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diff --git a/old/67624-h/67624-h.htm b/old/67624-h/67624-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 2822c02..0000000 --- a/old/67624-h/67624-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6099 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - Unfinished Rainbows and Other Essays, - by George Wood Anderson—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - /* Original book: Century Schoolbook. */ - font-family: serif; -} - -h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -h1 { - font-size: 250%; - font-weight: normal; - /* Original book: Bodoni */ - font-family: serif; -} - -h1 .subtitle { - font-size: 80%; -} - -h2 { - font-size: 100%; - font-weight: bold; - text-transform: uppercase; - font-family: inherit; - line-height: 200%; -} - -h2 .chdot { - /* Include the dot in the outline but not in the text - (to match the original book). */ - visibility: hidden; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; - border: none; - border-bottom: 1px solid; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -.first-word {font-variant: small-caps;} - -table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; -} - -/* ToC: chapter number */ -td.chn { - text-align: right; - vertical-align: top; - padding-right: 0.3em; -} - -/* ToC: "PAGE" heading */ -th.pag { - text-align: right; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: small-caps; - text-transform: lowercase; -} - -/* ToC: page number */ -td.pag { - text-align: right; - padding-left: 1em; - /* Unknown font in the original book. - Someone made a font named "Opera Lyrics Smooth" - apparently based on the same original font: - http://www.maltedmedia.com/people/bathory/index.html */ -} - -td.cht { - font-variant: small-caps; -} - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - text-indent: 0em; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; - color: silver; - background-color: #fff; -} -span[title].pagenum:after { - content: attr(title); -} -@media (max-width: 500px) { - .pagenum { - visibility: hidden; - } -} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -/* Images */ - -img { - max-width: 100%; - height: auto; -} - -.logo { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; - height: 7em; - margin: 2em 0; -} - -/* Poetry */ -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} -.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} -/* large inline blocks don't split well on paged devices */ -@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-top:2.5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Unfinished Rainbows, by George Wood Anderson</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Unfinished Rainbows</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>And Other Essays</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: George Wood Anderson</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 13, 2022 [eBook #67624]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: MFR and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNFINISHED RAINBOWS ***</div> - - - - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" -style="width:50%;height:auto;max-width:100%;" -alt="Book cover, with the text “Unfinished Rainbows, George Wood Anderson” in red on a textured purple background."/> -</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h1>Unfinished Rainbows<br/> -<span class="subtitle">And Other Essays</span></h1> - -<p class="center" style="font-size:120%;font-variant:small-caps;">by<br/> -GEORGE WOOD ANDERSON</p> - -<p class="center"> -<img class="logo" src="images/abingdon.png" alt="Abingdon Press logo"/> -</p> - -<p class="center">THE ABINGDON PRESS<br/> -<span style="font-size:80%"><span style="margin-right:5em;">NEW YORK</span> -<span style="margin-left:5em;">CINCINNATI</span></span> -</p> - -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="center" style="margin: 2em 0;">Copyright, 1922, by<br/> -GEORGE WOOD ANDERSON</p> - -<p class="center"><small>Printed in the United States of America</small> -</p> - -</div> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">Contents</h2> -</div> - - -<table class="toc" summary="Contents"> -<tr><th></th><th></th><th class="pag">PAGE</th></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">I.</td><td class="cht">Unfinished Rainbows</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">II.</td><td class="cht">Gathering Sunsets</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">III.</td><td class="cht">Beyond the Curtained Clouds</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">IV.</td><td class="cht">Tilling the Sky</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">V.</td><td class="cht">Unquarried Statues</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">VI.</td><td class="cht">The Ages to Come</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">VII.</td><td class="cht">The Unlocked Door of Truth</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">VIII.</td><td class="cht">Weaving Sunbeams</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">IX.