
 the summer than you could eat through the 
 long winter. It is hard to believe that that 
 great tree, with all its branches and leaves 
 and fruit, was once hidden in a little seed. 
 Yet this is true, for if you plant the seed, 
 the tree will be sure to come out of it. Nor 
 
14 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 did the tree fill the whole of the seed, but 
 was stowed away in a part of it, so small 
 that you could not have seen it with your 
 naked eye, and perhaps not with the most 
 powerful microscope. I do not mean that 
 the tree was as large as it is now. It was so 
 small that the point of a needle might have 
 covered it. But from that small beginning 
 in the seed has it come to be what it is. 
 
 You now understand in part what Jesus 
 means when he says, "Consider how the 
 lilies grow." Just like the corn, just like 
 the tree, the lilies are hidden in the seed, 
 and when the seed is warmed by the sun 
 and moistened by the rain they come out of 
 it, first showing their green leaves, and then 
 their beautiful bell-shaped flowers. These 
 flowers vary both in size and color. They 
 are sometimes pure white, sometimes deep 
 red and sometimes brilliant yellow. The 
 lily of the valley mentioned in Solomon's 
 Song is not the little flower which we call 
 by that name, but a much larger one that 
 
AMONG Till-: LILIES. 15 
 
 grows wild in the fields of Palestine. As 
 Jesus, when he was talking, looked upon 
 these fields in which the lilies were bloom- 
 ing in rich abundance, it may be that the 
 white and the red and the golden were 
 all grouped together, and that this lovely 
 blending reminded him of the robes of 
 kings when he said that even Solomon in 
 all his glory was not arrayed like one of 
 tlu - 
 
 Listen now to what else is said of the 
 manner in which the lilies grow. " They 
 toil not, neither do they spin." You know 
 what it is to toil. Toil is hard, wearisome 
 work. And you know what it is to spin. 
 Perhaps you have seen the silk- worm 
 wrapped up in a beautiful case, all made of 
 silk, which comes out of the body of the 
 worm. This silk is very fine — almost as fine 
 
 the spider's web — and many threads of it 
 
 put together and twisted into one, and 
 
 irger threads are woven into a fabric 
 
 like that of which your dresses are some- 
 
16 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 times made. The finest and most costly- 
 velvets are formed in this way. Well, the 
 lilies neither toil nor spin, and yet the robes 
 of Solomon, though he was a king, were not 
 as beautiful as they. 
 
 Jesus does not mean that the lilies have 
 nothing to do. They are never idle. Through 
 their broad leaves they breathe just as you 
 breathe through your lungs, and by means 
 of their roots they are constantly eating and 
 drinking, or they would not live. But 
 then they do it so silently and gently that 
 you would not think they were doing it at 
 all. They do not fret, and scold, and worry, 
 and act as if everything was going wrong 
 with them when the sky is a little dark or 
 the ground a little dry. They seem to know 
 that God is watching over them ; and though 
 they do not know it, they behave as wisely 
 as if they did. If men and women w T ere as 
 full of trust and as full of contentment as 
 the lilies are, they would not have as many 
 wrinkles and cares as they have now. 
 
AMONG THE LILIES. 17 
 
 The second lesson I want yon to remember 
 is that God takes care of the flowers. 
 
 What is the first lesson? 
 
 We should thank God for all beautiful 
 things. 
 
 And what is the second f 
 
 God takes care of the flowers. 
 
 Remember these lessons when you see 
 the flowers grow. Remember that they are 
 talking to you all the while about God. 
 They have not tongues, as you have, but 
 they talk, nevertheless. 
 
 Talking is not all done with the tongue. 
 I have seen children again and again talk 
 with their eyes and their looks. When 
 they have been doing right their eyes tell 
 me that they are happy, and when they 
 have been doing wrong, when they have 
 been unkind or disobedient, I can find it 
 out by only looking at them, though they 
 may not say a word. Well, the flowers have 
 their own language, just as your eyes have, 
 and they always -peak pleasantly, and kindly, 
 
18 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 and wisely, and truthfully. They say there 
 is a God, and that if they are beautiful and 
 sweet he has made them so, and that he 
 watches over them, and causes them to bloom 
 and fill the air with fragrance. You must 
 learn this language, so that you will know 
 what the lilies and the roses are saying to 
 you. 
 
 But there are still other lessons that the 
 Saviour wants us to learn — lessons even 
 more important than those I have already 
 mentioned — and the chief one is that we are 
 to have faith in God. 
 
 When Jesus was preaching to the people 
 on the Mount of Olives he knew that many 
 of them were very much troubled as to what 
 they should eat, and what they should drink, 
 and what they should put on, just as many 
 are troubled now. And he wanted to per- 
 suade them that it was foolish and sinful to 
 allow such thoughts to make them unhappy, 
 so he told them of the lilies of the field, that 
 are not tenderly nursed like garden flowers, 
 
AMONG THE LILIES. 19 
 
 and yet grow and flourish, and fill the air 
 with their sweet odors. If God takes care 
 of the lilies, and dresses them so beautifully, 
 he will also take care of the children. 
 
 Now, I know that you are not concerned 
 about raiment, because you have faith — faith 
 in your parente, for you are certain that 
 they will provide for you all the clothes you 
 want, so that when the old are wearing out 
 you do not trouble yourselves about the new. 
 AVell, then, you are to have this same faith 
 in God, and even a larger, stronger faith, if 
 possible, because he loves you more than any 
 of your earthly friends do, however great 
 their love may be, and does more for you 
 every day than they can possibly do. He 
 has made you, and watches over you when 
 you are asleep and when you are awake. 
 Wherever you are, your heavenly Father is 
 at your side, and puts his arm tenderly 
 around you. 
 
 Especially are you to trust God because 
 he can give you a dress that is more beauti- 
 
20 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 ful than anything else in the world — more 
 beautiful than the robes of Solomon, more 
 beautiful than the flowers, more beautiful 
 than the sun or the stars or the brightest 
 diamonds. I mean a kind temper, a gentle, 
 loving disposition, the dress that Jesus wore 
 when he was on the earth. You know very 
 well that you are often angry, and unkind, 
 and fretful, and selfish — that you are not 
 always willing to do what your parents and 
 teachers tell you to do, that you are not 
 always careful to make others happy. The 
 Saviour came to take away these feelings 
 which are so wrong and sinful, and to give 
 you his own spirit, which is the spirit of 
 love and gentleness. 
 
 If you want this spirit, you must look to 
 Jesus for it, just as you look to your parents 
 for the clothes you wear. You must love 
 him, and then vou will trust him. You 
 must trust him, aud then you will love him. 
 Love and trust always go together, because 
 they are one and the same. And Jesus 
 
AMOXG THE LILIES. 21 
 
 wants you to come to him, and ask him for 
 
 a new heart, for a loving heart — a heart that 
 will make you love others, and that will 
 make others love you. 
 
 I have a book written in the German lan- 
 guage that tells about a boy named John 
 Muller who had just such a heart. He was 
 always ready to do anything that would add 
 to the happiness of others. It is a long 
 story, and I cannot therefore repeat it now, 
 but one incident was this : Upon a certain 
 holiday his classmates and himself were 
 going with their teacher on a pleasant excur- 
 sion to a neighboring mountain ; and John, 
 whose father was by no means rich, had 
 worked hard, early and late, for several 
 days, in order to earn money enough to pay 
 his own way. Well, the day came, and a 
 bright and beautiful day it was, and John 
 felt as happy as any boy could feel with the 
 pn epect of such a delightful trip before him. 
 But just as he was on the point of starting 
 he learned that one of his schoolfellows, to 
 
22 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 whom he was strongly attached, had been 
 severely injured, by the falling of a piece of 
 timber from a new house, as he was walking 
 along the street. And now the question 
 arose in the mind of John whether he ought 
 not to give up all his cherished plans which 
 he had labored so hard to realize. The 
 struggle was a hard one, for even his mo- 
 ther, who was a kind woman, thought the 
 sacrifice too great, and told him he was very 
 foolish to think of it. But John was reso- 
 lute in doing what he thought right, as all 
 true heroes are, and so, instead of going to 
 the mountain that day, he sat by the bed- 
 side of his sick friend, and by words of 
 cheer and deeds of kindness made him for- 
 get his pain. 
 
 I want to ask you whether you do not 
 think a boy or a girl with a heart like that 
 — a heart like the heart of the loving 
 Saviour- — more beautiful than a flower, how- 
 ever beautiful that may be. You would love 
 such a boy or girl, I am sure, more than you 
 
AMOm THE LILIES. 23 
 
 Would love a lily or a rose — more than you 
 would love a garden of roses. 
 
 The most costly dress of silk or velvet 
 can never hide a bad temper. You have 
 sometimes seen a boy in a new suit look 
 very proud, and strut, and put on airs, as 
 if he were better than other boys. Now, 
 I do not say it is wrong to dress neatly, or 
 even elegantly, but it is very wrong to think 
 that we are better than others because we 
 can afford to wear better clothes. They 
 alone are robed more beautifully than Solo- 
 mon, more beautifully than the lilies, who 
 have put on Christ, who have his tender, 
 loving heart. 
 
 Have faith in God. This is the second 
 lesson I want you to remember. 
 
 And there is still another. You are to 
 grow like the lilies. 
 
 At first they do not promise a great deal. 
 When the young leaves begin to peep out of 
 the ground you would not expect the large, 
 brilliant flowers if you did not know they 
 
24 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 were coming, but they keep on reaching 
 higher and higher, and so every day we love 
 them more. 
 
 Do you understand what I mean when I 
 say you are to grow like the lilies ? I do 
 not mean that you are to become more beau- 
 tiful in face or form. This is not the chief 
 thing, and without something better it is 
 absolutely nothing. I mean that you are to 
 grow in goodness. You are to become more 
 useful every day, more like the Saviour. 
 
 There was once a young girl who loved 
 flowers dearly, and had a small garden where 
 she cultivated the most beautiful with her 
 own hands. So one day toward the end of 
 winter her father brought her a bulb, which 
 looked as much like an onion as anything 
 else, and she placed it in a small pot filled 
 with earth. Before long the earth began to 
 rise, and then green leaves appeared. Emily's 
 care and affection increased as the flower 
 gradually unfolded. She sprinkled it with 
 water, and whenever the sun looked through 
 
AMONG THE LILIES. 25 
 
 the -window she placed it where the sun- 
 beams would fall upon it. At length the 
 flower bloomed. Twelve bells had ojoened 
 at the dawn of morning. They hung sus- 
 pended between five dark -green leaves. 
 Their color was red like the sky at the 
 rising of the sun, and a sweet fragrance 
 surrounded them. Emily had never con- 
 ceived such magnificence. Her joy was 
 noiseless and without words. But her heart 
 was full of strong emotions, for she loved 
 the Saviour more than all things else, and 
 she wanted to grow more and more into his 
 likeness ; and when her father at that mo- 
 ment entered the room she clasjDed him in 
 her arm.-, and whispered, " Oh, my father, 
 may I also bloom as beautiful as this flower !" 
 
 The fourth lesson I want you to learn is 
 that we are to fjrow in goodness. 
 
 Whenever you look now at the beautiful 
 things that are seen in fields and gardens, 
 be thankful to your heavenly Father who 
 has made them all, and remember that he 
 
26 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 takes care of them and of you, and that 
 therefore you should trust and love him, 
 and that you should become every day 
 more like Jesus, who was called the Rose 
 of Sharon and the Lily of the Valley be- 
 cause he was so gentle and pure. 
 
 " There is a lesson in each flower, 
 A story in each stream and bower ; 
 In every herb on which you tread 
 Are written words which, rightly read, 
 Will lead you from earth's fragrant sod 
 To hope, and holiness, and God." 
 
 n^ r m«^ s ^ 
 
ify th o t $irbs. 
 
 27 
 
"Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they 
 reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth 
 them. Are ye not much better than they?" — Matt. vi. 26. 
 
 28 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 WITH THE BIRDS. 
 
 YV^HEX Jesus speaks of "the fowls of the 
 air," he means the birds. It is the 
 same as if he had said, " Behold the birds, 
 for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor 
 gather into barns." 
 
 But why are the birds called the fowls of 
 the air ? Because they have wings, and can 
 fly in the air far above the earth until each 
 one seems like a little speck in the sky, and 
 then higher still until they are out of sight, 
 and when it rains they can fly above the 
 clouds, and sail about in the bright sunshine 
 while the raindrops are falling thick and 
 fast on the earth. 
 
 You have often watched the birds soaring 
 away beyond the trees and beyond the moun- 
 
 29 
 
30 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 tain-tops, and you have admired their grace- 
 ful movements, now going upward by means 
 of the rapid motion of their wings, and then 
 for a moment remaining perfectly still, as 
 if perched upon the wind, and then darting 
 down so swiftly as to make you hold your 
 breath for fear of their dashing against the 
 ground, and when your eyes were wide open 
 with concern, suddenly poising themselves, 
 and sailing upward again with such a direct 
 aim for the sun, as if they were making a 
 railway of the sunbeams. 
 
 You have, perhaps, often wished for wings, 
 that, like the birds, you might fly far above 
 the trees and the storms. But we can hardly 
 call that a wise wish, because it is wishing 
 that God had made you different from what 
 you are. Even in this respect you are 
 better than the birds — better without wings 
 than you would be with them. We must 
 be very careful that in our wishes we do not 
 find fault with God's mode of doing things. 
 He has made you to walk and to run, and 
 
11727/ THE BIRDS. 31 
 
 not to fly. Nor is there anything more 
 beautiful than a happy child walking over 
 the fields, or along the streams, gathering 
 the early flowers of spring, or trundling a 
 hoop along the grassy road, picking up 
 health and strength and a good appetite at 
 every step. What can be more graceful 
 than a deer running through the forest, or 
 a horse galloping in the pasture with head 
 erect, and nostrils dilated, and eyes full of 
 fire? But all this grace would vanish if they 
 had wings, and were trying to play their 
 pranks in the air. 
 
 David, the king of Israel, once said, " Oh 
 that I had wings like a dove, for then would 
 I fly away and be at rest." But he meant 
 by this only to express his great grief, and 
 his anxiety to be far away from all that 
 troubled him. David was a shepherd before 
 he became a king, and he was far happier 
 when a boy, watching his father's sheep in 
 the pastures round Bethlehem, than when he 
 sat upon a throne. A shepherd's staff is 
 
32 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 often better than a crown. So David found 
 it, for his son Absalom wanted his crown, 
 and came against him with an army of more 
 than twenty thousand men, and compelled 
 him to leave his splendid palace at Jerusa- 
 lem ; and then it was, when a wanderer and 
 a fugitive in the desert, and when it seemed 
 as if his kingdom was about to be wrested 
 from him by the ingratitude of his own son, 
 that as " a timid dove, chased by the tempest, 
 returns to her window, so David desired to 
 find a refuge from the rising storm." 
 
 But wings would not allow any one to 
 escape from trouble if there were nothing 
 else. I read of a boy not long ago who 
 stole some money, and then made his escape 
 on a railroad train, which travels almost as 
 fast as a bird. But the lightning goes faster, 
 and so they sent the notice of his crime and 
 flight along the wire of the telegraph, and 
 when the train stopped men were looking 
 for him, and laid their hands upon him. 
 And if the men had not been there, God 
 
WITH THE BIRDS. 33 
 
 and his own conscience would have been. 
 When yon are disobedient or unkind, when 
 you do or say anything that you know to be 
 wrong, and thus make yourself unhappy, 
 though you had wings you would not be able 
 to fly away from yourself; you would not be 
 able to fly away from God, for wherever you 
 are his eye is upon you. 
 
 Have you ever thought of the great differ- 
 ence there is in different animals, so that 
 some are made to fly, and others to walk, and 
 others to crawl, some to live where it is 
 always cold, and others to live where it is 
 always hot ? There is the camel, with his 
 queer, cushioned feet, that spread out like a 
 very soft India-rubber ball whenever they 
 press upon the loose sands of the desert, 
 and his large pouch in which he carries 
 water enough to last him fourteen days, be- 
 cause he has to travel wdiere water is very 
 
 ; ce. And there is the reindeer, who 
 needs very little food, and whom God has 
 made to li~e at the extreme Xorth, where but 
 
34 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 little food grows. So tlie birds are very 
 differently constructed from other animals, 
 or they would not be able to fly even with 
 the help of wings. 
 
 Now, I want you to find out, if you do not 
 already know, why it is that a man could 
 not fly if he had wings, and what the bird 
 has in addition to its wings that gives it this 
 power of flying. 
 
 It is better for you to find out some things 
 yourselves than to be told all about them. 
 Work always pays — I mean good work, 
 work that is right. It makes the head and 
 the heart strong, as well as the hands. If 
 you have a puzzling sum in arithmetic, or 
 any other puzzle connected with your daily 
 studies, you had better work it out yourself 
 than ask your teacher or any one else to do 
 it for you. If you have never tried it, you 
 don't know how happy it will make you feel 
 to conquer difficulties. 
 
 Now, then, after this little stroll, let us 
 come back to our bird text. You remember 
 
11727/ THE BIRDS. 35 
 
 how it roads, nor havo you forgotten what 
 Jesus says about the lilies. The birds and 
 the flowers always come and go together. 
 "When you hear the robin chirping his first 
 cautious notes in the early spring, you may 
 see the little violet looking timidly out of 
 the ground, and when the trees are in full 
 bloom, and the flowers are no longer afraid 
 of frost and snow, the birds sing loud and 
 merrily. They seem to know that with buds 
 and blossoms the summer has fairly come. 
 So our Saviour has put the birds and flowers 
 near each other in the gospel, and as he 
 sent us to school to the lilies, where we 
 learned, I trust, some very pleasant and 
 useful lessons, so here he sends us to school 
 to the birds. I doubt not we shall find 
 them quite as pleasant and gentle teachers 
 as the flowers. 
 
 All the talk we have had thus far has 
 been on our way to the school-room. Let us 
 imagine ourselves, then, to be seated where 
 the grass is growing at our feet, and where 
 
36 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 the trees are lifting their strong branches 
 and their beautiful green tops all around us. 
 It is at the break of day. We have left our 
 beds to listen to the singing of the birds, for 
 they are early risers, and if we want to hear 
 some of their sweetest notes, we must be up 
 as early as they. Did you not hear a bird 
 at your window the other morning just as 
 the day began to dawn? Beautiful sight 
 — come and see it — come and see it — beau- 
 tiful sight — it seemed to say, or rather sing, 
 as the sun rose in all his splendor, and first 
 lighted the distant hill-tops, and then flung 
 his bright, loving rays into the valleys. And 
 a beautiful sight it is thus to sit or stand 
 when the night is passing away, and watch 
 the first sunbeams as they come trooping 
 over the hills and light laughingly upon 
 leaves and branches, and nestle among the 
 flowers, and make the dewdrops sparkle, so 
 that the grass seems bespangled with dia- 
 monds. Beautiful is the sight truly, filling 
 the heart with gladness. 
 
WITH THE BIRDS. 37 
 
 I suppose you have often heard these 
 two lilies : 
 
 " Early to bed and early to rise 
 Make a man healthy, wealthy and wise." 
 
 Xow, if this is good for the man, it must 
 be equally good for the boy or the girl. 
 
 And I am inclined to think that all this is 
 true. Health certainly comes from early 
 rising, but then the "early to bed" must 
 go along with it. Many young persons, as 
 well as some who are older, keep very late 
 hours, and thus injure their health, if they 
 do not destroy it. Of all the birds the owl is 
 the only one, as far as I know, who turns day 
 into night ; and as God has made him so, it 
 is not his fault. The rest are all early risers. 
 And there is little sickness among them — so 
 little that they need no doctor, save when 
 ie wicked, thoughtless boy flings a stone 
 and breaks a leg or a wing. So we may 
 safely put it down as one of the lessons 
 they teach : 
 
38 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 "Up in the morning, up, my child, 
 Hear the bird-notes, sweet and wild ; 
 See the dew-drops, every one 
 Glistening in the sun." 
 
 But the great lesson of our text is confi- 
 dence in God. 
 
 The birds sow not, neither do they reap, 
 nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly 
 Father feedeth them. 
 
 What does this mean? I want you to 
 understand these words, and I want to be 
 very sure that you do not misunderstand 
 them. Does Jesus say here that the birds 
 do nothing ? No. He simply tells us what 
 they do not do. They do not sow, neither 
 do they reap, nor gather into barns. They 
 are as busy as the bees that treasure up their 
 honey. They are as busy as the squirrels 
 that hide away their nuts. But it is because 
 they do not do these things that they seem 
 so full of trust in God. They are not only 
 busy, they are also useful. If they did 
 nothing but sing, they would have a claim 
 
WITH THE BIRDS. 39 
 
 upon us for all they eat. When Jenny 
 Lind was in this country she received a 
 hundred thousand dollars for her singing — 
 and a wonderful singer she was — but her 
 
 most ardent admirers could utter no higher 
 praise than to call her a nightingale, and 
 m;v of her most tender and melting notes 
 that they were bird-like. But the birds 
 that sing most sweetly, and ask no money 
 f>r it, do much more than sing, while those 
 who only caw have busy lives and perform 
 many services for man. 
 
 The single matter of nest-building re- 
 quires no little time and labor. Let us look 
 at it a little. 
 
 When the robins and other birds that have 
 been away all winter return to their North- 
 ern homes, it is that they may lay their 
 - and hatch and rear their young. Bat 
 first a place must be prepared in which all 
 this is to be done. And so the materials are 
 gathered — of mud or sticks or straw, accord- 
 ing to the style of building which each bird 
 
40 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 likes best, with a soft lining, perhaps, of 
 feathers or something else. 
 
 Many of these bird-houses are curious 
 enough. Sometimes the outside is made of 
 " long, tough grass that will bend without 
 breaking, and this grass is knit or sewed 
 through and through in a thousand direc- 
 tions, just as if done with a needle." The 
 bird that builds in this manner is called the 
 orchard starling, and it usually hangs its 
 nest on the branch of an apple tree. Then 
 " there is another most beautiful little bird, 
 which is called the tailor-bird because it 
 sews so well. It first picks out a plant with 
 large leaves, then it gathers cotton from the 
 shrub, and with the help of its fine long 
 bill and slender little feet it spins this 
 cotton into a thread, and then, using its bill 
 for a needle, it will sew these large leaves 
 together to hide its nest, and sew them very 
 neatly, too." Then, again, these birds have 
 to educate their children — teach them how 
 to fly, and prepare them to take care of 
 
WITH THE BIRDS. 41 
 
 l&emselves, and while all this is going on 
 have to seek their food and bring it to the 
 nests, where the young ones are waiting for 
 it with open months. 
 
 From all this we learn that the birds are 
 not idle, though they neither sow, nor reap, 
 nor gather into barns. 
 
 We learn also the goodness of our heavenly 
 Father, who teaches them thus to work and 
 makes them happy in working. The birds 
 do not encourage idleness, and therefore 
 are useful in setting us an example of con- 
 stant, cheerful industry. So they do two 
 things at least, either of which would entitle 
 them to a living— they cheer us with their 
 music, and they teach us to be happy in our 
 
 work. 
 
 Before I leave this matter of nest-building 
 I want to say that the birds ought to be pro- 
 tected in their rights. In this country, and 
 in some other countries, every man's house 
 said to be his castle, so that neither presi- 
 nt, nor king, nor any other man, can enter 
 
42 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 it lawfully without the owner's leave. And 
 I contend here that the birds have rights 
 too — rights of property which every boy 
 and every girl should respect. The houses 
 they build are their own. If all this is true, 
 then one of the meanest of all mean actions 
 is the robbing of a bird's nest. 
 
 Last spring a robin selected as the place 
 of his residence a tree in my garden. I 
 watched the nest with great interest, fearing 
 that some accident or wrong would befall it. 
 All went on well for a while, but one day 
 I found the nest broken and the young 
 birds wounded and fluttering on the ground. 
 Whether it was an idle wind or an idle boy 
 that did the mischief, I cannot say, but it 
 made me feel very sad. The parent birds 
 were very sad too, for they flew in circles 
 around their injured little ones, and made a 
 plaintive noise that sounded very much like 
 weeping. Nor was that all. The first robin 
 I saw this spring I believe to have been one 
 of the pair whose nest was disturbed last 
 
WITH THE BIRDS. 43 
 
 summer. I believe this because, while I 
 stood near him, smiling my thanks for his 
 pleasant chirping and trying to let him 
 know, as best I could, that I was glad to see 
 him, he looked at me very suspiciously, first 
 with one eye and then with the other, and 
 in such a peculiar way that I really fear he 
 took me for the one who had tampered with 
 hi- D 
 
 It is not pleasant to be thought mean and 
 cowardly even by a bird, and I wish I were 
 only sure it was an idle wind that placed me 
 in these uncomfortable circumstances. 
 
 Stand up for the birds, boys — stand up 
 for the birds. " The swallow will fly into a 
 burning building to rescue its young. The 
 timid lark presents itself to the fowler to 
 divert him from her nest." Do not be 
 cowardly when they are so brave. Do not 
 take a mean advantage of their weakness. 
 But remember that you are to protect the 
 weak — to stand by them and help them, 
 whether they be boys or birds. 
 
44 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 When the birds seem frightened at your 
 presence, as they will be if you happen to 
 be near their young, be sure to walk away 
 at once, and thus say, as plainly as actions 
 can say, 
 
 " Go home where your mate and your little ones dwell ; 
 Though I know where they are, yet I never will tell ; 
 Nobody shall injure that leaf-covered nest, 
 For sacred to me is the place of your rest." 
 
 But nest-building is not the only employ- 
 ment in which birds are active, neither is 
 singing the only service they perform for 
 man. 
 
 They also destroy innumerable insects and 
 worms which would otherwise eat up the 
 crops, so that the harvests would be far less 
 bountiful than they are now. Thus they 
 are the means of saving millions of dollars 
 in this way every year. It may be that, 
 if it were not for the birds, we should have 
 nothing to eat. Even the crow is said to 
 be the farmer's friend, though supposed by 
 many to be a most mischievous enemy, 
 
11777/ THE BIRDS. 45 
 
 for if he pulls up the corn, it is with the 
 honest intention of getting hold of the grub 
 that lies at the root. 
 
 In the city of Philadelphia there are 
 several fine parks filled with large, beautiful 
 trees, and in the shade of these trees the 
 children are allowed to play during the 
 spring and summer, and in some of these 
 parks there are beautiful fountains, and 
 miniature rainbows span these fountains 
 whenever the sun shines brightly. But for 
 a few years past the children have been 
 driven out of these pleasant play-grounds 
 by the worms. And how do you suppose 
 it happened ? Why, squirrels were allowed 
 to come into the parks, and for a while this 
 was delightful, for they became quite tame, 
 and the children bought nuts for them, and 
 gave them as many as they could eat, and 
 were much amused to see them sit, as squir- 
 rels only can, with their bushy tails curved 
 gracefully. But the squirrels proved un- 
 friendly to the birds, and drove them away 
 
46 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 by destroying their nests. Then the worms 
 came and stripped the trees of their leaves, 
 and let themselves down from the bare 
 branches about halfway to the ground, 
 hanging upon the webs they had spun, 
 until there was neither, comfort nor beauty 
 in the parks any longer. The only remedy 
 for all this was to send the squirrels away, 
 thus inviting the birds back again, and so 
 save the foliage of the trees. 
 
