LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Cliap.^^. Copjiiglit No. 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
MEANS. 
 
 BY 
 
 ERNST WAGNER, 
 
 R TENNYSON NEELY CO., 
 
 PUBLISHERS, 
 NEW YORK. CHICAGO. LONDON, 
 
 U 
 
2098 
 
 Library of Conprreae 
 
 Two Coptes Received 
 JAN 5 1901 
 
 r-j Copynght entry 
 
 SECOND COPY 
 
 Oeliv»red to 
 
 ORDER DIVISION 
 JAN Si. 1901 
 
 
 Copyright, 1906, 
 
 by 
 
 ARTHUR CHESHIRE NEELY 
 
 the 
 United States 
 
 and 
 Great Britain. 
 
 An Rights Reserved. 
 
To THE Spirit's Incarnation, 
 MOTHER. 
 
" Faith is the life of God in the souV^Luther. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Means m General y 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Flowers. 12 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Light 31 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Physical Beauty 40 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Age 50 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Music. 59 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Ideals 70 
 
FOEEWORDS. 
 
 An Austrian princess visited her uncle, the Duke 
 of Lucca, one summer, when the land was filled 
 with flowers and every tree bright with foliage and 
 wreathed with the tendrils of the vine. She had 
 never been in Italy before, and the wonderful 
 beauty seemed to her like a dream of paradise. 
 She fancied that the lovely landscape was thus 
 decorated for her sake and thanked her uncle 
 for his wonderful welcome. But a poet standing 
 by the side of the princess told her that the giver 
 of the festival was the King of kings, and that 
 He had made the land one bower of bloom not 
 more for her than for the poorest peasant girl. If 
 the superficial observer be compared to the 
 princess, there may well, to the poet, be likened 
 the author of "Means," who, in his neat little vol- 
 ume, teaches that God adorns the world for every 
 one who is capable of seeing and enjoying its 
 beauty. After illustrating how God operates 
 through means, the author, by using objects of 
 nature as symbols of spiritual truth, makes the 
 outward world to us the image of a heavenly realm. 
 He sees divinity in woods and hills, and receives 
 the flower as a celestial message. He leads to 
 the conclusion that the unseen things of God are 
 interpreted by the seen; that every object of the 
 
Forewords. 
 
 natural creation when rightly regarded, is an 
 avenue by which we can draw near to the Euler 
 of all; and that the whole earth is aflame with 
 the presence of God. The book, exhibiting meta- 
 phorical language, and consisting of essays on 
 "Means in General," "Flowers," "Light," "Music," 
 and "Ideals," is fraught with thoughts of an up- 
 lifting tendency, and will interest and strengthen 
 anyone who gives it proper perusal. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 VI 
 
MEANS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MEANS IN" GENERAL. 
 
 God always operates through means. He used 
 Christ. Christ used clay. God and Christ use 
 Paraclete. These facts reveal to me the reason 
 why people make failures of life. Every young 
 man and woman desires to be prosperous; but if 
 that desire is not accomplished by a means of grati- 
 fication, the desire is not economic. 
 
 We all want to have means sufficient at least 
 to make this life comfortable for ourselves as well 
 as for those about us ; and yet this desire stops with 
 desire and prayer, which, without means, are as 
 good as nothing, so far as the result is forthcom- 
 ing. 
 
 We often wonder why God does not send the 
 blessing. Is it possible for even God to tie some- 
 thing to that which does not exist ? Change youi 
 prayer. Before you can receive Christ's benedic- 
 tion on Mary, you must be in Mary's place. Ask 
 
 7 
 
Means. 
 
 God to aid you through an avenue, and then set 
 out to accomplish something. There is but one 
 benefit that a college student has in the market 
 of the world over his non-university friend, and 
 it rests in this: that he sees means with which to 
 reach ends, and has power to utilize his untried 
 strength. Every man has latent power as certainly 
 as he has existence. It is the blacksmith who has 
 the developed muscles, not because he desires them, 
 but because he discerns, willingly or unwillingly, 
 an honest means through which physical laws per- 
 taining to himself can operate. Activity envelopes 
 structure, and the very result may become a new 
 means. Do not sit in vacant emptiness and plan, 
 but rather have something tangible upon which 
 God can lay his hand and thus assist you. Pov- 
 erty is no excuse ; neither is lack of education, nor 
 the problem of environments, if we make a proper 
 use of the means accorded us. We are the fram- 
 ers of our own constitutions, physical, moral and 
 intellectual. 
 
 Abraham Lincoln was poor and untutored, but 
 he knew it. He was encompassed by the waters of 
 bitter circumstances, bearing ships heavy with 
 many burdens. These did not make him, but he 
 used them to make himself the greatest, grand- 
 est and best man America ever produced. He was 
 the first American. He was his own instructor. 
 The little knowledge which he, from time to time, 
 secured was used by him, and, as a result, God 
 was enabled to form a partnership with him. 
 Some will say that this man came into the world 
 blessed with superior parentage. It is true that 
 
 8 
 
Means in General. 
 
 his father and mother were godly and intellectual. 
 Here I will grant that evolution does operate. We 
 must admit that one generation is affected as 
 much, yea, even more, by the seed of good than 
 by that of sin. Yet I cannot see why He should 
 neglect us, if the God of our fathers is just as 
 truly our God. We must remember that all men 
 were not born for the same purpose. Every sphere 
 and walk of life must have its constellation of 
 men, and every constellation will have its star 
 of first magnitude. Some one says: "A great 
 man is simply the greatest of his kind." Thus 
 it was in the sixteenth century. Luther was the 
 star. Was there ever a man born under circum- 
 stances more adverse to greatness than he? Yet 
 in the same breath I ask — Was there ever a man, 
 except Moses and Paul, who rose to such dizzy 
 heights in the eyes of both God and man? He 
 laid hold of justification by faith and it became 
 his means. But, truer still, he did not simply 
 know the means, but, in the use thereof, he bent 
 every muscle and every nerve ; and, if I dare so 
 speak, every mental fibre was drawn in his efforts 
 until it was placed in a sensitive attitude for the 
 musician's fingers. 
 
 You may have an ideal which, by the way, is 
 only a seen, yet unseen, a known, yet unknown, 
 possibility ; one for which men are willing to sac- 
 rifice body, mind, and soul. If you have such an 
 ideal set about to realize it. God will bless you, 
 for then he will have something for which to bless 
 you; men will praise you because there will be 
 a connection between you and your fellows. Our 
 9 
 
Means. 
 
 Telations with God are not vastly different from 
 those with our brother. I never receive praise un- 
 less I form an avenue through which the compli- 
 ment of men can travel to me. Likewise, I never 
 receive grace from God unless I strew some path 
 with the palms of mortal endeavor, and thereby 
 enable Him to have a triumphant march into the 
 new heart, new mind, and new man; yea, even 
 into the New Jerusalem of my soul. 
 
 I have enclosed in a pot all the nourishment 
 necessary for a plant, but, if the plant is kept in 
 another pot, of what value is the soil? We must 
 bring the two together. Some may ask: "Is it 
 absolutely necessary for an infinite Christ to de- 
 mand means? It is inconceivable, although our 
 lack of perception does not render it improbable 
 for Christ to operate without means. If there are 
 limitations they have been placed by God. It is 
 not my fault that Adam sinned; but it is a fault 
 of mine if I am starving and will not accept of- 
 fered food. The discord often lies in this : We de- 
 spise the station in which our native talents have 
 placed us, and we are rather unwilling to start 
 from nature's post on our ascending march. It is 
 possible for this to be remedied. By laying one 
 stone upon another, we get a beautiful monument 
 of kingly splendor, whereas the poor stones, as 
 they lie in the quarry in which nature placed them, 
 are unpolished and unadmired. Again you say: 
 "In this case a mind operated." So, in the stone 
 of thought with which we are to build, a mind 
 operated. Simply let it continue to act, but let us 
 press one step more: Did the stones show any 
 
 to 
 
Means in General. 
 
 means to the mind? Here again the answer is in 
 the affirmative. In the stones lay the proper 
 stuff. Countless millions of minds have con- 
 tributed to the splendor of your mind, and you 
 know it not, so nicely and scientifically has the 
 work been done. Become responsive. If you have 
 not the means to secure the means with which to 
 become the means, then I say : tap your left arm, 
 draw from it, if you be an artist, blood ; paint your 
 passion and this will be the means by means of 
 which God will, because he can, abundantly bless 
 you. 
 
 If 
 
Means. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 FLOWERS. 
 
 Flowees are constant reminders of God's love. 
 Like Him, they have no respect of persons, but 
 speak to all alike in the voice of perfume. He 
 who has lost the sense of smell is bereft of one of 
 the most charming means of communicating with 
 God through Nature. Where may one journey 
 and not find flowers of some description? How 
 often do we thoughtlessly trample beneath our 
 feet these unpretentious messengers ! Did it ever 
 occur to you that, by crushing a single weed, per- 
 haps you had blotted out of existence a flower and 
 a means which never before existed ! A flower in 
 that fertilization might here have produced a seed 
 of new beauty for flower bearing, and a means 
 whereby that especial flower to be would have been 
 of such a hue as to have attracted the eye and 
 nostril of the most hardened sinner who might 
 have passed that way. 
 
 We are strange and thoughtless creatures, thus 
 to destroy God's handiwork without the least feel- 
 ing or concern. 
 
 Then, too, the very flower of anticipation might 
 have been the means of converting the soul of the 
 very one who crushed it. Every plant's ambition, 
 12 
 
Flowers. 
 
 in so far as it is ambitious, is to present to the 
 world its sonl, for the flower is the soul of the 
 plant. How beautiful must some of our souls be ! 
 Cultivation of the plant body enables that body to 
 produce a finer, purer, more perfect soul, than if 
 the body had been neglected. How long it seems 
 to take for some plants to exhibit their souls, while 
 again others repeat the miracle many times, just 
 in order to persuade us. Yet, even among the 
 flora of the world we can find our Judas and his 
 associates in living unpretentious lives. The hum- 
 ming bird will not dip for nectar into the cup held 
 by the fair white or pink face and hands of the 
 oleander. This lightning messenger knows too 
 well that the money cup is not pure, but contains 
 alloy. We are pleased to cultivate some plants 
 for their physical beauty alone, their grace and 
 symmetry seem to delight us, and we sacrifice the 
 soul in this case for the body. Through the 
 growth of His plants we have a suggestion of 
 God's desire to perfect the soul at the expense of 
 the material portion. 
 
 There is a golden mean to be worked out among 
 men which is seen in the "Lily of the Valley" 
 which was plucked for you and for me on Calvary. 
 For two years the writer has been nourishing a 
 seedling, thinking that perhaps time would tell 
 us something of its meaning. We cannot, by any 
 known means, determine the color of the flower 
 until that flower reveals itself. "We are known by 
 our fruits" is literally true. The conditions fa- 
 vorable to the perfecting of one plant-body and 
 soul will not bring perfection to another. The 
 
 J3 
 
Means. 
 
 palm, the fern and the delicate moss do not en- 
 joy the strong drinks of light so relished by the 
 sunflower; neither do vines, as the wisteria and 
 trumpet-vine, ask for the privilege of decorat- 
 ing the same part of the home as does the moun- 
 tain fringe. In this we can find a parallel to the 
 development of different individuals, morally, 
 spiritually, and intellectually. Some men need to 
 be supported, as do the climbers; while others 
 flourish in the strength they derive from the ordi- 
 nary sources around and about them. We need 
 not all be carried on flowery beds of ease, as ferns 
 and mosses, for we can be, if no more, the moss- 
 covered rocks for the weary travelers. Purpose 
 crowns every work from the Master's hand. We 
 are not wont to believe this, as we travel over this 
 land and notice the hundreds of weeds that seem 
 to live as tramps and paupers; but, when we con- 
 sider that even all such life came by the direct 
 laws of God, we dare not condemn. 
 
