' '.' : i«:: \'... V'-'V- .• •;' "LEST WE FORGET" By REV. D. S. WAHL Printed for the Author by THE CAXTON PRESS CINCINNATI. OHIO 1925 foreword For years it has been my custom to -end birth- day greetings to my parishioners, more esj ecially to those whom it was my privilege to consecral God in baptism and to receive into the church of Christ during my pastorates at Beardstown and Springfield, Illinois; Eden and Salem Churches, St. Louis, Missouri; Mount Olive and Edwards- ville, Illinois. It has also been a pleasure in like manner to remember friends of my boyhood days in San Jose, Natrona, and Tallula, Illinois, and also boys and girls of Central Wesleyan Orphan I Ionic, at Warrenton, "Missouri, whose acquaintance I formed during the twelve years of my connection with the hoard of trustees of this institution. Main- of the little folks of bygone years have grown to young manhood and womanhood, and arc. perchance, beginning to realize that life is more real and earnest than a daydream of youth. Tin- mystic cords of memory, stretching across the years, -till hind them close to my heart, and I thought it expedient to greet them once more with a final heart-to-heart talk. Accordingly, to the young friends of the ; and present this souvenir i> affectionately dedicated for the purpose of re-emphasizing those eternal FOREWORD verities that will abide when all the things on which the human heart is only too prone to center its affections shall have faded and fallen like the withered leaves I see from my study window scat- tered about on this cold autumn day. The truths here presented make no pretension to being new nor novel, but they are restated in the hope that they may tend to lead to Him who alone can prevent the heart from becoming callous and vile. aye. and make it grow pure and strong with the growing years. And should one of these young friends, while perusing these pages, find that he or she has be- come a sort of prodigal toward "our Father's house" and "our mother's Book." it is you I would assure that God's house stands open and that eternal light of his Word gleams out to you likt j a beacon upon your pathway to lead you back to the compassionate heart of God. And when at last the day is done, when the shadows lengthen, and the dark night falls, may it be true of you and me. "At eventide it shall be light." David S. Wahl. Edwardsville, Illinois, November, 1915. Contents I. I mr M< other's Book - 13 II. I )ru Father's Hoi rsE - III. I )ik ( !ountri 's < )m.v Hon is I\ . The E> ening of Lu b - 19 Bbardstov* n, Illinois z u p Q - < v. EDI N Ch muii, Si . Loi is. M' O H X u D K U < CO Immanuel Church, Edwardsville, Illinois -LEST WE FORGET" CHAPTER 1 Our Mother's Book rs Wendell Phillips went u\) and down the land delivering a lecture entitled u The I Arts." The lecture was larp lorification of the p Should 9ome one write on "The Found jht be li amoi xnnplishments. Who can adequately estimate in wh.it measure books have influenced and molded our civilization? A fulfills the story of a wandering Jew, who sits our side and speaks to us about what and heard through twenty centuries of tra wise the Arctics and the Tropics, the mountains and the valleys, and all the generati with their achievements I the rea mind with instruction and delight; they make us temporaii m and Emerson, riti/ country and I the distant and the • kr us heirs of the spiritual life of the past ages. In the best books k t<> us, \ most pro ious thoughts and pouring their souls bit Hut ho* many l»<><»k^ their are! I' Solomon was led I "LEST WE FORGET' no end," what would he say if he lived in die twentieth century of the Christian era? Myriads of books surround us. In a classroom a teacher spoke of the library of seventy thousand volumes in Alexandria destroyed by fire, whereupon one of the students heaved a deep sigh and expressed his relief that the big book house was burned down; for otherwise there would be so much more to read and learn. Yes, there are books, books, books on every hand, and just what to read among so many is a much mooted question. Among all the books in the world there is one that is to be valued supremely, and that is "our mother's Book," called the Bible. In consonance with this thought, John Greenleaf Whittier, the sweet-spirited poet of freedom and humanity, who deeply cherished Bible truth and in many a lyric sang it into the souls of his fellow men, wrote: "We search the world for truth; We cull the good, the pure, the beautiful From graven stone and written scroll, And all old flower fields of the soul; And weary seekers of the best, We come back laden from our quest To find that all the sages said Is in the Book our mothers read." This "Book" has exquisite literary merit. It is a significant fact that most writers of the English language show familiarity with the Bible. There 14 OUR MOTHER'S BOOK is more of the Word in Shakespeare than perhaps in any other standard work of literature. This unrivaled English writer has used in his produc- tions not less than five hundred and fifty biblical quotations, references, and allusions. Of Lincoln's Gettysburg speech, the London Quarterly Re\ stated that it surpassed any production of its class known in literature. Mr. Sunnier said of it that it was the most finished piece of oratory he had ever heard, but let us remember thai Mr. Lincoln's let- and addresses an 4 saturated with the spirit and words of the Holy Scriptures. His reply to Doug- icquired tremendous power by his quotation from Christ, "A house divided against itself cannot Stand." In the absence of other books, his mother taught him daily from the Bible, and he not only grew familiar with its stories and teachings, but al t.-orbed from it a marvelous literary style. Ac- customed to sit by his mother's bedside and to read to her from the Bible main' hours at a time during a last lingering illness, he came to know it almost by heart, and his own vigorous mind expanded and took form tinder the spell of the world's most masterful literature. Again, our mother's Hook meets the deepest needs of humanity. The Bible meets the need of a divine revelation. We have here God's revela- tion of himself as nowhere else in all the world. Take some of the theories that endeavor to account for creation without a creator; what a contrast to the teaching <>f the Bible! From the Bible 15 "LEST WE FORGET" we learn that matter did not unfold out of itself; that there was a personal Creator, a being infinitely superior to, but not wholly unlike ourselves, of whom we may have some valid conception; a being of intelligence, of will, of emotion; a purposing, think- ing, acting, executing personality of supreme power; a God who is not a tyrant, but has the heart of a father, of whom we read "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him." In our "mother's Book" we have a revela- tion of the glorious truth that this universe is not soulless, grinding us to powder, but the threshold of our Father's house. 'Tis true the heavens de- clare the glory of God. Have we not heard their song of power, of wisdom, and of beauty? But there is a glory of God of which the stars do not speak; it is a glory of holiness, love, and mercy. In the Bible we are brought face to face with a living, personal, loving God. The Scriptures also give the correct view of man. As a man looks out into the starry heavens he is moved to exclaim: "What am I? An in- fant crying in the night, an infant crying for the light, and with no language but a cry." And yet as we turn to our mother's Book, what a sub- lime conception of man we get! We read: "God created man in his own image; in the image of God created he him; now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." 