 This shows what ravages the worms would 
 commit all over the world if it were not for 
 the birds. 
 
 I read a story the other day which may 
 be regarded as a sort of parable, showing how 
 much we are indebted often to the inferior 
 creatures. 
 
 " A little sparrow lighted upon a trough 
 where a horse was feeding. ' Horsie,' said the 
 little sparrow, timidly, ' let me pick a little, 
 only a grain or two, and you will still have 
 enough.' 
 
 " ' Help yourself,' said the horse to the 
 
WITH THE BIRDS. 41 
 
 sparrow — ' help yourself; there's enough for 
 both you and me.' 
 
 " Ami so they ate together, and neither the 
 one nor the other suffered from hunger ; and 
 when the warm sunshine came, and swarms 
 of flies began buzzing around, the sparrow 
 killed them by hundreds, and so the horse 
 was well paid." 
 
 Don't grudge the birds their living, for 
 they more than pay for all they get. Not 
 only do they save the orchards and the 
 grain-fields from destructive insects, but they 
 are known to have performed special services 
 that have been of great advantage to indi- 
 vidual men or to whole families. Here is 
 one story that claims to be true. 
 
 * In a village near Warsaw, the capital of 
 the kingdom of Poland, lived a pious Ger- 
 man peasant whose name was Dobry. "With- 
 out his fault, he had fallen into arrears with 
 hifi rent. It was a cold winter evening, and 
 the next day he was to be turned out with 
 all his family, when, as they sat there in 
 
48 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 sorrow, the church bell pealed for evening 
 prayer, and Dobry kneeled down with his 
 family around him. And then they sang, 
 
 " Commit thou all thy griefs 
 And ways into His hands." 
 
 And as they were singing the lines, 
 
 " When thou wouldst all our need supply, 
 Who, who shall stay thy hand ?" 
 
 there was a knock at the window. It was 
 the knock of an old friend, a raven, that 
 Dobry's grandfather had tamed, and then 
 set at liberty. Dobry opened the window, 
 and the raven hopped in, and in his bill 
 there was a ring set with precious stones. 
 Dobry brought the ring to his minister, who 
 saw at once by the crest that it belonged to 
 King Stanislaus. The minister took it to 
 the king and related the story, and the king 
 sent for Dobry, and rewarded him, so that 
 he was no more in need, and the next year 
 built him a new house, and gave him cattle 
 from his own stall, and over the house-door 
 
WITH THE BIRDS. 49 
 
 there is an iron tablet whereon is carved a 
 rayen with a ring in his beak, and under- 
 neath, this verse : 
 
 "Thou everywhere hast sway, 
 
 And all things serve thy might ; 
 Each act of thine is a bright, pure ray, 
 Thy path, unsullied light." 
 
 You remember that Noah sent first a 
 raven and then a dove from the ark, after 
 the flood, and that he sent the dove the 
 second time, when it brought back an olive- 
 twig as a sign that the waters were fast set- 
 tling away. And when Elijah the prophet 
 hid himself from Ahab near a small 
 stream that runs into the Jordan, God said: 
 " I have commanded the ravens to feed thee 
 there." "and the ravens brought him bread 
 and flesh in the morning, and bread and 
 flesh in the evening." 
 
 I have told you that the great lesson of 
 
 text is confidence in God. Do you know 
 
 what I mean by that? The birds neither 
 
 . nor reap, nor gather into barns, and 
 
50 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 yet they are just as happy as if they. did, 
 because God takes care of them. They do 
 all they can, and God does the rest. If, then, 
 we trust God as the birds do, we shall be as 
 happy as they. 
 
 But how are we to trust him? We are 
 to do all he tells us to do. There can be no 
 trust without obedience. When you trust 
 your parents you believe all their words to 
 be true and right, and you thus believe be- 
 cause you love them, and because you know 
 they love you. When you trust God you 
 believe all his words to be true and right, 
 and you are ready to do all he requires. 
 But what does he require ? He requires you 
 to love him, and to love Jesus, his own dear 
 Son, who died for you. 
 
 There is more than one way in which you 
 may find out whether you love God. If you 
 love him thus, you will love one another, 
 you will speak kind, loving words one to 
 another. You will guard against anger, 
 and all other feelings that are wrong:. You 
 
11727/ THE 1U1. 51 
 
 will think of God, and thank him when the 
 
 day begins and when it ends, at your work 
 and at your play. Some one has written : 
 
 " When morning dawn? with radiant light, 
 Chasing the shadows of the night, 
 Waking to life each warbling bird, 
 Then let our cheerful hymns be heard; 
 "When evening comes with softened beam, 
 Let praise be still our grateful theme." 
 
 should yon praise God morning and 
 evening, and pray to him also — praise him 
 for watching over you during the night — 
 praise him for giving you such kind, loving 
 friends, and so many of them — praise him 
 for your daily bread, and the pleasant sun- 
 shine, and the sight of the flowers, and the 
 songs of the birds, and, above all, for his 
 own dear Son who died to save you. You 
 should pray to your Father in heaven, as 
 soon as you wake in the morning, to pre- 
 from danger, and to keep you 
 from sin, and enable you to show T your love 
 to him all the day long. 
 
52 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 And now I want to say a few words about 
 the Saviour of whom you have heard so 
 much, and whom some of you already love. 
 I want you all to love him, because he is 
 the very best Friend you have. He can 
 help you and make you happy when no 
 other friend can. 
 
 You have sometimes been out when the 
 storm was coming. You have seen the 
 leaves and the dust blown by the strong 
 wind, and the frightened birds flying to their 
 nests or seeking shelter in the clefts of the 
 rocks. You have been frightened, I am sure 
 — have been made unhappy more than once 
 by your sins. You have felt as though you 
 wanted some place to which you might flee 
 from your own wicked heart. Now, Jesus 
 calls himself " a hiding-place from the wind, 
 and a covert from the tempest." When you 
 are in trouble, when you are afraid, wdien 
 you are tempted, he says, " Come to me." 
 Jesus alone can teach your soul to fly above 
 all temptations. As the hen gathers her 
 
11777/ THE BIRDS. 53 
 
 chickens under her wings when the hawk is 
 making ready to carry them away, so he 
 will hide you in the shadow of his power 
 if you put your trust in him. Will you not 
 all take him for your Saviour now? 
 
 "Only think of that heaven of glory and love 
 Which to penitent sinners is promised above, 
 And try, like the joyful young bird, to arise, 
 On the pure wings of faith, to your home in the skies." 
 
(H]c Vine anb the $mtncbcs. 
 
 bo 
 
(l I am the vine, ye are the branches. He thai abideth in me, and 
 I in him, the same bring eth forth much fruit ; for without me ye can 
 do nothing. If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a 
 branch, and is withered; and men gather them, and cast them 
 into the fire, and they are burned. If ye abide in me, and my 
 words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye ivill, and it shall be done 
 unto you. Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much /ruit ; 
 so shall ye be my disciples" — John xv. 5-8. 
 
 56 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 the vim: and the branches. 
 
 rpiIE vine is among the most beautiful of 
 
 
 all the beautiful things that God has 
 
 r* 
 
 caused to grow upon the earth. Sometimes 
 you Bee it in the woods climbing the trees, 
 and reaching from branch to branch, until 
 it forms a thick canopy of leaves overhead, 
 and you can sit beneath it and read or play, 
 protected from the hot rays of the sun. 
 Then what luscious fruit it bears! — pleasant 
 to the eye and delicious to the taste. 
 
 The first that we hear of the vine in the 
 Bible is in connection with Noah. It is 
 probable that he planted a vineyard after 
 he left the ark, and then he expressed the 
 juice from the grapes, and allowed it to 
 d until it fermented and became strong 
 drink, and made him drunk. Had Xoah 
 
 :: 
 
58 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 only eaten the grapes he would have re- 
 mained sober, as every one should. Drunk- 
 enness is a very great as well as a very need- 
 less sin. You will not commit it unless you 
 choose. You can guard against it just as 
 easily as not. How beautiful the clear, 
 bright water looks, trickling down the moun- 
 tain and over the rocks on a warm summer's 
 day ! And when you are thirsty, how refresh- 
 ing it is to quench your thirst with the cool 
 drops that seem to laugh as they leap over 
 the stones, and to say, as they run among 
 the mosses and the pebbles, to every boy and 
 every girl who stoops to catch them as they 
 go, " Drink, drink ! there's no intoxication 
 here ; there's nothing but strength, nothing 
 but beauty, nothing but joy, in the bright, 
 pure water." Somebody has written, and 
 many children have sung: 
 
 "Touch not the wine, though brightly it shine, 
 When nature to man has given 
 A gift so sweet, his wants to meet, 
 
 As the showers that drop from heaven. 
 
THE VIM-: AM) THE BRANCHES. 59 
 
 "Then drink your till of the grateful rill, 
 Touch not the cup of sorrow ; 
 Though it Bhine to-night in its gleaming light, 
 'Twill sting thee on the morrow.'' 
 
 It was from the valley of Eshcol, in 
 Judea, that the spies whom Moses sent 
 brought a cluster of grapes so large that 
 it was carried on a \io\e which rested upon 
 the men's shoulders. Vineyards, we are 
 told, abound there more than in any other 
 part of Palestine. You may see them also 
 in Germany and France and Italy, where 
 many persons are employed in trimming 
 and training the vines and gathering the 
 fruit. They seem to flourish best upon the 
 hill-slopes, and these are often arranged in 
 ter races or steps, each supported by a stone 
 wall, to which the vines cling, and along 
 which they grow. 
 
 This graceful plant, with its rich, abound- 
 ing fruit, deserves to be studied, not only for 
 its own sake, but also because we may learn 
 much from it that we should be most con- 
 
GO AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 cerned to know, just as we may learn, and I 
 trust have learned, from the flowers and the 
 birds. 
 
 One thing we learn from it is the care 
 which God takes of his own people, of those 
 who love him, among whom we may count 
 many of the young, and the very young, I 
 am glad to know. Those whom God loves 
 are the Church, and he calls the Church a 
 vine of his own planting, which he causes 
 to grow and flourish, and he also calls it a 
 vineyard fenced in by his own power. 
 
 Jesus says, "I am the vine; ye are the 
 branches." And now, leaving everything 
 else, we will endeavor to find out what these 
 words mean. 
 
 To whom were these words spoken ? They 
 were spoken to the disciples of Christ — that 
 is, to his scholars, for the word " disciples " 
 means " scholars," and yon remember that 
 Christ was a teacher sent from God. He 
 can teach us what no one else can. He is 
 the only one who can tell us what we must 
 
THE VINE AND Till-: BRANCHES. 61 
 
 do to be saved. He is the only one who can 
 tell ns how to get rid of our wicked thoughts, 
 and how to love and do what is right. If 
 von are willing to learn of him, if von are 
 willing to be a scholar in the school of Christ, 
 lie says to yon, " I am the vine," and he calls 
 you the branches. 
 
 In these words, "I am the vine; ye are 
 the branches," Christ speaks of two things: 
 he speaks of the privilege and the duty of 
 those who are united to him. 
 
 AVhat is meant by privilege ? And what 
 is meant by duty ? 
 
 I will try to answer these questions in such 
 a way as to make them very plain. 
 
 If we were at this moment standing along- 
 side of a vine laden with grapes, I think I 
 could easily make you understand what 
 " privilege " and " duty " are. First I would 
 point you to the branch, and tell you to 
 notice how it is united to the vine, so that 
 it receives from the vine all the sap that 
 enables it to live and produce leaves and 
 

 62 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 fruit, and that union I would call privilege. 
 Then I would point to the leaves and fruit 
 as the result of the union, and would call 
 them duty. 
 
 It is a privilege to be united to Christ — it 
 is a great honor, the greatest honor we can 
 have. Sometimes you are at the head of 
 your class in school, because in your studies 
 you have done better than all the rest ; but 
 that honor, great as it is, is not to be com- 
 pared with the honor of being united to 
 Christ. 
 
 Now the question comes, What is meant 
 by being united to Christ ? 
 
 To be united to Christ is to be like him 
 in your desires, in your tempers ; it is to 
 have the same nature, just as the branch 
 has the nature of the vine ; it is to be joined 
 to him by faith, believing in him and cling- 
 ing to him. 
 
 That the branch has the nature of the vine 
 can easily be proved. If you take a scion 
 from an apple tree and graft it upon a 
 
THE VISE AND THE BRANCHES. 63 
 
 quince tree, it will not bear quinces, but 
 apples. Though the root of the quince fur- 
 nishes the sap that makes the scion grow, 
 the scion remains true to itself, true to its 
 own nature : it will be only what God made it. 
 
 So you may put the Christian anywhere, 
 and he will be a Christian still. When he 
 
 surrounded by temptations, he will show 
 that he is united to Christ by resisting them 
 all, and the purity of his heart and life will 
 only shine the brighter because he is tempted. 
 
 Every one is tempted more or less. In a 
 world like this, where there are so many who 
 do not love God, and where our own hearts 
 are not what they ous;ht to be, it cannot be 
 otherwise. Even Christ, you remember, was 
 tempted. But then he answered the tempter 
 in words that drove him away. So will you, 
 if you are united to Christ as the branch is 
 united to the vine. That is the reason why 
 I would trust any boy or girl who loves the 
 iour, in any company into which lie may 
 1m- hrought. 
 
64 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Of course you will not associate of your 
 own accord with those who hate God, be- 
 cause that would be rushing into temptation, 
 which would be very wrong. But in school 
 and elsewhere you are continually meeting 
 those who are ill-natured and quarrelsome 
 and speak wicked words, and God permits 
 all this that you may show in better tem- 
 pers and in mild and loving words what is 
 meant by being branches of the true vine. 
 That is a part of your work in the world. 
 That is the fruit you are to bear. You are 
 always to show in your actions and words 
 that you love the Saviour. That you will 
 do, I am sure, if you love him. You will 
 not be able to do anything else. It will be 
 just as natural for you as it is for the vine- 
 branches to bear grapes. The wicked will 
 not prevail upon you to do wrong ; they will 
 only make you more firm in doing right. 
 
 Sometimes, you know, when a bud or 
 cutting is separated from the tree that pro- 
 duced it, and united to another that dwarfs 
 
THE VISE AND THE BRANCHES. 65 
 
 the branches and keeps them very low and 
 Bhort, it bears even larger and finer fruit 
 than it would have borne if it had remained 
 on the parent tree, and in the fine, luscious 
 pears or apples that grow out of it it seems 
 to say, " You cannot make me so little as to 
 prevent me from showing what I am." 
 
 It will be with you as with the dwarfed 
 tree, and as with the boy of whom Charlotte 
 Elizabeth tells us. This boy's name was 
 Jack, and he could neither hear nor speak : 
 he was deaf and dumb. But Jack had a 
 bright mind that grew brighter every day, 
 and he had the Holy Spirit in his heart. 
 
 In the Sunday-school established by the 
 
 lady whose name I have mentioned, and 
 
 which was composed of thirty-two robust, 
 
 boisterous fellows from nine to seventeen 
 
 Id, Jack was made a sort of monitor. 
 
 ted in a large chair, Jack kept strict 
 
 •h over the party, and when he noticed 
 
 wrong conduct, he expressed the punish- 
 
 \i he thought it deserved by pulling his 
 
 5 
 
66 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 own ear, or striking his own face, with a 
 knowing nod at the offender. But if he saw 
 an approach to levity over the word of God, 
 his manner wholly changed. Tears filled 
 his eyes, he looked all grief and entreaty, 
 and the words, " God sees," were earnestly 
 spelled on his uplifted hands. No one could 
 stand the appeal, and very rarely had he 
 occasion to make it. I do not think the 
 fruits of piety in Jack's life would have 
 appeared half as large and beautiful if he 
 had not been surrounded by these thought- 
 less companions. 
 
 You understand now what I mean when 
 I say that being united to Christ is having 
 the same nature — is being and doing just 
 what Christ would be and do if he were on 
 the earth now. If you have the nature of 
 Christ, you will love God and love the 
 truth ; you will obey your parents, and be 
 kind to one another, and do all the good you 
 can. 
 
 I do not mean that you must never laugh 
 
THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES. 67 
 
 or play, because you can Jo both and vet 
 be united to Christ There are times when 
 it would be very wrong to laugh or play. 
 It is wrong to play on the Sabbath as we 
 
 are allowed to play on weekdays. And it is 
 wrong to laugh at sin. But it is not wrong- 
 to be happy in loving God, and the more 
 you love God, the more closely will you be 
 united to Christ, and the happier will you 
 be, and laughter flows out of happiness just 
 as naturally as the juice flows out of the 
 grapes. 
 
 There are some people who think that 
 Jesus never smiled during his whole earthly 
 life. But I am not one of the people who 
 think so, for then he would not have been 
 in all things like unto us, only without sin. 
 He had more reason to smile without sin 
 than we have with sin. I do not believe 
 that when he went with his mother to the 
 wedding in Capernaum he looked very sad, 
 and made others feel so. Xor do I think 
 that in those loving talks he bo often had 
 
68 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 with his dear friends in Bethany he seemed 
 always overwhelmed with sorrow. You re- 
 member he said once, "When ye fast, be 
 not as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance." 
 The more you resemble the Saviour, the 
 more cheerful will you have reason to be. 
 If you are not like Christ, then you have no 
 reason to be cheerful. I confess that I do 
 not like to see wicked boys and girls laugh, 
 because it looks as if they were trying to be 
 happy without loving God. 
 
 There is still another thing I w r ant to say 
 here. If you are united to Christ as the 
 branch is united to the vine, then I hope 
 you will always remain little children, even 
 when you become men and women, in a 
 cheerful freedom from all care. Some think 
 it a great misfortune that old heads cannot 
 be put upon young shoulders, but I think 
 it a great misfortune that heads or hearts 
 ever become old, in the sense of being care- 
 ful and troubled about things that ought not 
 to trouble us. 
 
THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES. 69 
 
 Again, we become like Christ by faith'. 
 
 You must believe in him or you cannot 
 resemble him. You must believe in him 
 afl your Saviour — must believe that he died 
 for you, and that he alone, by his Spirit, can 
 make you happy and useful. Faith is the 
 tie that binds us to Christ, very much as it 
 binds you to your father and mother, and 
 to the friends you love most. You love 
 them becaust you believe in them — because 
 you can trust them in all things, and feel in 
 your heart that they are ready to make every 
 ncrifice they can make for your good. And 
 your faith is strong just in proportion to 
 your dependence upon them. If, for ex- 
 ample, you were walking out in a very dark 
 night where you would be afraid to walk 
 alone, and your father had your hand in 
 his, your faith would be stronger than if the 
 sun were shining brightly and you could 
 see to walk alone. 
 
 Now, your faith in Christ depends upon 
 your feeling that you cannot walk through 
 
70 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 this world of sin and temptation without 
 his guidance — that if he does not lead you, 
 you will fall into sin at every step — that if 
 he had not suffered and died for you, there 
 would be no forgiveness. When you be- 
 lieve in Christ you cling to him, just as you 
 cling to your mother in the hour of sick- 
 ness, or just as the branch clings to the 
 vine. The branch, you know, is nothing 
 without the vine ; it cannot live without 
 the vine ; and therefore it holds on to 
 the vine so firmly. When the wind blows, 
 and the storm scatters the leaves, the 
 branch still clings to the vine, even when 
 all the leaves have been torn away and lie 
 withered on the ground. So, if you believe 
 in Christ, you will hold on to him, though 
 you may have to part with everything 
 else. 
 
 Let me tell you here a story about an- 
 other Jack, whose experience shows very 
 truthfully what faith in Christ is. This 
 Jack was a poor fellow who lived in an 
 
THE VISE AM> THE BRANCH} 71 
 
 English village, and earned his daily bread 
 by Belling a few pins and needles, and sneh 
 like. He had not wit enough to do much 
 than be always drunk, which requires 
 no wit at all. In going along the street one 
 day he heard a poor woman singing these 
 very simple words : 
 
 '•I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all. 
 But Jesus Christ is my all in all." 
 
 Jack thought that was a pleasant little 
 rhyme, and so he began to say it to himself, 
 and it pleased God to impress it not only on 
 his memory, but on his conscience, so that 
 he became a changed man. He gave up his 
 .-wearing and his drunkenness, and every 
 one could see that there was something going 
 on in his heart different from what he had 
 ever felt before. At length he thought 
 Jesus had chosen him to be a disciple, and 
 lie came to the minister and asked whether 
 lie could be received into the Church. 
 "Friend John, what is your experience?" 
 
72 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 asked the minister. " I haven't any, sir/' 
 was the answer. " All I know is, that 
 
 'I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all, 
 And Jesus Christ is my all in all.' " 
 
 Then an old deacon said to him, " Friend 
 John, this is not enough. Come, now, don't 
 you ever have any doubts and fears?" 
 " No," said John, " I cannot doubt that 
 
 'I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all,' 
 
 for I know that I am ; and I dare not doubt 
 that 
 
 'Jesus Christ is my all in all/ 
 
 because he has said it, and it would be wrong 
 to doubt what he says." " But there are 
 times," continued the deacon, " when my 
 evidences are very bright, and I feel that I 
 am getting rich in grace, and at other times 
 I lose my evidences, and feel that I have 
 gone back in the divine life." "I cannot 
 go back, sir," said John, " and I cannot lose 
 anything, for 
 
 ' I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all,' 
 
 and no one can take anything from me, for 
 
THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES. 73 
 'Jesofl Christ ia my all in all,' 
 
 and so I am never richer and never poorer." 
 Afterward this poor man was noted for 
 l^ing one of the happiest Christians in the 
 Church, and as long as lie lived his song was — 
 
 " I'm a poor sinner, and nothing at all, 
 And Jesus Christ is my all in all." 
 
 So if you are united to Christ, you will 
 think evervthimr of him and nothing of 
 yourself. This is faith. 
 
 But, then, this faith will enable you to do 
 more than sing, and more than feel your 
 own weakness. It will enable you to obey 
 Christ very promptly, just as the branch 
 may be said to obey the vine in bearing the 
 .-;.]> it furnishes to the remotest twig and leaf. 
 You will stand and listen eagerly to the voice 
 of the Saviour, as the prophet Samuel, when 
 he was a child, listened to the Lord. At 
 first he did not know who it was that spoke 
 to him, but as soon as he knew it was the 
 ried out, "Speak, Lord, for thy 
 ;int heareth." I have sometimes seen 
 
 
74 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 children run as if they could not go fast 
 enough when they were told to do this thing 
 or the other. Then I have seen them hesi- 
 tate and feel reluctant, as if they wanted to 
 have their own way. If you really believe 
 in Christ, if you believe that he tells the 
 truth in every word he utters, and that he 
 asks you to do only what is right and what 
 is best for yourself, you will run in the way 
 of his commandments. This you will do, 
 because Christ is everything to you, your 
 best friend, your dear Redeemer, your all 
 in all. 
 
 Have you ever heard the story about the 
 switch-tender's boy ? A switch-tender in 
 Prussia was just going to move the rail, in 
 order to put a coming train of cars on a side 
 track, when he caught sight of his little son 
 playing on the track. The engine was in 
 sight, and he had not a moment to spare. 
 He might jump and save his child, but he 
 could not do that and turn the switch in 
 time, and if the switch were not turned, 
 
The Switch Tender's Boy. 
 
 Page 75. 
 
THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES. 75 
 
 the oncoming train would meet another train 
 and a terrible crash take place. The safety 
 of hundreds of lives depended upon his 
 fidelity. What could he do? What did 
 he do? " Lie down! lie down I" he called, 
 with a loud, quick voice, to the child, and 
 seizing the switch, the train passed safely on 
 ite proper track. 
 
 Did the heavy train run over the little 
 boy ? Was he killed ? "Was he crushed to 
 pieces ? 
 
 Xo, for he did just what his father told 
 him, and did it instantly. He fell flat be- 
 tween the rails, and the cars went high over 
 his head, and when the anxious father 
 .-prang to the spot, there he was alive and 
 well : not a hair was touched. It was his 
 quick obedience, you see, that saved his life. 
 He did not stop a minute. Even a mo- 
 ment's hesitation would have been death to 
 him. 
 
 That hoy believed in his father. 
 
 Oh how happy it would make me, how 
 
76 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 far happier it would make yourselves, if you 
 all thus believed in Christ ! Some of you 
 do believe. And some of you, it may be, 
 are afraid you are too small to believe. 
 But then you must remember that the vine 
 has little branches as well as large ones. 
 And, indeed, in grafting, it would be much 
 more difficult to make the rough old twigs 
 grow than the young and tender ones. I 
 am very certain that there is reason to have 
 strong hope of the young twigs that are 
 grafted upon Christ. You understand what 
 I mean ? I mean that all the children who 
 read these words may become Christians 
 now, and that the longer they wait the hard- 
 er it will be for them. I mean that they 
 will grow into Christ more easily now — will 
 become more easily like him than after they 
 are hardened in sin. 
 
 But you still say you are not strong, and 
 ask, "If older people think they cannot bear 
 the burden Christ would put upon them, 
 how can I ?" 
 
THE VINE AM) THE BRANCHES. 77 
 
 All I have to say to this is, Christ will 
 hear you, and your burden too, if you will 
 let him. He always docs, just as the vine 
 hears the burdens that hang upon the 
 branches. When you look at a vine, do 
 you think the branches carry the grapes? 
 If you do, you are mistaken. That is, they 
 do not carry them by means of their own 
 strength. They receive all their strength 
 from the vine, and they receive just as much 
 as they need. If a branch has ten bunches 
 of grapes, the vine enables it to carry ten ; 
 and if another branch receives only strength 
 enough to carry one bunch, the vine puts 
 only one upon it. So Jesus says to you, 
 "Afl thy days so shall thy strength be" — that 
 18, you shall have as much strength every 
 day as you need. If you meet one tempta- 
 tion, you shall have strength enough to over- 
 
 ae one, and if you meet ten, you shall 
 
 have strength enough to overcome ten, just 
 
 you live. Many people do not 
 
 believe that, and therefore they will not trust 
 
78 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 the Saviour, but I want you to believe it and 
 to act upon it. 
 
 There was a little boy in a Christian 
 family near Amoy, China, the youngest of 
 three children, who asked his father to 
 allow him to unite with the church. But 
 he was told that he was too young, that he 
 might fall back if he professed his love for 
 the Saviour when he was such a little boy. 
 What do you suppose the boy said to this ? 
 Why, he made the touching reply : 
 
 "Jesus has promised to carry the lambs 
 in his arms, and as I am only a little boy, it 
 will be easier for Jesus to carry me." 
 
 What a strong faith he had ! It was a 
 faith that moved the heart of his father. 
 And now the whole family of which this 
 child is the youngest member, the father, 
 mother and three sons, all belong to the 
 mission church at Amoy. 
 
 Jesus, I say again, will bear you and your 
 burdens if you will only let him. 
 