 Let the young man or woman who to-day com- 
 plains that the world is crowded, that the pro- 
 fessions are full, and the like, remember that not 
 every disease has found its conqueror; and that in 
 some of the lovely weeds may lurk the medicinal 
 properties for the healing of those particular ail- 
 ments. Whose right is it to discern it? Who 
 could aid humanity better than such an one? 
 Upon this there is no monopoly. 
 
 Then while there is freedom let us use it, lest it 
 slip away and we know it not. One way of detect- 
 ing the medicinal properties is to notice at what 
 flowers the humming bird stops for nectar: the 
 
 14 
 
Flowers. 
 
 ones passed by will generally be of such a charac- 
 ter. Nature is continually making feasts for the 
 insects and birds of the world. At these feasts, 
 as at those made by man, we can detect the cul- 
 tured as well as the unrefined of society. Decora- 
 tions are perfect ; every space is filled with some- 
 thing for the feast of love. 
 
 The skies add the canopy, the large, mirror-like 
 lakes and rivers reflect it and endeavor to make 
 two scenes out of one. The gentle zephyrs serve as 
 messengers, because Nature does not send out in- 
 vitations ; she only creates, and, if in that which 
 she creates directly there is not the component or 
 complement part to Nature's creation, then she 
 deems such a one as unworthy of being her guest. 
 Her menu, however, is not engraven m black and 
 white, but is colored with all the tints of the 
 rainbow, while the listed viands are made known 
 by wafts of perfume. Nature does not withhold 
 her delights for any special season or place. She 
 has so adapted her every plan, to the welfare and 
 concern of her heavenly children that, go where 
 we will, we can find some of her creation. 
 
 This earth is one vast flower garden, and in it 
 are those plants, such as the cacti, capable of en- 
 during the blistering rays of the sun. Look again 
 in the more shaded nooks, governed by trickling 
 waters and diffused light. You will find the deli- 
 cate creations as of some fairy's hand. Look again 
 into the cave, where darkness is the one-eyed giant, 
 and you will find the lens plant, capable of con- 
 verging for its own use the few rays of light that 
 unfortunately enter there. Should we be cast into 
 15 
 
Means. 
 
 a watery grave our casket of ripples and pearly- 
 shells would be covered with the most gorgeous 
 of Nature^s creations — the seaweeds of every hue 
 and tint. Again, let some eagle carry us off and 
 leave us to die on the snow-capped Alps, and we 
 will not be without our flowers; for even there 
 beneath the snow we could find the little feather- 
 covered flower of the Alps. Ah ! we may even be 
 sailing in an airship, until finally we are brought 
 where gravity is neutralized between two opposing 
 forces, and we are left suspended. In this condition 
 could we not spend the remainder of our time look- 
 ing for orchids that might be attached to our ship 
 — air plants ? Ah ! God has not left us comfortless. 
 We have the beauties of creation everywhere 
 around us. Let us see to it that we use them in 
 the way that will best fit us for the heaven above, 
 which will be like one mighty flower, of which we 
 vvill be the petals. Would it not be awful to find 
 on that day of awarding prizes that the petal which 
 your life was to form would be missing? Let us 
 make heaven grand. It lies with us. We can be petals 
 of such extreme whiteness and perfection in Christ 
 that He will consider us worthy of our own high 
 calling. Have you ever wondered at the meaning 
 of the flower? Look at its extreme beauty. 
 Christ took delight in drawing his hearers' eyes 
 and minds to the lilies of the field, and was pleased 
 to say that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed 
 like one of these. What wonderful artists the 
 birds and insects are ! They dip for food, but 
 even in so doing, they deposit a grain of pollen 
 that will perchance be the means of fertilizing a 
 i6 
 
Flowers. 
 
 seed that will, in time, produce a plant, the flower 
 of which will be the first of its kind. Man caught 
 the idea of cross fertilization from the birds and 
 insects. Most seeds are fertilized in this way. 
 This is one of the most vital of Nature's laws. 
 After one has seen the florist walking along the 
 walks of his conservatories with a magnifying 
 glass, taking the pollen from this plant and de- 
 positing it on the pistil of another, we can imagine 
 something of the infiniteness of God. 
 
 Of late years some of the leading magazines 
 of the country have been publishing pictures of 
 homes surrounded by flowers and flower gardens. 
 The originator of the idea should be praised and 
 adored by every lover of God. This very thought 
 will be the means of teaching others to beautify 
 their homes in a similar manner, and this again 
 will be the means of converting the houses in 
 which the Ego lives into a more beautiful mansion. 
 Life is not real until we love Nature and her 
 operations, and have, at our very feet, many of her 
 choicest gems. A brown stone front that costs 
 thousands, and defies storm and tide, if it be 
 unadorned by the graces of Nature, is not half so 
 rich and beautiful as the old gate covered with its 
 hop vine which directs the weary traveler to a 
 pump that once had coursing in its cells living sap 
 — but now living waters from the deep. If, then, 
 the God of Nature is our God, surely we have the 
 right to feel proud. 
 
 Nature seems to delight in surrounding us with 
 flowers. She not only places them beneath our 
 feet for a carpet, but she arranges them in length, 
 
Means. 
 
 from one inch, by successive steps, until they not 
 only kiss our very lips, but also from the trees 
 above hang in festoons, as if beckoning us to look 
 skyward. Have you ever unwrapped the meaning 
 involved in the folds of a morning-glory bud? 
 Notice how nicely and mathematically they are 
 rolled. Open one twelve hours before time for 
 it to expand — and in its expansion present to the 
 world the attitude of one exhorting — and you will 
 be surprised at the difficulty you will experience. 
 Thus it is with the bud of our lives — if we under- 
 take to open it by any other means than the laws 
 set in operation by God, we will have nothing but 
 torn petals and a debauched specimen of trifled 
 ignorance. Let us wait patiently and in due time 
 we shall reap, if we faint not. When do flowers 
 not add charm? Who cannot see in their de- 
 velopment a parallel to our own? Let us take 
 the life of Dante and read it in the language of 
 flowers. 
 
 When a seed is sown no one knows the exact 
 color of the flower that is to spring from it. 
 
 The early history of every plant^s existence is 
 wearisome. If we should watch the clock-work de- 
 velopment we would find nothing of special in- 
 terest. Our faith incites us to feed, water, prune 
 and care for the little seedling, believing that 
 "Future" will have revealed to her a bright star 
 — a star of first magnitude. 
 
 There is an old saying, "April showers bring 
 forth May flowers.'' The condition of Italy must 
 account for in part the plant that was born about 
 the middle of May, 1265. At that time there 
 
 $8 
 
Flowers. 
 
 sprang from Italian soil a plant whose wondrous 
 life and influence was a secret. 
 
 This human plant sprang from seed that was 
 not expected to produce anything of special bene- 
 fit to mankind, either as a healing power, or as 
 a solace for man in his sad hour. Although this 
 plant sprang from a long-lived race, yet that which 
 this whole genius produced was nothing as com- 
 pared to its present side shoot. It is believed by 
 many superstitious people of the present day that 
 seed sown during this time of the year, or during 
 this phase of the moon, or this hour of the day, 
 will bring forth more and better plants than other- 
 wise. It seems, from what history tells us, that 
 this superstitious idea is not of modem creation, 
 but that its life history extends far back into the 
 mysterious ages. The strange-thinking, stranger- 
 believing people of the Middle Ages not only ap- 
 plied this doctrine to the plant kingdom, but even 
 extended it to the human family. Thus we find 
 that the human plant born during the middle of 
 May, 1265, was under the sign of the twins, the 
 glorious stars pregnant with virtue, and to which 
 he owes his genius. 
 
 Astrologers considered this constellation as fa- 
 vorable to literature and science, and Buenitto 
 Latini, his instructor, tells him in the "Inferno" 
 that if he follows its guidance he cannot fail to 
 reach the harbor of fame. We know very little 
 of Dante^s boyhood. We know very little of this 
 plant's early development. After awhile, however, 
 this plant, as all plants that anticipate expanding 
 and giving to the world the glorious possibilities 
 
 19 
 
Means. 
 
 within, forced its roots far down into the rocky 
 and difficult beds of philosophy, theology, as- 
 trology, arithmetic, and geometry. Eeading his- 
 tory, basking in the sunlight of many curious 
 books, and watching and sweating in his studies, 
 he acquired the science which was to adorn and ex- 
 plain his verse. He obtained a firm footing, like 
 that of the sturdy oak, so that when the howling 
 storms of this tempestuous life came upon him he 
 was rooted and grounded in a firm foundation, 
 and might well stand and laugh at the poor, miser- 
 able plants with roots upon the surface. He 
 brought forth fruit. 
 
 In order that any plant may thrive, no matter 
 how strong at first, it must have careful attend- 
 ance. Either the attendant must be a careful hu- 
 man or a more careful Nature. Well, this plant 
 which we will call Dante — for every man who 
 thinks he knows anything about science, and espe- 
 cially higher botany, knows that very early in life 
 he must begin to tack on names — this plant, 
 Dante, had careful, earnest teachers. If the plant 
 was inclined to twine, they supported it; if in- 
 clined to root deeply, they saturated with drops of 
 wisdom the soil. Music was one of the early char- 
 acteristics of this plant. I do not know whether I 
 can find a resemblance here to some other plant, 
 or not, but if botanical plants do not exhibit any 
 love for music, they enrich it by their presence. 
 Dante never wrote sweeter or more melodious lines 
 than those in which he expresses the wish that he 
 might '^e wafted by enchantments over the sea, 
 wheresoever they might list." 
 
 20 
 
Flowers. 
 
 We have now arrived at the period of transplant- 
 ing. Every successful plant grower always trans- 
 plants his seedlings several times. The very 
 young slip or seedling grows in sand. Dante thus 
 first grew in studies of early youth, but now he is 
 given the more sturdy soil. He is beginning to be 
 buffeted. Take two young plants equally strong 
 and equally well developed, and place them under 
 different conditions, under different circumstances, 
 different environments, and note the results. One 
 grows stronger, the other weaker. 
 
 Dante, like Milton, v/as trained by the strictest 
 academical education, yet Dante lived under a 
 warmer sun and brighter sky than Milton; and 
 found in the rich variety and gayety of his early 
 life a defence against the withering misfortune 
 of his later years. We cannot predict just what 
 will take place in regard to a plant. The sturdi- 
 ness thereof is not determined by its height under 
 a clear sk}^, but only when the howling tempests of 
 politics, if you please, assail it. Our plant, after 
 his transplanting, grows rapidly. Every plant has 
 assimilative organs. So in this one, Dante, we 
 find not onlv assimilative processes at work, but a 
 concentration of the spirit of the Middle Ages. 
 He is, in his very concentrating, preparing to ex- 
 pand and send forth into the world that for which 
 almost every plant is raised; namely, its flowers, 
 then its fruit. 
 
 The true and lasting fruit of mankind is the 
 
 fruit of the head. A plant not only impoverishes 
 
 the soil upon which it grows, but it will, if left, 
 
 again fertilize it. So Dante fertilized the Italian 
 
 2J 
 
Means. 
 
 linguistic soil. He made it richer and better, and 
 therefore more able to bring forth well developed 
 plants. 
 
 As we look at certain flowers and drink in their 
 meaning, we are charmed. Our aesthetic natures 
 are elevated, our standard of joy is raised. A 
 home may be unknown, but when it contains some 
 marvel, either in the plant or man family, it be- 
 comes immortalized. "Dante, like Virgil, could 
 immortalize, by a simple expression, a person, a 
 place, or a phase of Nature." This power, a gift 
 from God, cannot be acquired. 
 
 There is, however, a more striking similarity — 
 to paint word pictures between Dante and Milton. 
 The flower upon this plant is now being revealed. 
 The bud was beautiful; no doubt the expanding 
 flower will be superb. Behold, it opens, it dazzles 
 the eye, and, I dare add, it continues for many, 
 many years to blind the j)eople so that they do not 
 see its beauty until it begins to wane. They only 
 realized its extreme significance when they beheld 
 the fruit. Dante's "Inferno" could not have been 
 the fruit of a plant whose roots were fibrous. It 
 took a plant with mighty fabric to breathe into ex- 
 istence such fruit. Recall to your mind its vivid 
 color-descriptions and its symmetry. Think of 
 the strain upon the fiber of the plant. Imagine 
 the fertilizing power. Conceive of his imagina- 
 tive power. Yet, Dante's was not without founda- 
 tion, and it is an easy matter to see where he ob- 
 tained much of his material. It is a biological 
 fact that more plants or rather more flowers are 
 fertilized by cross than by self fertilization. 
 22 
 
Flowers. 
 