16 OUR MOTHER'S BOOK Again, this Book brings us a revelation of salva- tion. Man without the salvation offered by the Bi- ble is led to exclaim, "O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" Here we have an answer to one of the deepest and most awful questions of the soul. Here we have a gospel of hope for the sinner. It tells us what our goal is and how to reach it, though the mistakes of our life have been many. God was in Christ rec- onciling the world unto himself. This gospel has proved itself to be the power of God unto salvation. The effect which this Book has upon life makes it priceless. Its influence upon character is mar- velous. Its subtle force grips and holds the sinner who has been an outcast from society, and somehow uplifts and transforms him and makes him a new creature in Christ Jesus. It gives comfort in sor- row, strength in weakness, guidance in perplexity, gladness in sadness, and in death the light of the Eternal City of God. No less wonderful is the influence of the Bible upon domestic life. What is the home without the enlightening, purifying, uplifting, transforming, and comforting sway of our mother's Book? In it are found also the ideals for social advancement. A traveler left a garment at the inn of a village in India. In this garment was a small book called the Bible. The people of the village read it and said it was the truth by which people should live. In a very short time it transformed that old pagan commu- nity. How different the social life of the race if the 2 17 "LEST WE FORGET" principles of this Book were universally obeyed! Not until the last wrong has been righted, the last wound healed, the last tear wiped away will this sacred volume have accomplished its mission. It is the Book of God for the redemption of society. The changeless principles enunciated in this volume also constitute the foundation of our best govern- ments. The President of the United States of America takes his oath of office with a Bible in his hand. Mr. Cleveland, at his inauguration, selected a copy of the Word of God that his mother gave hirn when a boy. We are a Bible nation, and the Book our mothers loved is the basis of our national life. As we walk with Grote and Lecky and other historians down the centuries we are persuaded that it is not an accident which places the Christian nations ahead of all others. It is something more than race, climate, or color which makes the people who dwell in our fair land different. The eagle-eyed statesman, Daniel Webster, declares, "If we abide by the principles taught in the Bible our country will go on prospering and to prosper; but if we and our posterity neglect its instruction and its authority, no man can tell how sudden a catastrophe may overwhelm us and bury all our glory in profound obscurity." William H. Seward asserts, " the whole hope of human progress is suspended on the ever- growing influence of the Bible." When an ambas- sador from India asked Queen Victoria what the secret of England's greatness was, the queen 18 OUR MOTHER'S BOOK summed up the history of England as a power amid earth's nations as she quietly handed the ambassador our mother's Book and replied to his question, "Go, tell your prince that this is the secret of England's greatness." Andrew Jackson, when dying, looked upon the family Bible and said "That Book, sir, is the rock on which the Republic rests." The Bible is trustworthy, and merits an im- plicit faith in its teachings concerning human life and destiny and in its requirements of perfect obedience. Where the Bible is read and obeyed we find not only the individual enriched and blest, but the home purified. It has emancipated the slave and helped the poor. It has organized the great and various charities. It has breathed new life into a dead world whose corruption seemed hopeless, and it has produced the most glorious and fruitful of all historic civilizations. The tree is known by its fruit. The most of us were led to believe in the Bible because of the faith of our fathers and mothers. We inhaled this faith as we inhaled the air; it was the atmosphere in which we were reared. We believed in the Bible as con- fidently as we believed in our mother's love, but in the course of time our faith in the Book was confirmed by our personal experience. There was a time w^hen we merely believed that our parents loved us. But by and by we had experiences which confirmed this faith in parental affection, and to- day for any one to try to shake our faith in their 19 "LEST WE FORGET" love would be like trying to shake Gibraltar with a straw. And so if we at one time did believe in our mother's Book because father and mother be- lieved or because of the lives and characters it produced, this first belief has been confirmed by our own experience, and to-day we have a faith that cannot be shaken. The Bible is also a living book. Comparatively few books live long. Some are published which create great sensations, are read by hundreds of thousands, talked of in every circle where the least degree of literary interest exists, and their con- tents discussed in nearly every important peri- odical. But in a few years they are almost for- gotten. Some ten years ago a very popular book appeared fresh from the pen of a well-know~n author. The price of the book was one dollar and a half. About five years later the identical book sold at fifty cents. Like yesterday's newspaper, it has no vital message for to-day, and to-day it be- longs to the dead books of the world. Many of the books which have come down to us from the beginning of our era may be interesting as relics of antiquity, but to the average mind they are utterly destitute of vitality. We read them merely to study archaeology and history as a stu- dent studies curios in a museum. The Bible, though one of the oldest books in the world, pos- sesses more vitality than any other book either ancient or modern. It is to-day the leading book in the most advanced and cultured nations of the 20 OUR MOTHER'S BOOK world. No other has so strong a hold on Europe and America; no other exerts such a wide influence and effects such wholesome and remarkable changes in the character and conduct of individuals; no other is such a potent factor in all that goes to make up modern civilization. When the revised version of the New Testament appeared in 1885 the streets of New York City were blocaded be- cause of the w^agonloads of Bibles. One hundred and eighteen thousand words were telegraphed to Chicago so that they might be published with the least possible delay in the daily press. Certainly when a book hoary with the age of many centuries, commands such an eager interest and exerts such a tremendous present-day influence on the most en- lightened nations of the race, we are justified in calling it a living book and believing that it will abide "till the sun grows old and the stars are cold and the leaves of the judgment book unfold." Our mother's Book is everybody's book. Some books are written for the rich, some for the poor, some for the learned, some for the unlearned, some for little children, some for adults, some are for people of one language and some for those of an- other; some are for people of one occupation, and have no interest for those following other pur- suits. There are works on navigation, agriculture, geology, biology, finance, politics, archaeology, astronomy. Then there are the works of mathematics, music, sculpture, architecture, painting, drawing, and every other conceivable 21 "LEST WE FORGET" subject. All these run in special lines, appeal to special tastes, and reach special classes. The Bible, on the other hand, touches every class. Translated into hundreds of languages, it meets the needs of the people on every continent and island. Little children lisp its sacred lessons, middle-aged men love it, and old men and women murmur its words of promise with their dying breath. It is the book for all human beings in all ages. If, in the far-off future, there shall be souls struggling for the light, eyes suffused with tears, hearts throbbing with anguish, wayfarers lost in life's bypaths, hoping, yet hopeless ones; if human nature retains its humanity, if love holds the place supreme, and if the mortal longs for immortality, this book will abide with its enduring promises like a summer sun flooding mankind with light and gladness. Again, it is the most precious legacy that parents can leave for their children. Money may be a blessing, but ofttimes is a curse. But who can express in words the benediction a Bible may be for son or daughter? Some years since a young man's mother, nearing life's ebb, named in broken tones certain of her possessions she desired should fall to him. The son to whom mother love and Christian example furnished a rich and rare endow- ment instantly responded, "Mother, there is one thing I would like — the old Bible." Her