 The other day I saw the young branches 
 
THE VINE AXD THE BRANCHES. 79 
 
 of a vigorous vine full of delicate blossoms, 
 and they were very, very beautiful, and 
 these blossoms were the beginnings of the 
 grapes that are to come ; but they did not 
 owe their beauty to the coming grapes, they 
 were beautiful in themselves, and they will 
 continue beautiful as they change from blos- 
 soms into fruit, and as the fruit grows larger 
 and larger into finished, transparent ripeness. 
 Then these blossoms were all hung on short, 
 slender, graceful stems which will grow longer 
 and stouter until they are able to hold the 
 ripened fruit. So right beginnings, though 
 they may be very small, are quite as beauti- 
 ful and quite as important as right endings, 
 though they may be very large. 
 
 Jesus loves to see the blossoms of faith in 
 the hearts of children. As the true vine, he 
 loves the tender branches. He loves to have 
 the children serve him. Oh how tenderly 
 h«- treated them when he w T as on the earth ! — 
 even took them in his arms and blessed them. 
 You sometimes sing : 
 
80 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 " I wish that his hands had been placed on my head, 
 That his arm had been thrown around me, 
 And that I might have seen his kind face when he said, 
 Let the little ones come unto me." 
 
 But if you mean all this, you can have his 
 love in your heart, and that is better even 
 than to have his hand on your head. 
 
 You are young now, and think you can 
 do but little, yet you can do all Christ wants 
 you to do. He don't ask you to bear the 
 grapes yet — only the blossoms. But then 
 that is a great deal, for without the blossoms 
 there can be no fruit. 
 
 " Ah ! won't you come to Jesus while you're young 
 
 ?" 
 
 — -so that he may say of you even now, this 
 very hour, this very moment, "I am the 
 vine, ye are the branches." 
 
ajotu to |uiHr. 
 
 SI 
 
" Which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, 
 and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it f"-— 
 Luke xiv. 28. 
 
 82 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HOW TO BUILD. 
 
 | SUPPOSE you all know what a tower is. 
 
 Very many years ago, not long after the 
 flood, the attempt was made to build one, 
 but that attempt failed altogether, for God 
 himself interfered, and so confounded the 
 language of the workmen that they could 
 not understand one another, and were com- 
 joelled to leave the work unfinished. 
 
 The tower alluded to by our Saviour was 
 probably a fine, large mansion with a tower 
 attached to it. But it matters very little 
 what it was, for Jesus is not talking so much 
 about the building as about the cost. He 
 wants to say to us all, that before we begin 
 to build we should be very sure that we have 
 money enough wherewith to finish. 
 
 Bo] wu had five dollars in your 
 
 83 
 
84 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 pocket, and were to think that you would 
 like to have a house of your own to live in, 
 and were to engage carpenters and masons 
 to build your house, and at the end of the 
 first day should find that you had not money 
 enough to pay the men who were digging 
 the cellar for one day's work, you would 
 feel very foolish of course. Though it might 
 not be very kind or friendly, every one 
 would be sure to laugh at you. 
 
 Each one of you is continually building : 
 if not a tower or a house, then you are build- 
 ing something else. The other day I saw 
 two boys fighting. They were building a 
 very bad temper — one that would be sure to 
 let in the storm. And then I saw a little 
 girl carry a piece of money to a poor old 
 man who hadn't clothes enough on to keep 
 him warm, for it was a very cold day, and she 
 was building a kind disposition that would 
 always be full of sunshine. 
 
 Now, in building, we are always to count 
 the cost, not only as to whether we have 
 
HOW TO BUILD. 85 
 
 enough to finish with, but whether the work 
 will be worth anything when it is finished. 
 There are some things that cost too much 
 and do not pay. 
 
 If you are selfish and do not care to make 
 others happy, if you always eat your cake 
 in a corner for fear a brother or a sister 
 might look at it longingly, if you want the 
 of everything, you are paying entirely 
 much for what you get. You are pay- 
 ing all the pleasure it would bring to see 
 others smile upon you and have others love 
 you. 
 
 A farmer once brought home five peaches 
 from the city, the finest that were to be 
 found. This was the first time his children 
 had seen any fruit of the kind. So they ad- 
 mired and greatly rejoiced over what they 
 called the beautiful apples with red cheeks. 
 The farmer gave one to each of his four sons, 
 and the fifth to their mother. And when 
 me, just ;.- the children were 
 it to retire to Bleep, this kind father in- 
 
86 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 quired, "Well, boys, how did the apples 
 taste?" 
 
 "Mine was excellent, dear father," said 
 the eldest. " I have carefully preserved the 
 seed, and intend to raise a tree for myself." 
 
 " Bravo I" said his father. " It is good 
 husbandry to provide for the future, and 
 just what a farmer ought to do." 
 
 "I ate mine," said the youngest, "and 
 threw away the stone, and mother gave me 
 half of hers. Oh, that tasted very sweet, 
 and melted in my mouth." 
 
 " You," said the father, " have acted in a 
 natural and child-like manner, but not very 
 prudently. There is still room in your life 
 for a great deal of wisdom." 
 
 Then the second said, " I picked up the 
 stone that brother threw away, and cracked 
 it open. It contained a kernel that tasted 
 as sweet as a nut. But 1 sold my peach for 
 money enough to buy twelve when I go to 
 the city." 
 
 His father patted him on the head, saying, 
 
HOW TO BUILD. 87 
 
 "That was indeed prudent, but it was by no 
 means a natural act for a child. May heaven 
 preserve you from being a merchant !" 
 
 ''And you, Edmund?" inquired the 
 father ; " what have you done with your 
 peach?" 
 
 Edmund replied modestly, but ingenu- 
 ously, " I carried mine to George, who is 
 sick with a fever. He refused to take it, 
 and then I laid it on the bed and came 
 away." 
 
 " AYell," said the father, " who has made 
 the best use of his peach ?" All exclaimed, 
 " Brother Edmund." 
 
 Edmund was silent, and his mother 
 fondly embraced him, with a tear in her 
 eye. 
 
 He was the wisest builder, was he not? 
 because he was so unselfish. 
 
 Those who are dishonest should also count 
 the cost, for that, too, is a kind of building 
 that will not pay. Many begin to build in 
 this way who are not able to finish. Thus 
 

 88 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 it is with the boy who ventures to take what 
 does not belong to him ; it may be only some 
 of the cake or pie which his mother has put 
 carefully away for all to share at meal-time, 
 and which he knows it is wrong for him to 
 touch. You all remember the two lines : 
 
 " It is a sin to steal a pin, 
 Much more to take a greater thing " — 
 
 lines which every one should think of very 
 often, as well as commit to memory, because 
 they contain a great deal of truth. It is very 
 wrong to take what belongs to another, no 
 matter how little value it may possess ; and 
 then the one sin is almost sure to lead to 
 another, and that to another still, and thus 
 the sins are piled up just as you pile up 
 stones in a building— stones that are crumb- 
 ling to pieces almost as fast as you lay them, 
 so that the building really makes no pro- 
 gress, so that it requires a continual outlay, 
 and affords no shelter in the end. 
 
 There are various kinds of dishonesty, you 
 
HOW TO BUILD. 89 
 
 know. A lie told in order to gain some 
 supposed advantage is an aet of dishonesty. 
 If a boy in selling his marbles, or a man in 
 selling dry goods or other things, says they 
 cost him more than they did, it is the same 
 as stealing, because the purchaser is made to 
 believe that he is getting more for his money 
 than he really is. All that is obtained from 
 him by misrepresentation is obtained with- 
 out his consent — just as much so as if you 
 were to put your hand into his pocket and 
 take that amount without his knowing it. 
 
 When Mr. Lawrence of Boston, who be- 
 came a very rich man, first went into busi- 
 m — — which was in a very small way, and 
 with money borrowed for the purpose — he 
 lved that he would always tell the truth 
 in regard to every transaction, would never 
 say that his goods cost more than they really 
 did, would never say that they were better 
 than they really were, would never cheat or 
 deceive in any manner, but deal fairly and 
 honestly at all times and with everybody. 
 

 90 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 The result was that people soon found this 
 out, and knew that it was very much to their 
 advantage to go to this man's store, because 
 they would always be sure to get the full 
 worth of their money; one told another, 
 and in this way the business increased, and 
 became very large and profitable — just be- 
 cause those who conducted it always told the 
 truth. In this case it was clearly shown 
 that honesty is the best policy — best for 
 those who practice it as well as for those 
 toward whom it is practiced. But then you 
 are never to be honest because it is the best 
 policy, only because it is the most profitable 
 to yourself. If that is your only motive, it 
 might happen at some time that you would 
 think it the best policy to be dishonest, and 
 then you would let your honesty go. You 
 must be honest because it is right, because 
 it is what God would have you to be. You 
 must tell the truth because you love the 
 truth, though some might try to persuade 
 you that it would be more to your advantage 
 
HOW TO BUILD. 91 
 
 to tell a lie. Whether it is for your advan- 
 tage or not, do what is right. 
 
 While I am talking about the importance 
 of vour being always honest and truthful, I 
 want to warn you against the folly of deceiv- 
 ing yourself. This is often done, as when a 
 boy persuades himself that he is doing right 
 when he is doing wrong, or that he may 
 commit a little sin which will not injure 
 any one else very much without any injury 
 to himself, or that if he injures no one but 
 himself in what he does it is no sin at all. 
 But though in stealing a penny from a rich 
 man you would not really hurt him, and he 
 might never know it, and would certainly 
 never feel it, you would be breaking God's 
 holy law, and would commit a wrong against 
 your own soul. I have known boys at 
 school who were lazy, and did not love 
 study, to think that they were only cheating 
 the teacher, when indeed they were cheating 
 themselves far more than him. Perhaps 
 yon hare seen such boys at recitation bIvIv 
 
92 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 peeping in the book and reading the lesson 
 which they ought to have committed to 
 memory, or jogging the boy next to them 
 for the answers which they ought to have 
 acquired by their own study. The boy who 
 does that thing will probably grow into a 
 blockhead and a dunce, and learn too ]ate 
 that, with all his management, he has only 
 managed to keep knowledge from his own 
 brain. That is a very expensive kind of 
 building — so expensive that no one can afford 
 it ; it costs a great deal of ingenuity, a great 
 deal of low cunning, a great deal of mean- 
 ness, and when it is finished everybody sees 
 that it was built with a fool's money, and 
 that nobody but a fool can live in it. 
 
 I do not suppose that any one of my 
 readers has ever been guilty of such an 
 absurd kind of cheating, but then I can im- 
 agine that they have been asked more than 
 once to help others deceive their teachers 
 and cheat themselves. If vou have ever 
 done this, never do it again. The greatest 
 
HOW TO BUILD. 93 
 
 kindness you can show to any boys or girls 
 who are indolent, and wish you to help them 
 hide it, is to let them know at once that you 
 have no help for those who will not help 
 themselves. They will call you mean, but 
 no matter: snow would be just as white 
 though all the people in the world were to 
 call it black. All the right-minded would 
 call you magnanimous, truly great and 
 truly kind. All the advantage gained by 
 deception of any sort costs more than it is 
 worth. 
 
 " Do you want to buy any berries to-day ?" 
 said a little boy to a lady, who stood at her 
 door one afternoon. 
 
 She looked at the little fellow and saw 
 that he was poorly dressed. In his hand 
 was a large basket full of ripe raspberries. 
 The lady told him she would like some, and 
 taking the basket from him, stepped into the 
 house. When she saw that he did not follow 
 her, she said : " Why don't you come in and 
 see if I measure your berries rightly ? How 
 

 91 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 do you know but I may cheat you and take 
 more than I agreed for ?" 
 
 The boy looked up at her and smiled. 
 " I am not afraid/' said he, " for you would 
 get the worst of it, ma'am." 
 
 " Get the worst of it I" said the lady ; 
 " what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Why, ma'am, I should only lose my ber- 
 ries, but you would be stealing. Don't you 
 think that would be the worst for you ?" 
 
 Dishonesty, untruthfulness, will not pay. 
 Do not begin to build with such materials 
 as these ; they are very expensive, and are 
 rotten and crumbling at best. The other 
 day I saw workmen laying a wooden pave- 
 ment, and one of the things I noticed was 
 this : There was one man who examined 
 every block to see whether it was sound. 
 When he found a block partly decayed he 
 chopped off the decayed portion with a 
 hatchet he held in his right hand, and when 
 he found one much decayed he flung it 
 away. Why did he do this? Because it 
 
HOW TO BUILD. 95 
 
 was less expensive to make the pavement 
 right at first than to repair it afterward. 
 Keep all rotten timber out of the house you 
 are building. You will find it harder work 
 to take it out and put better in its place than 
 to use that which is sound at first. Be sure 
 not to tell the first lie — not to do the first 
 wrong thing — for this is like using rotten 
 timber, and will be worse for yourself than 
 for any one else. A lie once told, a wicked 
 deed once committed, will cling to you, will 
 leave ugly marks upon your memory and 
 conscience, even if you are sorry that you 
 told the lie and committed the deed. They 
 cannot be wiped out entirely, do what you 
 will. 
 
 A virtuous queen of the East had a wild 
 and dissolute son over whom she often wept, 
 and with whom she often expostulated. He 
 said that his vicious inclinations were too 
 strong for his judgment and decision of 
 character to overcome. The fond mother 
 requested him to drive up a nail in his room 
 
96 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 every time he yielded to depraved inclina- 
 tion, and thus committed a fault which his 
 judgment and conscience condemned, and 
 to draw out a nail as often as he conquered 
 his inclination when tempted to sin. He 
 complied with her request, and commenced 
 driving a nail whenever he detected him- 
 self in a fault. The nails went in so rapidly 
 that he became alarmed at his own wicked- 
 ness and firmly resolved on a reformation. 
 So strong was his resolution that the nails 
 were drawn out one after another in quick 
 succession until finally they all disappeared. 
 Elated by the success of his effort, he in- 
 vited his mother into his room, and in a 
 triumphant tone called on her to witness 
 the evidence of his reformation. To put a 
 damper on his self-confident spirit, and to 
 lead him to guard against future temptation, 
 his mother said to him, "My son, though 
 the nails are all drawn, yet remember that 
 the prints of them are still there." 
 
 Now, if you were to ask me, " How shall I 
 
HOW TO BUILD. 97 
 
 build, and with what materials?" I might 
 answer in these few words : Always try to 
 do right. But that means a great deal. It 
 means, Try to do everything you can to 
 please God, and to make those around you 
 happy. I am not sure you will always do 
 this. I am quite sure you will not. But the 
 trying is what God expects of every one of 
 us. 
 
 After having said thus much about what 
 you are not to do and what you are to try 
 to do, I must say a few words about what 
 you cannot do. You may build wrongly, as 
 I have told you, by doing wrong, and you 
 may build wisely by doing right, but you 
 cannot lay the foundation of right character. 
 It is a fortunate circumstance for us that 
 God has already furnished the foundation. 
 That foundation is Jesus Christ. You are 
 not to endeavor to lay a foundation of your 
 own, but you are to build upon him. And 
 by this I mean that when you find yourself 
 tempted to sin you must go to him for 
 
98 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 strength, and when you find that you have 
 sinned you are to go to him for pardon. 
 You are to ask the Saviour for all that you 
 need to enable you to build aright, to enable 
 you to cultivate right tempers and do right 
 deeds. 
 
 A little girl six years old was one evening 
 gently reproved by her pious mother for 
 some of her faults during the day. She 
 seemed very sorry, and shortly afterward, 
 when she was alone, some one passed by, 
 and heard her talking, but in too low a tone 
 for any one to understand what she said. 
 
 The next evening, after repeating her 
 usual prayer at her mother's knee, the little 
 girl asked earnestly, " Have I behaved better 
 to-day?" Her mother answered that she 
 was much pleased with the day's improve- 
 ment, and hoped that her little daughter 
 would always behave as well. " Then," re- 
 plied the child, " I must go and talk with 
 God again. I told him yesterday that I 
 wanted to be good, and begged him to help 
 
HOW TO BUILD. 99 
 
 me, and he has helped me all day long, so 
 that I could not be naughty even when I 
 felt it in me." 
 
 Yes, dear children, the evil is in us all 
 the time, and it is only by God's grace we 
 can subdue it. Go and talk to him about it, 
 and he will help you to avoid every evil way. 
 
 This is one of the results of building upon 
 Christ : he gives you strength in the hour 
 of temptation. 
 
 But then you might have a great deal of 
 fear when you find you are not building 
 right — when you fall into sin — as you often 
 do. If you build upon Christ, he takes 
 away this fear, because he has died for you, 
 and your sin is forgiven for his sake. 
 
 One day as a little boy was crossing a 
 dam his foot slipped, and he fell into one 
 of its deepest parts. His companion ran at 
 once to the nearest house for assistance, but 
 when aid reached the drowning boy hardly 
 a ripple moved the surface of the water to 
 show where he went down. A strong arm, 
 
100 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 however, soon brought him to the surface. 
 But oh how changed from the merry boy 
 of a few moments before ! Would life ever 
 return? After some time of deep anxiety, 
 with what delight did his friends hail the 
 first sign of returning consciousness! 
 
 When he became able to speak, he said, 
 " I thought I should die, but I was not afraid." 
 He was asked, " Why not ?" The reply was, 
 " I love Jesus." Thus this boy, only eight 
 years old, had a faith in the Saviour that 
 enabled him to say, " I was not afraid to die." 
 
 Do you know now what it is to build 
 upon Christ? I believe some of you do 
 from your own experience, and I hope 
 others will be led thus to build. When you 
 thus build you have a tower indeed, and 
 this it is : Christ the foundation, good 
 honest work for the Saviour the building 
 itself, and all the kind and gentle tempers 
 the ornaments that make it beautiful. The 
 way to count the cost is to love the Saviour, 
 for then you will be sure to obey him. 
 
[« i\t fis^t. 
 
 101 
 
" I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk 
 in darkness" — John viii. 12. 
 102 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 IN THE LIGHT. 
 
 \TOU all know the difference between light 
 and darkness. When the sun shines we see 
 the trees and the flowers and the faces of our 
 friends, and many things that make us glad 
 and happy, and when the darkness comes 
 all these disappear. It is the light that 
 makes the grass look green, and imparts to 
 the flowers the colors by which they are dis- 
 tinguished from each other. It is the light 
 that gives such varied tints to the feathers 
 of the birds, so that some are red, others 
 gray, others black and others like silver or 
 gold. It is light that makes the emerald 
 green and the topaz yellow. When the 
 sun's rays enter the rain-drops during a 
 shower they are as white as the driven snow, 
 but they come out on the other side dressed 
 
 103 
 
104 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 in a beautiful robe of seven colors, and form 
 the rainbow. And so you may often see the 
 same colors produced in the same manner in 
 drops of dew on the grass, which look like 
 sparkling gems. 
 
 But we cannot speak of light without also 
 speaking of the eye. The one is made for 
 the other. No part of the outside world is 
 bright and beautiful to those who are blind. 
 It is with them just as if you were kept 
 always in a dark room. And the eye is 
 quite as wonderful as the light itself. The 
 eye is a darkened chamber with a window 
 in front, and this window is hung with a 
 beautiful curtain, circular in form, sometimes 
 blue and at other times gray or brown. This 
 curtain is called the iris, which means " the 
 rainbow," a name given to it because it has 
 these various colors. When we say a girl 
 or boy has blue eyes we mean merely that 
 this little round curtain is blue. 
 
 In the middle of this curtain is the pupil, 
 through which the light enters, and when 
 
IN TILE LIGHT. 105 
 
 the sunshine falls upon it very brightly the 
 curtain is drawn, and it becomes smaller and 
 smaller until it is only a little black point. 
 It will not answer to have too much light in 
 the eye, so it is not intended that we should 
 gaze directly at the sun, but only at the pic- 
 tures which the sun paints. 
 
 When we go to sleep we put down the 
 shutters — which are the eyelids, you know — 
 and shut out the light altogether. But the 
 eyelids rise and fall every moment when we 
 are awake, and this we call winking. " An 
 outside window soon gets soiled and dirty, 
 and a careful shopkeeper cleans his windows 
 every morning. But our eye- windows must 
 never have so much as a speck or spot upon 
 them, and the winking eyelid is the busy 
 shop-boy, who, not once a day, but all the 
 day, keeps the living glass clean." 
 
 Then behind the iris is a magnifying- 
 glass through which the light passes, and 
 beyond that the inside surface of the back 
 part of the eye has a black curtain spread 
 
106 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 over it, with a very delicate white one in 
 front. This last-named curtain, which is 
 called the retina, is said to resemble, when 
 seen alone, the cup of a white lily, " and, 
 like it, ends in a stem, named the optic 
 nerve ; the stem in its turn, after passing 
 through the black curtain, is planted in the 
 brain/' and thus it is we can think and talk 
 about the things above and around us. 
 
 In that little darkened chamber, called 
 the eye, the stars, and the mountains, and 
 the rivers, and all the faces we see, are hung 
 up as pictures ; not all the while, for each 
 one, almost as soon as it is formed, passes 
 away and gives place to another. But in 
 the mind and the soul they may be hung 
 up for ever. 
 
 As you grow older you will learn, I hope, 
 more about the light and the eye ; and the 
 more you learn, the more, I trust, will you 
 praise and love Him who made them, and 
 the better will you understand the Saviour 
 when he says, " I am the-light of the world ; 
 
IN THE LIGHT. 107 
 
 he that followeth me shall not walk in dark- 
 ness." 
 
 The Saviour is also called the Sun of 
 Righteousness — the Sun that rises upon the 
 soul, and fills it with gladness, and makes 
 all its tempers what they should be, and as 
 God would have them ; just as the natural 
 sun flings its light upon the earth, and 
 paints the grass and the flowers, and causes 
 them to grow. This knowledge of our duty, 
 these lovely dispositions, these fruit-bearing 
 lives, which Christ alone can give, may be- 
 long to those who have never had the use 
 of their eyes. Without the light that comes 
 from the gospel, however strong and clear- 
 sighted your eyes may be, you are walking 
 in darkness. 
 
 Do you think you could be happy if you 
 could not see the hills, and the streams, and 
 the faces of those you love ? Certainly — far 
 happier than many are who have the most 
 beautiful pictures hung up in their eye- 
 chambers every day. It is better to be 
 
108 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 blind than to hate God and love sin, and 
 if the soul is all lighted up with joy, the 
 sunshine that lights the mountain-tops, and 
 makes the snow glisten, can even be spared 
 without taking away all enjoyment. I do 
 not say that eyes, and the light that falls 
 upon them from all the beautiful things 
 around us, are not great blessings : . I only 
 say that the light which Jesus sheds in the 
 soul is the greatest blessing of all, and that 
 if you have that light you can be happy, 
 whatever else you may not have. 
 
 I have often visited schools where the 
 blind are taught to read, and write, and 
 sing, and have heard them talk and laugh 
 as if they had everything they desired. 
 Some of them, I knew, had the love of 
 Jesus in their souls, and were walking in 
 the light of his countenance, and I felt that 
 they were not to be pitied half as much as 
 those who have bright eyes and wicked 
 hearts. 
 
 There was a blind man once who thought 
 
IN THE LIGHT. 109 
 
 lie had the advantage of those who could 
 see. He was standing with uplifted head 
 in the mild sunbeams of a spring day. The 
 warmth of the sun penetrated his limbs, and 
 its splendor beamed upon his darkened eyes. 
 
 " O thou incomprehensible sea of light !" 
 he was heard to say, " thou wonder of the 
 almighty Hand that formed thee and directs 
 thee in thy glorious path ! How great must 
 He be who created thee !" 
 
 The one who heard him inquired, " How 
 can you thus admire the sun when you do 
 not behold it?" 
 
 " For that very reason," was the answer. 
 " Since my eyes have been darkened, so that 
 I cannot see its brightness, every sensation 
 of its rays causes it to rise within me, and 
 its splendor shines in my soul. But you 
 only behold it, as you see everything else, 
 with the natural eye." 
 
 There are some things that Christ alone 
 can enable us to see. He alone can show 
 us how to obtain the forgiveness of our sins. 
 
110 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 I suppose your faults — those you are liable to 
 commit every day — have often made it appear 
 very dark within and around you ; I am 
 sure they have if your conscience is tender, 
 and if you feel toward God's holy law as 
 you ought to feel. You have been very un- 
 happy when you have thought of the many 
 wrong things you have done. 
 
 " I wish father would come home !" said a 
 boy, in a troubled tone of voice, and with a 
 face that looked very sad. 
 
 At length the door-bell rung, and the boy 
 glided down stairs, but as soon as his father 
 saw him, he said, " You are in trouble, my 
 son. What has happened ?" 
 
 The eyes of the boy filled with tears as he 
 looked into his father's face. He tried to 
 answer, but his lips quivered. Then he 
 turned away, and opening the door of a 
 cabinet, brought out the fragments of a 
 broken statuette which had been sent home 
 only the day before, and set them on the 
 table before his father, over whose counte- 
 
 
IN THE LIGHT. Ill 
 
 nance fell a shadow of regret. " Who did 
 this, my son ?" was asked in an unruffled 
 tone. 
 
 " I did it." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "I threw my ball in there once, only 
 once, in forgetfulness." 
 
 The poor boy's voice was husky and 
 tremulous. It took a little while for the 
 father to control himself and collect his 
 disturbed thoughts, for he was only human, 
 you know. Then he said, cheerfully, " What 
 is done, my boy, cannot be helped. Put the 
 broken pieces away. You have had trouble 
 enough about it, I see, and reproof enough 
 for your thoughtlessness, so I shall not add 
 a word to increase your pain." 
 
 " Oh, father," said the boy as he threw his 
 arms about his father's neck, "you are so 
 kind, so good!" 
 
 That is just the way God leads you into 
 the sunshine whenever you confess your sins 
 to him and ask his forgiveness. When vou 
 
112 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 take the hand of Jesus, and he leads you to 
 his cross, and tells you how he died that you 
 might be saved, you see at once how it is 
 that God is your Father, and you do not 
 wonder that when you go to him in sorrow he 
 smiles upon you, and draws his loving arms 
 closely around you. There would be no 
 light in the dark path of sin if Jesus were 
 not there to guide those who want to leave 
 that path in the way that leads to his 
 Father's throne and love. When the Sa- 
 viour hung on the cross there was dark- 
 ness from the sixth to the ninth hour over 
 all the land, but then the light came, and 
 it has been shining ever since, and is shin- 
 ing now in every heart that can sing: 
 
 " On thee alone my hope relies ; 
 Beneath thy cross I fall, 
 My Lord, my Life, my Sacrifice, 
 My Saviour and my all." 
 
 Then, Christ also gives us the light of his 
 promises, so that those who follow him have 
 bright hopes instead of gloomy fears. 
 
IN THE LIGHT. 113 
 
 Rothschild, the great Jewish banker, who 
 was supposed to be the richest man in the 
 world, was once asked this simple question, 
 " Are you happy ?" 
 
 " Happy," he answered, " when just as 
 you are going to dinner you have a letter 
 placed in your hand saying, If you don't 
 lend me five hundred pounds I will blow 
 your brains out ! Happy, when you have to 
 sleep with pistols under your pillow! No, 
 indeed, I am not happy." 
 