</td><td class="cht">The Pathway of a Noble Purpose</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">X.</td><td class="cht">Swords for Moral Battles</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XI.</td><td class="cht">Spiced Wine</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XII.</td><td class="cht">The Fever of Health</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XIII.</td><td class="cht">The Wisdom of the Unlearned</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XIV.</td><td class="cht">The Strength of Weakness</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XV.</td><td class="cht">Crumbling Palaces</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XVI.</td><td class="cht">The Echo of Life’s Unsung Songs</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XVII.</td><td class="cht">Modern Judases</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XVIII.</td><td class="cht">The Adjustable Universe</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XIX.</td><td class="cht">Seeing Love</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XX.</td><td class="cht">The Dignity of Labor</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XXI.</td><td class="cht">Above the Commonplace of Sin</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XXII.</td><td class="cht">The Investment of a Life</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XXIII.</td><td class="cht">Thought Planting</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XXIV.</td><td class="cht">The Rosary of Tears</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XXV.</td><td class="cht">The Hearthstone of the Heart</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="chn">XXVI.</td><td class="cht">The Unoared Sea</td><td class="pag"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td></tr> -</table> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_5"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 5" id="Page_5"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="I">I<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Unfinished Rainbows</h2> -</div> - - -<p><span class="first-word">The</span> rainbow was only a fragment of an arch -because the needed sunshine was withheld. Had -the sunlight been permitted to permeate all the -atmosphere with its golden glow, the arch would -have spanned the entire heavens.</p> - -<p>This is the reason why, in hours of sorrow, we -do not grasp the fullness of God’s promise; we -permit the denser clouds of doubt and faithlessness -to keep the light of God from shining -through our griefs; or, with a little faith, we get -a gleam of light that gives us but a tiny fragment -of the bow.</p> - -<p>While all the operations of this natural world -are tokens of God’s unfailing thoughtfulness in -keeping his covenant with man, a great event -has made the rainbow peculiarly the embodiment -of that thought. Looking from the narrow -window of the wave-tossed ark, upon the silent -grandeur of a world slowly arising from the -waters of an universal flood, Noah beheld the -rainbow and rejoiced in the blest assurance, -that, while the things of man are subject to the -ravages of time and destruction of contending<a href="#Page_6"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 6" id="Page_6"></span></a> -elements, the things of God are always stable -and secure. The most permanent products of -man’s hand and mind are soon swept away, but -the things of God endure, and continue faithful, -in working out their appointed courses. Through -storm or calm, events march with steady, unceasing -tread, knowing that God’s roads are never -worn, and God’s bridges never tremble and fall. -Above the placid, mysterious world, calmly -emerging from the muddy, wreck-strewn waters, -was the peaceful, radiant bow, smiling in confidence -upon him and his companions. The -world had changed, but the rainbow was just as -it had always been, stately, serene, and unaffrighted. -The crumbling, flood-torn earth had -not weakened its foundations, the drenching -rains had not faded its colors, the hurrying, -wind-swept clouds could not disturb it. Though -it were made out of hurrying light and drifting -mist it would not be swayed or moved even a -little. Under its archway walked the guarding -angels of God. Over the waters came the clear -voice once heard in Eden, uttering the promise, -“And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud -over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the -cloud: and I will remember my covenant.”