dear old Bible, of all things, he desired, for in the parting hour he saw clearly that from it her whole life had 22 OUR MOTHER'S BOOK derived its sweetness and power. Her unwritten history, childhood, youth, mother-life passed be- fore him in a vision — the faith in God and unfalter- ing courage, the steadfast patience and virtue, whether in the valley or on the mountain top, in quicksand or on solid ground, in sunshine or shadow, he saw the fitness and answer of God's Word to a soul's need. The explanation of mother's life lay in her love for the old Book. Henceforth his own life must be builded upon it, and henceforth God's Word should have special fragrance and color be- cause of her life. And her own book, thumbed and worn, should be his most precious heritage. " This Book is all that's left me now; Tears will unbidden start ; With faltering lips and throbbing brow I press it to my heart. For many generations past Here is our family tree; My mother's hands this Bible clasped, She, dying, gave it me." The Bible is also a book for which there is no sub- stitute. When Stanley started across the dark con- tinent of Africa he had seventy-three books in three packs weighing one hundred and eighty pounds. After he had gone three hundred miles he was obliged to throw away some of the books because of the fatigue of those carrying his baggage. As he continued on his journey his library in like man- ner grew less and less until he had but one book 23 'LEST WE FORGET" left, and that was the Bible. It is said that he read it through three times during the journey. The Bible is a book for which there can be no substi- tute because it alone contains all that meets the deepest yearnings of immortal souls. It has never been surpassed or displaced. The sun easily and certainly retains its primacy. If we are urged to give up the Bible we may well reply, "Not until a better is offered us." If we had a telescope and it were not powerful enough to bring heavenly bodies so near to us as we might desire, or to answer every conceivable astronomical question, we would not fling it aside before we had a better one. What is to be our attitude toward our mother's Book? Bacon says, "Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested." The Bible certainly belongs to the last mentioned, and yet what ignorance in respect to biblical knowledge among people who should be familiar with its contents! A bright young col- lege student, well versed in history and the sciences, spoke of Moses as the one who preached the sermon on the mount. Such gross inaccuracy concern- ing things most central to the world's religious progress is discreditable to any system of learning, and such superfine culture must leave unstable any edifice of human character. The Bible is to be used and not misused. As what is best is not always put to the best use, so there may be a misuse of the Word in lieu of faith- ful and earnest use. It is related that a plow was 24 OUR MOTHER'S BOOK sent into the wilds of Africa, which was received with many marks of appreciation by the natives. Following their instinct to convert it into an object of worship, they gave it a coat of red paint and installed it as one of their gods. In their igno- rance these crude tribes misused this valuable modern implement for the cultivation of the soil. It was intended to give new vigor to mother earth, to uproot weed and thistle, to uncover buried forces and to give them a new and untried life, and from nature's silences to awaken a golden harvest. We may thus misuse the Word. It must not be shelved, but should be used day by day. It is not the subject for study on Sunday alone, but its in- fluence must meet every daily need. It is not a fetich, a temporary object of worship, but a mes- sage of prophecy and revelation, of divine grace and mercy, to be cherished in our inmost souls with reverence and devotion. The supreme mes- sage of the Bible is not scientific, but religious. The Bible is not a text book of astronomy, ge- ology, or botany, nor merely a handbook for right living, but an infallible guide to the heart of God. A man traveling in the night does not look at his lamp for flaws, rather by its light at the dangers in his pathway. How many have testified to the fact that the Bible is the most worthy of books, to be read, be- lieved, and obeyed. Sir Walter Scott, about to leave this world, requested his son-in-law, Mr. Lockhart, to read to him. "What book?" asked 25 "LEST WE FORGET" Lockhart. "What book?" replied Sir Walter Scott. "There is but one book — the Bible." The old dying Scotchman, who has read so widely and contributed so many immortal pages to literature, gives this as his dying testimony. With reverence we should approach the book which was loved by our fathers and dearer to our mothers than earth's most precious jewels. Millions have found the stanza true: "Thou truest friend man ever knew, Thy constancy I've tried; When all were false I found thee true, My counselor and guide." Listening to the testimonies of the living and the dead from among the world's truly great souls, we are led to resolve never to neglect to read nor to refuse to obey the book our mothers read. When we find another book that produces better influ- ences for the making of nobler manhood and womanhood, a richer life, a grander civilization and brighter hopes for the life that now is, as well as the life that is to come, then, and only then, should we be willing to neglect this book; then, and only then, will we cease to conform our lives to its teachings; then, and only then, will we cease to sing: " Holy Bible, Book divine, Precious treasure, thou art mine; Mine to tell me whence I came, Mine to teach me what I am. 26 OUR MOTHER'S BOOK Mine to chide me when I rove, Mine to show a Saviour's love; Mine art thou to guide my feet, Mine to judge, condemn, acquit. Mine to comfort in distress, If the Holy Spirit bless; Mine to show by living faith Man can triumph over death. Mine to tell of joys to come, Light and life beyond the tomb; Holy Bible, Book divine, Precious treasure, thou art mine. 27 CHAPTER II Our Father's House Japan has been called a "nation in search of a new religion." Why "in search of a new religion?" Why not "a nation without a religion?" History and observation substantiate the statement that "man is incurably religious." The religious im- pulse is universal. It is found in all classes, in all climes, and in all centuries. Religious views may come and go, but religion is an everlasting reality. Some years since there lived an old colored preacher who repeatedly declared, "The sun do move." Some people made merry at his expense. But he lived a consistent life and led many of his people into the practice of the Christian life. His igno- rance of science in future years will matter little, but the virtues he practiced and inspired in others will abide forever. Man may get along without scientific knowledge, but not without providing for his religious nature. In view of this fact, we have no reasons to believe that there ever will be ushered in a churchless era. A program for humanity which omits the religious life, the ministry of the sanctuary, will prove to be sadly deficient. Our world to-day has many needs, but the spiritual needs are the most imperative. Deficiency in true 28 OUR FATHER'S HOUSE godliness accounts for nearly all other deficiencies. The things for which the sanctuary stands give to life its profoundest meaning. Now the sanctuary is not to be forgotten nor neglected because it is a place of worship. Man is made to worship. This heavenward tendency to worship is no human invention, but innate. He must worship; if not God, then stone, gold, or flesh. The climax of all man's faculties is a wor- shiping faculty. Men have tried to kill all faith, and yet they could not kill the demand to wor- ship. The essence of worship is the spirit of rev- erence, of prayer, and of praise. The sanctuary is the shrine of worship. Who would say that a man is not better and nobler for engaging in the exer- cise of worship, and doing it regularly? Who would say that the man who does not engage in it does not suffer an irreparable loss? The influence of "our Father's house" tends to bind together God and the human soul. Never does earth seem to rise quite so high nor heaven bend so low as when we worship in spirit and in truth. The sanctuary is not only a place of worship, but also a place of spiritual fellowship. Here the poor and the rich meet together and acknowledge the Lord as the Maker of them all. Here they sing: "Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love ; The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above." 