 Had he walked in the light of the Saviour's 
 example, and expended his vast wealth in 
 doing good, I suppose his answer would have 
 been very different. 
 
 A poor, lame and aged woman who lived 
 in one small room, and earned a part of her 
 scanty living by knitting, and for the rest 
 had to depend on the kindness of others, 
 was once asked this same question : " Lydia, 
 are you happy ?" 
 
 " Happy I" she answered, with a beaming 
 face ; " I am just as full as I can be ; I do 
 
114 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 not believe I could hold another drop of 
 
 joy." 
 
 " But why ? You are sick, and alone, and 
 have almost nothing to live upon." 
 
 " Have you never read," said she, point- 
 ing to the Bible, " ' All things are yours, and 
 ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's '? And 
 again, 'Ask and receive that your joy may 
 be full'?" 
 
 You know how it is in the dark. If you 
 were hungry and starving, there might be 
 food within reach which you would not be 
 able to find. So it was with the rich man 
 of whom I have just spoken. He might 
 have been very happy, but because he did 
 not walk in the light of God's promises, 
 such as, " He that giveth to the poor lendeth 
 to the Lord," he could not find the way. 
 But the poor woman who was sick, and had 
 to work for her daily bread, and depend 
 upon charity at the same time, had Christ, 
 the Light of the world, at her side, and he 
 made everything bright and beautiful around 
 

 IN THE LIGHT. 115 
 
 her. She was happy whilst the rich man 
 was full of anxiety. 
 
 " Lo, I am with you alway " — that is 
 one of Christ's promises, and a precious one 
 it is : with you in the hour of temptation 
 to make plain the way of escape, with you 
 in my gentle, loving words, so that you will 
 not be afraid or discouraged when you are 
 trying to do right. No matter how dark the 
 night may be, and though the lights in the 
 room may have been all put out, if you hear 
 the voice of your mother at the side of your 
 bed, and she takes your hand in hers, you 
 go to sleep without any fear. Then you can 
 understand the Saviour's promise, " Lo, I 
 am with you alway." 
 
 One morning a mother gave to her two 
 little ones books and toys to amuse them 
 while she went to attend to some work in an 
 upper room. A half hour passed quietly, 
 and then a timid voice at the foot of the 
 stairs called out, "Mamma, are you there?" 
 
 " Yes, darling." 
 
116 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 " All right, then ;" and the child went 
 back to its play. By and by the question 
 was repeated : " Mamma, are you there?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " All right then ;" and the little ones, 
 reassured of their mother's presence, again 
 returned to their toys. Thus we, God's 
 little ones, in doubt and loneliness, look up 
 and ask, " Father, art thou there ?" and 
 when there comes in answer the assurance 
 of his presence our hearts are quieted. 
 
 Far away in the gloomy prison of Ander- 
 sonville a little drummer-boy was dying. 
 The matted brown hair was pushed back 
 from the white brow, and in his wasted, 
 haggard features his fond mother, if she 
 had seen him, would scarcely have recog- 
 nized the handsome, merry-hearted boy who 
 had a short time before made pleasant sun- 
 shine in her widowed home. Manfully and 
 patiently had he battled with the hardships 
 of his prison life, never complaining and 
 never despairing, but hunger and exposure 
 
IN THE LIGHT. 117 
 
 of every kind had done their work too well, 
 and therefore he could not escape terrible 
 sufferings. But our kind heavenly Father 
 sent the angel of mercy to bear his brave 
 spirit to his house of many mansions. The 
 blue eyes unclosed, the pale lips moved, and 
 the comrade bent his head to catch his 
 dying words. " Put the bright side out to 
 mother," he said, and one more prisoner 
 was free. Truly there was a bright side if 
 Jesus was there. 
 
 If Christ is your light, you will show it in 
 everything you do — you will not be afraid 
 to have your actions seen and known. I 
 never saw a flower yet that loved darkness 
 rather than light. But the wicked prefer 
 the darkness because they want to hide 
 their deeds. Every flower exhibits the 
 light of the sun in its own beautiful colors, 
 and so are you to let your light shine — the 
 light that Christ gives you, and that thus 
 becomes yours, just as we speak of the light 
 of the moon when it shines upon the hills 
 
118 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 and the valleys, and makes the streams look 
 so bright, which is not the light of the moon 
 at all, but is really borrowed from the sun. 
 
 " How I love to help mother !" said little 
 Sophie Foster as with a sigh of satisfaction 
 she rose from rocking the cradle. Baby was 
 fast asleep. The gray cat lay winking and 
 blinking before the fire. The sunshine 
 poured in bright and golden, and played 
 with the leaves of the ivy that had been 
 trained over the window. Presently mother 
 came in, and went right up to Sophie and 
 kissed her before she knew it. " So baby is 
 asleep. You have been a great comfort to 
 me. My headache is all gone, and now 
 you may put on your red riding-hood and 
 boots and water-proof cloak, and go out to 
 play." 
 
 Sophie's face was very bright as she skip- 
 ped over the sidewalk that afternoon. You 
 do not wonder why. It was the light shin- 
 ing from within that looked so pleasantly 
 out of her eyes. She had denied herself a 
 
IN THE LIGHT. 119 
 
 visit to a little cousin that she might help 
 mother, and so she walked in the light of 
 the Saviour's example, for he denied him- 
 self, and he tells us that we must take up 
 our cross daily and follow him. This cross- 
 bearing is not always easy, but it is always 
 right, and the purest joy comes out of it in 
 the end. Clouds and disappointments will 
 not make you uneasy and fretful if you only 
 have Christ at your side and the light of his 
 love in your heart, because you will always 
 find work to do for him wherever you may 
 be — pleasant work, work that will bring hap- 
 piness to you because it will make others 
 happy. 
 
 " Oh dear ! it always does rain when I 
 want to go anywhere !" cried little Jennie 
 Moore. "It's too bad! Now I've got to 
 stay in-doors, and I know I shall have a 
 wretched day." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Uncle Jack, " but you 
 need not have a wretched day unless you 
 choose." 
 
120 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 " How can I help it ? I wanted to go to 
 the park, and play on the grass, and pull 
 wild flowers, and now there is not going to 
 be any sunshine at all, and I shall have to 
 stand here and see it rain all the day long." 
 
 "Well, let's make a little sunshine/' said 
 Uncle Jack. This made Jennie smile through 
 her tears, showing that Uncle Jack had man- 
 ufactured a few rays already. So Jennie 
 agreed to be his partner in this new business, 
 and went to work according to these three 
 rules : 
 
 First, Don't think of what might have 
 been if the day had been better. 
 
 Second, See how many things there are 
 left to enjoy. 
 
 And, lastly, Do all you can to make other 
 people happy." 
 
 Jennie began by amusing her little brother, 
 who was crying. By the time she had him 
 riding a chair and laughing she was laugh- 
 ing too. After that she found many a pleas- 
 ant amusement, and when bed-time came 
 
IN THE LIGHT. 121 
 
 she kissed her kind uncle good-night, and 
 was even far more happy than if she had 
 spent the day in playing on the grass and 
 gathering wild flowers. But that was not 
 all. She dreamed that night that Uncle 
 Jack had built a great house, and put a sign 
 over the door which read : 
 
 Sunshine Factory. 
 She made her uncle laugh when she told 
 her dream ; but she never forgot what you 
 must remember : A cheerful heart makes its 
 own sunshine. A cheerful heart is one in 
 which the Saviour dwells. If you follow 
 him, you will not walk in darkness : all days 
 and all duties will be bright and beautiful. 
 
 " The world is ever as we take it, 
 And life, dear child, is what we make it." 
 
 Thus spoke a grandame, bent with care, 
 To little Mabel, flushed and fair. 
 
 But Mabel took no heed that day 
 Of what she heard her grandame say. 
 
 Years after, when no more a child, 
 Her path in life seemed dark and wild. 
 
122 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Back to her heart the memory came 
 Of the quaint utterance of the dame : 
 
 " The world, dear child, is as we take it, 
 And life, be sure, is what we make it." 
 
 She cleared her brow, and smiling thought, 
 " 'Tis even as the good soul taught ! 
 
 " And half my woes thus quickly cured, 
 The other half may be endured." 
 
 No more her heart its shadow wore ; 
 She grew a little child once more. 
 
 A little child in love and trust, 
 
 She took the world — as we, too, must — 
 
 In happy mood ; and, lo ! it grew 
 Brighter and brighter to her view. 
 
 She" made of life — as we, too, should — 
 A joy ; and, lo ! all things were good 
 
 And fair to her, as in God's sight, 
 When first he said, "Let there be light." 
 
\vi*t nt % Irore, 
 
 123 
 
" Behold, I stand at the door and knock : if any man hear my 
 voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with 
 him, and he with me." — Kev. iii. 20. 
 124 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 CHRIST AT THE DOOR. 
 
 ""DEHOLD, I stand at the door and 
 ^ knock : if any man hear my voice, 
 and open the door, I will come in to him, 
 and will sup with him, and he with me." 
 
 There are five things alluded to in these 
 words — a door, a knocking, a voice without, 
 an answer within and a supper. 
 
 First, there is a door. And what sort of 
 a door do you suppose it is ? Do you think 
 it is made of wood, like the doors of the 
 house you live in ? Sometimes it is harder 
 than wood — harder than the hardest stone — 
 and more strongly fastened than any door 
 with iron locks and bolts, so that even the 
 love of God, which is the strongest thing in 
 the world, cannot get in. The door here 
 spoken of is the human heart. 
 
 125 
 
126 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 And who is it that is knocking at this 
 door? Why it is Jesus, the Saviour, who 
 wants to make your heart his home and 
 live with you for ever. 
 
 I have said the heart is sometimes very 
 hard, by which I mean very wicked, very 
 unfriendly to the Saviour, very unwilling 
 that he should enter. I have said this, not 
 because I wish to say anything unkind, or 
 anything that will make you feel unhappy, 
 but because it is the truth. The Bible 
 speaks of those who make their hearts as 
 "an adamant" or diamond, which is the 
 hardest kind of stone. And one of God's 
 promises is, I will take away the stony 
 heart and give a heart of flesh — that is, a 
 tender heart ; and this he does whenever we 
 love the Saviour and keep his command- 
 ments. 
 
 I once heard of a boy who was ashamed 
 of his mother merely because she was poor, 
 and who did not like to walk with her in 
 the street for fear the other boys would 
 
CHRIST AT THE DOOR. 127 
 
 notice her plain dress, which, though very- 
 clean and neat, was very cheap. His mo- 
 ther had done all she could for him — had 
 watched over him in his infancy, had nursed 
 him when he was sick, had purchased for 
 him clothes far better than her own, and 
 sent him to school while she worked hard 
 every day. He ought to have been proud 
 of such a mother. But with all her love 
 for him, she had no place in his heart. You 
 will say his heart must have been very hard 
 not to let his own mother in ; you would not 
 hesitate to call him a very hard-hearted boy 
 for despising his mother. But then you are 
 to remember that Jesus has done for you 
 more than any mother could do for her 
 child. What, then, do you think of your 
 own heart if you do not love the Saviour 
 who has shown so much love for you ? 
 
 Then, how does Jesus knock at the door? 
 How does he try to get possession of your 
 heart — to win vour love ? 
 
 There are several ways in which he does 
 
128 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 this. First, he does it by means of his 
 words. Every time he speaks to you in the 
 gospel he is knocking at the door. "When- 
 ever he tells you of his love for you — tells 
 you how he came into the world on pur- 
 pose to die for you — he is saying, " Let me 
 have a place in your heart, let me have a 
 place in your love," just as plainly as your 
 father and your mother say it by every 
 tender, affectionate word they speak to you, 
 and by everything they do to make you 
 happy. 
 
 Jesus sends others who come to you in his 
 name and plead for him. Your parents have 
 told you at home, your Sabbath-school 
 teacher has told you in the class, what Jesus 
 has done for you, and you have often been 
 urged to give your heart to him. And per- 
 haps you have resolved more than once not 
 to shut your heart against this kind and 
 loving Saviour any longer. It may be that 
 you have been deeply affected by what you 
 have read and heard of the love of Jesus 
 
CHRIST AT THE DOOR. 129 
 
 for you — you have even wept, it may be, 
 sometimes, when you have thought of this 
 love — and yet your, heart is closed, you 
 keep putting the Saviour off. I wonder 
 sometimes how this can be. I think if I 
 were to try very hard that I could make the 
 youngest child I know think a great deal of 
 me as a friend, and be willing to do anything 
 for me that a child could do. 
 
 I can account for this. If I shake hands 
 with you when I meet you, and speak pleas- 
 ant words, I expect that you will be pleasant 
 too, that you will be as kind to me as I am 
 to you. But I cannot account for it that 
 you will do all this for me, yet that when 
 the Saviour smiles upon you, you do not bid 
 him welcome, that when he approaches you, 
 instead of running into his arms, you run 
 away from him and hide, as you would from 
 a stranger, or from one who was not a stran- 
 ger whom you feared and disliked. Per- 
 haps you think as did a fine little fellow 
 scarcely six years old who said, "Mamma, 
 
130 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 when I am a man I will begin to love Jesus." 
 His mother had told him time after time 
 that he ought to love- Jesus while young, 
 but all that she had said to him seemed to 
 be in vain. When he uttered these words 
 her reply was, 
 
 " But, my dear, suppose you do not live to 
 be a man?" 
 
 He remained silent for some minutes, with 
 his eyes fixed on the ceiling, as if in deep 
 thought, and then with a resolute counte- 
 nance told her he would begin "at once." 
 
 That was a very wise conclusion. But 
 suppose you were sure that you would live 
 to be a man or a woman, would it be right 
 to put off loving Jesus until then ? I would 
 not tell you so. You would not tell your- 
 self so. You would not say to father, or 
 mother, or any other kind friend, "Wait 
 till I am grown up, and then I will begin to 
 love you." It would be a very unwise and 
 unbecoming speech. And why should you 
 say to Jesus what you would not say to any 
 
CUBIST AT THE BOOB. 131 
 
 one in the world who loves you, and whom 
 you ought to love? God says, "My son, 
 give me thine heart." 
 
 " Not yet," said the little boy as he was 
 busy with his trap and ball ; " when I grow 
 older I will think about it." 
 
 The little boy grew to be a young man. 
 " Not yet," said the young man ; " I am 
 going into business : when I see my busi- 
 ness prosper I shall have more time than 
 now." 
 
 Business did prosper. " Not yet," said 
 the man of business; "my children must 
 now have my care: when they are settled 
 in life I shall be better able to attend to 
 religion." 
 
 He lived to be a gray-headed old man. 
 " Not yet/' he still cried ; " I shall soon 
 retire from business, and then I shall have 
 nothing else to do but to read and pray." 
 
 And so he died unsaved, just because he 
 put off from time to time what should have 
 been done when he was a child. 
 
132 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 The Saviour is knocking now at your 
 heart by means of his tender, earnest, lov- 
 ing words, as he has often knocked. I hope 
 you will not send him away again. Only 
 think what precious words they are! He 
 says if you will open your heart to him he 
 will come in and sup with you — will make 
 your heart his own home, and always remain 
 there. I cannot tell you what this means. 
 No words of mine would enable you to 
 understand it. If you want to know what 
 it means, you must open the door and say : 
 
 "Welcome, welcome, dear Redeemer! 
 Welcome to this heart of mine : 
 Lord ! I make a full surrender, 
 
 Every power and thought be thine ; 
 
 Thine entirely — 
 Through eternal ages thine." 
 
 Then, too, Jesus knocks by means of con- 
 science. I suppose you have often felt that 
 you ought to love the Saviour, and that it 
 is wrong and very sinful not to love him. 
 Now, that feeling is the voice of the Sa- 
 viour saying to you, " Let me in." When- 
 
CHRIST AT THE DOOE. 133 
 
 ever conscience speaks, and in whatever 
 way, and we are troubled on account of 
 any sin, it is as if Jesus were saying, " Only 
 let rue into your heart, and I will keep sin 
 away." 
 
 There was a little girl named Hilda who 
 was not handsome by any means, but a very 
 plain-looking child, but when her heart was 
 full of good purposes and her hands were 
 busy in carrying them out, the inward beauty 
 could not help showing outside, and no one 
 would think she was homely-looking. But 
 Hilda was strongly tempted one day at the 
 very time she was doing all she could to put 
 the room in order for a sick neighbor. Her 
 hands were very busy, and she looked bright 
 and happy, and even beautiful. But sud- 
 denly the light all went out from that little 
 face, and left it, oh, so plain that it was not 
 indeed pretty at all. The low forehead, the 
 little gray eyes, the little pug nose, the large 
 mouth and the freckled skin were all there 
 was of it — blank and homely enough. And 
 
134 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 what do you suppose it was that had shut 
 off the sparkling, happy light so quickly ? 
 An evil thought ? Yes, that was it. The 
 good and evil could not dwell together for 
 a moment. So when the evil stole in the 
 good was all gone, and it took its own 
 brightness away with it. 
 
 In a little glass dish upon the stand were 
 a few pieces of money. Resting her eyes 
 upon these, Hilda had coveted. 'Twould 
 only be paying herself for her work, she 
 thought, if she took only one piece, and 
 nobody would miss it. And the little face 
 grew darker, darker, and the features fright- 
 fully plain. Everything was dusted, and 
 the cloth shaken and spread upon the stand 
 again, and the little dish with its bright 
 tempting pieces of money was passing slowly 
 in the little girl's hands to its corner. " Shall 
 I ?" was the question that shook every nerve 
 in her body. No wonder the nerves shook. 
 No wonder there was a wild look in the 
 gray eyes, to conceal which the eyelids 
 
CHRIST AT THE DOOR. 135 
 
 twitched very fast up and down. Her hand 
 trembled just for one moment, then it grew 
 very firm. Thanks to the kind little moni- 
 tor who is never driven away except by 
 much evil, the dish went down in its place 
 all right. With a great sigh of relief the 
 child felt the bad thought go out from her 
 heart, and instantly the joy and gladness 
 and beauty came back and shone again over 
 the poor little plain features. 
 
 Hilda had conquered. And how had she 
 conquered ? By letting the Saviour into her 
 heart. When her conscience troubled her 
 so at the thought of doing wrong, it was 
 Jesus himself standing at the door of her 
 heart, knocking, and saying, " Let me in, 
 and I will drive the tempter away." So she 
 let him in, and the moment Jesus entered, 
 the tempter and the temptation left her. 
 
 There is a verse in the Bible which says, 
 " Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." 
 Suppose some wicked boy were trying to 
 take from you your hoop or your ball right 
 
136 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 in front of your own house, and he were too 
 strong for you ; what would you do to make 
 him run ? Why, you would call your father 
 to come and help you, and the moment he 
 heard that name he would get away as fast 
 as he could. I would not advise any of you 
 to resist a wicked boy alone if you could get 
 help, for if he were stronger than you, or 
 even if he were not, he might give you a 
 black eye or soil your clothes, if he did 
 nothing worse. And it is very certain that 
 Satan is too strong for any of us. So it is 
 best to let Christ into the heart at once, for 
 where he is Satan cannot be. That is one 
 reason why Jesus wishes to be in your heart 
 — that he may help you resist the devil and 
 cause him to flee away from you. 
 
 I have told you two ways in which Jesus 
 knocks at the door : one is by means of his 
 words, and the other is by means of con- 
 science. This is the voice without. 
 
 The other voice is inside of the door : it 
 is your voice saying to the Saviour, " Come 
 
CHRIST AT THE DOOR. 137 
 
 in," just as you say it to any friend. If you 
 only say this, or feel it, Jesus will open the 
 door and enter. I know the text says if we 
 open the door he will come in. Well, that 
 is the same as though it said if we do not 
 prevent him from opening it. It is very 
 much like this : Suppose a friend of yours 
 should come to your house and knock at the 
 door, and you should say, "Come in," and 
 he should try the door-latch, and find it 
 fastened inside; why, he would say, if you 
 will open the door I will come in. By open- 
 ing the door he would mean, If you will push 
 back the bolt or turn the lock, and thus 
 allow me to open it, I will come in. It is 
 just so with many people. They say, 
 "Come in," to the Saviour, and when he 
 tries to open the door he finds it locked and 
 bolted. You say, perhaps, to father or mo- 
 ther or teacher, Oh yes, I am willing to have 
 the Saviour come into my heart, I really 
 want him to come, and yet he does not. 
 Now, let me say to you that if the Saviour 
 
138 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 is not in your heart, it is because you do not 
 want him there. He never yet kept out of 
 any heart that was not bolted against him. 
 If you are willing, he is so eager to come in 
 that he will not remain a single moment out- 
 side. 
 
 How do we often treat the Saviour ? Why, 
 we let him stand knocking and pleading for 
 a long time, and say, now and then, perhaps, 
 in a sort of careless, indifferent way, as if we 
 did not mean it, " Come in," and when he 
 tries, he finds the heart all bolted against 
 him, and thus we mock him, in addition to 
 all our other bad treatment. In the end, it 
 may be, he does not get in at all, but goes 
 away, and knocks and pleads no longer. 
 What would you think of yourself if you 
 were to treat any other friend in such a 
 manner as this ? 
 
 The other day I saw a picture of a man 
 with a gentle, loving face standing in a dark 
 night before a door that was tightly shut. 
 The night was so dark that the door would 
 
CHRIST AT THE DOOR. 139 
 
 not have been visible bad it not been for a 
 lantern which the man held in his hand. 
 That picture represents the one spoken of in 
 Solomon's Song as knocking and saying, 
 " Open to me, for my head is filled with dew 
 and my locks with the drops of the night." 
 And the one who thus speaks is the Saviour. 
 So long as we shut our hearts against him, it 
 is as if we were keeping our best friend out 
 in the darkness and loneliness of a cold, wet 
 night. 
 
 How should you treat the Saviour ? Sup- 
 pose it were a sister or a brother that was 
 knocking ; would you content yourself with 
 saying, " Come in," especially if he had 
 been long absent, and you loved him as a 
 brother or a sister ought to be loved ? No. 
 You would run to the door and fling it open, 
 and you would open your arms and have 
 the warm kiss ready, you would be so glad. 
 
 Now, this shows the eagerness with which 
 you should welcome the Saviour to your 
 heart and your home. There is a great dif- 
 
140 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 ference, you know, in the manner in which 
 persons are received. Sometimes you say to 
 them, " Come in," when you would rather 
 have them stay out. And when they are in 
 you are very unsociable — hardly know what 
 to say. But when a friend comes whom you 
 love, you are at no loss for words ; you are 
 warm and earnest in everything you say and 
 do. Some people are very polite to the 
 Saviour ; they how to him and treat him 
 civilly, but it is a cold civility after all : it 
 is not the glowing, fond, generous welcome 
 you give to a loving and beloved friend. 
 This cold civility is very irksome. And 
 that is the reason why many who profess to 
 have received the Saviour into their hearts 
 serve him so reluctantly. They always look 
 unwilling when they are asked to do any- 
 thing for Christ. 
 
 Almost anybody can tell whether your 
 greeting is reserved or not — whether you are 
 glad to see him or not — and Jesus certainly 
 can. He does not make his abode where he 
 
CHRIST AT THE DOOR. 141 
 
 is not welcome. He may just look in, but 
 will turn away again if the heart is not eager 
 to receive him. It was a beautiful answer 
 given by a great lady on being asked where 
 her husband was, who lay concealed for hav- 
 ing been deeply concerned in a conspiracy, 
 when she resolutely replied that she had hid 
 him. This confession drew her before the 
 king, Charles the Second, who told her that 
 nothing but her revealing where her lord 
 was could save her from torture. 
 
 " And will that do ?" said the lady. 
 
 " Yes/' replied the king ; " I'll give you 
 my word for it." 
 
 " Then," said she, " I have hid my lord 
 in my heart ; there, and there alone, you'll 
 find him." 
 
 When any one asks you where your Lord 
 is, you should be able to say, " I have hid 
 him in my heart." 
 
 And now what shall I say of the supper 
 that Jesus will eat with you and you with 
 him if you thus open your heart to him? 
 
142 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 There are two words that, I think, tell the 
 whole : they are, security and strength. When 
 you sit down to a comfortable meal in a com- 
 fortable room, with friends around you and 
 a good appetite, you feel safe; you fear 
 no danger, and the eating gives you new 
 strength. 
 
 Let me illustrate what I mean by security. 
 
 During the late war a Sunday-school 
 teacher was passing with a friend through 
 the woods of Virginia. They thought they 
 had the countersign, but when challenged 
 by the sentinel found to their dismay that 
 a wrong one had been given them. As the 
 sentinel was a Sunday-school boy, and knew 
 the gentlemen, they were allowed to retrace 
 their steps and secure the right word, and 
 were then permitted to pass. As they 
 passed the Sunday-school teacher said to 
 the sentinel, " Have you got the other 
 countersign, my boy ?" 
 
 " Yes, thank God, I have," was the an- 
 swer. 
 
CHRIST AT THE DOOR. 143 
 
 " What is it ?" 
 
 " The blood of the Lord Jesus Christ/' 
 was the soldier's reply. 
 
 And now I will tell you what I mean by 
 strength. A bright boy who loved the sea 
 entered on a sailor's life, and was made 
 master of a ship while yet quite a young 
 man. On one occasion, when near the port 
 toward which he was sailing, in order to 
 reach the dock with the morning tide, in- 
 stead of telegraphing for a pilot to take 
 the vessel into port, he resolved to be his 
 own pilot. Old, bronzed and gray-headed 
 seamen turned their swarthy faces to the sky, 
 which boded squally weather, and shook their 
 heads. The result was that his queenly ship 
 was wrecked, and the costly freight was lost 
 in the sea. The glory of that young man 
 was his strength ; but he was his own pilot. 
 His own pilot ! There was his blunder — 
 fatal, suicidal blunder. Take Christ into 
 your heart, and he will say to all your 
 stormy passions, " Peace ! be still." 
 
144 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Let me in, he says, that I may be your 
 beauty, and your wisdom, and your strength, 
 and your salvation. How ]ong will you let 
 the Saviour knock and plead before you 
 open the door ? 
 
10 145 
 
 
" A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid. ' Neither do men light 
 a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick. ,, — Matt. 
 v. 14, 15. 
 146 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 A CITY AND A CANDLE. 
 
 rjIHE other morning as I was looking out 
 of the window and saw the houses that 
 are built along the edge of the opposite 
 mountain, I thought of these words of the 
 Saviour : " A city that is set on a hill can- 
 not be hid. Neither do men light a candle, 
 and put it under a bushel, but on a candle- 
 stick." I thought of the important lesson 
 they contain, and then I determined to give 
 that lesson to my young friends. 
 Somebody says there are 
 
 "Sermons in stones;" 
 
 and in our text Jesus tells us there are ser- 
 mons in cities, and in the candle or the 
 lamp that makes home so pleasant during 
 the darkness of the night. Everything 
 
 147 
 
148 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 around us is intended to bring to us some 
 useful lesson. When you pick up a pebble, 
 or look at a single grain of sand, or tread 
 upon the dried leaves that the cold days 
 have loosened from the trees, or when your 
 eye rests upon anything else that God has 
 made, you ought to ask yourself, What does 
 the pebble — or whatever it may be — tell me 
 about God and my duty to him ? 
 