</p> - -<p>That is a sweeping promise that is literally -fulfilled in nature. All clouds carry rainbows. -Most of them are never seen by us because we<a href="#Page_7"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 7" id="Page_7"></span></a> -lack the necessary keenness of vision, or the -proper point of view to behold their woven -colors; many are only partially seen because -something intervenes and prevents a perfect -intersection of heavenly sunlight with our earth-born -mists; many are within the vision of all -observing men; but, whether we see it or not, -for every cloud there is a scarf of red and orange -and yellow and green and blue and scarlet and -purple. So, in spiritual matters, we find that for -every sorrow there are beautiful assurances of -God’s presence and unwavering covenant-keeping -power. If we do not see them it is not God’s -fault, for the light of his faithfulness transfixes -every cloud that arises above his earth-born -children.</p> - -<p>There are the clouds of bereavement. The -Death Angel defied your love-locked doors and -bolted windows. Heeding neither your cry nor -your pleadings, he entered your home and -pushed aside the doctor and attending nurses -and friends, and touching the heart of your loved -one, stilled it to sleep. Your grief was such that -you did not see how you could live. The home -seemed empty and strangely silent. The entire -pathway seemed shrouded in the somber -shadows of your grief. Life was a desolation. -But you did not give up in despair. There was -a bow in the cloud. An arch of seven brilliant<a href="#Page_8"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 8" id="Page_8"></span></a> -hues reached from one horizon to another -horizon, and you knew that the One in whom -you had placed your trust had proven true. He -had not forgotten you. Looking at the rainbow, -the token of his covenant, you read in its -mingled colors the words of the Lord Jesus, -“I am the resurrection, and the life: he that -believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall -he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in -me shall never die.” In your sorrow you found -that the bow of God’s promises never trembles.</p> - -<p>You were facing financial disaster. All your -investments had proven bad. You had been -misled by false counsel. The savings of years -had been swept away by one fell swoop of disaster, -and with them had gone all the fond plans -for the future of your family and loved ones. -Your head reeled as you felt the earth giving -way beneath you; you were about to close your -eyes in despair, when suddenly, in the darkest -part of the overshadowing cloud, you saw the -rainbow. God had not forgotten you. Amid the -whirl and destruction of things his promises -never trembled. Its gleaming colors told you -that you were not alone, and spelled such a -message of hope and inspiration to your soul, -that you smiled in the face of adversity. Here -was the promise, “There is no want to them that -fear Him.” You had never seen the beauty of<a href="#Page_9"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 9" id="Page_9"></span></a> -those words before. You felt the thrill of a new -life and the confidence that you once placed in -riches, you now centered upon God.</p> - -<p>There were the dark clouds of misplaced -friendship. You were confident that the one in -whom you were placing your trust was worthy, -but through that friendship you were betrayed, -and misrepresented, and made the object of -scorn and criticism. No cloud is darker than -that, no sorrow is harder to bear, and yet you -did not lose confidence in man. Above the -feathered edges of the cloud was the rainbow of -God’s promise, and you knew that if even father -and mother forsook you, the Lord would take -you up. The rainbow, as the symbol of God’s -promise, said: “Lo, I am with you always, even -unto the end of the world.”</p> - -<p>But some one says, “I have never been able -to grasp the <em>fullness</em> of these promises. Amid -life’s clouds I cannot see the presence of the -Almighty.” That is not God’s fault, but because -one hinders the coming of the light. If you do -not permit the Spirit of God to shine upon your -sorrow with its golden light, the ministration of -the rainbow to your sorrow-smitten soul will -never be complete. The comforts of God are -known only by those who are willing to receive -his holy ministrations. The rainbow is never -finished for the one who refuses to receive Christ<a href="#Page_10"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 10" id="Page_10"></span></a> -fully and completely into his life. He is the -Light of the world, and his presence always -brings the promises of the Father to their fullest -possible earthly revelation and application. His -revelations are always complete and as comforting -as they are beautiful. His clear light of -goodness has always been making battle against -the darkness of sin’s mists and fogs. He is never -satisfied until his love has intercepted every -overshadowing cloud so that when you behold -the streaming banners of the bow, that always -follows and never precedes a storm, you may -know that you, through him, have already -gotten the victory. Light triumphs. The overshadowing -cloud is pierced. Instead of somberness -there is beauty.