 So we can pick out certain colors, verses that 
 must have come from that other flower which we 
 will call Virgil. Then in Canto thirty-third we 
 find these words : 
 
 "There very weeping suffers not to weep. 
 For at their eyes, grief, seeking passage, finds 
 Impeachment, and rolling inward turns 
 For increase of sharp anguish; the first tears 
 Hang clustered, and like crystal vigors show. 
 Under the socket brimming all the cup/' 
 
 It is well known that people who are ofttimes 
 the most grieved cannot shed tears. Did not 
 Dante know this ? Birds, insects, winds, man and 
 beasts are agents in carrying the pollen grains 
 from one flower to another. Did not these help to 
 fertilize the flower nnder consideration? But, 
 alas, even his old age, which was spent in poverty, 
 finds its parallel. For do not most plants, after 
 they have produced their fruit, sink and die un- 
 noticed ? 
 
 This particular human plant died Sept. 14, 
 1321, but, like every flower that brings forth its 
 seed, Dante died to live. Not only more glori- 
 ously in this present world, but I hope also in that 
 New Jerusalem, where he will be brought to even 
 greater perfection. The fallen petals from this 
 flower repose in Ravenna, and they seem as precious 
 as the rose leaves in our most costly rose jars. 
 The seed from a certain plant lives for a short 
 time, only as distinct types of that flower; so 
 23 
 
Means. 
 
 Dante's direct line of descent became extinct in 
 1509. 
 
 We have among the flora of the world a lens 
 plant; like it, we may liken Dante nnto a mighty- 
 lens. "For whatever there was of piety, of phi- 
 losophy, of poetry, of love of Nature, and of love 
 of knowledge in those days was drawn to a focus 
 in his writings." In the light of onr comparison, 
 then, who dare say that we are not the children 
 of God and of Nature ! 
 
 We are not only intimately but vitally bound up 
 with nature. Her laws and the principles gov- 
 erning her operations rule and control us. Love 
 Nature and you will love her Maker. Emerson 
 in speaking of "gifts" says: "FloAvers are always 
 fit presents because they remind us that a ray of 
 beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world." 
 
 Have we not all seen this exemplified in the 
 case of the sick ! Have not flowers — a bouquet of 
 roses or carnations perchance — spoken directly to 
 you of a Father's love ? These pure and untainted 
 daughters of Nature are worthy of preaching be- 
 cause so pure, and they become doubly significant 
 when accompanied by a sainted person or a prayer. 
 Alas, how often do we tarry and only send our 
 messengers to speak to a cold, lifeless body! 
 Would it not be better to lay the roses and lilies in 
 compliment upon the caskets in which our friends 
 now live, rather than upon the coflins in which 
 their bodies shall lie when the crape hangs upon 
 the door ! It has pleased some one to translate for 
 us the language of flowers and their bodies. 
 
 How surely he knew that vital subject who 
 24 
 
Flowers. 
 
 called the ivy friendship. Surely it takes an 
 Emerson or a Black thus to speak. 
 
 Almost all of our flowers have thus been trans- 
 lated into our Anglo-Saxon tongue. 
 
 I sometimes wonder if flowers do not converse 
 one with another. They inter-marry, why not 
 speak ? "A Snap-Shot of Spring," written by the 
 author, can best speak at this point. 
 
 Springtime is springtime because all animated 
 matter seems to spring. After the glossy patent 
 leather shoes of the streams and lakes have cracked 
 and no longer add beauty to the snug and artistic 
 costume of Mr. Winter, when the myriad crystals 
 of dazzling brilliants composing his costume have 
 been picked by the nimble fingers of the sunbeams, 
 and his icicle-filled canes have met the lips of the 
 joyous school boys, he takes his hat of St. Patrick's 
 green and waves adieu, leaving only the aroma of 
 his pines for the breezes to waft on as a menu to 
 the world of sense. The menu is understood ; and 
 almost simultaneously the eye sees the advanced 
 guards, with their lanterns of gold. Thus the 
 dandelion has fulfilled its mission, until it forms 
 a white silk parasol for the vigilant ant. Every 
 atom which contains life is at work. Even the 
 vibrating air brings to us the melody from the red 
 bird perched in yonder tree. How patiently he 
 sits, trying to coax the blossoms from their downy 
 bud chamxbers. 
 
 Aroused, listening, yawning, the waxy curtain 
 is drawn aside and, with all the beauty and pomp 
 of a bride, the apple blossoms appear, blushing 
 and reflecting in their cheeks of angelic white- 
 
 35 
 
Means. 
 
 ness the color of their serenader. Looking be- 
 neath, one sees a carpet of delicate green, covered 
 here and there with a rug of spring beauties. Oh ! 
 where is the harpist with skill as great as the 
 snowy pebbles which give forth the music on this 
 joyous occasion? Closer observation reveals the 
 fact that all Nature, from 
 
 The grasshopper to the hopping toad 
 That sits m yonder dusty road, 
 Down to the insects of a thousand colors — 
 Painted hy some unknown artist or other 
 
 gives step. 
 
 At our feet we notice the tiny seedling, with 
 its leaf -like hands extended, as if in prayer, thank- 
 ing God for the message embodied in every rain- 
 drop. What Muse has sung to us of the beauty 
 and meaning encased and liquidized in every rain- 
 drop? Is it that God liquidizes his messages for 
 the seeds asleep in the ground? Add to all this 
 the linguistic school of the flowers conversing 
 with each other in the voice of perfume, teaching 
 each other their individual tongues by means of 
 the butterfly and lightning-winged humming bird 
 which dips into every nectary of nectarian knowl- 
 edge, and you will have springtime fairly begun. 
 
 Flowers not only remind us that spring has 
 come, but they speak to us of the arrival of many 
 seasons. Divine service has always a greater in- 
 fluence when we are listening to song and prayer, 
 while our eyes are feasting upon a splendidly dec- 
 orated cathedral. The revealed word is but one 
 
 26 
 
Flowers. 
 
 volume of God's revelation to us. Nature is 
 His picture book. We are children in the 
 love of Christ; and since the child, in intellect, 
 can be taught by means of objects, so we in the 
 realm of the Spirit of Power can best be educated 
 by having combined pressure of both volumes 
 at the same time. Again, what would weddings be 
 without flowers? Are they not the truest brides 
 on earth? A woman without flowers, at this re- 
 ception or that ball, is considered less refined 
 than she who appears with them. You may call 
 it custom. Well — more than that — it is a noble 
 custom. It gives me great pleasure to see the 
 maid as well as the older lady of fashion wear 
 flowers in their bonnets. Indeed these precious 
 souls seem to have felt that the dainty fingers 
 of fair women would pluck them, and so they grew 
 that they might wilt, and, therefore be useless for 
 such decorations. I would that the birds, the 
 jewels of the air, had been as thoughtful. 
 
 A bouquet of dainty flowers and vines will 
 make any dinner more palatable. Have you 
 watched your feelings when some one pulls a 
 weed from among your flowers, as the same person 
 destroys the plant or simply the flower growing 
 next? What causes the difference in feeling? 
 Do we let this same attitude creep over us when 
 the mortals round us are snatched away by some 
 unseen hand? Because we cannot see beauty is 
 it a sign that it is absent ? Perhaps it is our pre- 
 rogative, since it was given us to have command 
 over all things beneath us. 
 
 With .what concern we labor among our plants, 
 
 27 
 
Means. 
 
 endeavoring to bring them to physical beauty, 
 while perhaps our neighbor, as to mortals, or even 
 a brother or sister, is dying from the effects of 
 sin. When will man learn to know God aright? 
 He gave ns both, but one is not to have the ascen- 
 dency over the other ; and especially not the lesser 
 of the two kingdoms. It means much to lose a 
 valuable plant; but it means the loss of heaven 
 to lose one's soul. What color is the lily to which 
 Christ referred? Many people will say, "white," 
 but consult H. B. Green and he will say "red." 
 This is but another illustration of the way in 
 which we are wont to form judgments — circumstan- 
 tial evidence seems to rule the court'sdecision. Not 
 only flowers, but men and women, have suffered 
 from lack of knowledge in passing judgment. 
 This gives us some idea of the scope of our thoughts 
 and of the degree of firmness with which they hold 
 and rule us. It is difficult for us to judge cor- 
 rectly. Some will prefer one plant, and some an- 
 other, because the first bears a single large flower, 
 while the second gives birth to dozens of dainty 
 drops of dew. In the same way and for similar 
 reasons, we are anxious to shower praises upon some 
 one because he gives thousands of dollars for the 
 building of a home for the aged or poor, while the 
 one who, with less, but a heart full of Christian 
 love, gives, as it were, her mite, which falls as the 
 dew upon the parched lips of some fevered pa- 
 tient, passes unnoticed. Oh, that we had the 
 lens-like mind of God! 
 
 Again, notice how a vine will reach forth its 
 tendrils in search of something to which it can 
 23 
 
Flowers. 
 
 cling; and observe its choice as to what that sup- 
 port shall be. 
 
 The sensitive plant seems to have nerves, and, 
 indeed, we dare not deny it. The pitcher plant, 
 so choice in the selection of its food, is like unto 
 the Venus fly trap — both are carnivorous. All 
 this simply teaches us that the depths and mean- 
 ing of nature have not yet reached solution. The 
 best of mathematicians can give us reothing more 
 exact in construction of squares, triangles and 
 hexagons, etc. — than can Nature. Ask yourself. 
 To what is the color due ? and then read concern- 
 ing the various theories. Note how the blood, or 
 perhaps you say sap, since the corpuscles are all 
 white, courses through root, stem, and leaves. 
 Watch with what care the tree, by the inherent 
 law of its nature, seeks to heal over a wound in- 
 flicted on its body. Do not all these considera- 
 tions bring a multitude of questions to the very 
 tip of your tongue? Search for the perfume 
 gland. It is not always on the petal, but some- 
 times in the corolla-like throat or even on the stem 
 supporting it, as if to conceal from the impudent 
 botanist the secret spring. He who does not see 
 God in Nature is either insane or heartless. 
 
 An artist may dip her brush and paint, but the 
 lifelike touch is missing. The dew fails to ac- 
 cumulate on the petals of her creation. The seed 
 never ripens, and the perfume is never scattered 
 by the invisible atomizer. 
 
 Nevertheless, let the artist labor on. It broad- 
 ens her soul just to know that she cannot. Let 
 the sculptor continue to mold or rather to unfold, 
 
 29 
 
Means. 
 
 for it will likewise reveal to him the need of a 
 Master teacher. The rainbow is the palette from 
 which Nature obtains her colors. If this be true 
 how much more true is it that Christ is the palette 
 from which you and I are to secure those colors; 
 and to be taught the use of the same, to paint our 
 truest and best likeness in Him. 
 
 30 
 
Light. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LIGHT. 
 
 Light has had its embryo state as well as man. 
 The primitive stage of light, however, was be- 
 cause of the condition of men. Is it possible 
 that the full splendor of artificial light was taken 
 from man^s store of knowledge at the sinning of 
 our parents, when concern for the future crept 
 again into the hearts of the children of men? 
 Is it possible that a means of lighting that future 
 spontaneously crept into existence? 
 
 Perhaps the flint, tallow-dip, oil lamp, gas 
 and electric light stages of light only represent 
 to us our loss of time and opportunity. We might 
 have had the last at first had not our first parents 
 snuffed the flame given them by divine right. 
 
 As it is we can glance back and note the degree 
 of light as it existed in men during the ages. 
 Then, too, we can easily detect the parallel ad- 
 vance made by man as he was accompanied and 
 tutored by light. Thus light has come to be 
 a Means. How strange is the contrast between 
 light and darkness! We are supposed to have 
 lived in the light during the past, but as we now 
 recall the past it was darkness. 
 