 At present, we are to learn what the city 
 and the candle say, and we shall find this, I 
 am sure, quite enough for one lesson, quite 
 enough to remember and to do. 
 
 Last summer, as I was journeying along 
 the bank of the Hudson River at night, I 
 noticed quite a large city, with stores along 
 the edge of the water and dwellings beyond, 
 one row above the other, on the hill-side, and 
 lights were shining from the windows of the 
 houses and all along the streets. A beauti- 
 ful sight it was. And the city seemed to 
 say, " In the day-time I cannot be hid, and 
 in the night-time I do not want to be hid." 
 
A CITY AND A CANDLE. 149 
 
 This is just what the text tells us in 
 regard to our actions. First, when it talks 
 of the city set upon a hill, it tells us that 
 we cannot hide them ; and then, when it 
 talks of the candle on a candlestick, it tells 
 us that we should have no desire to hide 
 them. 
 
 First, I want you to remember that you 
 cannot hide your actions. You certainly 
 cannot hide them from God, for he knows 
 all things — knows what you are doing, 
 though you may try to conceal it ever so 
 much — knows even all the thoughts and 
 wishes of your heart — knows whether they 
 are right or wrong. What is gained, then, 
 by hiding from those around us what we 
 cannot hide from God ? 
 
 I read, not long ago, the story of an In- 
 dian girl who loved Jesus. Nothing grieved 
 her so much as to displease him. One day 
 her teacher said to her, " Eva, will you sweep 
 the school-house for me ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said she, very cheerfully ; 
 
150 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 and so Eva was left alone in the deserted 
 school-room. 
 
 Having occasion to return, the teacher's 
 surprise was great when she found the broom 
 lying on the floor and little Eva sobbing 
 violently. 
 
 "What is the matter, my dear child?" 
 she inquired anxiously. 
 
 The weeping child hid her face in her 
 teacher's dress, but could not speak. At 
 last she said, " Oh, I've been so wicked !" 
 
 " Why, Eva, what have you done ?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't love Jesus enough" sobbed 
 the child ; " I looked angry at some girls to- 
 day !" 
 
 " Did you strike them ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Nor speak unkind words to them ?" 
 
 " Oh no, no, but I looked angry. I was 
 very angry in my heart, and I'm afraid 
 Jesus can never forgive me." 
 
 She could not be comforted until they 
 knelt and asked Jesus to forgive his little 
 
A CITY AND A CANDLE. 151 
 
 child her sin. That Indian girl knew that 
 Jesus looks at the heart even of a little 
 child. 
 
 But then it is impossible altogether to hide 
 our actions, or even our thoughts, from those 
 around us. 
 
 The boy who has done right, and who has 
 no desire to do wrong, wears a bright face, 
 glowing all over with the sunshine of joy 
 that is in his heart. He is not afraid to 
 look you in the eye. But if you are guilty 
 of deliberate faults, of doing what you know 
 you ought not to do, you will be shy and 
 feel afraid to meet your best friends ; when 
 you hear father or mother enter the door, 
 instead of being glad, you will feel uneasy, 
 and go where you can be alone ; and when 
 that father's eye at last meets yours, and you 
 see that mother's smile, full of love and con- 
 fidence, your eye will drop and your cheek 
 will be covered with the blush of shame. It 
 is quite right that it should be so, for it 
 would be very sad, because it would show 
 
152 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 how extremely hardened in wickedness you 
 had become, if you could commit sin and 
 then stand as erect and wear as bright a look 
 as if you had always tried to avoid it. 
 
 I once heard of a little girl who was de- 
 tected in a very serious fault by a kiss. 
 Her mother had told her not to touch a jar 
 of mince-meat that stood on the table. But 
 during her mother's absence she put her 
 hand into the jar and helped herself, and 
 then ran into the play-room and stayed 
 a long time. She washed her hands and 
 face quite clean, and was sure nobody had 
 see her and that no one would find it out. 
 But when her mother undressed her at night 
 she saw a piece of mince-meat clinging to 
 her apron. The mother hoped it was an 
 accident, so she asked, " Did you touch the 
 mince-meat in play ?" 
 
 " No," said the little girl, " I didn't take 
 any." But her face became very hot, and 
 she crept into bed, not daring to ask her 
 mother to kiss her, and yet feeling that she 
 
A CITY AND A CANDLE. 153 
 
 could not go to sleep without the accustomed 
 kiss. 
 
 Presently her mother stooped over her, 
 but as she raised her child's lips to her own 
 her eyes filled with tears, and her face grew 
 white as she exclaimed, "My child has surely 
 told a lie ! Oh, Nettie, your breath tells 
 the story. That was a bitter kiss my little 
 daughter was going to give her mother." 
 Then she kneeled down by the little bed, 
 and put her arms around Nettie, and asked 
 the Saviour to forgive her, and every now 
 and then she had to stop, the tears came so 
 fast. 
 
 " I shall never forget that time," said this 
 child when she grew older, " nor the bitter 
 kiss I was going to give my mother." 
 
 But though you were able to hide wrong 
 actions and wicked thoughts from others, 
 you would not be able to hide them from 
 yourself. The memory of them would fol- 
 low you every day. You would have an 
 uneasy conscience. Even if you were to 
 

 154 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 put on a smile when you met your friends, 
 and pretend to be light-hearted, there would 
 be a heavy weight in your soul. 
 
 "Children," said Mrs. Jay, "you may 
 play anywhere in the yard, but don't go 
 beyond the garden gate. Do you hear me, 
 Peter?" 
 
 "Yes, mother," said Peter, looking up 
 from his wheelbarrow — "do not go be- 
 yond the garden gate." 
 
 But Peter did go beyond the garden gate, 
 into the wood, and along the brook that ran 
 through it, and then said to Jessie, " Don't 
 you tell." 
 
 " Not if mother asks ?" inquired Jessie. 
 
 " She won't ask," said Peter. 
 
 Mother did not ask, nor did Jessie tell, 
 and all went on at home as usual. But 
 on Saturday night, after Jessie had gone 
 to sleep, Peter and his mother talked a 
 little longer together, as they often did 
 on that night. Then it was that he could 
 keep his secret no longer. He said, "Mother, 
 
A CITY AND A CANDLE. 155 
 
 I have been in the wood beyond the garden 
 gate this week." 
 
 " When did you go ?" she asked. 
 
 He told her. "And, mother," he said, 
 "nothing happened to us there; we didn't 
 fall into the water, nor tear our clothes. 
 Why didn't you want us to go ?" 
 
 " You lost something that afternoon in 
 the wood," said his mother. 
 
 "Lost something?" said Peter, and he 
 thought of his knife, and his slate pencils, 
 and his ball, and a three-cent piece; he 
 hadn't lost one of them, he was quite sure. 
 
 " Think a moment what you have missed," 
 replied his mother, "for I know you lost 
 something." 
 
 Peter wondered how his mother could 
 know what he didn't know himself. " You 
 will recollect if you think," said she. 
 
 Peter put his head under the bed-quilt, 
 for he began to see what he had lost, and 
 the more he thought of it, the surer he 
 became. 
 
156 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 " Mother," lie said, at last, " you are right ; 
 I did lose something in the wood : I lost the 
 hapjriness that was in my heart." 
 
 This, then, is the lesson of the first part 
 of the text — you cannot hide your actions 
 or your thoughts from God or yourself; 
 neither can you always hide them from 
 those around you. 
 
 The second point contained in our Saviour's 
 words is that you should have no desire to 
 hide your actions. You should always do 
 right, not only for your own sake and be- 
 cause it will make you happy, but for the 
 sake of example,. If any of your com- 
 panions are selfish, you are to be generous ; 
 if they are rough, you are to be gentle; 
 if they are lazy, you are to be studious; 
 if they tempt you to be disobedient, you are 
 to resist the temptation, and silence them 
 and make them ashamed, and lead them 
 to do better by your noble words. 
 
 A boy was once tempted by some of his 
 companions to pluck ripe cherries from a 
 
A CITY AND A CANDLE. 
 
 157 
 
 tree which his father had forbidden him to 
 touch. 
 
 " You need not be afraid/' said one of his 
 companions, " for if your father should find 
 out that you have taken them, he is so kind 
 he would not hurt you." 
 
 "That is the very reason," replied the 
 boy, " why I would not touch them. It is 
 true my father would not hurt me, yet my 
 disobedience, I know, would hurt him, and 
 that would be worse to me than anything 
 else." 
 
 That boy was like a candle set upon a 
 candlestick. He let his light shine. He 
 did not attempt to hide his love for his 
 father and his respect for all his father's 
 commands. He did not shrink like a 
 cow T ard from the sneers of his wicked com- 
 panions when they tried to argue him into 
 sin, and hold his tongue and steal away as 
 if he were afraid to stand up for duty, but 
 he spoke boldly, promptly, plainly, and so 
 that the meaning of his words could not be 
 
158 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 mistaken. He was not like a certain little 
 girl who has two faces. When she is dressed 
 up in her white dress and blue sash, and has 
 on her blue kid shoes, and around her neck a 
 string of pearl beads, she looks so sweet and 
 good that you would like to kiss her, for 
 she knows that company is going to call on 
 her mother, and she expects that the ladies 
 will say, " What a little darling !" or, "What 
 lovely curls !" or, " What a sweet mouth !" 
 and then kiss her little red lips, and perhaps 
 give her some sugar-plums. The ladies who 
 praise her think she is very lady-like, for 
 she always says " Yes, ma'am," and " ISTo, 
 ma'am/' when she ought, and says " Thank 
 you" so sweetly when anything is given 
 her. But when she is alone with her mo- 
 ther, she is sometimes very naughty. If she 
 cannot have what she would like, or cannot 
 do just what she wishes, then she will pout, 
 and cry, and scream. No one would ever 
 think of kissing such lips, nor would any 
 one suppose her to be the same little girl 
 
 
A CITY AND A CANDLE. 159 
 
 who behaved so prettily in company. I 
 might name another little girl who has 
 only one face, and that is always as sweet 
 as a peach, and never so sweet as when she 
 is alone with her mother. 
 
 Always seem to be what you are. Always 
 try to be what you ought to be, and then 
 you will not be tempted to seem otherwise 
 than you are. 
 
 You know how it is with a lamp. If you 
 feed it with good, honest oil, and keep the 
 wick properly trimmed, it will always be and 
 do the same thing. If you put it on the 
 table, it will light up the whole room. If 
 you carry it with you out of doors in the 
 darkest night, it will enable you to walk 
 without stumbling. Such is its nature, and 
 therefore you can always depend upon it. 
 Such is its use, and therefore you do not 
 light it, and then cover it and make every- 
 thing around as dark as if no light were 
 burning. 
 
 Now, it seems to me that you can hardly 
 

 160 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 fail to understand the meaning of all this. 
 It means what I have already said — that you 
 should always try to be what you ought to 
 be and to do what you ought to do. 
 
 The other day I was walking past a con- 
 servatory that was full of beautiful plants 
 and flowers, and I looked through the glass 
 windows and saw the green leaves and the 
 bright blossoms just as plainly as if no glass 
 had been there. It would be right to say 
 the glass was truthful ; it certainly was 
 transparent; it did not hide nor misrepre- 
 sent; it did not make the white flower look 
 red, nor the red flower look blue. 
 
 Thus through your words and actions 
 should every one be able to look right into 
 your heart, so that when you laugh it will 
 be known that you are happy, and when you 
 speak it will be known that you mean what 
 you say. 
 
 " I can trust that boy," is the very highest 
 praise, whether it come from God or man. 
 Aim to deserve it. 
 
A CITY AND A CANDLE. 161 
 
 The candle also tells you that you are not 
 to be ashamed of any right action, however 
 humble it may be. There are boys, and girls 
 too, who would be ashamed to carry a, bun- 
 dle or wear a patched garment who would 
 not be ashamed to speak unkindly to a 
 brother or a sister. Go into a room where 
 the lights are burning very brightly, and if 
 you put a single candle alongside of the 
 brilliant lamps, it would hardly be noticed ; 
 and yet the little candle, instead of being 
 ashamed of its littleness and going out 
 among the greater lights, would burn as 
 earnestly and bravely as if it were the sun 
 itself. 
 
 A rival of a certain great lawyer sought 
 to humiliate him publicly by saying, " You 
 blacked my father's boots once." 
 
 "Yes," replied the lawyer, unabashed, 
 " and I did it well." 
 
 That is just what God will say to those 
 
 who perform the smallest duties because they 
 
 love his commandments — " Well clone." 
 11 
 
162 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 You often sing the words, 
 
 "Dare to do right," 
 
 but there is a great difference, remember, 
 between singing and doing. It requires no 
 courage to sing, 
 
 " I want to be like Jesus, 
 So lowly and so meek," 
 
 but it requires a great deal of courage to do 
 as he did — to be as gentle as he was — to be 
 as ready as he was to perform what men 
 would call the meanest service. He was not 
 ashamed even to wash his disciples' feet. 
 
 Do you, my young friends, want to be 
 brave as the Saviour was — brave in telling 
 the truth, brave in acting the truth ? There 
 is one way in w T hich it will all be easy, and 
 that is to love the truth. With love, duty is 
 like a golden chain ; without love, it is like 
 a heavy burden. 
 
 Two girls were going to a neighboring 
 town, each carrying on her head a heavy 
 basket of fruit to sell. One of them was 
 
A CITY AND A CANDLE. 163 
 
 murmuring and fretting all the way, and 
 complaining of the weight of her basket. 
 The other went along smiling and singing, 
 and seeming to be very happy. 
 
 At last, the first got out of patience with 
 her companion, and said, " How can you be 
 so merry and joyful when your basket is 
 as heavy as mine, and you are not a bit 
 stronger than I am ? I don't understand it." 
 
 " Oh," said the other, " it's easy enough 
 to understand. I have a certain little plant 
 which I put on the top of my load, and it 
 makes it so light I hardly feel it." 
 
 " Indeed ! That must be a very precious 
 little plant. I wish I could lighten my load 
 with it. Where does it grow? Tell me, 
 what do you call it ?" 
 
 " It grows wherever you plant it and give 
 it a chance to take root, and there's no 
 knowing the relief it gives. Its name is 
 LOVE — the love of Jesus. Jesus loved 
 me so much that he died to save my soul. 
 This makes me love him. Whatever I do, 
 
164 
 
 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 whether it be carrying this basket or any- 
 thing else, I think to myself, I am doing 
 this for Jesus, to show that I love him, and 
 this makes everything easy and pleasant." 
 
 Remember, then, that they are the bravest 
 who love Jesus most. 
 
165 
 
Ask, and it shall be given you." — Matt. vii. 7. 
 
 166 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PRAYER AND PROMISE. 
 
 " A SK, and it shall be given you." This is 
 ■"■ the promise which the Saviour makes 
 to every one. And what a precious promise 
 it is, since it comes from One who is able to 
 do all he declares himself willing to do ! 
 
 You all know how to ask. Whenever you 
 pray, you tell God what your wishes are, and 
 ask him to give you what you think you 
 need. Whenever you offer that prayer which 
 Jesus himself taught his disciples, and which 
 goes from your lips every Sabbath, and per- 
 haps every day in the week, you call God 
 your Father, and pray that his name may 
 be hallowed by you — that is, that God him- 
 self may be honored and j^raised and obeyed 
 in all your deeds and words. You pray that 
 his kingdom may come, and that his will 
 
 167 
 
168 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 may be done everywhere and by all, just 
 as cheerfully and just as perfectly as it is 
 done in heaven. You also pray for daily 
 bread — that is, for food and raiment, and 
 health, and every earthly comfort. You 
 pray for the forgiveness of your sins, and 
 ask God to keep you from temptation, and 
 to deliver you from it when you fall into 
 it. Now, we may be very sure that these 
 are the things which God desires us to 
 have, and the world to have, and that when 
 we ask for these things and others like them 
 our prayers will be heard and answered. 
 
 There is a difference, remember, between 
 praying and "saying your prayers." You 
 say your prayers when you merely repeat 
 the words and mean nothing by them, and 
 you pray when you really desire and feel 
 your need of all you pray for. 
 
 You can easily understand what I mean 
 by this : If you were very hungry, and 
 were to ask your mother for a piece of 
 bread, that would be prayer. And I will 
 
PRAYER AND PROMISE. 169 
 
 tell you how we should know it to be 
 prayer. If your mother were to refuse at 
 first, or seemed not to hear you, you would 
 keep on asking, and as you grew more 
 hungry you would become more earnest, 
 and perhaps even cry bitterly, and would 
 give your mother no rest until you obtained 
 the bread. But if, on her refusing, you 
 were to turn away without caring at all 
 about it, and were to go laughing to your 
 play again, your asking for bread would 
 not be prayer, because it would be very 
 plain that you were not hungry, and that 
 you were asking only in sport. When I 
 see boys and girls, or men and women, 
 irreverent in prayer, talking or behaving 
 improperly in the house of prayer, I know 
 that they are asking only in sport. You 
 must be sincere, then, when you pray. This 
 is one of the conditions on which the answer 
 is promised. If you pray for the forgive- 
 ness of your sins, you must feel that you 
 have sinned, and be sorry for it. And if 
 
170 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 you pray to be kept from temptation, you 
 must try to keep yourself from it, and thus 
 show that you want God to do for you what 
 you ask him to do. If you felt your need 
 of all you ask for in the Lord's Prayer, 
 you would have your sins forgiven and be 
 a loving and obedient follower of Jesus. If 
 w T e are not sincere when we pray, w r e shall 
 not expect an answer, because we do not care 
 for it. 
 
 The story I am going to tell you now shows 
 what sincerity is, and what a strong faith it 
 has, though it does not follow from this 
 story that every sincere prayer will be an- 
 swered precisely as this was, for reasons 
 which we will consider afterward. The 
 story is this : 
 
 Willie was the only son of his parents. 
 When very young his mother began to teach 
 him about God and heaven, and his mind 
 seemed to drink in all the sweet things she 
 told him, just as the flowers receive the drops 
 of dew that give them strength and beauty. 
 
PRAYER AND PROMISE. 171 
 
 Before he was three years old he would often 
 sit gazing into the sky, and would say : "Wil- 
 lie's watching for the holy angels, and wait- 
 ing to hear them sing." 
 
 The lesson that his mother endeavored to 
 impress most deeply upon his young heart 
 was that of faith in God — faith in him for 
 all things, and that for Jesus' sake he would 
 bestow upon him all necessary good. 
 
 When he was four years old a terrible 
 shadow settled down upon him, and by the 
 time Willie was seven their home and every- 
 thing was taken from them, and they were 
 thrown upon the charity of friends. Soon 
 Willie's clothes and boots began to wear out, 
 but his mother was too poor to purchase new 
 ones. On one occasion he came to her, say- 
 ing : 
 
 " Mother, can't I have some new boots ? 
 My toes are all out of these. If I go out to 
 play or to run about, the snow gets into my 
 boots, and I am so cold !" 
 
 A tear filled his mother's eye when she 
 
172 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 answered, " Soon, Willie, I hope to give them 
 to you." 
 
 He waited patiently several days, until one 
 morning, as he stood at the window watching 
 the boys trundling their hoops, he sobbed : 
 
 " Oh, mother, it is too hard ! Can't I get 
 some boots anywhere ?" 
 
 " Yes, Willie, you can." 
 
 " I can ?" he eagerly exclaimed. " Where, 
 where ? Tell me, quick I" 
 
 " Do you not know, my son ?" replied his 
 mother. " Think, now." 
 
 Willie stood for a moment, as if in deep 
 thought, then, with a smile, looked up to his 
 mother's face, and said : 
 
 " Oh, I know ! God will give them, to 
 me, of course. Why didn't I think of that 
 before ? I'll go now and ask him." 
 
 He walked out of the parlor into his 
 mother's room. She quietly followed him, 
 and standing concealed from his view, saw 
 him kneel down ; covering his face with his 
 hands, he prayed : 
 
PRAYER AND PROMISE. 173 
 
 "OGod! father drinks; mother has no 
 money ; my feet get cold and wet. I want 
 some boots. Please send me a pair for Jesus' 
 sake." 
 
 This was all. He often repeated his piti- 
 ful little petition, and the best of all was, he 
 expected an answer to his prayer. 
 
 " They'll come, mother !" he would often 
 say, encouragingly — "they'll come when God 
 gets ready." I'll wait, for I know they will 
 come. 
 
 Within a week a lady who dearly loved 
 the child came to take him out walking. He 
 hesitated for a few moments, but soon de- 
 termined to go, and they started off. At 
 length the lady noticed his stockings peep- 
 ing out at the toes of his boots, when she 
 exclaimed : " Why, Willie, look at your feet ! 
 They will freeze. Why didn't you put on 
 something better ?" 
 
 " These are all I have, ma'am." 
 
 " All you have ! But why don't you have 
 a new pair ?" she inquired. 
 
174 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 " I will, just as soon as God sends them," 
 he confidently replied. 
 
 Tears rilled the lady's eyes, and with a 
 quivering lip she led him into a shoe-shop 
 near by, saying, " There, child ! select any 
 pair you please." The boots were soon 
 selected, examined to see that they fitted, and 
 put on his feet, and a more happy, thankful 
 boy never lived. 
 
 On his return he walked into the centre 
 of the room where his mother w T as sitting, 
 and said : 
 
 " Look, mother ! God has sent my boots ! 
 Mrs. Gray's money bought them, but God 
 heard me ask for them, and I suppose he 
 told Mrs. Gray to buy them for me." 
 
 There he stood, with an earnest, solemn 
 light in his eye, as though he were receiving 
 a new baptism of faith from heaven, then 
 quietly added : 
 
 "We must always remember how near 
 God is to us ;" and kneeling at his mother's 
 feet, he said, " Jesus, I thank you very much 
 
Willie's Boots. 
 
 Page 174. 
 
PRAYER AND PROMISE. 175 
 
 for iny new boots. Please make nie a. good 
 boy, and take care of mother." 
 
 Willie is now fourteen years of age, and is 
 a consistent member of the Church of Christ. 
 In all things he trusts his Saviour; every 
 desire of his heart he carries directly to God 
 and patiently waits the answer, and it always 
 comes. 
 
 Ask, and it shall be given you. 
 
 You see how Willie understood this prom- 
 ise. He knew it to mean just what it says. 
 That was what gave him such a strong faith. 
 And he meant just what he said when he 
 prayed. He was sincere, but not at all im- 
 patient, for he felt that God had his own 
 time, and that God was wiser than he. 
 
 Well, do you believe that when Mrs. 
 Gray gave Willie his boots God answered 
 his prayer ? I know you believe it, and so 
 do I, quite as much as if an angel from 
 heaven had told me so. Willie was right in 
 supposing that God put it into Mrs. Gray's 
 heart to give him the answer. She was God's 
 
176 AMONG. THE LILIES. 
 
 instrument. That is the way in which our 
 heavenly Father sends his gifts. You pray 
 for daily bread, and God sends your parents 
 as his messengers to bring you the answer. 
 Or you pray to be kept from temptation, and 
 he sends them to warn you against all that 
 is evil, and to guide you by their words and 
 their examples in the right path. 
 
 It occurs to me, just here, to ask whether 
 any of you have been God's messengers to 
 convey answers to prayer. Many of your 
 companions, whom you meet every day, 
 have, perhaps, been serious and thoughtful, 
 and anxious to have more light, and have 
 prayed to God, it may be, to lead them to 
 the Saviour ; now, if you are the disciples of 
 Christ, what have you ever done to enlighten 
 and encourage them? Have you been to 
 them God's messengers, and have you talked 
 to them about the love of Jesus, and told 
 them how they might be saved, and exhorted 
 them to put their trust in him ? If you have 
 prayed for them — for their conversion to 
 
PRAYER AND PROMISE. 177 
 
 Christ — what have you done toward ob- 
 taining an answer to your own prayer? 
 Have you, as God's messenger, tried to con- 
 vey to them the blessing you desire them to 
 have? 
 
 But suppose Willie had not received his 
 boots, what would he have said then ? Why, 
 he would probably have said that it was not 
 best for him to have them. The same faith 
 which led him to pray to God would have 
 led him to trust God's wisdom, for he had 
 often gone to his heavenly Father with the 
 petition, " Thy will be done." 
 
 I have spoken thus far of sincerity and 
 faith — the faith that trusts God, whether he 
 gives or withholds. 
 
 2. Those who pray sincerely to God are 
 
 never turned away empty. If he does not 
 
 send the answer in one form, he sends it in 
 
 another, and sometimes in ways not expected. 
 
 Remember, I have said two things here. The 
 
 first is that God never turns a deaf ear to 
 
 those who truly pray to him. It would be 
 12 
 
178 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 easy to relate many instances in proof of 
 this, but I have time to mention only one. 
 
 Two old shipmates met one day, and each 
 in a few words let out the principle of his 
 life. The one was well dressed, and looked as 
 though he w T as industrious and saving, the 
 other was shabby and thriftless in appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " Begging is a poor trade," said the thrift- 
 less-looking one ; " I am getting very tired 
 of it. 
 
 " Are you ?" said the other; " well, it is not 
 so with me. I find it a prosperous business, 
 and like it better every day." 
 
 " That is strange enough," was the an- 
 swer, " there are so many things against us. 
 First of all, one dares not go to the same 
 person too often." 
 
 "That's not my experience," said the other. 
 "I find that the oftener I go, the more readily 
 I am heard ; and if I don't get what I ask 
 for, I get something better instead of it." 
 
 "A lucky fellow you are," replied his 
 
PRAYER AMU PROMISE. 179 
 
 companion, " and in these times, too, when 
 people shake their heads and say they have 
 need to go begging themselves. They grow 
 tired of my story before they have half 
 heard it, and. think it false, nor would they 
 care much for me even if they knew it to be 
 true." 
 
 "That is never my experience," said the 
 other. " I go where riches abound, and where 
 there is enough, and more than enough, for 
 all who ask. I cannot tell my wants and 
 sorrows too often. I am told to come with 
 every one of them, and so deep is the in- 
 terest in my behalf that what I have to tell 
 is better known at the house where I beg 
 than I know it myself." 
 
 « Why, what house do you beg at ?" asked 
 the astonished beggar. 
 
 " At the gate of heaven," said his com- 
 panion. " And where do you beg ?" 
 
 " Oh, / beg of the world !" said he. 
 
 " Then no wonder you are tired of your 
 trade. Come and try my gate. If you 
 
180 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 make your stand at that, you will never be 
 disappointed, will never get an angry or 
 unkind word, and never, never be turned 
 empty away." 
 
 That is the manner in which God treats 
 all who sincerely pray to him. He is never 
 angry, never unkind and never turns them 
 empty away. Empty ? No, no ! So far 
 from it that he fills them with good. If 
 you who pray would count all the answers 
 to your prayers, you must count your daily 
 blessings, and among them all the good 
 words you speak, all the good thoughts 
 you cherish and all the good you do to 
 others. And if you do not sin as some 
 others do — if you do not steal or lie, if you 
 are not disobedient and willful and extremely 
 selfish — you must put all these among the 
 answers. 
 
 It is wonderful, at times, what forms these 
 answers take. 
 