29 "LEST WE FORGET" Here we feel that all men are brothers and God is their Father. You remember after the Duke of Wellington had returned from the battle of Water- loo there was a special service of thanksgiving. While Wellington was kneeling in church there came a man who had the marks of poverty and hardship and knelt by the side of Wellington. Some one touched him and said not to kneel so close, but the Duke of Wellington said to the man, "When we kneel before God all earthly distinctions are eliminated." All come as sinners seeking salva- tion, or as children seeking a blessing. Blessed is the fellowship in our Father's house. The idea of the sanctuary is that of safety. In the architecture of ancient Egypt there are found what are called sanctuary temples. Into these sanctuaries men came for safety in hours of danger and great distress. In history we read how men came and took hold upon the horns of the altar. Dean Stanley says of Westminster Abbey, "The precincts of Westminster Abbey were a vast cave of Adullum for all the distressed and discontented in the metropolis who desired, in the phrase of the time, 'to take Westminster.' ' That is to say, men in danger found their way in the older days into the church and there they were considered safe, and their confidence was respected. There is a refuge for those who are under the burden of sin. All literature and life are filled with the cry of men under the dread burden of sin. "The Scarlet Letter," "Faust," and hundreds 30 OUR FATHER'S HOUSE of other books are only the voicing of the souls' cry for help, for salvation from sin. In the sanctuary men are pointed to the cross of Christ and hear a multitude who have experienced the truth of the song they sing: " There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Immanuers veins, And sinners plunged beneath that flood Lose all their guilty stains." When daily duties grow wearisome, details bring friction, repetition converts employment into drudgery, and we for a moment wonder whether life is worth while, then out of the dust and turmoil of life we enter the quiet sanctuary. Here we find men, women, and children engaged in the same struggle with temptation, expressing the same sorrow in defeat and the same joy in victory. We see others striving in their places and in their way as we are to make this a better and a happier world. We realize that we are not alone, but that we are one of the great host who are working to usher in the kingdom of God. How many have fled to the sanctuary with broken heart in danger of falling in despair, as the Hebrew bard who wrote: "My feet were almost gone; my steps had well nigh slipped; until I went into the sanctuary of God." Then he exclaimed, "My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." 31 "LEST WE FORGET" How many of those who are singing in heaven are praising God for the fact that the sanctuary was for them a refuge amid the vicissitudes of life. The Father's house is also a place of comfort. Where did we go when in childhood we needed comfort? Home, to our father's house. There is a universal need of comfort. There are the sor- rows of youth, which are keenly felt because of life's limitations. There is so much to know, so much to do, such heights to attain, and the way is so steep and rough, and the strength so little. The burdens and the responsibilities of life press upon the youth for the first time with painful force. Then there is the sorrow caused by death. Little children, with their fresh and innocent lives, leave us. Young men and maidens full of fair hopes and beautiful promises are stricken down. Men and women in the prime of life, bearing heavy burdens, leave us, and we do not see how we can live without them. The aged, weak, and infirm pass away, and we are not ready for it. Longfellow's familiar words are true to experience: " There is no flock, however watched and tended. But one dead lamb is there; There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair!" Then there are deeper sorrows than those of limitation and death — the tragedies of moral fail- ure. A child seemingly trained with utmost care 32 OUR FATHER'S HOUSE enters the path that leads to degradation and de- struction. The youth once so pure and high- minded grows coarse and skeptical and flippant. Whither do we go for comfort? To our Father's house. How many millions have found comfort there that they would not have found elsewhere? Another reason why we cannot afford to neglect the sanctuary is the fact that those who enter the sanctuary as true worshipers will find new strength for life's tasks. A stranger entering a city asked, "What is that great building?" He received the reply, "It is a powerhouse that is felt constantly in all parts of the city, as many kinds of machin- ery are run by it." The sanctuary is a powerhouse. A moral and spiritual influence goes out from it every day to benefit every side of personal and so- cial life. What is the secret of the strength of the most influential men? William E. Gladstone, we are told, was an ideal worshiper in God's house. He made diligent use of the sanctuary. In old age he declared that he would not have lived so long had he not kept his Sundays quite apart from his po- litical life. It was refreshment and a source of strength to turn to the things of our Father's house on the Sabbath day. This gave him that firm and splendid ground which ennobled and hallowed all his actions. The sanctuary puts heart into men and women for the coming week. The mayor of an American city who distinguished himself and his administra- 3 33 "LEST WE FORGET" tions by high ideals and efficiency in the conduct of public affairs was asked how he was able to resist so heroically the temptations to which he was exposed. His voice grew soft as he replied, "I pray.'' Prayer not only transfigures life, but brings strength. "We kneel, how weak; we rise, how full of power." Then the sanctuary is the place where the true worshiper enjoys those blessings which constitute a foretaste of heaven. There the noise and bustle and din of the world do not disturb; there he feels the cooling breezes of divine favor, coming from the celestial hills, so that he realizes the truth of the words : "The hill of Zion yields A thousand sacred sweets, Before we reach the heavenly fields, Or walk the golden street-!" There he drinks from the fountain of life those fresh waters of unending blessedness; there he listens to the sounds of far-off music that saints and seraphs make in glory; there he holds sweet communion with God himself; there truly he has blessed foretastes of the glorious companionships and blissful employments of the heavenly sanc- tuary. What hours of rapture have been experi- enced in our Father's house! The sanctuary is a potent factor in life because it is a place of sacred associations. There are historic buildings that have become all but universally sacred. It is this 34 OUR FATHER'S HOUSE sentiment for historic associations that gave men a shock when they learned of the destruction of Shakespeare's house. After the poet had become famous in London he returned to his birthplace and built himself a house. There he wrote some of his greatest productions. Beside his fireplace this man of genius completed his "Winter Night" and the story of the white-haired "King Lear," who went under the rain and pitiless storm, a king un- cared for. By and by the fireplace was torn out beside which the poet had sat many a night, and the window through which he looked out on the garden was destroyed. Soon the cellar alone re- mained. Some buildings seem to be almost holy things. This is especially true of our Father's house. What hallowed associations and sacred memories cluster around the sanctuary! There in the dear old church we have had blessed seasons of refreshment. There God revealed himself to the soul as truly as to Jacob at Bethel. As we enter the sanctuary where in days gone