 The glory of the present hour .will be the 
 3S 
 
Means. 
 
 shadow of the future light, just as the light of 
 yesterday has become the shadow of the brilliancy 
 of to-day. With light comes life and opportunity. 
 How could our ancestors have lived as we do, we 
 having a brighter light? It is not strange, when 
 we are reminded of the part played by light, that 
 the people of old were wont to worship the sun. 
 Surely they felt within themselves a desire for 
 light and their greatest source was that of Helios. 
 To us the sun is simply the orb of light, around 
 which our earth not only revolves, but upon 
 which its very existence depends. If, then, the 
 men of primitive intellect worshipped the only 
 source of terrestrial life, surely since they have 
 bequeathed to us so great a blessing, we should 
 remember the Golden Eule, and will to our pos- 
 terity a well-defined knowledge of the true source 
 of spiritual light and life. How silently and yet 
 how completely do the little messengers of light 
 drive the fairies of darkness into places of safety 
 and retreat! We do not hear the tread of feet 
 or the shouts of command, but only the lookers- 
 on remind us that the conflict is at hand. Pres- 
 ently we find the dark-robed fairies of the night 
 crouched under bushes, behind pictures, in cellars 
 and caves. There they are pleased to wait until 
 the captain of the Sun's hosts reclines for a nap. 
 The Captain of our Salvation never reclines, but, 
 nevertheless, the fairies of darkness in our hearts 
 come forth and sometimes endeavor to conquer the 
 greater power. The latter conflict is not without 
 strife. The war between the forces with which 
 men are so closely connected is much more vital 
 32 
 
Light. 
 
 and significant than the mere force of plant life. 
 We have all seen the vegetable as it commenced to 
 grow in the dark. The bulb or tuber has within 
 itself all the elements of growth; the moisture, 
 heat and light are but aids. Yet how true are 
 those aids. Man at one time had lurking within 
 himself all the conditions of spiritual growth, 
 but they were lost and had to be regained. The 
 plant that grows in the dark is etiolated, yet it 
 grows. Place this plant in the sunlight and watch 
 the transformation. See how the chlorophyl 
 granules are manufactured and distributed 
 throughout the plant. The stomata and water 
 pores now function perfectly and we are pleased 
 to style the vegetating plant healthy. Thus it 
 was the light that caused health. Every plant 
 contains within itself light, but the light is its 
 life and can only be used to collect more light, 
 consequently more life. A plant, as well as our 
 bodies, is condensed light. Our bodies are simply 
 plants cultivated for their fruit, the spirit. The 
 flower is the soul of the plant. Let us see. The 
 plant grov/s by an inherent law, but that law 
 demands light, among other things. If the plant 
 die touch it with light, and it becomes light, 
 save the small amount of glue and nails with 
 which the light was held. We feed upon the vege- 
 table, animal and mineral kingdoms, all of which 
 are the products of light. Thus v/e can be re- 
 duced to a condensed mass of light. 
 
 Light -can be held; all that we lack is that 
 substance which can v/ithstand the heat. 
 
 Heat is not only characteristic of the light of 
 33 
 
Means. 
 
 the sun, but we can easily detect the glow in the 
 man lighted by the Christ Man. Take one who 
 is cold and indifferent toward Christianity, who 
 displays no activity in the realm of saints. Touch 
 such an one with a coal from the altar of heaven, 
 and you will find that in him are the oil and the 
 wick of the flame of love. 
 
 To show the warmth of the flame, let us take 
 a glance at the life of George Muller, of Bristol. 
 Perhaps we would better look at the George 
 Miiller of Heimersleben, if we would see him be- 
 fore the wick was light. How cold, and indif- 
 ferent — yea, even wicked and despisable he was, 
 but after the Wagner ipvayer meeting he was 
 changed to a man in whom the flame began to 
 make heat. Heat causes expansion — because, as 
 we have said, it is condensed light. So when the 
 heat from the Christian flame began to play in 
 him, he, too, began to expand, because he could not 
 prevent it. There is no substance which can with- 
 stand or contain the heat from Christ. Here is 
 the difference. George Miiller began at once to 
 expand, and with that expansion came light, so 
 that to-day, though the original flame has died, 
 there remain a multitude of flames bearing light 
 and heat in every part of the world. The two 
 thousand for whom he cared are the living lights 
 of to-day. They are the Means. Then, too, his 
 life story, written by Dr. Pierson, is another light 
 placed upon a hill. I would rather, yea, a thou- 
 sand times rather, have my own immortal flame 
 extinguished by the very darkness of hell than to 
 have it known at the mercy seat of God that the 
 34 
 
Light. 
 
 waves of sin generated by me caused another flame 
 to flicker. Darkness, which is negative, is com- 
 parable to sadness. Although darkness brought our 
 woe into existence, we can use it just as the Mas- 
 ter uses sadness, to ripen those fruits which are 
 not mellowed by the sun and its companion cheer- 
 fulness. 
 
 We rest during the dark hours of the night ; we 
 build up, or rather we are built up by the very 
 forces which darkness calls into action — once to 
 deteriorate, again to elevate. This is proof posi- 
 tive that sin is sin's vital enemy. God separated 
 the light from the dark. He made each for a spe- 
 cial purpose, and they must so be used by us. 
 Darkness contains some light. Since the sun first 
 lighted the earth there has never been total dark- 
 ness. Light is light, but there are degrees of in- 
 tensity. The intense light of the sun is for a 
 purpose, and likewise the filtered light of the 
 forest. Oaks cannot grow to perfection in caves, 
 neither can ferns and mosses reach their ideal in 
 the burning heat of unmolested sun rays. It is 
 a peculiar fact, but nevertheless true, that the light 
 of Christ is often too powerful for the young and 
 tender shoot. A young man can be raised in a 
 Christian home and yet not be a Christian, but 
 let such an one come under an influence less in- 
 tense, and he wall in most instances begin to grow, 
 until finally he is able to bask in the full splendor 
 of a healthy Christian influence. Such an one is 
 but a fern that must be permitted to sleep in the 
 sifted light, as it gently falls through the leaves 
 of trees. He must recline on moss-covered couches 
 
 35 
 
Means. 
 
 ■until he gains strength enough to enter the fiery 
 furnace and be untouched. All birds were not 
 made to soar in the direct path of the heavenly 
 diamond. Their eyes cannot stand the glitter. 
 
 The eagle seems to defy the bold^ audacious look 
 of old Helios, while the delicate humming bird 
 darts here and there as if to flee from his pene- 
 trating gaze. It is not always he who seems even 
 to revel in the splendor and sublimity of Christian 
 loveliness that is clothed with the brightest plum- 
 age of Christ-like perfection, and beauty; for 
 very often do we find the dazzling colors of fine 
 art, and the tints and hues of the dawn in the 
 garment of some poor unknown Christian mother 
 alone with her God and His Word. God made 
 each one of us with an organ of sight, adapted 
 to the various degrees of light and to the pov/er of 
 discrimination. We look at yonder flower garden 
 and feast our poor souls by means of the avenue of 
 sight. The eye is the most delicate, most sen- 
 sitive, part of the human structure. Why did God 
 in His all-perfect vision see fit to so equip us? 
 Surely there was a purpose. 
 
 Not only are human eyes sensitive to the various 
 colors, but even those of the birds and insects; 
 but if we, like the fish in caves, do not use our 
 eyes, they will in time become negative. How 
 awful it seems to us, as we look at another whose 
 eyes are closed to the beauties of this world! 
 Think of those great historic souls — eyeless — yet 
 they lived, not only unto their own day and gen- 
 eration, but also for the generations to come. If, 
 then, Sadness touches our hearts with her trem- 
 36 
 
Flowers. 
 
 We have now arrived at the period of transplant- 
 ing. Every successful plant grower always trans- 
 plants his seedlings several times. The very 
 young slip or seedling grows in sand. Dante thus 
 first grew in studies of early youth, but now he is 
 given the more sturdy soil. He is beginning to be 
 buffeted. Take two young plants equally strong 
 and equally well developed, and place them under 
 different conditions, under different circumstances, 
 different environments, and note the results. One 
 grows stronger, the other weaker. 
 
 Dante, like Milton, was trained by the strictest 
 academical education, yet Dante lived under a 
 warmer sun and brighter sky than Milton; and 
 found in the rich variety and gayety of his early 
 life a defence against the withering misfortune 
 of his later years. We cannot predict just what 
 will take place in regard to a plant. The sturdi- 
 ness thereof is not determined by its height under 
 a clear sky, but only when the howling tempests of 
 politics, if you please, assail it. Our plant, after 
 his transplanting, grows rapidly. Every plant has 
 assimilative organs. vSo in this one, Dante, we 
 find not onlv assimilative processes at work, but a 
 concentration of the spirit of the Middle Ages. 
 He is, in his very concentrating, preparing to ex- 
 pand and send forth into the world that for which 
 almost every plant is raised; namely, its flowers, 
 then its fruit. 
 
 The true and lasting fruit of mankind is the 
 
 fruit of the head. A plant not only impoverishes 
 
 the soil upon which it grows, but it will, if left, 
 
 again fertilize it. So Dante fertilized the Italian 
 
 2i 
 
Means. 
 
 linguistic soil. He made it richer and better, and 
 therefore more able to bring forth well developed 
 plants. 
 
 As we look at certain flowers and drink in their 
 meaning, we are charmed. Our aesthetic natures 
 are elevated, our standard of joy is raised. A 
 home may be unknown, but when it contains some 
 marvel, either in the plant or man family, it be- 
 comes immortalized. "Dante, like Virgil, could 
 immortalize, by a simple expression, a person, a 
 place, or a phase of Nature.'' This power, a gift 
 from God, cannot be acquired. 
 
 There is, however, a more striking similarity — 
 to paint word pictures between Dante and Milton. 
 The flower upon this plant is now being revealed. 
 The bud was beautiful; no doubt the expanding 
 flower Vvdll be superb. Behold, it opens, it dazzles 
 the eye, and, I dare add, it continues for many, 
 many years to blind the people so that they do not 
 see its beauty until it begins to wane. They only 
 realized its extreme significance v/hen they beheld 
 the fruit. Dante's "Inferno" could not have been 
 the fruit of a plant whose roots were fibrous. It 
 took a plant with mighty fabric to breathe into ex- 
 istence such fruit. Recall to your mind its vivid 
 color-descriptions and its symmetry. Think of 
 the strain upon the fiber of the plant. Imagine 
 the fertilizing power. Conceive of his imagina- 
 tive power. Yet, Dante's was not without founda- 
 tion, and it is an easy matter to see where he ob- 
 tained much of his material. It is a biological 
 fact that more plants or rather more flowers are 
 fertilized by cross than by self fertilization. 
 
 22 
 
Flowers. 
 
 So we can pick out certain colors, verses that 
 must have come from that other flower which we 
 will call Virgil. Then in Canto thirty-third we 
 find these words : 
 
 ''There very tveeping suffers not to weep. 
 For at their eyes, grief, seehing passage, finds 
 Impeachment, and rolling inward turns 
 For increase of sharp anguish; the first tears 
 Hang clustered, and like crystal vigors show. 
 Under the socket hrimming all the cupf 
 
 It is well known that people who are ofttimes 
 the most grieved cannot shed tears. Did not 
 Dante know this ? Birds, insects, winds, man and 
 beasts are agents in carrying the pollen grains 
 from one flower to another. Did not these help to 
 fertilize the flower under consideration? But, 
 alas, even his old age, which was spent in poverty, 
 finds its parallel. For do not most plants, after 
 they have produced their fruit, sink and die un- 
 noticed ? 
 
 This particular human plant died Sept. 14, 
 1321, but, like every flower that brings forth its 
 seed, Dante died to live. Not only more glori- 
 ously in this present world, but I hope also in that 
 New Jerusalem, where he will be brought to even 
 greater perfection. The fallen petals from this 
 flower repose in Ravenna, and they seem as precious 
 as the rose leaves in our most costly rose jars. 
 The seed from a certain plant lives for a short 
 time, only as distinct types of that flowery so 
 23 
 
Means. 
 