 Some time ago a little ragged boy aged 
 nine years was secreted on an English 
 
PRAYER AND PROMISE. 181 
 
 steamer, with the intention of having him 
 go from Liverpool to New York without 
 paying his passage. On the fourth day 
 of the vovao'e he was discovered and carried 
 before the first mate, whose duty it was to 
 deal with such cases. When asked who 
 had brought him on board, the boy, who 
 had a beautiful sunny face, and eyes that 
 looked like the very mirror of truth, re- 
 plied that his father did it because he could 
 not afford to keep him, nor pay his passage 
 to Halifax, where he had an aunt with whom 
 he expected to live. But the mate did not 
 believe the story, in spite of the winning 
 face and truthful accents of the boy, and the 
 little fellow was roughly handled in conse- 
 quence. Day by day he was questioned 
 and requestionecl, but always told the same 
 story. 
 
 At last the mate, who thought the sailors 
 had smuggled him on board the vessel, and 
 was determined to find out the truth, if pos- 
 sible, in regard to the matter, seized the boy 
 
182 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 one day by the collar, and dragging him 
 forward, told him that unless he confessed 
 the truth in ten minutes from that time he 
 would hang him on the yard-arm. He then 
 made him sit down under it on the deck. 
 
 All around him were the passengers and 
 sailors of the mid-day watch, and in front 
 of him stood the inexorable mate, with his 
 chronometer in his hand, and the other 
 officers of the ship by his side. And there 
 w T as the boy with his pale face, his head 
 erect, his eyes bright with tears. When 
 eight minutes had fled the mate told him 
 he had but two minutes to live, and advised 
 him to speak the truth and save his life, 
 but he replied with the utmost simplicity 
 and sincerity by asking the mate if he might 
 pray. 
 
 The mate said nothing, only nodded his 
 head, looked very pale and trembled like a 
 reed. And there, all eyes turned on him, 
 this brave little fellow knelt with clasped 
 hands and repeated audibly the Lord's 
 
PRAYER AND PROMISE. 183 
 
 Prayer, and then asked the Saviour to take 
 him to heaven. 
 
 Then followed a wonderful scene. Sobs 
 broke from strong, hard men as the mate 
 sprang forward to the boy and clasped him 
 in his arms, and told him how sincerely 
 he now believed his story, and how glad 
 he was that he had been brave enough 
 to be willing to sacrifice his life for the 
 truth. 
 
 God protects from even greater perils all 
 who put their trust in him. He saves them 
 from presumptuous sins — open bold sins such 
 as many commit while they are young. 
 
 Then, too, when we are in doubt, and 
 hardly know what to do — when we are 
 tempted to do what conscience does not ex- 
 actly approve of — if we go to God, he will 
 deliver us from our doubts in answer to 
 prayer, and make the right way very plain 
 to us. 
 
 " I wish I knew just what to do about it !" 
 were the words that fell again and again 
 
184 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 from Dr. Barton's lips, for the matter to be 
 decided was a weighty one. 
 
 Each time the words were uttered the 
 eyes of a young girl who sat sewing near 
 by were raised wistfully toward the gentle- 
 man, till at last he noticed the earnest ex- 
 pression, and asked, " What is it, Pussy ? 
 What do you think about it?" 
 
 " I should go by papa's rule," she replied, 
 the crimson creeping into her cheek. 
 
 "And what may papa's rule be, little 
 Bessie ?" asked her uncle. 
 
 "Never to do anything, or to say any- 
 thing, or to go anywhere, when we cannot 
 ask God's blessing to rest upon us. He says 
 it saves a world of trouble, and is always a 
 sure test." 
 
 Dr. Barton was a worldly man who some- 
 times scoffed at the simple confidence of 
 pious souls, but no such feeling tempted 
 him now, and silently kissing the fair fore- 
 head of his niece, he left the room. 
 
 Uttered in weakness as it was, Bessie's 
 
PRAYER AND PROMISE. 185 
 
 lesson of trust proved the "word fitly 
 spoken," and not many months passed be- 
 fore her uncle, too, claimed this test as his 
 rule in life's duties and trials. 
 
 This leads me to say that there are some 
 things which God always grants in answer 
 to prayer because they are the things which 
 all want, and want always. 
 
 It is not certain that he will always send 
 new boots and new clothes when asked for, 
 neither is it certain that he will not, but it 
 is certain that he will give a new heart if 
 you ask for that, and equally certain that 
 he will give you strength for duty if you 
 ask for that. If you pray sincerely and 
 honestly, the answer will come at once. 
 
 Two little sisters, one seven and the other 
 five years old, were playing together, when 
 a little difference arose between them. Lucy, 
 the elder, finding that her anger was rising, 
 went out of the room, and soon returned 
 with all the angry feelings gone. How she 
 spent the minutes I need hardly tell you. 
 
186 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Lucy had not read the Bible in vain. She 
 knew the sweet and encouraging words, 
 " Ask, and it shall be given you," and many 
 times had she proved these words to be true 
 when fighting against her naturally hasty 
 temper. 
 
 Thus it is that God will deal with you all, 
 and always, if you will only trust him. He 
 will take away anger and envy from your 
 hearts, and the love of sin, and keep you 
 from temptation. 
 
 Are any of you afraid to trust God? 
 Sometimes I fear you are. It may be that 
 you have had strong convictions of duty, and 
 know that you ought to do all that God tells 
 you to do, and yet you are afraid to venture. 
 You feel that you are very weak and very 
 sinful, but why do you not go for strength 
 to that heavenly Father, that kind Redeemer, 
 who has said, " Ask, and it shall be given 
 you ?" 
 
^btbimcc % §i$n of Mobt< 
 
 187 
 
"If ye love me, keep my commandments" — John xiv. 15. 
 188 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LOVE AND OBEDIENCE. 
 
 TESUS, when speaking to his disciples, not 
 ^ long before he laid down his life for them, 
 said, "If ye love me, keep my command- 
 ments." They had taken supper together, 
 and after supper he had girded himself with 
 a towel and washed their feet. And then he 
 told them how they ought to love one another, 
 and how kind and condescending they ought 
 to be one to another. 
 
 The manner of Jesus, we may suppose, was 
 as tender as his words. There were many 
 things to make it so. He remembered the 
 cruel treatment he had received instead of 
 the glad welcome he had deserved. But 
 that was not the worst of it. One of those 
 who sat at table with him was about to be- 
 tray him. That was the hardest trial of all. 
 
 189 
 
190 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Though he kept many of his own secrets, 
 yet it seemed as if he could not keep this ; 
 so when the betrayer had fully made up 
 his mind to sell his Master to his enemies 
 for a few pieces of silver, Jesus told the sad 
 story, and whispered into the ear of John, 
 who was leaning upon his breast, the sign 
 by which he w T ould know who the betrayer 
 was. Then, when Judas had left the room, 
 we can easily imagine how earnest the other 
 disciples were in assuring Jesus of their love 
 for him. Simon Peter went so far, you re- 
 member, as to say, " I will lay down my life 
 for thy sake." Then said Jesus to these dis- 
 ciples, when they told him of their love — a 
 love so strong that it would outlive all per- 
 secutions, and even death itself — " If ye love 
 me, keep my commandments." 
 
 Love and obedience always go together: 
 that is what the Saviour means. 
 
 This is very plain. You know that with- 
 out obedience there can be no love. And 
 you know likewise that to obey is to do what 
 
LOVE AND OBEDIENCE. 191 
 
 you are told to do. This is what we call 
 loving indeed, or in deeds, in distinction from 
 loving in words. If I were to ask you, " Do 
 you love the Saviour ?" perhaps you would 
 answer, " Yes." But would it be true if you 
 were all the time thoughtlessly and carelessly 
 doing what the Saviour has told you not to 
 do, and omitting to do what he has com- 
 manded ? 
 
 " How much I love you, dear mamma !" 
 said little Mary Lee as she kissed her mo- 
 ther again and again. 
 
 " If my little daughter loves me so much, 
 I hope she will show it by being very good 
 and obedient to-day," said Mrs. Lee as she 
 went out of the room to attend to some home 
 duties, leaving Mary to amuse herself with 
 her playthings. 
 
 In the first place, Mary rocked her doll, 
 singing to it, " Hush, my dear ! lie still and 
 slumber," until she chose to consider dolly 
 fast asleep ; then she walked on tiptoe to 
 the place where her blocks were stored, and 
 
192 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 amused herself for a long time in building 
 churches with such tall steeples that it was 
 quite a wonder the blocks could be balanced 
 so nicely. 
 
 At length she was tired of this employ- 
 ment, and seated herself in her little chair 
 to rest. On looking around the room she 
 saw, for the first time, her mother's watch 
 lying on the table. Now, Mary had been 
 told that she was never, on any account, to 
 touch this watch. When she first saw it 
 she had no intention of doing so, but she 
 went up to the table, and thought she would 
 like to take it in her hand and put it to her 
 ear to hear it tick. Conscience, that little 
 voice within, told her she would be disobey- 
 ing her kind mother, but she hushed it by 
 saying to herself, " Mother doesn't want me 
 to touch her watch because she is afraid I 
 won't be careful of it, but I will. I know 
 I can play with it and not hurt it at all." 
 Thus persuading herself that she was not 
 doing very wrong, she took the watch in her 
 
LOVE AND OBEDIENCE. 193 
 
 hand, held it to her ear, and then laid it 
 down again very carefully. Then she 
 thought she would put the chain around 
 her neck and wear the watch as her mother 
 did. She was just viewing herself in the 
 glass, quite pleased that she looked so much 
 like a grown-up lady, when she heard some 
 one coming. In her haste to snatch off the 
 watch it slipped through her fingers and fell 
 with a crash to the floor, breaking the crystal 
 and otherwise injuring it. 
 
 Just then the door opened, and her mother 
 entered the room, and oh how grieved and 
 sorry she was when she saw what was done ! 
 " Can it be," she said, " that this is the little 
 girl who said she loved her mother so much 
 an hour ago ? Ah ! it was only love in 
 words ; if she had felt it in her heart, she 
 would not have disobeyed." 
 
 The story goes on to say that Mary cried 
 very much, and asked her mother's forgive- 
 ness, and seemed truly sorry for her fault. 
 
 Did this child really love her mother? 
 
 13 
 
194 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Yes, judging from her tears, I tliink she 
 did. But when guilty of disobedience she 
 certainly did not show her love. Then some- 
 thing else was uppermost in her mind, and 
 had greater power over her. She wanted to 
 gratify herself in a forbidden way, and she 
 began by questioning the wisdom of her 
 mother's command, and thought she could 
 prove that it was unwise by showing that no 
 harm would come from her disobedience. 
 But harm did come, and would have come 
 had she not let the watch fall on the floor — 
 harm to her own conscience, w T hich she would 
 have wounded ; harm to her truthfulness, for 
 she would have had something to conceal. 
 There would have been a secret in her soul 
 which would have made her unhappy. I 
 believe Mary loved her mother, and that her 
 words were not altogether unmeaning words, 
 but I believe too that just then she thought 
 more of the indulgence of her own selfish 
 will than she did of duty to her mother. I 
 do not say there can be no true love where 
 
LOVE AND OBEDIENCE. 195 
 
 there is occasional disobedience, because I 
 remember that the loving Peter denied his 
 Master, and that the best of men do wrong 
 sometimes, but I say the more obedient we 
 are, the more we love, and that in disobedi- 
 ence there is no love whatever. The Apostle 
 John says, " My little children, let us not 
 love in word, neither in tongue ; but in deed 
 and in truth." That is what Jesus means 
 when he says, " If ye love me, keep my com- 
 mandments." 
 
 The obedience of love is always cheerful. 
 It does not stop to ask questions or utter 
 complaints. If you see two boys going on 
 errands, the one sulky and slow, the other, 
 with a smile upon his face, skipping along 
 as if his heart was full of joy, you need not 
 be told which loves duty the most. So we 
 can always measure our love for the Saviour 
 by the readiness and promptness with which 
 we obey. The work which love does is 
 always easy, pleasant work. 
 
 One morning a young girl was busy at 
 
196 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 the ironing-table, smoothing the towels and 
 stockings ; when asked whether it was not 
 hard work for her little arms, a look like 
 sunshine came into her face as she said 
 softly, " It isn't hard work when I do it for 
 mother." Thus it is that love makes labor 
 sweet. " It isn't hard when I do it for mo- 
 ther." And so the Christian says, " It isn't 
 hard when I do it for the blessed Saviour. 
 Love makes his yoke easy and his burden 
 light." 
 
 Not long since, a company of boys were 
 playing very earnestly. One in particular 
 seemed to be the leader of their sports, and 
 was proposing a new game and giving in- 
 structions in regard to it. His whole heart 
 seemed to be in the thing. 
 
 At this moment a window was thrown 
 open in a house near by, and a sweet, gentle 
 voice called, 
 
 " Charlie, your father wants you." 
 
 The window at once closed, and that mo- 
 ther — for it was her voice — immediately 
 
LOVE AND OBEDIENCE. 197 
 
 withdrew without even stopping to see 
 whether Charlie heard. Her confidence in 
 his obedience was great. 
 
 The boy was so busy that it seemed really 
 doubtful whether that quiet voice would 
 reach his ear. Bat the words had hardly 
 escaped the mother's lips when everything 
 was dropped ; the other boys were left at 
 their play, and Charlie was soon within- 
 doors. Do you doubt whether Charlie loved 
 his mother? Yes. that is the wav. The 
 obedience of love is prompt and cheerful, 
 does not wait to be spoken to the second 
 time, but runs at the first call. 
 
 " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ?" 
 was the question of Paul when his first love 
 went out toward the Saviour. And as his 
 love grew, so did his desire to perform the 
 will of his divine Master. He went over 
 dangerous seas, he was beaten with rods, he 
 was cast into prison and bound with chains, 
 all because he loved Christ. And he suffered 
 all just as cheerfully as you would fling down 
 
198 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 your playthings at your father's or mother's 
 call. 
 
 Love carries burdens, but they are always 
 light. Remember that. If you think you 
 love the Saviour, and want to know how 
 much you love him, ask yourself whether 
 the duties he tells you to perform are pleas- 
 ant duties ; whether you would rather per- 
 form them than not; whether it always 
 makes you glad to be able to do something 
 for him. 
 
 Then there is another criterion of love : 
 it begets self-denial. 
 
 One of the commands of Christ requires 
 us to deny ourselves. The more we deny 
 ourselves, the more we make our wills subject 
 to his will, the more manifest will it be that 
 we love him. This is self-denial — to give up 
 our own wishes for the wishes of another. 
 
 Suppose you and your brother or sister 
 want the same thing, and only one can have 
 it ; if you resign your right to it, and say, 
 Take it, brother or sister, as the case may 
 
LOVE AND OBEDIENCE. 199 
 
 be, you deny yourself. That is Christ-like. 
 That is showing our love for Christ, because 
 it is doing as he did. 
 
 There are many ways in which this self- 
 denial may be shown. It may enter into 
 your sports as well as into more serious mat- 
 ters, and it is just as beautiful in one place 
 as in another. The other day I read of a 
 boy and a girl who used to play a great deal 
 together. They both learned to love the 
 Saviour. On one occasion the boy said to 
 his mother, " Mother, I know that Emma is 
 a Christian." 
 
 " What makes you think so ?" 
 
 " Because, mother, she plays like a Chris- 
 tian/' 
 
 " Plays like a Christian ?" said the mother, 
 to whom the expression sounded a little odd. 
 
 " Yes," replied the child. " She used to 
 be selfish, but now she don't get angry if you 
 take everything she's got." 
 
 Sometimes our selfish feelings interfere 
 with our sense of duty, and it is not without 
 
200 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 a struggle that we are able to tell whether 
 we love self or the Saviour most. When 
 Jesus was on the earth there was a rich 
 young man who seemed anxious to be his 
 disciple; after relating all the good things 
 he had done, he asked, " What lack I yet?" 
 He was told to sell all that he had and give 
 the money to the poor, but his love for the 
 Saviour was not strong enough for that. 
 
 Here is another example in which love 
 triumphed, though not without a struggle : 
 
 There was a boy of seven or thereabouts 
 who, it was hoped, had become a real fol- 
 lower of Christ, for from being willful and 
 disobedient he had grown lamb-like in his 
 temper and conduct. One day, as he stood 
 at his mother's side, he said that he loved 
 the Saviour so much that he would give him 
 anything. 
 
 " Will you give him your gold guinea ?" 
 asked his mother. He looked earnestly into 
 her face for a moment, and his eye fell. He 
 slowly crept behind her chair, then stole to 
 
LOVE AXD OBEDIENCE. 201 
 
 the open window, then down stairs, without 
 saying a word. She knew he thought much 
 of his beautiful gold guinea, which was a coin 
 worth five dollars in our money. Was he 
 ready to part with his little " all" for Christ's 
 sake? It was a hard question. 
 
 Two days passed away, and his mother 
 was afraid Herman had forgotten it. But 
 that evening he came to her and said with a 
 sweet seriousness, " Mother, I give my guinea 
 to the Lord Jesus ;" and as he slipped it into 
 her hand, he added, " I was not ready when 
 you first asked me, but I am now." 
 
 " Not ready at first, but ready now :" that 
 is the history of many a struggle in older 
 disciples between self-will and Christ's will. 
 
 A little girl who loved her Saviour very 
 much came to her pastor with eighteen shill- 
 ings for a missionary society. 
 
 " How did you get so much ? is it all your 
 own ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I earned it." 
 
 " But how, Mary ? you are so poor." 
 
202 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 " Please, sir, when I thought how Jesus 
 had died for me I wanted to do something 
 for him, and I had heard how money was 
 wanted to send the good news out to the 
 heathen, and as I had no money of my own, 
 I earned this by collecting rain water and 
 selling it to the washerwomen for a half 
 a penny a bucket; that is how I got the 
 money, sir." 
 
 There was no struggle here. It came as 
 easily as the rain itself comes down from 
 the clouds, or as the sunshine comes when 
 the day is breaking. But if there be a 
 struggle, it matters not, so long as there is a 
 victory too. There is always more or less 
 fighting before we conquer self. And there 
 is one pleasant, encouraging thought about 
 it — the longer we fight, the more easily we 
 win. 
 
 Then, again, love does not always accom- 
 plish what it attempts or desires. You 
 would like to do much for the Saviour, it 
 may be, which you have not the power to 
 
LOVE AND OBEDIENCE. 203 
 
 do. You would like to see all the children 
 in the world taught, as you are, to read and 
 understand God's holy word, and perhaps 
 you would be willing to give all that you 
 possess if this could only be. But all your 
 self-denial would not accomplish this. So 
 you might attempt many things, and not 
 succeed to your liking. Your own will may 
 not yield in all things to Christ's will as 
 readily as you desire. Your own evil tem- 
 pers may rise when you think they are 
 entirely subdued. You remember how it 
 was with that woman who washed the 
 Saviour's feet with her tears and wiped 
 them with her hair. Jesus said of her, 
 " She has done what she could." If it had 
 been in her power, she would have done 
 much more, but her loving Lord took the 
 will for the deed, as he does in all cases 
 where honest effort and desire come short 
 of the mark. 
 
 " I must not forget those stockings ; there's 
 a basketful this week." 
 
204 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Jennie's mother said this in a wearied 
 way. The little girl was playing in her 
 room, and began to think about helping. 
 
 " Where are they ?" she asked. 
 
 "In the sitting-room," the mother an- 
 swered, and thought no more about it. 
 
 An hour later she went down stairs. 
 There sat Jennie in the large arm-chair by 
 the open window, the basket on the table 
 before her, and her little fingers very busy. 
 
 "Mother," she said, looking up with a 
 bright smile, " you had twelve pair of stock- 
 ings, and I've done six of them." 
 
 Jennie had given up a whole hour's play 
 to help and relieve her mother, but she 
 was a very little girl, and she had made a 
 mistake. She sewed the holes over and over. 
 And as she meant to do her best, the stitches 
 were close and tight. Her mother knew it 
 would be at least half an hour's work to rip 
 them out, but she would not disappoint the 
 loving heart by letting her know she had 
 not fully succeeded. She said only, " "Well, 
 
LOVE AND OBEDIENCE. 205 
 
 you're a dear, good little girl, and now you 
 may run out and play." 
 
 Away went Jennie, very happy in the 
 thought that she had helped and pleased 
 her mother. And she had, for the kindness 
 and love she had shown were more precious 
 to that mother's heart than gold, and light- 
 ened her care. Pleasant thoughts kept her 
 company and made her needle move faster. 
 
 All of us, both little folks and grown 
 folks, are liable to make mistakes, even when 
 we try to do right. But the love of Christ 
 is only shadowed forth faintly by that mo- 
 ther's love. He too takes the will for the 
 deed, counts whatever is done out of love as 
 done to him, and sees that no true effort is 
 lost, but makes it do good some time, in some 
 way, whether we see it or not. 
 
 Love is not easily disheartened, because it 
 does not trouble itself with the question 
 whether it is much or little that is done, but 
 works right on, doing all the while, whether 
 it be little or much. The little primrose that 
 
206 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 is growing in my room looks as happy as if 
 it were a sunflower. Let your love not com- 
 plain because it cannot do more. Let it do 
 well whatever it finds to do. 
 
 " Suppose the little cowslip 
 
 Should hang its golden cup, 
 And say, ' I'm such a tiny flower 
 
 I'd better not grow up ;' 
 How many a weary traveler 
 
 Would miss its fragrant smell ! 
 How many a little child would grieve 
 
 To miss it from the dell ! 
 
 " Suppose the glistening dew-drop 
 
 Upon the grass should say, 
 ' What can a little dew-drop do? 
 
 I'd better roll away ;' 
 The blade on which it rested, 
 
 Before the day was done, 
 
 Without a drop to moisten it, 
 
 Would wither in the sun. 
 
 " Suppose the little breezes, 
 
 Upon a summer's day, 
 Should think themselves too small to cool 
 
 The traveler on his way ; 
 Who would not miss the smallest 
 
 And softest ones that blow, 
 And think they made a great mistake 
 
 If they were talking so ? 
 
LOVE AND OBEDIENCE. 207 
 
 " How many deeds of kindness 
 
 A little child may do, 
 Although he has so little strength 
 
 And little wisdom too ! 
 It wants a loving spirit, 
 
 Much more than strength, to prove 
 How many things a child can do 
 
 For Jesus by his love." 
 
 Carry with you in your hearts, then, the 
 Saviour's words : " If ye love me, keep my 
 commandments." 
 
14 209 
 
" Behold, a sower went forth to sow." — Matt. xiii. 3. 
 210 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 SEED-SOWING. 
 
 T\7HEX Jesus gave to the people the para- 
 ble of the sower he was seated in a 
 boat that was floating on the Sea of Galilee. 
 The boat lay quite near the shore, while all 
 along the beach and up the banks stood the 
 many people who had come to hear him. 
 
 In his discourse on that occasion he 
 represented the world as a field containing 
 four kinds of ground. The first was the 
 footpath that crossed the field, rendered so 
 hard by the tread of those who were con- 
 tinually walking on it, that the scattered 
 grain which happened to fall upon it could 
 not take root, and was either trodden to 
 pieces or picked up by the birds. Then the 
 rock that was harder still. Then the places 
 
 that were all covered with thorns. And 
 
 211 
 
212 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 then the good, mellow soil, in which the seed 
 would be sure to take root and grow. 
 
 By the sower he meant himself and every 
 one who teaches others the truth as he did ; 
 by the seed he meant the gospel ; and by 
 the field, with its four kinds of ground, he 
 meant the hearts of men. 
 
 You have perhaps seen the farmer, after 
 the ground has been ploughed and harrowed, 
 walking along from one end of the field 
 to the other, thrusting his hand into the bag 
 of grain that hangs from his shoulder, and 
 flinging it, now to the right and then to the 
 left, keeping time with his regular, measured 
 step. It is a sight we all love, because it 
 reminds us of the golden harvest in which 
 our heavenly Father gives his earthly chil- 
 dren their daily bread. 
 
 We will suppose it to be the early spring- 
 time, when the trees are putting on new 
 leaves and blossoms, and the grass is making 
 the meadows look green again, after the snow 
 and cold of winter have passed away. The 
 
SEED-SOWING. 213 
 
 streams that were ice-bound have been let 
 loose once more, and are as happy as streams 
 can be. The birds are singing, and begin to 
 think seriously of building their nests, if 
 they have not already commenced. 
 
 After the seed is all sown and the harrow 
 has covered it with the mellow, warm earth, 
 you see the birds hopping along by the 
 fences and picking up the kernels which the 
 harrow has not hidden under the ground. 
 In a few days the grain begins to sprout and 
 the brown soil looks as if some one had 
 thrown upon it a rich carpet more beautiful 
 than silk or velvet. But soon you notice 
 patches of weeds, growing so thickly that the 
 product of the good seed dies before it ripens, 
 and you see here and there spots that look 
 yellow and sickly, and when you examine 
 these spots you find only a thin layer of soil, 
 with a hard rock beneath. 
 
 Now, I wonder which kind of ground your 
 heart is like ? If you never learn anything 
 good, it is like the beaten footpath. If you 
 
214 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 resolve to do right, and actually begin, and 
 then forget all your good resolutions, it is 
 like the thin soil upon the hard rock. If 
 you give way to temptation, and allow evil 
 thoughts to overcome those that are pure, it 
 is like the places covered with thorns. If 
 you love the truth — love to hear it and love 
 to practice it — why, then your heart is like 
 the good ground that brings forth thirty, 
 sixty or a hundred fold. 
 
 Suppose your own heart to be a garden 
 in which the Saviour has scattered precious 
 seed. In this one garden — this single heart 
 of yours — there may be rocks and thorns 
 and hard footpaths and good, rich soil. And 
 you have been appointed to take care of this 
 garden. How are you to manage it, then, so 
 that the good seed will grow in every part ? 
 Listen to a few simple rules. 
 
 First, the rocks must be broken and taken 
 away ; the hard places in your heart which 
 will not allow the seed to grow must be soft- 
 ened and mellowed. In the heart of the 
 
SEED-SOWIXG. 215 
 
 burning mountain the rocks are sometimes 
 melted and flow down into the valley, and 
 there make a rich, fruitful soil. So when 
 your heart is melted by the love of Jesus, 
 all good and lovely things will grow there. 
 
 I have a friend who has a beautiful lawn 
 in front of his house, spreading into many 
 acres. Jutting out from the very centre of 
 this lawn, a few years ago, was a huge rock 
 covered with a thin layer of earth, on which 
 the grass grew shyly. Not liking this, and 
 determined that the grass should have fair 
 play, my friend set men at work, and they 
 drilled the rock and blasted it, and after 
 much labor and great expense the rock was 
 carted away and soil was put in its place. 
 Now you may see a large tree growing there, 
 with flower beds, and grass that is strong and 
 resolute because its roots are properly nour- 
 ished. You cannot, without help, break the 
 rock that is in your heart, but the Saviour 
 will do it for you if you ask and do not 
 hinder him. Then you will not only hear 
 
 
216 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 his words, but you will obey them, and they 
 will bloom into words just like his — words 
 of love, words of gentleness ; then these 
 words, like the blossoms of the tree, will 
 grow into something else — fruit; they will 
 become loving, Christ-like deeds. 
 