by we worshiped, faces and old scenes rise before us. Here we offered prayers; here we sang gladsome hymns; here solemn vows were made; here we consecrated our- selves to God; here we found that peace which passeth all understanding; here the soul was made strong for life's duties and temptations; here our upward aspirations were quickened; here the hands of dear friends were clasped; here a message from the Book of books was heard; here the memory of faces now vanished from our sight and voices now 35 "LEST WE FORGET" silent were awakened: here hope of future blessed- ness was renewed ; here we received inspiring visions of that glorious and eternal home of the redeemed. Can we afford to forget or neglect such a place? One day a young man was found in the pulpit of a certain church in which the preacher had breathed his last breath while in the pulpit. There was the son of this godly man on his knees, sobbing before God and praying for grace that he might follow his father's God. Perhaps we may not have mem- ories quite as impressive as that, but there are many of us who know very well what made father and mother what they were: it was their piety, and their piety was nourished in the sanctuary. The sanctuary should be a potent incentive for us to say, "My father's God, I will exalt him." How insig- nificant are some of the world's magnificent struc- tures compared with the modest church called our Father's house! May our prayer be to God: "As the years roll over, And strong affections twine, And tender memories gather About this sacred shrine, May this its chief distinction, Its glory, ever be, That multitudes within it Have found their way to Thee." Jesus gave expression to a significant truth when he said, "Man shall not live by bread alone." There are human needs deeper, infinitely deeper, 36 OUR FATHER'S HOUSE and more persistent than the needs of material things. The materialistic spirit is fierce, tempta- tions assail on every side, and the tendency to look down instead of up is so strong that, without one day in the week in which man dwells in his Father's house, he will find himself gradually going down. A man whose salary is twenty-five thousand dollars per year said : "Men are sure to retrograde and lose ground if they neglect the church. My prosperity will be my defeat unless I am careful. I find now that I am constantly thinking of business and scheming to increase my riches." The function of the sanc- tuary is to lift man above the things of time and sense into the region of the eternal and imperish- able ideals. This is the great need of every age. We are not to forget that the flowers get their fragrance and beauty largely from the heavens above. The influences of the house of God tend to drive out of human life the devils of lust, of greed, and of selfishness in every form, and to enthrone the Christ spirit of unselfishness and love. The tendency is to lift the whole life to a higher and grander and more useful plane. What a blessing that on the Sabbath day the church bell calls weary souls to forget the noise and din and to come and worship, to receive new visions and renewed strength! We are rightly to value the ministries of our Father's house. The inscription on a cer- tain church reads, "Around this temple let the merchant's law be just, his weights be true, and 37 "LEST WE FORGET" his covenants faithful." A beautiful epitome of the influences which radiate from the sanctuary to elevate and purify the world. Such influences that bring pure joy and true inspiration for everyday life, which would be drudgery without this inspira- tion, are above price. Who can adequately measure the value of the sanctuary to the world? Every part of the service furnishes relief from the rush and stress, the burdens and cares of the week. The music calms and refreshes. The hymns lift the soul above the plane of the secular and common- place. The message from the Bible brings a sense of responsibility and encouragement not suggested by the daily activities. Thus the sanctuary be- comes one of the most important agencies in build- ing Christlike characters to go forth as the light of the world and salt of the earth. Such men, women, and children trained and equipped in the Sunday school and church services are the best gift to a community. They go out into a world of business, into political life, into the work of edu- cation, philanthropy, charity, and into all the walks of life taking with them the principles and ideals which make for righteousness and true prosperity. We are to avail ourselves of the opportunities to make the most of God's house. When the bell sounds forth the invitation, may we share the feel- ing of the Hebrew bard when he wrote, "I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord." The reason some absent 38 OUR FATHER'S HOUSE themselves from the church is that they have a wrong conception of its blessings. We pass a large church building, and in passing we are told that a certain window is rich in coloring. As we look at the window, however, we see noth- ing but pieces of dull glass held together by strips of lead. There is no design, no beauty. It is all blurred, indistinct, and dark. There is noth- ing remarkable about that window, we say, but as we enter we see a blaze of light streaming in through that window in diversified tints. It is gorgeous, magnificent, indescribable. We may re- main outside of the sanctuary and ask, "What has the sanctuary for me? " But for the true worshiper how r soul enriching! There are those who have in a measure atrophied their spiritual natures. They have starved their souls. Their life lacks spiritual communion, a vision of unseen realities. Their lives seem bounded by a cradle at one end and a grave at the other. They who undervalue the sanctuary do not realize the injury they are inflict- ing upon themselves and others. Let us make the sanctuary an inviting and help- ful place for those who enter its portals. We are to do our utmost to make the sanctuary our spir- itual home, our Father's house, where God's chil- dren gather as members of the great divine family. Therefore the keynote must be love. May we ever have a fervent love for our Father's house as the Psalmist, who wrote: "How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts! My soul longeth, 39 "LEST WE FORGET" yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than to dwell (for a long time) in the tents of wickedness." In his book " Laymen in Action," Bishop William A. Quayle writes: "My father was a Kansas farmer. In old days he had been a sea- faring man, and after that a miner, and in later years a farmer, and his hands were hard and never manicured. He belonged to the Methodist Episco- pal Church, and loved it, too. He never faltered in his love and faithfulness. He was a man of huge seafaring voice and whispered like a gale of sea storm winds. He was everything in the church by turns, and sometimes all at once. He was trustee, steward, classleader, and on Thursday evenings, when we were farmers together, he stopped early so that he might be at the prayer- meeting. He was never absent. When there was no janitor, my father was janitor. He raised the preachers salary. I never knew a preacher to leave a charge unpaid when my father was alive, and I think they got so in the habit of paying then that never since his death have they failed to be honest with their minister. His house was where the new minister came when he landed in the town; for his predecessor told him to go to Uncle Tommy's, and he went; and there was no haste about his moving to his new home. He was very 40 OUR FATHER'S HOUSE welcome and his family with him. And all sorts of things my father did for the preacher, and gladly, never grudgingly. He wanted to do things for the church. You could not keep him from it. He loved it and that was the end of it. At the preaching service he would sit on the front seat with his bearded chin in his hands and look at the preacher, look and drink of the water of life; and his face was beautiful to see. He looked like John Ruskin, strangely so, like a rural John Ruskin, and all the poetry John Ruskin had for beauty, that poetry my father had for the church. All its services were benedictions to him. "What will we do, Uncle Tommy, when you are not here?" was what