 Dante's direct line of descent became extinct in 
 1509. 
 
 We have among the flora of the world a lens 
 plant; like it, we may liken Dante nnto a mighty 
 lens. "For whatever there was of piety, of phi- 
 losophy, of poetry, of love of Nature, and of love 
 of knowledge in those days was drawn to a focus 
 in his writings." In the light of our comparison, 
 then, who dare say that we are not the children 
 of God and of Nature ! 
 
 We are not only intimately but vitally bound up 
 with nature. Her laws and the principles gov- 
 erning her operations rule and control us. Love 
 Nature and you will love her Maker. Emerson 
 in speaking of "gifts" says: "Flowers are always 
 fit presents because they remind us that a ray of 
 beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world." 
 
 Have we not all seen this exemplified in the 
 case of the sick ! Have not flowers — a bouquet of 
 roses or carnations perchance — spoken directly to 
 you of a Father^s love ? These pure and untainted 
 daughters of Nature are worthy of preaching be- 
 cause so pure, and they become doubly significant 
 when accompanied by a sainted person or a prayer. 
 Alas, how often do we tarry and only send our 
 messengers to speak to a cold, lifeless body! 
 Would it not be better to lay the roses and lilies in 
 compliment upon the caskets in which our friends 
 now live, rather than upon the coffins in which 
 their bodies shall lie when the crape hangs upon 
 the door ! It has pleased some one to translate for 
 us the language of flowers and their bodies. 
 
 How surely he knew that vital subject who 
 24 
 
Flowers. 
 
 called the ivy friendship. Surely it takes an 
 Emerson or a Black thus to speak. 
 
 Almost all of our flowers have thus been trans- 
 lated into our Anglo-Saxon tongue. 
 
 I sometimes wonder if flowers do not converse 
 one with another. They inter-marry, why not 
 speak? "A Snap-Shot of Spring/' written by the 
 author, can best speak at this point. 
 
 Springtime is springtime because all animated 
 matter seems to spring. After the glossy patent 
 leather shoes of the streams and lakes have cracked 
 and no longer add beauty to the snug and artistic 
 costume of Mr. Winter, when the myriad crystals 
 of dazzling brilliants composing his costume have 
 been picked by the nimble fingers of the sunbeams, 
 and his icicle-filled canes have met the lips of the 
 joyous school boys, he takes his hat of St. Patrick's 
 green and waves adieu, leaving only the aroma of 
 his pines for the breezes to waft on as a menu to 
 the world of sense. The menu is understood ; and 
 almost simultaneously the eye sees the advanced 
 guards, with their lanterns of gold. Thus the 
 dandelion has fulfilled its mission, until it forms 
 a white silk parasol for the vigilant ant. Every 
 atom which contains life is at work. Even the 
 vibrating air brings to us the melody from the red 
 bird perched in yonder tree. How patiently he 
 sits, trying to coax the blossoms from their downy 
 bud chambers. 
 
 Aroused, listening, yawning, the waxy curtain 
 
 is drawn aside and, with all the beauty and pomp 
 
 of a bride, the apple blossoms appear, blushing 
 
 and reflecting in their cheeks of angelic white- 
 
 25 
 
Means. 
 
 ness the color of their serenader. Looking be- 
 neath, one sees a carpet of delicate green, covered 
 here and there with a rug of spring beauties. Oh ! 
 where is the harpist with skill as great as the 
 snowy pebbles which give forth the music on this 
 joyous occasion? Closer observation reveals the 
 fact that all Nature, from 
 
 The grasshopper to the hopping toad 
 That sits in yonder dusty road, 
 Down to the insects of a thousand colors — 
 Painted hy some unknown artist or other 
 
 gives step. 
 
 ^t our feet we notice the tiny seedling, with 
 its leaf-like hands extended, as if in prayer, thank- 
 ing God for the message embodied in every rain- 
 drop. What Muse has sung to us of the beauty 
 and meaning encased and liquidized in every rain- 
 drop? Is it that God liquidizes his messages for 
 the seeds asleep in the ground? Add to all this 
 the linguistic school of the flowers conversing 
 with each other in the voice of perfume, teaching 
 each other their individual tongues by means of 
 the butterfly and lightning-winged humming bird 
 which dips into every nectary of nectarian knowl- 
 edge, and you will have springtime fairly begun. 
 
 Flowers not only remind us that spring has 
 come, but they speak to us of the arrival of many 
 seasons. Divine service has always a greater in- 
 fluence when we are listening to song and prayer, 
 while our eyes are feasting upon a splendidly dec- 
 orated cathedral. The revealed word is but one 
 
 26 
 
Flowers, 
 
 volume of God's revelation to us. Nature is 
 His picture book. We are children m the 
 love of Christ; and since the child, m intellect, 
 can be taught by means of objects, so we m the 
 realm of the Spirit of Power can best be educated 
 bv having combined pressure of both volumes 
 at the same time. Again, what would weddings be 
 without flowers? Are they not the truest brides 
 on earth? A woman without flowers, at this re- 
 ception or that ball, is considered less refined 
 than she who appears with them. You may call 
 it custom. Well— more than that— it is a noble 
 custom. It gives me great pleasure to see the 
 maid as well as the older lady of fashion wear 
 flowers in their bonnets. Indeed these precious 
 souls seem to have felt that the dainty fingers 
 of fair women would pluck them, and so they grew 
 that they might wilt, and, therefore be useless for 
 such decorations. I would that the birds, the 
 jewels of the air, had been as thoughtful. 
 
 A bouquet of dainty flowers and vines will 
 make any dinner more palatable. Have you 
 watched your feelings when some one puils a 
 weed from among your flowers, as the same person 
 destroys the plant or simply the flower growing 
 next? What causes the diflerence m feeling? 
 Do we let this same attitude creep over us when 
 the mortals round us are snatched away by sonie 
 unseen hand? Because we cannot see beauty is 
 it a sign that it is absent? Perhaps it is our pre- 
 rogative, since it was given us to have command 
 over all things beneath us. 
 
 With what concern we labor among our plants, 
 
 27 
 
Means. 
 
 endeavoring to bring them to physical beauty, 
 while perhaps our neighbor, as to mortals, or even 
 a brother or sister, is dying from the effects of 
 sin. When will man learn to know God aright? 
 He gave ns both, but one is not to have the ascen- 
 dency over the other ; and especially not the lesser 
 of the two kingdoms. It means much to lose a 
 valuable plant; but it means the loss of heaven 
 to lose one's soul. What color is the lily to which 
 Christ referred? Many people will say, "white,'' 
 but consult H. B. Green and he will say "red." 
 This is but another illustration of the way in 
 which we are wont to form judgments — circumstan- 
 tial evident seems to rule the court'sdecision. Not 
 only flowers, but men and women, have suffered 
 from lack of knowledge in passing judgment. 
 This gives us mme idea of the scope of our thoughts 
 and of the degree of firmness with which they hold 
 and rule us. It is difficult for us to judge cor- 
 rectly. Some will prefer one plant, and some an- 
 other, because the first bears a single large flower, 
 while the second gives birth to dozens of dainty 
 drops of dew. In the same way and for similar 
 reasons, we are anxious to shower praises upon some 
 one because he gives thousands of dollars for the 
 building of a home for the aged or poor, while the 
 one who, with less, but a heart full of Christian 
 love, gives, as it were, her mite, which falls as the 
 dew upon the parched lips of some fevered pa- 
 tient, passes unnoticed. Oh, that we had the 
 lens-like mind of God! 
 
 Again, notice how a vine will reach forth its 
 tendrils in search of something to which it can 
 28 
 
Flowers. 
 
 cling; and observe its choice as to what that sup- 
 port shall be. 
 
 The sensitive plant seems to have nerves, and, 
 indeed, we dare not deny it. The pitcher plant, 
 so choice in the selection of its food, is like unto 
 the Venus fly trap — both are carnivorous. All 
 this simply teaches us that the depths and mean- 
 ing of nature have not yet reached solution. The 
 best of mathematicians can give us Dothing more 
 exact in construction of squares, triangles and 
 hexagons, etc. — than can Nature. Ask yourself, 
 To what is the color due? and then read concern- 
 ing the various theories. Note how the blood, or 
 perhaps you say sap, since the corpuscles are all 
 white, courses through root, stem, and leaves. 
 Watch with what care the tree, by the inherent 
 law of its nature, seeks to heal over a wound in- 
 flicted on its body. Do not all these considera- 
 tions bring a multitude of questions to the very 
 tip of your tongue? Search for the perfume 
 gland. It is not always on the petal, but some- 
 times in the corolla-like throat or even on the stem 
 supporting it, as if to conceal from the impudent 
 botanist the secret spring. He who does not see 
 God in Nature is either insane or heartless. 
 
 An artist may dip her brush and paint, but the 
 lifelike touch is missing. The dew fails to ac- 
 cumulate on the petals of her creation. The seed 
 never ripens, and the perfume is never scattered 
 by the invisible atomizer. 
 
 Nevertheless, let the artist labor on. It broad- 
 ens her soul just to know that she cannot. Let 
 the sculptor continue to mold or rather to unfold, 
 29 
 
Means. 
 
 for it will likewise reveal to him the need of a 
 Master teacher. The rainbow is the palette from 
 which Nature obtains her colors. If this be true 
 how much more true is it that Christ is the palette 
 from which you and I are to secure those colors; 
 and to be taught the use of the same, to paint our 
 truest and best likeness in Him. 
 
 30 
 
Light 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 LIGHT. 
 
 Light has had its embryo state as well as man. 
 The primitive stage of light, however, was be- 
 cause of the condition of men. Is it possible 
 that the full splendor of artificial light was taken 
 from man's store of knowledge at the sinning of 
 our parents, when concern for the future crept 
 again into the hearts of the children of men? 
 Is it possible that a means of lighting that future 
 spontaneously crept into existence? 
 
 Perhaps the flint, tallow-dip, oil lamp, gas 
 and electric light stages of light only represent 
 to us our loss of time and opportunity. We might 
 have had the last at first had not our first parents 
 snuffed the flame given them by divine right. 
 
 As it is we can glance back and note the degree 
 of light as it existed in men during the ages. 
 Then, too, we can easily detect the parallel ad- 
 vance made by man as he was accompanied and 
 tutored by light. Thus light has come to be 
 a Means. How strange is the contrast between 
 light and darkness ! We are supposed to have 
 lived in the light during the past, but as we now 
 recall the past it was darkness. 
 
 The glory of the present hour will be the 
 
 31 
 
Means. 
 
 shadow of the future light, just as the light of 
 yesterday has become the shadow of the brilliancy 
 of to-day. With light comes life and opportunity. 
 How could our ancestors have lived as we do, we 
 having a brighter light? It is not strange, when 
 we are reminded of the part played by light, that 
 the people of old were wont to worship the sun. 
 Surely they felt within themselves a desire for 
 light and their greatest source was that of Helios. 
 To us the sun is simply the orb of light, around 
 which our earth not only revolves, but upon 
 which its very existence depends. If, then, the 
 men of primitive intellect worshipped the only 
 source of terrestrial life, surely since they have 
 bequeathed to us so great a blessing, we should 
 remember the Golden Eule, and will to our pos- 
 terity a well-defined knowledge of the true source 
 of spiritual light and life. How silently and yet 
 how completely do the little messengers of light 
 drive the fairies of darkness into places of safety 
 and retreat! We do not hear the tread of feet 
 or the shouts of command, but only the lookers- 
 on remind us that the conflict is at hand. Pres- 
 ently we find the dark-robed fairies of the night 
 crouched under bushes, behind pictures, in cellars 
 and caves. There they are pleased to wait until 
 the captain of the Sun's hosts reclines for a nap. 
 The Captain of our Salvation never reclines, but, 
 nevertheless, the fairies of darkness in our hearts 
 come forth and sometimes endeavor to conquer the 
 greater power. The latter conflict is not without 
 strife. The war between the forces with which 
 men are so closely connected is much more vital 
 32 
 
Light. 
 
 and significant than the mere force of plant life. 
 We have all seen the vegetable as it commenced to 
 grow in the dark. The bulb or tuber has withm 
 itself all the elements of growth; the moisture, 
 heat and light are but aids. Yet how true are 
 those aids. Man at one time had lurkmg withm 
 himself all the conditions of spiritual growth, 
 but thev were lost and had to be regained. The 
 plant that grows in the dark is etiolated, yet it 
 grows. Place this plant in the sunlight and watch 
 the transformation. See how the chlorophyl 
 granules are manufactured and distributed 
 throughout the plant. The stomata and water 
 pores now function perfectly and we are pleased 
 to style the vegetating plant healthy. Thus it 
 was the light that caused health. Every plant 
 contains within itself light, but the light is its 
 life and can only be used to collect more hght, 
 consequently more life. A plant, as well as our 
 bodies, is condensed light. Our bodies are simply 
 plants cultivated for their fruit, the spirit. The 
 flower is the soul of the plant. Let us see. The 
 plant grows by an inherent law, but that law 
 demands light, among other things. If the plant 
 die touch it with light, and it becomes light, 
 save the small amount of glue and nails with 
 which the light was held. We feed upon the vege- 
 table, animal and mineral kingdoms, all of which 
 are the products of light. Thus we can be re- 
 duced to a condensed mass of light. 
 