 But besides this, you must not rest until 
 the thorns are all rooted out. All feelings 
 and thoughts that injure the truth when it 
 is beginning to grow in your soul must be 
 pulled up and thrown away. 
 
 You have your cares and pleasures. You 
 are troubled about many things, are out of 
 humor many times a day, perhaps, and thus 
 show that you are troubled. The young 
 have their own anxieties, crosses, disappoint- 
 ments, as well as those who are older. The 
 love of fun is not always innocent. Some- 
 times you are tempted to tantalize others, or 
 to do them wrong in some other way, in 
 order to have a good hearty laugh at their 
 expense. All such unkind and impatient 
 feelings and evil thoughts will certainly de- 
 
SEED-SO WIXG. 217 
 
 stroy the precious seed if you allow them to 
 remain. So you must begiu this iveed-pull- 
 ing at once, and continue it daily, if you 
 would not have the truth crowded out of 
 your mind. 
 
 When I was a boy, says one who tells the 
 story, I had a Sunday-school teacher who 
 was always ready to drop a word in season. 
 Xo matter what we were talking about at 
 first, it seemed to be the easiest thing in the 
 world for her to turn my thoughts Christ- 
 ward. She would find sermons in stones, 
 and in almost everything else. They were 
 not long, tiresome sermons, but just a word 
 that would keep me thinking till the next 
 time I met her. 
 
 I remember one vacation she went away 
 for a few weeks. When she came back, I 
 ran to see her. After a pleasant talk, she 
 said, just as I started for home, " Well, 
 Charlie, what have you been doing the past 
 week?" 
 
 " Pulling weeds for father," I answered. 
 
 
218 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 " Pulling weeds ? That is good business/' 
 said she, with a smile ; " but I hope those 
 you pulled were not all for father. You 
 have a garden of your own, you know, and 
 the weeds are apt to grow there too." 
 
 "A garden of my own?" I questioned, 
 not thinking at first what she meant. 
 
 " Yes, and it is here," she said, touching 
 her side with her finger. " The enemy that 
 sowed them is the evil one. Have you 
 pulled up the weeds there ? It is hard work, 
 Charlie — harder than pulling for father — but 
 Christ will help you, and make it all easy." 
 
 Day after day, as I kept about my tasks, 
 I thought sadly of the weeds in the garden 
 of my heart, and I asked Christ to root them 
 out by his gracious power. 
 
 You know how it is in an ordinary gar- 
 den — how much faster the weeds grow than 
 anything else if you do not disturb them. 
 Last summer, when the ground was dry, and 
 the beds were all clean, and I thought the 
 tomatoes and corn and other useful plants 
 
SEED-SOWING. 219 
 
 had got rid of all their enemies, and had 
 nothing to do but to grow, I longed for a 
 plentiful shower, because I knew they were 
 thirsty, and could not grow as they should 
 until the clouds had sprinkled the rain upon 
 them. Well, one night the shower came, 
 and went trickling through the soil into 
 every little open plant-mouth that was gasp- 
 ing for want of drink. Early the next 
 morning I looked out of the window, and 
 what do you think I saw ? Every bed that 
 had been scraped with the hoe until nothing 
 seemed left but what was useful was thickly 
 covered with young weeds that had only 
 been waiting for the rain to soften the earth 
 to creep out of their hiding-places. I could 
 not pull them that day, nor the next, and by 
 the time I was ready to root them out they 
 had grown above everything else. Yes, and 
 in growing they had eaten nearly all the fat- 
 ness of the soil, and kept the useful plants 
 small and weak. Pull the weeds when they 
 are young. Do not allow a single wrong 
 
220 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 feeling or thought to remain a moment in 
 your soul. 
 
 You want me to tell you why the weeds 
 grow more easily and rapidly than the good 
 seed — why wrong feelings and thoughts are 
 so strong and right ones so weak. It is 
 because the weeds are at home in the soul, 
 and the good seed is not. The weeds will 
 grow without any planting, but the good 
 seed must be sown and watched and pro- 
 tected. Bad tempers grow naturally : it is 
 the good on§s that require planting and 
 watchfulness and labor. 
 
 If you would have a profitable garden, 
 where all that is useful and beautiful will 
 grow luxuriantly, you must root out the 
 weeds and have good soil in the place of the 
 rocks. Remember this lesson. 
 
 Remember still another thing. Be very 
 careful what sort of seed you plant. 
 
 You are planting every day — good seed 
 and bad, perhaps, for it would be a wonder 
 indeed if the bad were never mixed with the 
 
SEED-SOWING. 221 
 
 good. I once saw a wheat-field with a few 
 Canada thistles in it, scattered here and 
 there — so few that they did not attract the 
 notice of the owner of the field ; wheat and 
 thistles were cut down together, and sown 
 together the next year, and the new crop of 
 wheat was almost destroyed. 
 
 Here is a little heart-garden ; let us see 
 what has been planted there. 
 
 Bessie had just received a present of a 
 new book, and she eagerly opened it to look 
 at the first picture. It was the picture of a 
 boy sitting by the side of a stream and 
 throwing seeds into the water. 
 
 "I wonder what this picture is about?" 
 said she. " Why does the boy throw seeds 
 into the water ?" 
 
 " Oh, I know," said her brother, who had 
 been looking at the book ; " he is sowing the 
 seeds of water-lilies." 
 
 " But how small the seeds look !" said Bes- 
 sie. " It seems strange that such large plants 
 should grow from such small things." 
 
222 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 "You are sowing such tiny seeds every 
 day, Bessie, and they will come up large 
 strong plants after a while," said her father. 
 
 " Oh no, father, I have not planted any 
 seeds for a long time." 
 
 " But I have seen my daughter planting 
 the seeds of both weeds and flowers since 
 morning/' 
 
 Bessie looked puzzled, and her father 
 smiled and said : " I will tell you what I 
 mean. When you laid aside that interesting 
 book and attended to what your mother 
 wished done, you were sowing seeds of kind- 
 ness and love. When you broke the dish 
 that you knew your mother valued, and 
 came instantly and told her, you were sow- 
 ing the seeds of truth. When you took the 
 cup of cold water to the poor woman at the 
 gate, you were sowing seeds of mercy. These 
 are all beautiful flowers, Bessie. And I hope 
 you have been planting the great tree of love 
 to God, and that you will tend and watch it 
 until its branches reach the skies." 
 
SEED-SOWING. 223 
 
 " And the weeds, father ?" inquired Bessie. 
 
 " When you were impatient with baby, 
 you sowed the seeds of ill-temper. When 
 you waited some time after your mother 
 called you, you sowed disobedience and 
 selfishness. These are all noxious weeds. 
 Pull them up. Do not let them grow in 
 your garden." 
 
 That was excellent advice from a father 
 to a daughter who seemed striving to have 
 her heart-garden in the best possible order. 
 Every one has to eat of the fruit of his own 
 doings, and if nothing comes from his plant- 
 ing but impatience and anger and self-will, 
 he has very lean fare. 
 
 Then we are to remember that the garden 
 we cultivate is for others as well as ourselves. 
 
 You love to exhibit the sweet flowers that 
 line the garden-paths or grow in beds, and 
 to cull from them a nosegay for the friend 
 who admires their beauty. A story is told 
 of three children who were rambling on a 
 beautiful spring clay over the fields, and 
 
224 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 busied themselves in gathering the flowers 
 that pleased them most. One selected the 
 violet as the first-born child of spring and 
 the emblem of modesty. Another selected 
 the lily as the emblem of innocence and of 
 a pure heart. The third culled the little 
 blue forget-me-not as the emblem of gentle- 
 ness and love. And when they all met 
 again they wreathed their flowers into two 
 garlands — love, innocence and modesty 
 twined together — and then crowned their 
 parents with these gifts of their affection. 
 The mother was heard to say, " A garland 
 like this is more splendid than the diadem 
 of a king." 
 
 There is no telling what bright and beau- 
 tiful things we may cause to grow along the 
 pathway of others, which will help to make 
 them good and glad and great, if we only 
 plant the right kind of seed. 
 
 A mother once planted a kiss, and there 
 grew out of it an artist. It happened thus : 
 A little boy named Benjamin West was set 
 
SEED-SOWWG. *■ 225 
 
 to watch a "baby that was asleep in a cradle. 
 He looked at it kindly, and felt pleased to 
 see it smile in its sleep, and the sweet smile, 
 or something else, made him wish that he 
 could draw a picture of the baby. Seeing 
 a piece of paper on a table, with pen and 
 ink, he tried what he could do. When his 
 mother came in he begged her not to be 
 angry with him for touching the pen, ink 
 and paper, and then showed her the picture 
 he had made. His mother saw the baby's 
 likeness, and was so much pleased that she 
 kissed her little boy. Then he said that if 
 she liked it he would make a picture of some 
 flowers she held in her hand. So he went 
 on from that time, trying to do better and 
 better, until he became one of the best paint- 
 ers in the world. In after life he said that 
 it was this kiss from his mother that made 
 him an artist. 
 
 This mother did not imagine what the 
 fruit of that kiss would be. Thus the good 
 seeds we sow — the pleasant smiles, the kind 
 
 15 
 
226 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 words, the generous deeds — are growing in 
 the hearts and lives of others, making them 
 better and happier, whilst we do not dream 
 that they are growing at all. This should 
 prompt you always to speak kindly and act 
 nobly, for in the hearts around you your 
 words and deeds will surely fall and take 
 root. 
 
 Some travelers sailing up one of the great 
 rivers of America observed along the coast, 
 at a distance of many miles, as they sup- 
 posed, from human habitations, vines of a 
 choice character in full fruit. The explana- 
 tion of the mystery was this : One person 
 living by the side of the river took great 
 pains with the cultivation of his vines, and 
 the twigs and cuttings which he threw away 
 had been carried down the stream, and taking 
 root where they lodged, had been the means 
 of providing these luscious clusters for the 
 weary travelers. So it is with good words 
 and deeds. They take root, often, far away 
 from the spot where they were spoken and 
 
SEED-SO WIXG. 227 
 
 performed, like the words and deeds of the 
 Saviour that are now bearing rich fruit, on 
 which the souls of men are feeding all over 
 the world. 
 
 I have said that you must be very careful 
 what sort of seed you plant, both for your 
 own sake and the sake of others. But there 
 is another reason. The fruit will alwavs be 
 like the seed. A bramble-bush never yet 
 produced figs or grapes. If you sow indus- 
 try, it will not produce want, and if you sow 
 idleness, it will not produce learning or 
 wealth or skill, or anything else that is de- 
 sirable. 
 
 So two boys found it who were appren- 
 tices in a carpenter's shop. One determined 
 to make himself a thorough workman ; the 
 other had no thought or purpose of the kind. 
 One read and studied books that would help 
 him understand the principles of his trade, 
 and spent his evenings at home in this way. 
 The other liked fun best. "Come," he 
 often said to his shopmate ; " leave your old 
 
228 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 books and go with us. What's the use of 
 all this reading ?" 
 
 " If I waste these golden moments," was 
 the answer, " I shall lose what I can never 
 make up." 
 
 While the boys were still apprentices an 
 offer of two thousand dollars appeared in the 
 newspapers for the best plan of a State-house 
 to be built in one of the Eastern States. 
 The studious boy saw the advertisement, and 
 determined to try for the prize. After care- 
 ful study he drew out his plans and sent 
 them to the committee. In about a week 
 afterward a gentleman arrived at the car- 
 penter's shop, and inquired if an architect 
 by the name of Washington Wilberforce 
 lived there. 
 
 " No," said the carpenter ; " there is no 
 architect here, but I have an apprentice by 
 that name." 
 
 " Let me see him," said the gentleman. 
 
 The young man was summoned, and in- 
 formed that his plan had been accepted, and 
 
SEED-SOWING. 229 
 
 that the two thousand dollars were his. The 
 gentleman then said that the boy must put 
 up the building, and his employer was so 
 proud of his success that he willingly gave 
 him his time and let him go. This studi- 
 ous young carpenter became one of the first 
 architects in our country. 
 
 I have spoken of kind tempers and gentle, 
 loving words as seed that will be sure to pro- 
 duce good fruit. That you understand, for 
 you have seen the fruit and tasted it, and, 
 I trust, have planted some of the seed too. 
 But what would you think of planting a 
 gold dollar? Would that grow and bear 
 fruit just as certainly as the seed of the 
 apple or the pear? Willie Mason once 
 asked that question, and was told that his 
 gold dollar would be sure to grow if he only 
 planted it right. So without waiting for 
 any explanation, he planted it in the gar- 
 den, and wondered whether it would be a 
 large tree or only a little bush, but, whether 
 tree or bush, he expected that bright gold 
 
230 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 dollars would hang on all the branches. He 
 did not study much that day, for he kept 
 thinking of his golden crop, and how much 
 it would enable him to do for his father and 
 mother, as well as for his sisters and himself, 
 and at night he dreamed about it. Day 
 after day he watered the golden seed, and at 
 length, becoming somewhat impatient, he 
 scratched away the ground to see whether it 
 had sprouted, when a merry laugh from the 
 window revealed to him his mistake. He 
 had not planted his gold dollar right. 
 
 That afternoon Willie went with his mo- 
 ther to see poor Biddy, whose two boys were 
 not going to school because she could not 
 purchase the books they needed. Then Wil- 
 lie began to perceive where he might plant 
 his money so that it would grow and bear 
 the best kind of fruit. On their way home 
 he and his mother talked pleasantly about 
 the matter, and Willie laughed at himself 
 when he thought how foolish he had been 
 to suppose that by hiding his money in 
 
SEEDS® WING. 231 
 
 the earth it would multiply or increase iu 
 value. 
 
 I cannot tell you how gladly the books 
 which he purchased were received by Biddy 
 and her sons, or of the good they did, but 
 can assure you that "Willie was far happier 
 than he would have been if the first plant- 
 ing had yielded him what he expected, and 
 the second one had been un thought of. 
 
 Thus you are planting when you give your 
 money to send the gospel to those who have 
 it not, or when in any way you help the 
 needy, whether it be by sending them books 
 or bread. 
 
 Root out the weeds, break the rock and 
 sow the precious seed of love to God and 
 man. This is your work, hard in itself, but 
 easy when the Saviour's hand is upon yours 
 to guide you in its performance — easy when 
 the seed has been scattered in your own soul 
 by the Saviour himself, and is growing there 
 into faith and meekness and forbearance, and 
 all beautiful tempers. 
 
232 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Let me say here that the seed must grow 
 in ) r our own soul and life before you can 
 plant it in the souls and lives of others. You 
 must be kind and gentle and believing be-, 
 fore you can make others so. 
 
 The seed that Jesus is scattering whenever 
 you read or hear his word, whenever you 
 listen to those who would lead you to him, 
 whenever you see a life that is fall of purity 
 and love, — where does it fall when it enters 
 your mind ? among the weeds ? or on the. 
 rock? or in good ground where it will be 
 sure to take root and grow ? You have 
 heard of God's love to you ; you see it when 
 you rise in the morning and when you lie 
 down at night. You see it in the stars and 
 in the flowers, and you see it in the cross on 
 which the Saviour died. This is the sowing. 
 And oh what large and perfect fruit it 
 ought to yield ! God so loved you that he 
 sent his Son to save you. Do not allow seed 
 like that to be choked by the love of the 
 world — by the love of sin. And if it has 
 
SEED-SOWING. 233 
 
 begun to grow, do not let it become scorched 
 and withered because your feeling is no 
 deeper than the sand that hardly covers the 
 solid rock beneath. With such culture as 
 you have had you ought to be the warm 
 friend of Jesus now. If this fruit of his 
 sowing has not appeared, it must be that the 
 seed has fallen upon the rock or among the 
 thorns. 
 
 Watch over this seed ; pray over it ; take 
 good care of it, or it will perish, and you 
 will perish too. 
 
 " Work with fervor, work with patience, 
 In the garden of thy heart; 
 Then the seeds of love and kindness 
 Into luscious fruit will start. 
 
 " Then sweet words, and noble doing, 
 Sown in youth's and childhood's day, 
 Rooted by Christ's tender wooing, 
 "Will keep noxious weeds away." 
 
tnxon s 
 
 \omt. 
 
"Now when Jesus was in Bethany, in the house of Simon the 
 leper, there came unto him a woman having an alabaster box of very 
 precious ointment, and poured it on his head as he sat at meat." — 
 Matt. xxvi. 6, 7. 
 236 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 
 
 "DETHANY was a village about two miles 
 ^ from Jerusalem, just over the Mount of 
 Olives, and on the way to Jericho. Here 
 Martha and Mary dwelt with their brother 
 Lazarus, whom Jesus raised from the dead. 
 It was a pleasant walk from Jerusalem to 
 Bethany, and very often the Saviour went 
 there to visit the friends whom he loved so 
 dearly. 
 
 Other friends he also had in this retired 
 spot, among whom was a man named Simon, 
 once a leper, whom Jesus, it may be, had 
 cured. This Simon invited Jesus to supper 
 one day, and we are told that Lazarus and 
 his sisters were also there. They were proba- 
 bly relatives of Simon, or at least very inti- 
 mate acquaintances, for Martha, the busy 
 
 237 
 
238 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 housekeeper of her brother's small family, 
 waited on the guests. Mary, too, was there, 
 and brought a vase of alabaster full of costly 
 perfume. The vase itself was beautiful, for 
 it was made of a beautiful stone finer than 
 marble, though not unlike it, often of a 
 snowy whiteness, through which the light 
 shines when you hold it up to a candle or 
 the sun. Not long ago I was in a mountain 
 cave, and saw hanging from the roof long 
 cones that looked like immense icicles, and 
 when we held our torches behind them they 
 became as bright as the moon. Out of such 
 material was the box formed in which Mary 
 carried the precious ointment. 
 
 What did Mary do with the ointment? 
 Matthew says she poured it on the head of 
 Jesus, and John says that she also anointed 
 his feet with it, and then wiped them with 
 her hair. Oh how she loved ! But did she 
 not do more than her love required her to 
 do? Some who were present thought that 
 to spend so much money for such a purpose 
 
Stalactites in the Cave. 
 
 Page 239. 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 239 
 
 was a great waste. But Jesus thought other- 
 wise, and declared that in doing all she 
 could to show her love for him Mary had 
 acted wisely and well. 
 
 The lesson I want you to learn now is this. 
 You are to do all you can for the Saviour, 
 to bring to him what costs you something, 
 and what you value most. 
 
 Do all you can, just like the rain-drop or 
 the sunbeam. You will not tell me you can 
 do nothing, when God has not only given 
 you hands and feet to work with, but also a 
 mind with which to think, and a soul with 
 which to feel and love. I have told you 
 about the beautiful alabaster cones in the 
 mountain cave, but I have not told you all 
 that may be seen there. These cones some- 
 times reach down to the floor, where they are 
 likewise coniform, the two extremes being 
 united by a comparatively slender thread of 
 the same material that reminds you of a harp- 
 string ; and when several of these are found 
 near each other it is easy to imagine that 
 
240 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 you are in the abode of the fairies, and that 
 this is the instrument on which they play. 
 Now, who made these beautiful ornaments, 
 some of which are heavier than a whole com- 
 pany of boys and girls could carry with their 
 united strength ? And who placed them in 
 the mountain cave? Why, the little rain- 
 drops, of course, millions of them at work 
 at once through hundreds of years as often 
 as they came down from the clouds. When- 
 ever it rained, each drop washed as many 
 particles as it could from the limestone rocks 
 that formed the arched roof of the cave, and 
 trickling through the cracks, left a few of 
 these particles clinging to the roof, and then 
 others were added; and so the work went 
 on until it grew into these massive forms. 
 Of each drop we might say, " It did what it 
 could." 
 
 You have read about the islands of the 
 sea that are formed entirely of coral, and you 
 know that the coral is composed of the skele- 
 tons of countless millions of very minute 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 241 
 
 animals that seem to live only for this pur- 
 pose. In the building of these islands — 
 which in the Pacific Ocean alone extend 
 along a line of more than four thousand 
 miles in length, and some of which are forty 
 or fifty miles in diameter — each little builder 
 does what it can. This is the rule you are 
 to follow, and if you follow this rule you 
 will never be at a loss for something to do 
 that Jesus will approve of. 
 
 President Lincoln, walking with his sec- 
 retary one day, stopped at a little bush and 
 looked into it, then stooped down and put 
 his hands through the leaves and twigs as if 
 to take something out. 
 
 " What do you find there, Mr. President ?" 
 asked his companion. 
 
 " There is a little bird fallen from its nest," 
 replied the President, " and I am trying to 
 put it back again." 
 
 Just at that moment he was doing what 
 he could for one of God's creatures. And 
 I do not suppose he was at all troubled by 
 
 16 
 
242 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 the thought that the act was a very small 
 and insignificant one. To the rescued bird 
 it was as important as it would have been to 
 a rescued child. 
 
 " Let us be content in work 
 To do the thing we can, and not presume 
 To fret because it's little. 'Twill employ 
 Seven men, they say, to make a perfect pin : 
 Who makes the point agrees to leave the head ; 
 And if a man should cry, ' I want a pin, 
 And I must make it straightway, head and point/ 
 His wisdom is not worth the pin he wants." 
 
 Do what you can. Do not wait for what 
 are called great opportunities before you be- 
 gin. Every opportunity is great that God 
 puts in your way, if it be only that of lift- 
 ing a fallen bird from the ground and re- 
 storing it to its nest, or making the point or 
 head of a pin. 
 
 "Oh dear!" said Nelly, with a sigh, as 
 she closed the book she was reading ; "if I 
 were only rich !" 
 
 " What then ?" asked her mother. 
 
 " Why, mother, I would do so much good ; 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 243 
 
 I would give all the poor people money and 
 clothes, and all my friends such beautiful 
 gifts, just like the lady I have been reading 
 about. But one can't do anything when one 
 is poor ;" and Nelly gave a deeper sigh. 
 
 "Why, Nelly, can't you do anything? 
 Perhaps you could do more now than if 
 you were rich." 
 
 " How is that, mother ?" said Nelly, with 
 a surprised look that said plainly, " Money 
 is power." 
 
 " I will tell you, daughter. One day a 
 young soldier lay intoxicated on the steps of 
 a house in a large city. He had come from 
 his home in the country to join a regiment, 
 and fell a victim to the poisonous cup. There 
 he lay without a friend in the large city to 
 counsel him. Just then a little girl was 
 passing on her way to school, and saw him. 
 She thought she would like to do something 
 for him. So she went and touched him 
 softly on the arm. He started, looked at 
 her, and said, ' What do you want?' 
 
244 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 " ' Oh, I feel so sorry for you ; and mother 
 would feel so sad if it was brother Willie.' 
 
 "That touched the right chord in his 
 heart. Memories of home, of mother and 
 sister, perhaps praying for him then, rushed 
 through his mind, and he resolved to be a 
 man. And he kept that resolve. There, 
 you see, daughter, money was not needed, 
 but in that little girl's heart were treasures 
 money could not buy." 
 
 " Mother, I wish I had those treasures in 
 my heart," said Nelly. 
 
 " You may have them," replied her mo- 
 ther ; " only ask, and you will receive. 
 Jesus only can change the heart and make 
 it a fit dwelling for kind thoughts that speak 
 in loving words full of sympathy, which are 
 of more value than all the costly gifts money 
 can buy." 
 
 Nelly's prayer now is, not for riches, but 
 for a heart to do the will of her heavenly 
 Father. 
 
 This story shows how much good may be 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 245 
 
 accomplished by performing the duty that 
 lies right before us. Here was something 
 a little girl had the power to do, and she 
 did it. There were other things she had 
 not the power to do, and these she did not 
 attempt. She could not hire a carriage and 
 send the poor, friendless young soldier to a 
 hotel and pay his board there, or take him 
 to his mother, but she could touch his arm 
 and tell him how sorry she felt for him— 
 just what any one of you could have done 
 if you had been in her place — and that touch 
 and those words did more for the young 
 man than money alone would have done. 
 
 A few years ago I used to visit an orphan 
 school quite frequently, and especially a 
 member of the school who was confined to 
 her room bv sickness. She loved her Saviour, 
 and was passionately fond of flowers. These 
 were sent to her every day by a young friend 
 almost as poor and dependent as herself, who 
 went to the woods where they were free to 
 all, and gathered them with her own hand. 
 
246 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 I remember well the joy that sparkled in 
 the eye of the invalid as often as it fell upon 
 the fresh and fragrant little nosegay that 
 rested in the vase at her side. To her mind 
 it was like precious ointment. Do what you 
 can, if you can only cull flowers to cheer 
 those who cannot gather them for them- 
 selves. 
 
 The Saviour often imparts great power to 
 the words and actions of children, and ena- 
 bles them to do what those who are older, 
 and in some respects wiser, have tried in vain 
 to accomplish. 
 
 A man was one day leaning, much intoxi- 
 cated, against a tree. Some little girls com- 
 ing from school saw him there, and at once 
 said to each other, " What shall we do for 
 him?" 
 
 Presently said one, "Oh, I'll tell you — 
 let's sing him a temperance song." And so 
 they did. Collecting around him, they sang : 
 
 "Away the bowl, away the bowl," 
 
 and so on, in beautiful tones. 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 247 
 
 The poor fellow enjoyed the singing, and 
 when they had finished that song said, " Sing 
 again, little girls, sing again." 
 
 "We will," they said, "if you will sign 
 the temperance pledge." 
 
 " No, no ; we are not at a temperance 
 meeting ; there are no pledges here." 
 
 " I have a pledge," cried one ; and, " I 
 have a pencil," cried another ; and holding 
 up the pledge and pencil, they besought him 
 to sign it. 
 
 " No, no ; I won't sign it now. Sing for 
 me." 
 
 So they sang again — 
 
 " The drink that's in the drunkard's bowi 
 Is not the drink for me," 
 
 " Oh, do sing that again," said he as he 
 wiped the tears from his eyes. 
 
 " No, no more," said they, " unless you'll 
 sign the pledge ; sign, and we'll sing it for 
 you." 
 
 He plead for the singing, but they were 
 
248 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 firm, and declared they would go away if he 
 would not sign. 
 
 " But," said the poor fellow, striving to 
 find an excuse, " there's no table here : how 
 can I write without a table?" 
 
 At this, a modest, quiet, pretty little crea- 
 ture, with a pleasant smile on her lips, came 
 and said, " Yes, you can spread the pledge 
 on the crown of your hat, and I will hold it 
 for you." 
 
 Off came the- hat, the child held it, the 
 pledge was signed, and the little ones burst 
 out with — 
 
 "Oh, water for me, bright water for me, 
 Give wine to the tremulous debauchee." 
 
 I heard that man in Worcester town hall, 
 says Mr. Gough, who tells the story, with 
 uplifted hands and quivering lips say, "I 
 thank God for the sympathy of those chil- 
 dren. I shall thank God to all eternity that 
 he sent those little children as messengers 
 of mercy to me." 
 