folks would say to him often, very often. They needed him. "And one day, far away from his little home town, he died in hearing of the sea, and came back alone on a long pilgrimage of silence to his little church; for, to be sure he must be buried from that. And the storm was wild that day of the funeral, and the wind swept and the snows whirled and drifted and the lanes were deep with snow and the wind nipped like the edge of a dagger; and there in the little church, where he should sit no more, he lay at the chancel, hands folded, face asleep, and the preacher rose to speak. The little church was full and the faces were sad to see. There were sobs ere any word was spoken or any song hymned. Uncle Tommy was come to his beloved church for the last time. And the preacher rose 41 "LEST WE FORGET" and subbed rather than said, 'Brother Quayle loved the church,' and there was a sob. I hear it yet. It was the sob of a church. The service passed, and people came and laid their hands on my shoulder and said, 'Will, your father loved the church,' and then they could say no farther for their weeping. And strong men laid their heads on my shoulder, saying, if sobbing may be called saying, 'What will our church do when Uncle Tommy is gone from us?' "And I, this farmer's son, who had read much history and knew the world's dignitaries as their names are written down in history in the indelible ink of great achievements, was that stormy day of burial of my father prouder to be the son of a man who loved the church than to have been a son of an emperor. "And if I, his son, were to fail or falter in love to the church or fealty to it, my father's voice would sound like the sound of drums through my neglect, 'Boy, you are my boy, and you must love the church." And, God being my helper, I will. Write this above my father's grave: 'He loved the church.' "And the angels will come to read that epitaph." Shall not we, too, love the church and be faith - ful to its claims? 42 CHAPTER III Our Country's Only Hope The annals of the world are a record of changes, a record of powers born, that waxed strong, flour- ished, and decayed. In turning over the pages of history we are met on every hand by the ruins of nations once powerful and prosperous. Kingdoms came and passed away; empires flourished and de- cayed; republics rose and fell; and at the former seat of power, glory, and dominion we see to-day vveakness, desolation, and subjugation. What then, weighing the future by the past, will be the fate of America? Will she too present to coming generations so sad a spectacle as those handed down to us? Will her history so glorious in the past, so jubilant and conquering now, go forward only to end in the hushed knell of death and funeral pyres? We answer, God forbid such a fate! America is beyond doubt a favored spot. The Creator of continents has blessed us with special natural advantages. Endowed as we are with an extensive territory, sweeping from ocean to ocean, and from the Gulf to the Great Lakes; with unpar- alleled treasures in mines and fertility of soil; with a rare network of waterways and unequaled ad- 43 "LEST WE FORGET" vantages of transportation on land and sea, we are, perhaps, the most wealthy and advantageously situated people among all nations of the world. But will these assure future preservation and con- tinued prosperity? Go ask the sage centuries of the past, and they answer, "No." We see dead nations rising, as it were, from the tombs, and like specters calling across the centuries, "No, no, no." Unless material prosperity be used in the right way it will only tend to effeminate a nation and serve as fuel to hasten the great conflagration. Neither are great armies and navies,' nor brilliancy of intellect, literature, science, or art sufficient requisites for ultimate preservation. Greece, polished and learned, famed the world over for culture and thought, on one hand, and Rome, conquering and mighty in war, flying her peerless eagles over the prostrate battlements of the nations of the earth, on the other hand, have conclusively proved that the safety of a people lies not in strength of intellect, nor rrlight of arms. Therefore these advantages, very desirable in themselves, are insuf- ficient safeguards for our government in days of ad- versity. What then of ultimate America? Shall we, heedless of the warning death knell of other nations equally favored, be so blinded by the daz- zling splendor of material welfare and intellectual achievements as not to see or anticipate any danger? What though, by our unrivaled position, we are in no danger of European subjugation? What though we can successfully close our ports • 44 OUR COUNTRY'S ONLY HOPE against Mongolian hordes? Is it not possible that in the very bosom of cultured America there may be engendered malignant forces sufficient for her overthrow? Are there not already maladies which are silently but not less surely eating at the very vitals of our nation? The atmos- phere is full of ominous signs. High surge the tides of immorality, vice, depravity, and crime. The strife between capital and labor waxes hotter and hotter. Our pclitical liberties and national institutions tremble like a leaf in a hurricane blast under the nefarious and insidious attacks made upon them. A prospect of gloom, foreboding, and strife. What can save us? What can prevent the deluge and turn the tide from our beloved shores? If wealth, power, and education are not sufficient safeguards of naticnal security, what is? There is only one balm for our people, only one port of safety against coming storms, only one remedy for all pclitical and social evils, and its name is "Christianity." In genuine Christianity is our only hope anchored. This it is that has been the light and life of our country in the past. It rocked the cradle of our national birth, hovered over us in infancy, was the guide of our youth and guardian of our manhood. It was, is now, and always will be the guardian angel of our national life. The spirit of Christianity, pervading all, vivifies, elevates, and ennobles. It awakens true humanity ; it frees the slaves of every type; it begets and fosters the love of freedom, 45 "LEST WE FORGET" home, and fatherland. It brings independence to the individual; love and harmony to the family, fraternity and equality to the people, true patri- otism to the citizen, and unity to a nation. Take away Christianity and you destroy the very foun- dation of our individual and national character. Without it true morality expires; happiness is blasted; patriotism fades away; political death en- sues; virtue sickens and dies, and with its death the nation will sink into its tomb. Woe to that people who link their fortune to anything contrary to the immutable laws of Je- hovah, for their doom is nigh! Read the history of the rise, progress, and decay of nations, and you will see written across its pages in large letters of fire these words of warning: "Righteousness ex- alteth a nation; but sin is a reproach to any people." What city, nation, government, or power founded upon unrighteousness and living without the favor of God ever survived? Did Egypt, rich and mighty, boasting in her greatness and scorning at righteousness? See how her power has crumbled, her thrones have fallen until she crouches low at the feet of the mighty of earth. Where to-day is the power and glory of world-famed Babylon? Buried in the sands of the desert, together with Xineveh, her rival in sin and ungodliness. Yea, Rome, too, the "Mistress of the World," at whose tread the nations trembled, who crushed -everything beneath her iron heel, when her people became pregnant with iniquity and trampled underfoot 46 OUR COUNTRY'S ONLY HOPE truth, virtue, and righteousness, could not stand. but became the prey of her own depravity, and was humbled to dust. All these demonstrate the great truth that "the nation or kingdom that will not serve God shall perish." Will America doubt the uniformity of the di- vine judgment thus revealed throughout the ages? Ah, let her ponder and consider well! How dare she hope to be an exception to the working of im- mutable laws of the Supreme Ruler? Nay, though mountains crumble and fall, continents tremble and divide; though institutions pass away and systems of government disappear, not a jot of divine law will fail or fall. If America should ever, as a nation, turn away from the Most High, then will her free institutions be buried in disgrace. Shall we fall and thus go on record as another warning to posterity? God save America! May the lessons of past generations serve as a solemn warning for her. May she heed the voice of his- tory and learn that true religious principles alone are a safe basis for all true government, as well as continued prosperity. Therefore let it strike home to every heart that Christianity is "our country's only hope!" Let every one rise to his mission in thoroughly Christianizing America and in making honest, in- telligent, and Christian patriots of its citizens, so that the shout may go around the globe, "America is a Christian nation in name and in deed." Then, favored in the sight of God, no future 47 ^ "LEST WE FORGET" will be too grand for America, no language rich enough to paint the picture of that joyous day which will usher in ultimate America, the bright and shining jewel of all the world's possessions. 