 Light can be held; all that we lack is that 
 substance which can withstand the heat. 
 Heat is not only characteristic of the light of 
 33 
 
Means. 
 
 the sun, but we can easily detect the glow in the 
 man lighted by the Christ Man. Take one who 
 is cold and indifferent toward Christianity, who 
 displays no activity in the realm of saints. Touch 
 such an one with a coal from the altar of heaven, 
 and you will find that in him are the oil and the 
 wick of the flame of love. 
 
 To show the warmth of the flame, let us take 
 a glance at the life of George Muller, of Bristol. 
 Perhaps we would better look at the George 
 Muller of Heimersleben, if we would see him be- 
 fore the wick was light. How cold, and indif- 
 ferent — ^yea, even wicked and despisable he was, 
 but after the Wagner prayer meeting he was 
 changed to a man in whom the flame began to 
 make heat. Heat causes expansion — because, as 
 we have said, it is condensed light. So when the 
 heat from the Christian flame began to play in 
 him, he, too, began to expand, because he could not 
 prevent it. There is no substance which can with- 
 stand or contain the heat from Christ. Here is 
 the difference. George Muller began at once to 
 expand, and with that expansion came light, so 
 that to-day, though the original flame has died, 
 there remain a multitude of flames bearing light 
 and heat in every part of the world. The two 
 thousand for whom he cared are the living lights 
 of to-day. They are the Means. Then, too, his 
 life story, written by Dr. Pierson, is another light 
 placed upon a hill. I would rather, yea, a thou- 
 sand times rather, have my own immortal flame 
 extinguished by the very darkness of hell than to 
 have it known at the mercy seat of God that the 
 34 
 
Light. 
 
 waves of sin generated by me caused another flame 
 to flicker. Darkness, which is negative, is com- 
 parable to sadness. Although darkness brought our 
 woe into existence, we can use it just as the Mas- 
 ter uses sadness, to ripen those fruits which are 
 not mellowed by the sun and its companion cheer- 
 fulness. 
 
 We rest during the dark hours of the night ; we 
 build up, or rather we are built up by the very 
 forces which darkness calls into action — once to 
 deteriorate, again to elevate. This is proof posi- 
 tive that sin is sin's vital enemy. God separated 
 the light from the dark. He made each for a spe- 
 cial purpose, and they must so be used by us. 
 Darkness contains some light. Since the sun first 
 lighted the earth there has never been total dark- 
 ness. Light is light, but there are degrees of in- 
 tensity. The intense light of the sun is for a 
 purpose, and likewise the filtered light of the 
 forest. Oaks cannot grow to perfection in caves, 
 neither can ferns and mosses reach their ideal in 
 the burning heat of unmolested sun rays. It is 
 a peculiar fact, but nevertheless true, that the light 
 of Christ is often too powerful for the young and 
 tender shoot. A young man can be raised in a 
 Christian home and yet not be a Christian, but 
 let such an one come under an influence less in- 
 tense, and he will in most instances begin to grow, 
 until finally he is able to bask in the full splendor 
 of a healthy Christian influence. Such an one is 
 but a fern that must be permitted to sleep in the 
 sifted light, as it gently falls through the leaves 
 of trees. He must recline on moss-covered couches 
 
 3^ 
 
Means. 
 
 until he gains strength enough to enter the fiery 
 furnace and be untouched. All birds were not 
 made to soar in the direct path of the heavenly 
 diamond. Their eyes cannot stand the glitter. 
 
 The eagle seems to defy the bold, audacious look 
 of old Helios, while the delicate humming bird 
 darts here and there as if to flee from his pene- 
 trating gaze. It is not always he who seems even 
 to revel in the splendor and sublimity of Christian 
 loveliness that is clothed with the brightest plum- 
 age of Christ-like perfection, and beauty; for 
 very often do we find the dazzling colors of fine 
 art, and the tints and hues of the dawn in the 
 garment of some poor unknown Christian mother 
 alone with her God and His Word. God made 
 each one of us with an organ of sight, adapted 
 to the various degrees of light and to the power of 
 discrimination. We look at yonder flower garden 
 and feast our poor souls by means of the avenue of 
 sight. The eye is the most delicate, most sen- 
 sitive, part of the human structure. Why did God 
 in His all-perfect vision see fit to so equip us? 
 Surely there was a purpose. 
 
 Not onl}^ are human eyes sensitive to the various 
 colors, but even those of the birds and insects; 
 but if we, like the fish in caves, do not use our 
 eyes, they will in time become negative. How 
 awful it seems to us, as we look at another whose 
 eyes are closed to the beauties of this world! 
 Think of those great historic souls — eyeless — yet 
 they lived, not only unto their own day and gen- 
 eration, but also for the generations to come. If, 
 then, Sadness touches our hearts with her trem- 
 36 
 
Age. 
 
 must take things in their natural order. It is 
 said that each life represents at different stages 
 in its development every form of evolutionary life. 
 This is true not only in the physiological sense, 
 but in the religious realm. We need but recall 
 Paul, when we are soon reminded of Saul, but 
 is this state of affairs to continue forever? I dare 
 conjecture that in a thousand years from to-day, 
 there will remain no traces of gill slits in the de- 
 veloping human embryo. 
 
 Certain laws exist to-day because the conditions 
 demand them, but remove the conditions and the 
 laws will be dried up in the splendor of new 
 
 We need not look for a Saul in every young 
 man before we find a Paul. If the young people 
 of to-day having reached their twentieth dawn 
 of spring do not think and act as the youth of 
 twenty-five or thirty, years ago, I say unto you that 
 something is wrong. We dare not blame God. 
 We must look at ourselves. Do we use all the 
 Means at our command for the upbuilding of 
 noble Christian characters? The farmers of to- 
 day do not buy wild oats and cultivate them for 
 seed, but, on the contrary, they see to it that the 
 seed is of the finest quality. It is a favorite theory 
 of mine that no young man should associate with 
 one of his own age. This may sound strange and 
 perhaps frighten some, but when you learn its 
 meaning the discord will be harmony. 
 
 We should not permit the child to associate with 
 himself because he is his equal in age. The best 
 companion for any young man is Christ. But 
 53 
 
Means. 
 
 some will say he needs an earthly compaiuon. 
 This is partly true, but when you select tliat 
 companion be sure that he is older, not only in 
 years but in truth. It cannot be denied, for 
 who can gainsay it, that God selects youths and 
 even causes children to be born whom he wishes 
 to use for special purposes. We dare not judge 
 their development and compare it with others. 
 Take the young man, for instance, who has been 
 chosen by God for a special work. The ordinary 
 temptations will never tempt him. He can and 
 will resist the evil enticements that cause his 
 brother to fall. This, some one may say, is not 
 right. When, I ask, have you assumed God^s 
 prerogative? Such a one will have a mist over 
 his life. He will do good and work along the 
 lines of righteousness before he is really conscious 
 of the fact. At times the veil will be raised, 
 and the child will look about for a time to get his 
 bearings. After these few seconds or perhaps 
 days, as God may deem best, the shadow is again 
 thrown upon the chosen one and he is again at 
 work. 
 
 This special training may last through life and 
 the garment always be worn, but history reveals 
 some cases where the latter years have been those 
 of the unveiling of the monument of God's love, 
 and then, and then only, does such an one realize 
 for the first time, what has been accomplished 
 by means of him in the eyes of a mortal. Parents 
 must select the means unless the child is under 
 the direct influence of God, for in that case it 
 would be the grossest of sins. Earnestness need 
 54 
 
Age. 
 
 not be the index to silvery cords, in this dispensa- 
 tion of the Spirit and of means, but, alas, it may be 
 the waxen plate in the youth susceptible to the im- 
 pressions of the Spirit. Age counts for much 
 and is a wonderful means, but we must not limit 
 power to age. Have we not had in history in- 
 stances of the greatest heroism in the young. 
 France has furnished — but I refrain from naming 
 her. Look also to Italy and our own fair America. 
 It is not in age or culture or wealth or power or 
 might that great feats are accomplished, but in 
 laying hold of the Means given to us and using 
 them. 
 
 We ascertain the age of the oak by counting 
 the number of annual rings. I wonder how old 
 we would be if our age was to be based upon the 
 number of annual rings of growth in any one of 
 our threefold natures. The oak must either grow 
 or die. 
 
 The means for growth are given and if, by any 
 other means, they are cut off, decay is the result. 
 Likewise with the mortal. It is true that age, of 
 its own sweet will, adds knowledge to the indi- 
 vidual by sheer means of age, and yet I think 
 this is but the result of contact. We can note 
 the lack of development even with advancing age, 
 when those avenues are closed by means of which 
 the mind is to be tutored. The means for ac- 
 complishing great and wonderful feats are not 
 always suspected, neither are the means always 
 respected. Thoreau, in his "Walden," writes thus: 
 "The myriads who built the pyramids to be the 
 tombs of the Pharoahs were fed on garlic, and 
 
 55 
 
Means. 
 
 it may be were not decently buried themselves. 
 The mason who finishes the cornice of the palace 
 returns at night perchance to a hut not so good as 
 a wigwam." 
 
 This reminds us that means are of various 
 grades and degrees of importance. The builders 
 of the tombs were more important than the ma- 
 terial out of which the pyramids were built ; but it 
 seems to me the designer back of it all was the 
 greatest means. We read in the literature of the 
 world, *^Lives of great men all remind us we can 
 make our lives sublime." I wonder of what the 
 lives of the less noble and courageous remind us? 
 Do not the lives of the noble youth remind us of 
 things just as sublime as the feats of older per- 
 sons in times past ? There remain some questions 
 unanswered. Notwithstanding that Nature is old, 
 she does not appear so. Even in these advanced 
 years of her life she delights to dress in gay 
 colors. Tints the most delicate and refined are 
 hers. She still bears that supreme dignity so 
 characteristic of her mountains; while modula- 
 tions of her voice vary from the softest whisper 
 of the child to the commanding tones of the 
 captain. She still has her sorrows and her days 
 of joy, but yet she is full of glee. Nature does 
 not grow old nor weary. Then why should we, 
 if we are her children? She, our mother, surely 
 will give unto us those principles by means of 
 which we can retain our youthful vigor even to 
 the grave. We must not divorce ourselves from 
 her, but by clinging to her breast we shall be- 
 come the children of natural and unpainted beauty. 
 
 56 
 
Age. 
 
 If Nature were to be placed before the throne of 
 grace and judged, surely she could not be con- 
 demned for riotous living. Neither would she 
 be asked to give an account of each year's work. 
 We shall not be judged by our age, but by our 
 faith. Age counts for much, but chiefly as a 
 means of showing an appreciation and a mani- 
 festation of our faith. We need not look to the 
 evening of old age for the delightful sunsets, for 
 we have just as noble sunsets earlier in life, though 
 they may not be behind mountains white with 
 the snowy locks of time. Not long since a new- 
 born butterfly rested at my feet and this message 
 flowed from my pen: 
 
 It was a bright June morning, 
 Cottomvood bloom filled the air. 
 As sentinels placed here and there. 
 