 A minister of the gospel, relating his own 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 249 
 
 experience, tells us that when first urged by 
 conscience to preach he shrank from the 
 duty. There was a long, hard struggle be- 
 tween conscience and timidity, and the latter 
 almost carried the day. He had nearly per- 
 suaded himself that God must have some 
 other field of labor for him. In this ner- 
 vous and hesitating frame of mind he was 
 walking, meditating, praying, and about to 
 yield to his weaker feelings, when he came 
 by a group of children playing at the road- 
 side. Suddenly one of them jumped up 
 and sang the words, 
 
 11 My gracious Master and my God, 
 Assist me to proclaim, 
 To speak through all the earth abroad, 
 The honors of thy name." 
 
 And then the child resumed her play, little 
 conscious of what she had done. From that 
 moment he was decided. All doubt left his 
 mind. And whatever good he afterward ac- 
 complished in the pulpit he ascribed, under 
 God, to the simple hymn of that child. 
 
250 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Do all you can to show your love for 
 Jesus. Children have great power, and 
 they ought to use it in this way. This is a 
 busy world, in which there is much to be 
 done, and to every creature and every force 
 he has made God has entrusted a portion of 
 the work. For the most part each is doing 
 what it can. The rosebud struggling into 
 bloom seems to say to the Being who created 
 it, " Oh how I love thy law !" And so does 
 the rain-drop when it falls to the earth and 
 carries to the buried seed just what it wants 
 to make it grow. What is your share of the 
 work that is to be done for God ? You 
 could not take the place of the rain-drop or 
 of the sunbeam if you would. When you 
 look around and see what the trees are do- 
 ing, and the clouds, it would be well for each 
 of you to ask the question, "What was I 
 made for ?" 
 
 " God made the little bird to sing 
 Up in the tree so tall ; 
 He made the castled snail to cling 
 Close to the garden wall. 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 251 
 
 "He made the flowers to charm the eye, 
 And scent the air around ; 
 He made the tree so broad and high, 
 To shadow all the ground. 
 
 "He made the moon to cheer the night, 
 And yon dark sky adorn ; 
 He made the sun so warm and bright, 
 To ripen well the corn. 
 
 " You cannot twinkle like a star, 
 Or blossom like the flowers, 
 But God has made you greater far, 
 And given you noble powers." 
 
 And therefore, with affection, reason and 
 knowledge to guide you, are you to do nobler 
 work for him. And you are to do it earn- 
 estly. You are to do it with all your might. 
 You are to do all you can — -just as much 
 more than the bee or the ant as you are 
 greater than either, and greater than all put 
 together. You may imitate these in the 
 heartiness with which they perform God's 
 will, but you cannot measure what God 
 requires of you by what he requires of them. 
 God has made you but a little lower than 
 the angels, and therefore you have angels' 
 
252 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 errands to perform, or something very like 
 them. You sometimes sing, 
 
 " I want to be an angel." 
 
 That is all very well if you do not think 
 that you must wait until you die before you 
 can be one. You can be an angel now if you 
 choose to be, and have wings, too — wings of 
 love, wings of mercy — feelings in your heart 
 that will carry you very swiftly while you 
 are doing angels' work. 
 
 I have heard children sing those words, 
 and have then seen them turn round and 
 work for Satan, as if they thought the time to 
 be an angel had not come. I have seen chil- 
 dren with these words upon their lips whilst 
 with their hands they were pinching their 
 neighbors, or doing some other mean thing 
 which I am very sure an angel would not 
 think of doing. This waiting until you die 
 to be an angel is very unwise, for if you are 
 not one before that, you never will be, I fear. 
 
 An angel is a messenger — one who is sent 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 253 
 
 to do the will of another — and God's angels 
 are his messengers, sent to do his bidding. 
 So when I see little children with the love 
 of Jesus in their hearts showing that love 
 in their actions, I have a right to count them 
 among the angels too. Those girls who pre- 
 vailed upon the poor drunkard to sign the 
 pledge were God's messengers to him. The 
 songs they sung to him were songs of peace 
 and good-will, like those which brought 
 joy to the shepherds on the plains of Beth- 
 lehem. 
 
 If you want to be an angel, be one now, 
 and go on wings of love to do the will of 
 Jesus. 
 
 Where shall you begin ? In your own 
 heart, if that is most convenient. There is 
 work enough to be clone for the Saviour 
 there. Make room for him, so that he may 
 have the best place. Drive out evil thoughts 
 and unkind tempers. Sit at his feet, as Mary 
 did on another occasion, and hear what he 
 has to say to you. Then lead some one else 
 
254 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 to Jesus. You need not be idle a single 
 hour or moment, and if you do what you 
 can you will not be. 
 
 Bring to the Saviour what costs you some- 
 thing, and what you value most. Mary 
 brought the precious ointment for which 
 she paid a large sum. Duty often requires 
 effort or sacrifice of some kind. It is not 
 always as easy as was the singing of the hymn 
 that fixed the purpose of the man who was 
 trying to silence conscience. There are many 
 opportunities of doing good that thus come 
 in our way, but others have to be sought, 
 and we must turn aside and go after them 
 or they will never be ours. Now, there are 
 many who are ready to do pleasant things, 
 and kind things, and things that are useful, 
 as long as it is mere play, or does not cost 
 any more effort than if it was. But where 
 sacrifice and resolution begin their well- 
 doing ends. 
 
 I have walked more than once along the 
 banks of the Delaware where it is so small 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 255 
 
 a stream that you could almost leap over it. 
 And how do you think it runs ? Not in a 
 straight line, but zigzag, first in one direc- 
 tion and then in the other, making a beauti- 
 ful curve at every turn, as if it were anxious 
 to make the whole valley green from side to 
 side. That is just what it does. You must 
 be like that river if you would do all the good 
 you can. Bring to the Saviour, I say, what 
 costs you something ; bring him the best you 
 have. That gift is of little value on which 
 you have bestowed no expenditure. Think 
 nothing too hard, nothing too precious, to be 
 done for him. Never say " I can't " in his 
 service. Those are evil words, and always 
 stand in the way of usefulness. If Christ 
 gives you strength, you can do all things 
 that are right and pure. 
 
 In a gallery of paintings in the old city of 
 Antwerp a group of people gathered around 
 a young man who was making a copy of one 
 of Rubens' pictures. The work was beau- 
 tiful, but the workman had neither hands 
 
256 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 nor arms to manage his brush. He held it 
 with his toes, and used it skillfully. Now, it 
 is not natural, nor is it easy, thus to guide a 
 small brush carefully and delicately with the 
 foot, and almost any one with no arms would 
 have said, " I can't paint," but he said, " I 
 can," and so he did. 
 
 Some months ago there was exhibited in 
 New York a picture called the "Rat Catcher." 
 It represents a man and four dogs watching 
 for rats, and is considered a very beautiful 
 work of art. And who was the artist ? A 
 man who had neither arms, nor hands, nor 
 feet, with which to hold his brush. He was 
 an uneducated man, with no knowledge of 
 art, but on his back, with brush held in his 
 mouth and guided by his lips and tongue, 
 the paper being fastened in a frame over his 
 face, he executed this beautiful picture. Try. 
 That is the word. 
 
 The mills had stopped, and a Sunday- 
 school teacher had lost every scholar but 
 one. So she said to that one, " I will give 
 
IN SIMON'S HOUSE. 257 
 
 you a bit of work to do for Jesus. Try this 
 week to find somebody to join our class. 
 Are you not acquainted with some children 
 who go to school, and would love to come to 
 ours and be led to the Saviour ?" 
 
 Oh yes, she knew many, and promised to 
 try, but was afraid she would not succeed- 
 She was afraid, and therefore did not try, 
 and brought no one in. Sarah Colt did try. 
 When only eleven years old she gathered 
 some of the mill children together in Pater- 
 son, New Jersey, and taught them from Sun- 
 day to Sunday, until she had as many as 
 sixty scholars under her care. And not 
 long ago, when she had become old, four 
 thousand teachers and scholars marched by 
 her house singing their best and sweetest 
 songs. 
 
 What, then, will you do for Jesus ? Will 
 you not bring him the best you have — the 
 thing you value most? The first thing to 
 give him is your heart — your love — and 
 then the precious ointment, or whatever else 
 
 17 
 
258 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 will best express that love, will come too. 
 But begin to do something for him. 
 
 " I cannot do much," said a little star, 
 "To make the dark world bright; 
 My little beams cannot struggle far 
 
 Through the folding gloom of night. 
 But I am a part of God's great plan, 
 And I'll cheerfully do the best that I can." 
 
 " What is the use," said a fleecy cloud, 
 " Of those dew-drops that I hold ? 
 They will hardly bend the lily proud, 
 Though caught in her cup of gold. 
 Yet I am a part of God's great plan : 
 My treasure I'll give as well as I can." 
 
 A child went merrily forth to play, 
 
 But a thought, like a silver thread, 
 Kept winding in and out all day 
 
 Through the happy, busy head. 
 Mother said, "Darling, do all you can, 
 For you are a part of God's great plan." 
 
 So she helped a younger child along 
 When the road was rough to the feet, 
 
 And she sang from her heart a little song- 
 A song that was passing sweet ; 
 
 And her father, a weary, toil-worn man, 
 
 Said, " I also will do the best that I can." 
 
259 
 
" There is a lad here which hath five barley-loaves and two small 
 • but what are they among so many?" — John vi. 9. 
 260 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 AMONG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 
 
 WHERE was this lad? 
 ' He was near the lake of Tiberias, at its 
 northern extremity, on one of the hill-slopes 
 that rise so beautifully from the shore. It 
 was the afternoon of a spring day. The 
 grass was long and soft, and the sun was 
 sinking toward the western mountains. From 
 the spot where he stood, it may be, he could 
 look down upon the lake, and see the smooth 
 current on its surface that marked the pas- 
 sage of the Jordan. Hills rose on every 
 hand, with vineyards here and there climb- 
 ing up their sides, and at the west lay a 
 fruitful plain with its pastures and grain- 
 fields. 
 
 But the lad was not alone. Jesus was 
 there with his disciples, having come by 
 
 261 
 
262 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 water from Capernaum. And no less than 
 five thousand men, together with women and 
 children, had followed him by land. 
 
 The Saviour wanted to be alone, but he 
 was not offended when he saw this large 
 multitude of people, because he knew he 
 could do them good. So he healed the sick 
 friends whom they had brought along with 
 them, and late in the day he told his disci- 
 ples to give them something to eat before 
 they went back to their homes. But to feed 
 so many would have cost more money than 
 they had, and even if the money had been 
 at their command, it would have been neces- 
 sary to go to the neighboring villages in 
 order to buy what was needed, and for this 
 there was no time. The shadows of evening 
 were already beginning to fall. Philip said 
 the thing could not be done, whilst Andrew 
 endeavored to show that Philip was right. 
 
 " There is a lad here/' said he, " who has 
 five barley-loaves and two small fishes, bu' 
 what are they among so many ?" 
 
AMONG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 263 
 
 And what did Jesus say to all this? He 
 commanded the multitude to sit down on the 
 grass, and had them arranged in groups, so 
 that the space occupied by each party was 
 in the form of a square, like a garden plot, 
 as the word means. Then he took the five 
 loaves and the two fishes, and looking up to 
 heaven, he blessed them and brake them, 
 and gave them to his disciples, and the dis- 
 ciples gave them to the multitude, and they 
 all ate until they were satisfied. After this 
 hearty and abundant meal the disciples 
 gathered what remained, that there might 
 be no waste, and filled twelve baskets with 
 the fragments of the five barley-loaves. 
 
 Thus by his own power did Jesus multi- 
 ply the bread as it passed out of his hand. 
 He began with one basketful and ended 
 with twelve, and fed thousands besides. 
 God performs wonders in nature every day 
 when he causes the seed to grow, and thus 
 provides daily bread for the millions who 
 are fed by his bounty, but .that was a greater 
 
264 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 wonder, because it was supernatural — above 
 nature. 
 
 I will tell you more about this after we 
 have learned some of the other lessons that 
 come to us through this miracle. 
 
 You remember that Jesus blessed the loaves 
 before he brake them, and that was the same 
 as giving thanks. This, you may say, was 
 the greatest of all wonders, that He who had 
 such power looked up to heaven as if he 
 were dependent. But this is a greater won- 
 der — that we who are dependent often fail to 
 look up to heaven, and are as thankless as if 
 all our blessings were our own. It is safe to 
 say that Jesus never sat down at table with- 
 out lifting his voice in prayer, and in this 
 he taught us how we ought to receive the 
 gifts of our heavenly Father. 
 
 It is related that on a certain occasion an 
 English ship-of-war touched at one of the 
 ports of the Sandwich Islands, and that the 
 captain gave a dinner to the royal family 
 of the islands and several chiefs. The table 
 
AMONG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 265 
 
 was spread upon the quarter-deck, and loaded 
 with viands and delicacies of all kinds. After 
 the company were seated and the covers were 
 removed, the islanders seemed in no haste to 
 begin to eat, but looked as though something 
 else was expected. The captain thought the 
 trouble was w T ith the food — that it was not 
 what they liked, or that it had been prepared 
 in a manner to which they were unaccustomed, 
 and accordingly commenced apologizing for 
 it. He had, however, a pious waiter, who 
 stood behind his chair, and quickly discov- 
 ering what the obstacle was, whispered to 
 the captain, " These persons are waiting for 
 a blessing to be asked." 
 
 "Ask it, then," said the captain to the 
 waiter, who was a pious man. 
 
 The waiter did so, reverently and grate- 
 fully imploring the divine benediction. INTo 
 sooner was this done than Queen Pomare, 
 her family and the chiefs showed that their 
 appetites were not at fault, and that the din- 
 ner suited them exactly. They had learned 
 
266 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 from the Saviour that the bread should be 
 blessed before it is broken. 
 
 An old proverb says, " He that enjoys 
 aught without thanksgiving is as though 
 he robbed God." I fear there is a great 
 deal of this robbery going on, this thank- 
 less snatching of God's gifts out of his 
 hand without any acknowledgment of his 
 care and love. That is a very mean way 
 of dealing with boundless and constant gen- 
 erosity, to say the least of it. 
 
 And then, when we are guilty of such un- 
 thankfulness, we rob ourselves of the satis- 
 faction there is in knowing and feeling that 
 an omnipotent Hand supplies all our need. 
 When we give thanks at our meals, we ask 
 God to make our food a blessing to us be- 
 yond and above the support of the phys- 
 ical life. We ask that it may awaken affec- 
 tion and trust in the soul. Thus we might 
 have constant joy if we would only give 
 thanks — thanks for life, for daily bread, 
 for loving friends, for trees, and flowers, 
 
AMONG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 267 
 
 and birds — thanks for everything that God 
 sends. 
 
 A little boy, not as large, I think, as the 
 one who had the five barley-loaves and the 
 two fishes, was visiting not long ago in the 
 country. There were many guests, and the 
 children had a separate table. While wait- 
 ing for a blessing to be asked he noticed that 
 the eating had commenced. 
 
 "Why don't you pray?" he exclaimed, 
 surprised out of his politeness. 
 
 " Well, Wattie, suppose you pray," was 
 the reply. 
 
 It was an unexpected turn of affairs, but 
 he was equal to the occasion. 
 
 "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not 
 want : for Jesus Christ's sake, amen," he 
 said, promptly and devoutly. 
 
 Was it not beautiful? How direct and 
 practical the application of a favorite verse ! 
 How close the connection between the good 
 things spread upon the table for his enjoy- 
 ment and the watchful care of the heavenly 
 
268 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 Shepherd who is ready to feed the soul as 
 well as the body ! 
 
 We are told that even the trees clap their 
 hands, and that the hills are joyful before 
 the Lord. The trees have not such hands 
 as yours, nor the hills such voices, yet they 
 appear glad in their quiet beauty. When 
 after a warm, gentle rain you look at the 
 flower that has been drooping, and notice 
 how it lifts its face toward heaven to catch, 
 the refreshing drops, does it not seem to you 
 as if it were giving thanks for the great 
 blessing ? So it seems to me. I never hear 
 the birds sing at early dawn- — a thousand or 
 more together — as if their little hearts would 
 burst with happiness, but I think of their 
 song as a song of thanksgiving. Happy 
 birds ! happy flowers ! because never thank- 
 less ! They have not human love, and can- 
 not, therefore, be thankful as we are, or 
 ought to be, but they have a way of their 
 own which it would be well for us to have. 
 They impart as gladly as they accept, and 
 
A3I0XG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 269 
 
 ■what better way is there of expressing thanks 
 than that ? 
 
 "From all thy works, dear Father, 
 
 Something thou dost receive ; 
 Some fragrance thou may'st gather ; 
 
 Some homage each can give ; 
 My gratitude must rather 
 
 In grateful loving live. 
 
 "Thy little bird will sing thee 
 
 The blithest song it knows; 
 Thy little flower will fling thee 
 
 The sweetest scent that blows ; 
 Thy little child will bring thee 
 
 A heart that overflows." 
 
 Ask God's blessing upon the bread before 
 you break it — that is the first lesson. 
 
 The second is, God can bring much out 
 of little, as he is doing every day when he 
 causes the one seed to produce a hundred 
 or more, and the hundred, ten thousand, 
 and the ten thousand, a million ; so that 
 at the third planting the one seed is mul- 
 tiplied a million times. God can and 
 does thus multiply good words and actions, 
 even those that seem to us very small and 
 
270 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 unimportant, and brings out of circum- 
 stances that appear trivial to us the most 
 surprising and desirable results. One day 
 an apple fell from a tree, and Newton in- 
 ferred from this incident the great law that 
 holds the planets in their places and causes 
 them to move regularly and unceasingly 
 round the sun. So also do great blessings 
 spring from small acts of love. 
 
 There was lately seen at a jeweler's in 
 Paris a small brooch set with brilliants of 
 considerable value. Within it, upon an en- 
 ameled ground, were enclosed four old brass 
 pins, crooked and rusty. And what is the 
 history of this strange ornament? Years 
 ago an unfortunate nobleman was plunged 
 into a dark dungeon for his political opin- 
 ions. Days, weeks, months, passed away, 
 and the prisoner, thus snatched ' from his 
 friends and his occupations, buried in silence 
 and obscurity, soon began to feel his body 
 waste away and his mind wandering. 
 Searched from head to foot by those who 
 
AMONG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 271 
 
 had thrown him there, it chanced that in his 
 dress had remained four pins which escaped 
 the examination. They suggested to him a 
 mode of employing his time and thoughts 
 in this terrible solitude. He threw the pins 
 from him hap-hazard in his dungeon, and, 
 once scattered, set himself to work to find 
 them. When found, he threw them from 
 him again, and so on, and on, and on. He 
 often consumed two or three days, sitting, 
 kneeling or stretched on the ground, before 
 he succeeded in picking them all up. This 
 lasted for six years. A grand political event 
 then restored to the count his liberty, but 
 he would not quit his cell without carrying 
 with him these instruments that had saved 
 his reason. And when he found himself in 
 the midst of his children — left at so tender 
 an age that he recognized them only through 
 the eyes of his heart — he related his touch- 
 ing story, and showed to them, all weeping 
 with sympathy and joy, the four pins to 
 which he was indebted for his reason, per- 
 
272 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 haps for his life. These wonderful pins his 
 wife has had set in ten thousand francs' 
 worth of diamonds, that she may bear about 
 with her so strange and affecting a memorial. 
 But the pins are worth unspeakably more to 
 her than the diamonds that surround them. 
 Thus God cared for this persecuted man. 
 By means of an instrumentality so small he 
 saved his reason and his life. 
 
 We are not conscious of the manner in 
 which God often brings multiplied blessings 
 to us through those incidents of our own 
 lives that are too small to attract our notice. 
 The sight of a flower or a smile may have 
 brought great joy to us more than once — may 
 have turned the current of our thoughts from 
 dark into healthful channels. 
 
 John Bunyan wrote the Pilgrim's Progress, 
 and that book has been a blessing to un- 
 counted numbers. But John Bunyan was 
 once a wicked man, and led a wandering, 
 dissipated life, till he met with four poor 
 women at Bedford sitting at a door in the 
 
AMONG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 273 
 
 sun talking about the mercy of God in Christ, 
 of the temptations of Satan and the wick- 
 edness of their own hearts. God multiplied 
 the simple talk of these poor women into all 
 the good that has been or will yet be accom- 
 2^1ished by John Bunyan's writings. Such 
 is the power of unremembered words. 
 
 A good woman passing a saloon saw a 
 young man thrust out by the keeper, and 
 so blinded was he with rage that he did not 
 see the ladv until she laid her hand on his 
 arm and asked in a gentle voice what was 
 the matter. A thunderbolt from a clear 
 sky could not have startled the young man 
 more than did those few gentle words from 
 a motherly heart. Trembling from head to 
 foot, and very jrnle, he looked at her a mo- 
 ment, and then said, " I thought it was my 
 mother's voice. It was strangely like it. 
 But she has been dead for many a year." 
 " You had, then, a mother that loved you?" 
 Ah, what a flood of memories these words 
 brought up ! A few kind words more were 
 
 18 
 
274 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 spoken — words of hope, and courage, and 
 cheer, that he still might make himself what 
 that mother wished — and then they parted. 
 
 But the whole current of the young man's 
 life was changed from that moment. In after 
 years this lady met a noble Christian man 
 whose life was a blessing to many, and 
 learned from his lips that he was the youth 
 whom her kind words had saved. 
 
 Much out of little — trust God for that. 
 You say to the companion at your side who 
 is impatient, and is speaking unkindly to 
 some one else, " Be gentle and loving as the 
 Saviour was, and as he has told us to be," 
 and you think no more of those few words 
 than if they had never been uttered. But 
 God takes charge of them as thev sink 
 down into the soul, just as he takes care 
 of the flower-seeds which you planted yes- 
 terday. He causes them to take root and 
 grow, and that friend of yours becomes mild 
 and forbearing, and awakens the love of 
 every one. You see the great thing that 
 
AMONG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 275 
 
 God has done, whilst neither of you knows 
 that it all came out of the little talk you 
 had together about returning good for 
 evil. 
 
 Trust God, I say, for bringing much out 
 of the little you do for him, whether it be 
 the planting of seed in your garden or the 
 giving of a penny to send the truth to those 
 who have it not. He can multiply the penny 
 as he multiplies the seed, and make it the 
 instrument of bringing light and joy to 
 many souls. 
 
 I have told you that God performs won- 
 ders in nature every day, and that what 
 Jesus did with the loaves and fishes was 
 more wonderful only because it was above 
 nature. It did not require any more power 
 to do this than it does to make the grass 
 grow. Man cannot multiply the loaves or 
 the grain. God only can do either, and he 
 can do the same thing in different ways. 
 
 You think you would like to have been 
 on the shore of the lake of Galilee, and seen 
 
276 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 the lad and the basket and the loaves and 
 the fishes and the five thousand and more 
 who fed upon them, and left twelve baskets- 
 ful over and above their need. But whilst 
 you cannot be there to witness that scene, 
 remember that there are wonders transpiring 
 all around you. Not long ago the trees 
 were stripped of their leaves, and seemed 
 quite dead. And then God brought the sun 
 back from his winter's journey, and told him 
 to touch with his warm rays the frozen 
 ground, and to bring up from sea and lake 
 and river the rain-drops, and put them in 
 the clouds ; and then he told the clouds to 
 w^ater the earth, and buds began to swell, 
 and leaves to multiply, until the woods and 
 the hillsides were alive with beauty. The 
 trees whose nature it is to be green all win- 
 ter sent out a new growth from the very 
 ends of the twigs that looked like the fingers 
 of a hand held up to receive fresh jewels of 
 emerald from God's full storehouse. The 
 grass began to grow, the violets looked out 
 
AMONG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 277 
 
 of tlieir queer little eyes, and the butter- 
 cups waked oat of tlieir long sleep and 
 turned their bright faces toward the sky. 
 To count these wonders you would have to 
 count all the leaves upon all the trees, and 
 every blade of grass and every flower. 
 
 Let me tell you a parable, which, though 
 fictitious in itself, enforces a great truth. 
 It runs in these words. 
 
 On a spring day young Solomon sat in 
 deep meditation under the palni trees in the 
 garden of his father the king. Nathan, his 
 teacher, approached him, saying, " Of what 
 are you thinking so earnestly ?" 
 
 The youth raised his head, and replied, 
 " I would like to see a miracle." 
 
 " A wish that I likewise indulged in in 
 my youthful days," said the prophet, smil- 
 ing. 
 
 " And was it ever gratified ?" inquired the 
 prince, eagerly. 
 
 "A man of God," continued Nathan, 
 " came to me with a pomegranate seed in 
 
278 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 his hand. ' Behold/ said he, ' what this seed 
 will produce.' He then placed it in the 
 ground and covered it. Scarcely had he 
 removed his hand when the ground rose, 
 and I saw two small leaves come forth. In 
 a moment the leaves closed and became a 
 round stem surrounded with bark, and the 
 stem grew visibly taller and thicker. Then, 
 as I looked, seven boughs came out of the 
 stem, like the seven branches on the candle- 
 stick of the altar. The man of God then 
 dipped water in the hollow of his hand out 
 of the brook and sprinkled the boughs three 
 times, and they hung at once full of green 
 leaves, and we were surrounded with a cool 
 shade and pleasant odors. ' What is it that 
 sends to us this sweet fragrance ?' I inquired. 
 ' Do you not see/ said the man of God, ' how 
 the purple blossoms are shooting out from 
 among the leaves?' I would have spoken, 
 but just then a gentle breeze swept through 
 the leaves and scattered them around us like 
 snow as it descends from the clouds. The 
 
AMONG THE FIVE THOUSAND. 279 
 
 blossoms had scarcely fallen when the red 
 pomegranates hung down among the leaves 
 like the almonds on Aaron's rod. Then the 
 man of God left me in deep astonishment.' , 
 
 Here Nathan ended, and Solomon eagerly 
 inquired, "Where can I find this man? Is 
 he still living ?" 
 
 Nathan replied, " Son of David, I have 
 related a dream." 
 
 When Solomon heard this he was grieved, 
 and said, "How could you thus deceive 
 me?" 
 
 But Nathan responded, " I have not de- 
 ceived you, son of Jesse. In your father's 
 garden you can witness all that I have told 
 you. Does not the pomegranate and every 
 other tree undergo these changes ?" 
 
 "Yes," said Solomon, "but unobserved, 
 and in the course of a long period." 
 
 Nathan replied, " Is it the less a divine 
 work because it is accomplished in silence 
 and retirement ?" 
 
 Such a miracle as this may you witness 
 
280 AMONG THE LILIES. 
 
 if you only put a single seed in the ground 
 and watch its growth. Such a miracle are 
 you, for you live, and move, and have your 
 being in God's power and love. 
 
 God has wrought a still greater miracle in 
 you and for you if he has given you a new 
 heart. King David once said, " I am a 
 wonder unto many," and so is every one 
 who makes God his refuge, and, safe in his 
 love, grows like a tree in a sheltered and well 
 watered garden. Let the Saviour thus make 
 you a miracle of his grace ; then your good 
 works and deeds will be multiplied for ever. 
 
 " The oak tree's boughs once touched the grass ; 
 But every year they grew 
 A little farther from the ground, 
 And nearer toward the blue. 
 
 " So live that you each year may be, 
 While time glides swiftly by, 
 A little farther from the earth, 
 And nearer to the sky." 
 

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