48 CHAPTER IV The Evening of Life "Will you love me when I'm old?" The bridegroom, a cautious man, hesitated a moment, for he knew something of human nature; then answered, "Yes, darling, if you are lovable." There is a great difference between old age and old age. There is an old age that is abject and pitiable. There are people who shrivel as they grow old, becoming poorer and meaner in heart and life as the years go by. A Godless old age is ugly and de- formed, dark and despairing. To see men who are advanced in years looking for enjoyment where none is to be found, actually incapacitated for hap- piness, is a sight sad enough to make angels weep. Here is Byron, an old man before life's meridian is reached, who might be singing about the glory of the eventide of life, but instead lamenting: "My days are in the yellow leaf, The flow r er and fruit of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone ! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze, A funeral pile." But if there is an old age that is pitiful, there is also an old age that is beautiful. There is a 4 49 "LEST WE FORGET" glory of the morning, there is a glory of the evening, there is a glory of the springtime with its fragrant flowers and singing birds; there is also a glory of the autumn time wdth trees ablaze in gorgeous hue. Youth has its glory, and so has old age. There is the kind of growing old that means growing ripe and rich and sweet and strong. There have been those who have reached life's eventide and said that the happiest time of life is not youth, but old age. When Fontanelle was asked what period of life he considered the most fortunate, he replied, "From sixty to eighty." At that age one reaps what he has sown. It is the harvest time. Yet there are not a few who rebel against growing old. They look upon old age as a calamity. They ask, "What is left to live for when the charm of youth has faded and the strength of manhood has de- parted?" It has been said, "We hope to grow old, and yet we fear old age." Why this horror of being old? This dread of growing old is partly due to the physical disabilities that come with the years. The poet, thinking of these infirmities of age, wrote : " I'm growing fonder of my staff, I'm growing dimmer in the eyes; I'm growing fainter in my laugh; I'm growing deeper in my sighs; I'm growing careless of my dress; I'm growing frugal of my gold; I'm growing wise; I'm growing, yes — I'm growing old." SO THE EVENING OF LIFE Another reason why some dread old age is the fact that many of those we love pass beyond the bound of life and leave us behind. Old age is sometimes very lonely. School friends with whom the old man plodded to the district school, where are they? Those with whom he associated in his college days, where are they? Father and mother and others of the family circle, where are they? Ah ! during the march of the years they have passed on before, and he himself is left like a solitary tree in a dreary waste. This was one of Bismarck's complaints when old. How many sigh in their de- clining years, "Oh for the touch of a vanished hand and the sound of a voice that is still ! ' ' This solitude seems cause for shrinking from the very thought of growing old. But notwithstanding these and other reasons, the fact remains that a bright, happy, and useful old age is possible for all who in the providence of God reach the three score years and ten or more. If this is to be our happy lot, we must not forget that a blessed old age can only be realized if cer- tain conditions are met. It is important that we retain a lively interest in the growing world. We are to keep our minds open to the new things the world is learning and doing, open to the last word of human progress. We must welcome it with youthful gladness. We are not to lose the enthusiasm, the zest of life. We are to remain in touch with the world in which we live. One of the great thoughts which will tend to 51 "LEST WE FORGET" make life's evening bright is this: God is the author and impulse of the great movement in which I live; that movement is the one force which binds age to age; it is the soul of history; it is the march of God; I shall league my life with this movement which runs so swiftly toward the eternal good. What a potent factor such a conception of life and the consciousness that we are doing our duty until life's latest hour! Such a man, faithful unto the end, will never feel himself to be cast away rub- bish in God's universe, but may sing hopefully and triumphantly: "I doubt not through the ages one increasing pur- pose runs. And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns." This spirit of Christian optimism enabled Long- fellow at the age of seventy-five years to sing: 4 'Out of the shadows of night The world rolls into light; It is daybreak everywhere." If we are to enjoy a happy old age, it is of great moment that we start in the right direction all through life's beginnings. A young lady who was expressing great admiration for the face and char- acter of a saintly old lady said, "I wouldn't mind growing old if I knew I should look like her when I'm her age." One who overheard her said : "Then 52 THE EVENING OF LIFE you must begin at once. Such characters and faces as hers are not made in a hurry. She has been a pupil of Christ all her life." If youth and man- hood have been wasted we cannot expect to find that measure of light at eventide that would have been ours if our days of youth had J^een spent in the ways of righteousness. Therefore it is of im- portance that we begin to prepare for old age dur- ing the years that lead up to it. Life's evening takes its character from the day that precedes it. Again, to grow old gracefully we need to learn that every period of human life has its particular privilege, its particular duty, its particular glory. God has blessed and hallowed every era of our earthly existence. "Age is opportunity no less than youth." As there is beauty after its kind in every season, so every period of human life — child- hood, manhood, and old age — is made beautiful in its time. People would not pity aged persons if they realized that old age has beauties of its own not less satisfying than youth. A man at forty does not seek enjoyment in the toys of childhood. These have been outgrown. He is interested in larger things. So happy old age does not sigh for the blossoms that have faded, but gathers with joy the ripe fruits of the full wisdom and affection that come with the years. Although departing youth takes away some things, old age brings other things more precious, things that can only come with the years. Richter says, "Like a morning dream, life becomes more and more bright the 53 "LEST WE FORGET" longer we live." Old age is not to be regarded as a wreck of youth and manhood, but as the con- summation of life. Faith in God through Jesus Christ is that which above everything else helps to make life's sunset bright and useful. A happy old age means an old age made happy by the Christ of Paul, who wrote: "For which cause we faint not, but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is re- newed day by day." Dr. A. J. Gordon, meeting an aged man who was on his way to the sanctuary, said, "Friend, how is it that