 At my feet rested a butterfly. 
 
 Whose wings momentarily did expand. 
 
 Revealing colors splendid, beauteous, grand. 
 
 An infant in the use of wings was it. 
 Being lately born into the world of flight. 
 With a clear vision and delicately light. 
 
 An -unsuspecting but vigilant and — 
 
 Crawled upon the wings so gay, 
 
 Jn search of food or in search of play, 
 
 57 
 
Means. 
 
 Our "butterfly was seized with inspiration. 
 
 High in the air it swiftly flew, 
 
 Until the tiny ant with cold was blue. 
 
 Closely crouched in the down-like feathers. 
 
 The two journeyed on and on — 
 
 E'en through the mist of another dawn. 
 
 Whether the aeronaut fell from his ship. 
 
 Or waited until it rested there — 
 
 On some thistledown so fair, I cannot say. 
 
 But all this is rightly likened 
 Unto men — who all unsought 
 Are carried aivay on the wings of new-born 
 thought. 
 
 Men as ants thus high do sail 
 
 In 7iew and unexplored realms of life, 
 
 Proving theories fancies by mental strife. 
 
 Until at last they, too, must rest. 
 Look and examine their former selves. 
 As seen on thought-bound shelves. 
 
 58 
 
Music. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 Man" from remote antiquity has had enough 
 genius to constitute some device by means of which 
 he could sing out the harmony of his nature. 
 It is one of the most interesting studies to investi- 
 gate the development of both vocal and instru- 
 mental music. "The Hebrews were an eminently 
 musical people. These people claim no origi- 
 nality, but attribute the origin of musical instru- 
 ments to the antediluvian days of Jubal, who 
 was the father of all such as handle the harp and 
 the organ.^' 
 
 As we walk back through the centuries, we find 
 traces of music, yet crude as compared with that 
 of to-day. The music of Old Testament times 
 is far inferior to that of our time, and yet the 
 literature of the Old Testament is such as to 
 excite our wonder and admiration. Thus we are 
 forced to recognize a strange contrast. 
 
 The music of antiquity was as unpolished as its 
 people. Their music, evidently, was not the 
 source of such pronounced inspiration as the say- 
 ings of the Old Testament. We must look for 
 another cause for the development and perfection 
 of music. 
 
 59 
 
Means. 
 
 All may not accept the fundamental principle 
 by means of which we shall endeavor to show 
 the development of music. 
 
 We must admit that there has been advance. 
 That it has been evolved from a crude and uncul- 
 tured state to one of perfection. The Chinese 
 make use of music in their most dignified cere- 
 monies, without genius enough to advance it, even 
 if their sumptuary laws would permit. "The 
 Hindu writers have names corresponding to ours 
 for the tonic or first, the mediant or third, and 
 the dominant or fifth of the scale; and indeed 
 there are multitudinous proofs of their assiduous 
 study of the art, however limited their practical 
 skill, owing to the paucity and imperfection of 
 their musical instruments." In all countries we 
 might show the crude beginnings, but this is not 
 necessary. The Romans copied their art from the 
 Greek. The ancient Hebrew music, some say, was 
 Egyptian in less polished form. Look where we 
 will, we find music, but in all our searching we 
 fail to find a Haydn, Beethoven, Schumann, 
 Wagner, or Mozart, in the stream of composers. 
 Neither do we find a Patti, Lind, Grisi, Alboni, 
 Braham, Antognini, Mario or Roneoni in the 
 sphere of song. 
 
 This marvelous advance must have a cause, 
 and that cause lies in the theory of evolution. 
 
 Men have emerged from brute life and life of 
 war into spiritual life and that of peace and arbi- 
 tration. So, too, we have, as a people, come to 
 realize the worth and meaning in music. The 
 masterpieces of music in both lines existed before 
 60 
 
Music. 
 
 we knew it and before we appreciated them. 
 
 Men have not dreamed out the value of music 
 and then set about to write it. Ah! no. It has 
 come as the morning breeze, and we have been 
 refreshed. This, again, is a proof of its evolu- 
 tion. Even the great compositions of to-day are 
 tinted with this principle. One composer is in- 
 spired with song as he listens to the winds. His 
 soul has through the ages been made sensitive and 
 now the conditions are fruitful. 
 
 Masterful compositions are evolved in one na- 
 ture as we are evolved through nature. The 
 musical ability of one man may have had its evo- 
 lutionary seed sown a thousand generations to- 
 ward the East. We may wonder whence came 
 the first seed. Our only rational response is, God 
 had an ideal. This ideal he set developing through 
 the countless ages of physical and animal evo- 
 lution, until it met the impulse of the breath of 
 God and partook of a deeper melody at the in- 
 breathing of the Immortal Soul. Wild nature 
 of to-day has not lost her musical charm. The 
 streams play just as sweetly to-day as of old, or 
 even more so, in comparison to the busy world. 
 The birds have not been caught by man and taught 
 to sing; on the contrary, these jewels of the air 
 are man's instructors at this very hour. Examine, 
 if you will, the human throat ; compare it with the 
 forms of animal creation before us, and you will 
 not find a very striking contrast. Here is where 
 activity -not only determines structure, but beauty 
 and meaning of structure. Then, if we can find 
 real traces of prototypes of music in the realms 
 6i 
 
Means. 
 
 below us, and if we can trace its development 
 through the countless ages, and even note its 
 advance during our own lifetime, then, surely, we 
 will attribute rationality to ourselves by saying. 
 Evolution accounts for it all. 
 
 The best proof we have for ascribing intelli- 
 gence in this world of ours is that we find purpose 
 in all the operations of nature. Purpose, end, 
 and rationality are synonymous. We must now 
 seek to find the purpose in music. Surely our 
 Father would not cause the physical apparatus to 
 be developed if it were not for some purpose. 
 Every part of our physical body has its special 
 function, and surely that part so near the heart 
 and soul will not fail in its duty. 
 
 We are told that in the private as well as in 
 the religious life of the Hebrews music held a 
 prominent place. Likewise we find that it played 
 a very mysterious part in driving out the evil 
 spirit from Saul. Again it was intimately, and, 
 we dare add, vitally, connected with prophecy, 
 but in times past, just as in the days at our 
 threshold, we find that the cords as well as the 
 hands and feet were put to improper uses. 
 
 Nero fiddled when Eome was in flames. Isaiah 
 pronounces a woe against those who sat till the 
 morning twilight over their wine, to the sound 
 of "the harp and viol, the tabret and pipe.'' 
 
 Music has always occupied a prominent place 
 in religious worship. We are delighted, in the 
 present day, to listen to the harmony of several 
 hundred musical instruments played by masters. 
 What must have been the inspiration which came 
 
 62 
 
Music. 
 
 to the people of old, when, with their correspond- 
 ing culture, they listened to the four thousand, 
 out of the thirty thousand composing the tribe 
 in the reign of David, who are said to have been 
 appointed to praise Jehovah with the instruments 
 which David made. 
 
 You say our present orchestras charm you, lift 
 you out of earth and place you gently in sweetest 
 bliss. What must have been the intoxicating rap- 
 ture, combined with ecstatic joy, of those who 
 listened to two hundred thousand trumpets 
 blended in harmony with forty thousand harps, 
 tinted here and there with the light and the dark 
 shades of thousands of human voices! Surely 
 we are not basking in the fullest splendor of 
 spiritual sunshine and heavenly worship. 
 
 Music hath not only charms to soothe the savage 
 breast, but she hath forgiveness for the sinner. 
 
 We can find still another cause for the evolu- 
 tion of music. It is in this : The strings of man's 
 throat needed tightening, the keyboard of his 
 violin-like breast needed to be seasoned, not only 
 by time and contact with man and angels, but 
 by inspiration from God, while the eye must re- 
 veal the soul to the world, which is woven with 
 finer fibers than ever before. So, when all things 
 were conducive, music, the art of trembling vi- 
 brations, sprang spontaneously upon the uncul- 
 tured heart of society and trained it by sub- 
 duing and overawing it. Where would be the 
 world, in its onward march to-day if we could 
 abstract the part played by music? 
 
 Surely we must tread with lighter steps than 
 
 63 
 
Means. 
 
 ever before, not only in the dance, but in religious 
 worship. Listen to the music falling from the 
 keys of a chapel organ, played by a spiritually 
 minded master ; gossamer-like light steals through 
 the deeply stained windows; perfume of the lily 
 fills the air ; the congregation sits in ecstacy. The 
 cathedral is buried in the shade of oaks, but still 
 they have a clearer vision of heaven than if they 
 were in the presence of the full orbed splendor 
 of the sun. 
 
 Music, thou art a divine given key 
 
 Lent to unlock for you and for me 
 
 The door which permits us to enter the street. 
 
 Where God and Christ and man do meet. 
 
 The most awe-inspiring assemblage of people 
 of which the writer was ever permitted to form 
 a part was that of the funeral of a physician. It 
 was held in one of the most splendid university 
 chapels of America. 
 
 The vast auditorium, seating three thousand 
 people, was filled with thinking and feeling 
 mortals. Presently Chopin's "Funeral March" 
 lived again. With the smallest vibration of the air, 
 scarcely heard, the organ responded to the mas- 
 ter touch. The massive doors swung back: two 
 soldiers in uniform led, in perfect step, the funeral 
 procession. As the organ notes found their way 
 through the forest of palms they met and kissed 
 the notes of him who said, in accents clear and 
 startling: "I am the Kesurrection and the Life; 
 he that believeth on me, though he be dead, yet 
 
 64 
 
Music. 
 
 shall he live again." The coffin was placed before 
 the altar, the services proceeded. In what did 
 the grandeur culminate? Music unlocked the 
 hearts and threw the key away. Music hath spe- 
 cial times and places of enchantment. Who has 
 not had every fiber of his being melted and re- 
 woven into a texture resembling silk, by the 
 strains which fell from a guitar, while softly and 
 tenderly gliding over rippling, moonlit waters? 
 Then, too, the serenade hath special soothing 
 power; and why? Moisture, which takes posses- 
 sion of the air in the absence of the sprightly 
 nymphs of the sun, is favorable and becomes a 
 good conductor; while darkness closes the avenue 
 of sight and gives the ear full control. Here, as 
 in prayer, the closing of the eye enables the eye 
 of the soul to see God. If you would not lose the 
 charm of the serenade, then do not frighten the 
 messengers away by means of light. Silence, 
 supreme midnight stillness, is the serenader's. 
 
 It is a fact of some importance and significance 
 that many of our best musicians come from homes 
 of poverty. This illustrates that passage in 
 Colossians which reads: "And there is no re- 
 spect of persons." Thousands of voices, which 
 might have been the means of melting this world 
 of ours into Christian loveliness, have died un- 
 known and unheard. Will the Master say: "You 
 have not played your part?" 
 
 Oh! that men would pour out their wealth as 
 readily and as earnestly for the building of schools 
 in which the musically gifted could secure proper 
 culture. Would not this kind of giving be ^n 
 
 65 
 
Means. 
 
 antiseptic to the almshouses and penitentiaries? 
 Why wait until the soul is lost? Use the means 
 which God has provided. Eeach the souls of men 
 by means of the music which lies sleeping in un- 
 covered breasts. Then, too, this latent musical 
 talent evens up the wealth of the world, for, by 
 strenuous endeavor, it can be turned into wealth. 
 He who feels the god of music knocking at the 
 door of his soul and does not permit it to enter 
 is just as great a culprit as one who openly com- 
 mits crime. The minister of the gospel has no 
 better calling than the teacher of voice or brush 
 who aids to move the world to God. We may 
 say that the hero of the twentieth century is he 
 who shall provide a perfect and complete musical 
 education for those who otherwise could not se- 
 cure it. Why not send a soloist of great repute 
 to China and to India ? Let them preach. Could 
 not the gospel be just as affective there by means 
 of the voice as in America ? 
 