so old a man is so merry and cheerful?" "Because I belong to the Lord," was the reply. Dr. Gordon said, "Are no others happy at your time of life? The bent form straightened and the countenance glowed as he said, "Listen to the truth from one who knows, then tell it everywhere, and no man of three score and ten can be found to gainsay it: the devil has no happy old men." Walking by a bed of sweet 5, a pastor said to a man eighty-four years of age, "Tell me what makes some of those sweet peas pink and others white." His answer contained but one word, "God." What makes some old peo- ple content and a benediction to all with whom they come in contact, though others are a curse to themselves and to others? The answer is "God." A life lacking faith in God, a Godless life, cannot be truly happy; and a life of faith, a Godly life, cannot be without joy or helpfulness to the world. If we are to learn the art of growing old grace- 54 THE EVENING OF LIFE fully, it is important that we ever bear in mind that the aged have a mission as well as those who are in the meridian of life. How the notion that life's usefulness has ended paralyzes the soul! A mother of about four score sent for her son and said to him, "Frederick, I think the time has come that I am to leave the world." u Why do you think so, mother?" he asked. " Because the Lord does not seem to have anything more for me to do; nobody seems to need me." "You are mistaken, mother," the son replied; "there was a Jew here a few days ago in much distress, wishing that he might see you and get some advice from you." Being assured that she was still needed and useful in her family circle and in the community, her soul took fresh courage, her strength revived, and she lived eight years longer, eight more years of use- fulness. Her son has said that undoubtedly his mother's life would have ended when she thought there was nothing more fdr her to do if she had not been led to realize that somebody needed her. We should never permit ourselves to say that the day of our usefulness is past. Some have done their best work in life's eventide. The Apostle Paul was "Paul the aged" when he wrote the most forceful of his epistles. Bryant wrote his "Flood of Years" at eighty-two. Humboldt began his stupendous work on the "Cosmos" at seventy-five and continued until ninety. John Wesley was one of the busiest men of his time on his eighty-eighth birthday. Cato learned Greek at 55 "LEST WE FORGET" eighty; Goethe, toiling to the last, completed 11 Faust" when four score years were past. Such mental vigor of the aged may be deemed excep- tional, but such cases show how far the gulf stream of youth may flow into the arctic regions of old age. But with right ideals of life and duty, old age cannot prove cold and fruitless. When the feeling comes that old age has out- lived its usefulness and has no further mission be- cause of infirmities, then we are to recall the words of Milton: "They also serve who only stand and wait." We may help others without being aware of it. If strength remains in old age, then it should be used for the welfare of others; if that fails, then age should counsel; if both should be impossible, then old age may still give testimony to God's goodness and faithfulness. With what force does the testimony of an aged person come to every hearer! If a young person should say, "I have never seen the righteous forsaken nor his seed begging bread," some one could reply, "You are but a youth, and have not seen much of life." But how different if spoken by a man three score and ten. One of God's aged saints arose in a meet- ing and said: "I think all an old man can do is to bear testimony to his Master. These five and forty years I have walked in his truth. Young people, hear what I have to say. He has been my God these live and forty years, and I have no fault to find with him. I have found religion's ways to 1 >e ways of pleasantness, and her paths to be paths 56 THE EVENING OF LIFE of peace." What a power for good is such a tes- timony given by an old man! The world is so much better and sweeter because of the ministry rendered by old age. Thus laboring, counseling, or testifying, old age is a mighty inspiration to others, and not less so if attended by physical feebleness and helplessness. Such an influence is more potent than all other feats of physical strength or mental greatness. If we are to come to the close of our days joy- fully, it is of importance that our retrospect be made a desirable one. Old folks live largely in halls of memory. If one's past be full of misspent hours, of lost opportunities, then memory must be a source of remorse and bitterness. How miser- able is that old age in which phantoms rise from the past, tormenting the soul with vain regrets and dark forebodings! How important, then, that we banish from our lives all that is evil and ear- nestly covet all that is good. Then in life's evening one's memories will be ministering angels that will ever remain with us. A good past is a source of perpetual joy. Old people walk through the pic- ture gallery of memory beholding the scenes of their childhood and those of middle age; they see the old home where they were accustomed to kneel in prayer with their father and mother; they re- call precious hours spent in the sanctuary; they remember how blessed it is to give one's self to God and live for him and humanity. Such can truly say: 57 "LEST WE FORGET" " I have a room whereinto no one enters Save myself alone: There sits a blessed memory on a throne, There my life centers." Finally, a happy and contented old age must also have a hopeful future. With the conscious- ness of a glorious immortality, the aged saint looks hopefully into the future. He moves forward not as one leaving his treasures, but as one who is about to take full possession of his inheritance, incorruptible and undefiled and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven. At the end of a hard day's toil a weary mother said to her son, "Well, I am one day nearer my grave." "No, mother," the son quickly answered, "you are just one day nearer home: we are Christians." A soul that is in-dwelt by Christ need not be afraid of death, but may look forward to the end of life's journey as an entrance to an eternal home. One of God's saints, passing through the valley of death, while lingering in the twilight, exclaimed, "Beautiful!" "It is indeed a beautiful morning," said his weep- ing wife. "Shall I open the shutters to give a better view?" "O," responded he, "I have looked a great way beyond the shutters." How dark and hopeless would old age be if we could not look beyond the shutters. When the day is done, and well done, how the forward look contents the heart and strengthens the soul! How the future prospect adds to the glory of the eventide of a life 58 THE EVENING OF LIFE well spent! When Moses went up into a mountain to die, earthly things vanished, but his death song was, "Underneath are the everlasting arms." While the earthly house of this tabernacle is tum- bling down, the uplift of the eternal is unmistak- able. What an inspiring outlook and uplook must "Paul the aged" have had when he penned these words: "I am now ready to be offered and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the right- eous Judge, shall give me at that day, and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his ap- pearing." His was a look far beyond the prison bars. May we, by the help of God, so live that even in old age we can sing: "The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made; Our times are in His hand Who saith, 'A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: See all, nor be afraid!' " Then as the sun of our earthly life >ink> behind the hills of time and life's twilight begins to merge into the radiant dawn of eternity, we can look up to our heavenly Father with full confidence and say: 59 "LEST WE FORGET" "So long Thy power hath blessed me, sure it still Will lead me on ; O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till The night is gone. And with the morn those angel faces smile, Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile." And thus cheered with the glorious morning of that eternal day, there shall appear the undimmed vision of God and the realization of immortal youth. 60