 Martial music has done as much to bring vic- 
 tory to retreating hosts as the commanding pres- 
 ence of a noble general. And why? 
 
 The general's presence, personality, and influ- 
 ence, may reach the head and persuade, or may 
 even reach the heart, but that is all ; while music, 
 that art of arts, dips its finger even into the realm 
 of ideal feeling, and carries the wounded soldier 
 back to home, country, and all. It strengthens 
 him until danger becomes a negative factor, and 
 with a firmer, more rhythmical step, he is inspired 
 to cross the impassable. It is reported that a 
 certain army, basking in the splendor of Alpine 
 
 LofC. ^^ 
 
Music. 
 
 heights, was on the verge, not of a precipice, 
 but of retreating, when the command came for the 
 bands to lead the host, and ere they were aware, 
 they had crossed what they supposed to be an im- 
 passable pass and had crowned the engagement 
 with victory. 
 
 Thus music can give praise where shame might 
 have been. Music not only thus strengthens and 
 energizes, but, under strange, impassioned con- 
 ditions, it acts as a safety valve. Angel hosts 
 express their heavenly joy by means of song. 
 Mortal man, under the intoxicating influence of a 
 patriotic or religious victory, expresses himself 
 by means of song. Tears bear a strange relation- 
 ship to music. They are very often liquidized 
 pain, but have you not seen a mother, under* the 
 weight of excessive joy, shed tears, not so much 
 of pain as of thankfulness? Ah! these are vital. 
 Music, tears, prayer, are three means of grace, and 
 avenues of escape for our waiting souls. 
 
 These are the three graces for which we cannot 
 give very cogent reasons, but which are neverthe- 
 less the foundations of our ideal life, God be 
 praised. He is the giver and perfecter of it all, 
 while Christ is the tuning fork. 
 
 Has the strange parallelism between great re- 
 form movements and music ever appealed to you ? 
 It may be but a coincidence, but a mighty one. 
 Luther, that tower of faith, power and music 
 builded on Christ, poured forth his soul in music 
 which still fires the souls of men. Wesley, like- 
 wise, was bathed by God in the sea of music. We 
 are all anxiously trying to prove the validity of 
 
 67 
 
Means. 
 
 our arguments m the realm of morals or religion, 
 by quoting from the works of a non-religious or 
 non-moral source. This may add charm, and we 
 strengthen our chapter by quoting Shakespeare on 
 music. He says: 
 
 ^'The man that hath no music in himself. 
 Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds. 
 Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; 
 The motions of his spirit are dull as night. 
 And his affections dark as Erehus: 
 Let no such man he trusted/* 
 
 We may softly walk through the wards of a 
 hospital filled with cots so white that one imagines 
 a snowstorm has just passed by, while the sick 
 and wounded are victims lying beneath the mighty 
 flakes. We pause; the enormous mass of air, 
 fifteen pounds to the square inch, is disturbed; 
 it trembles ; hark ! a voice, almost divine, steals 
 through space. The movement is not confined 
 to the medium, for beneath those strange flakes 
 of snowlike whiteness mortal men forget their 
 pain and listen to the whispers of God. Could 
 such a one under such a spell be taken home, ah, 
 that home would be heaven! Consequently we 
 must admit that music can do what the physician 
 cannot. 
 
 It is not necessary, however, to search for man 
 under the weight of sickness to find the power 
 of music. We look at him engaged in any of the 
 busy pursuits of life. If he be at work, the work 
 ceases when the man with the hand organ and 
 68 
 
Music. 
 
 monkey passes that way. Likewise even the small 
 boy with his rattle-bones solicits your attention. 
 Then let us never venture to move the volume of 
 flexible air with harsh words or sounds, but leave 
 it ever to the musically iiiclined to call us all 
 back to God. 
 
 6f 
 
Means. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IDEALS. 
 
 Ideals are those seen yet unseen, those known 
 yet unknown possibilities, for the realization of 
 which men are willing to sacrifice body, mind 
 and spirit. "Where your treasure is, there will 
 your heart be also." 
 
 Not long since, as a supplement to one of our 
 leading magazines, came the picture of an aged 
 negro and wife who were counting their few 
 pennies by means of the light that came from an 
 old candle which was supported by a bottle. A 
 look of surprise came over their faces as they 
 discovered they were one penny short. It had 
 slipped away and they knew not how. I dare con- 
 jecture that not one person in every one thou- 
 sand knows where the real treasure of his heart 
 lies. We think we do. Yet could we see as God 
 sees, I am certain we would be surprised at our 
 ideal, the real ideal, the truest and best treasure 
 of our hearts. Our true ideal will be the one 
 realized, while the one we thought to be our real 
 treasure will be, on that counting day, when we 
 have — not the light of a candle, but of Christ — 
 the "penny short." When we set out in life to 
 accomplish a certain task, the most of us are not 
 70 
 
Ideals. 
 
 like the wise man who, when contemplating build- 
 ing a house, knew the cost, but are more like the 
 foolish man who thought not of the price. 
 
 We, in early youth, are charmed with the work 
 of a certain individual. We determine to make 
 our lives the complement of his, and to add just 
 a little to the great stream of which the principle 
 for which he labored was but a tributary. While 
 in childhood all things seem possible, and indeed 
 are, for it is the youth who is near God, it is he 
 who relies upon Him and with child-like faith 
 builds for time and eternity. I would that the 
 young of the future would never grow weary of 
 this, for in it they are true and right in the eyes 
 of God. Let us instruct our youth; let us teach 
 them something of the difficulty of attempting 
 anything outside of Christ. An ideal may be 
 right in its end. If so, the life of the idealist will 
 correspond; for in the history of every man, the 
 meaning of his life is not consciously placed 
 there, but in that he works out his ideal, he is 
 working out his life. Many men have been lost, 
 because of their ideal for life. If we could only 
 know the ideal or the purpose which actuates men, 
 we could easily determine the result. It is only 
 when we see the lives of men through the micro- 
 scope of a hundred years that they seem as candles, 
 burned during the darkness of night, but which 
 reveal in the brighter sunlight of a completed 
 knowledge only one-half of their original splendor. 
 How splendid it is for us of the present age to 
 comprehend that we are the realized ideals of the 
 hopeful, of past days ! How the earlv Christians 
 
 71 
 
Means. 
 
 must have longed for the day when they conld 
 worship without punishment! Yet they were in- 
 spired, they had ideals, as the various histories of 
 art teach us. While they could not speak of those 
 things near and dear to their hearts, yet they 
 could picture them and thus look, read, and re- 
 joice. There must have lurked in their hearts an 
 ideal plan of worship — free, unimpeded and spir- 
 itual. 
 
 They projected into the future. They kept 
 alive the few sparks, so that when'^all things were 
 conducive they might ignite the flamable hearts of 
 men, and then would their ideal scheme of wor- 
 ship be realized. We to-day are the ideals re- 
 alized. May we live in respect and love for these 
 people. Let us show to their holy spirits that we 
 appreciate the work done for us — and by so doing 
 we shall be better able to form ideals to be realized 
 by the generations of the future. Then will our 
 posterity bless us. 
 
 We do not always know the exact meaning of 
 our ideal until we see it encased in material form. 
 The plan of a church or bridge may lurk in the 
 mind of an architect for months, even be there 
 completed before he places on paper a single dot 
 regarding it. He sees it in his mind constantly, 
 and especially so when he has drafted his plans. 
 Even the drafted plans are to me unintelligible. 
 The completed structure, the ideal caught in 
 the mass of wood, stone, iron and glass, alone 
 reveals to me his ideal. So it is with the many of 
 our ideals. We think that we are perfectly fa- 
 milial mth every detail; but alas! not so; for 
 
 72 
 
IdeaU. 
 
 when the work begins the difficulties are manifold. 
 We need ages of preparation. Indeed we have been 
 schooled for six thousand years, and are still only 
 infants. Ideals have been born and have died ; they 
 have left the mind either better able to construct 
 in the future, or weaker and less liable to build 
 riffhtly. One thing is certain, we of the twentieth 
 century should have grander and better ideals, 
 with greater and firmer means of realizing them 
 than were ever possessed by the people of days 
 gone by. The world should be richer to-day than 
 it was yesterday. The aspect of the world 
 changes. When we open our eyes to-morrow, if 
 we could rightly view the landscape o'er, we should 
 feel and see eternity. The future is what we make 
 
 it. . , . 
 
 The future of every man's life is m his own 
 hands. We are free moral agents. If, then, we 
 should determine to present a stage filled with 
 the horrors of carnage and the like, who could 
 prevent? We are the architects of our own fate. 
 
 It is almost beyond estimation to reckon the 
 value for good of a single ideal which finds lodg- 
 ment in the breast of a man and is cultivated by 
 that individual. Sculptors are idealists. 
 Painters also. We, each of us, are artists. God 
 is the Supreme Artist. I sometimes think (I 
 known it is fancy), that God could, if he so 
 chose, have one large camera, and with it take 
 snapshots of this old world of ours every second 
 of time. We as artists would then be revealed m 
 our full light. What pictures some of us would 
 present ! At times beautiful, again we would ex- 
 73 
 
Means. 
 
 hibit a negative sublimity. We should be counted 
 impersonators, but we should be representing our 
 best natures. 
 
 Have you ever seen an ideal person? Look at 
 Christ. He is the mirror in which we see the de- 
 fects of our own lives. When every knee shall 
 bow and every tongue confess, will there be any 
 one whom we can call an "ideal ?' History tells 
 of men and women who have reached the height 
 of fame in this direction and in that. 
 
 The next generation points out to us the de- 
 fects in the life past. If we could find a person 
 with a perfect love of God actuating every mo- 
 tive, with physical beauty at one hundred per cent., 
 gifted with all graces and talents, we might stop 
 and look. But as the world is to-day we find few, 
 if any. In that we have our ideals for bodily 
 refinement and grace, for culture and soul cleans- 
 ing, there is proof for us that there is something 
 in the future, and that the golden age in our 
 ideal world is still before us. We may not realize 
 this, for we have the idea of a heaven — a place of 
 refuge to which we can all go and have shown us 
 just what we have accomplished for the Master. 
 
 What the future has in store for us we do not 
 know, but we shall when we see Him, as we shall 
 be like Him, and shall see Him as He is. There 
 is a way of judging the ideals of men which would 
 be of special merit to the sociologist, if he wished 
 to spend a moment's time in gathering material. 
 Look at the styles of pictures in the journals, 
 Sunday papers and magazines, as well as in the 
 photographers' show-cases. See the hidden ideals 
 74 
 
Ideals. 
 
 in the subjects. This attitude or that reveals 
 to the scrutinizing observer the actuating or domi- 
 nant motive. Classes and groups can thus be 
 gathered, and people can be divided accordingly. 
 This mode of separation will be a new yet true 
 one. 
 
 We are not always conscious of the ideal in 
 another when we pass criticisms. Indeed, who 
 are we that we should judge another ? Let a per- 
 son weigh the actions of his fellows, before tell- 
 ing the world that the weight is short. , 
 
 Perhaps our own scales are not the very best. 
 We should borrow from our neighbor. But who 
 is my neighbor? Who of my neighbors has scales 
 any better than my own ? Would it not be wisest 
 to measure all with the scales Christ gives us? 
 "Do unto others as you would that they should 
 do unto you.^' He who permits an ideal flame 
 to lap up the grossness of all smoldering fires is 
 he who stands for nobleness. 
 
 We speak of an ideal day, an ideal book, and if 
 we be asked to define "ideal" we cannot do it. 
 Two explanations can be offered : First, it is possi- 
 ble that we but quote, and in so doing exhibit 
 to the world something of our progenitors' natare. 
 Or, again, we may be giving utterance to a some- 
 thing within ourselves, of which we are not fully 
 conscious, and which is, without doubt, our truest 
 and best nature. In this sense, are we making 
 progress ?j 
 
 THE END. 
 
 75 
 
JAN 5 1901 
 
Jan - 2^ 1901 
 
 'Mj 
 
JAN 5 1901