</p> - -<p>The earthly rainbows will never be complete. -Here we behold at best only a segment of a -perfect circle. We have but a one-world view -and therefore can behold but half the rainbow. -In heaven we shall see the completed circle, as -John beheld it in his vision and exclaimed, with -rapturous delight, “There was a rainbow round -about the throne.” So glorious is the light of the -great, white throne, and the face, and the -raiment of Him that sat upon it, that to angelic -vision it is nestled in the center of a perfectly -rounded bow of brilliant hue.</p> - -<p>The rainbow can never be destroyed, for the<a href="#Page_11"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 11" id="Page_11"></span></a> -light of Christ can never fade. Ever about the -throne of God, in perfect circle, shall gleam the -steady, colored token of God’s faithfulness -through all time and all eternity. The multitude -of white-robed ones that worship before the -throne are those who have come out “of great -tribulation,” they are those who have “overcome -through the blood of the Lamb,” therefore it is -fitting that the one choicest treasure saved from -the natural world in which they fought their -battles, and won their victories, should be the -rainbow, the richly colored symbol of God’s -faithfulness and mercy. What emotions thrill -our souls in this world when we look upon the -rainbow! What memories shall sweep through -our souls when we behold the rainbow that is -ever round about the great white throne of -God!</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_12"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 12" id="Page_12"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="II">II<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Gathering Sunsets</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">The</span> sunset is the sheaf of the day’s activities, -wherein are bound all the roses and poppies and -fruits and grains of the passing hours, for the -experiences of life are constantly coming to full -harvest. Weary with toil and worn with watching, -we do not see the riches of to-day; or, -stirred by some new ambition, our eyes become -so fixed upon the future, that to-day’s golden -grain is trampled under foot and lost. Instead -of facing the morrow’s morn, rich with garnered -treasures, we greet it with empty hands. We are -not householders seeking strong-walled dwellings -and broad, extending acres, but are careless, -nomadic folk, wandering aimlessly from day to -day, as gypsies wander from town to town. -Having all things within our grasp, we possess -nothing. When touched by the hand of Death, -and taken out of life, the world is no more -disturbed than by the bursting of a bubble on -the ocean wave.</p> - -<p>Sunsets are sheaves, and the brilliancy of their -coloring is God’s way of calling our attention -to their value. The waving of so many golden<a href="#Page_13"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 13" id="Page_13"></span></a> -and scarlet banners, by a myriad of unseen -hands, should awaken the most careless soul to -the consciousness that something mighty is -transpiring. Such banners and pageantry passing -through our streets would awaken the entire -city to wonderment and concern. For what king -are the banners waving? For what worthy cause -are all these ensigns thrown upon the wind? -What victory is celebrated here? Yet the sunsets -pass unheeded, and the golden sheaf of -another day is trampled under careless feet, and -left to mildew and decay.</p> - -<p>The art of gathering sunsets, the grasping of -each day’s experiences with firm and constant -hold, is one to covet. Days are not something to -“pass through.” Each day is like unto an acre -of land, through which one may hurry, as in a -train, without thought of right or ownership; or -unto an acre of land which he holds in perpetual -ownership, adding that much to his estate, and -increasing his income through all the days that -follow. Rather, it is a sheaf of grain, supplying -food and affording strength for an ever-increasing -work which he may throw away, or keep for -future use. Sunset time is harvest time, and the -evening hour is the one in which to fill full the -granaries and treasure chests for days unborn. -Sunsets should be bound with the golden cords -of memory and kept forever.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_14"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 14" id="Page_14"></span></a></p> - -<p>The pathway of life grows brightest for those -who have wasted fewest of their yesterdays. -Hours well spent and safely garnered never lose -the brightness of their sunshine. It always -glows in the sparkle of the eye, in the brightness -of a winning smile, in the warm atmosphere of -helpfulness with which they are surrounded. -Hours spent in sin and dissipation have no luster -to cast upon the afterdays, but goodness is -always luminous. Hours of right-living may be -likened to blazing suns that never cease to glow. -The ability to retain their brightness means an -ever-increasing splendor of life. It is this that -the inspired writer must have had in mind when -he wrote that the pathway of the just is as a -shining light, that shineth more and more unto -the perfect day.</p> - -<p>The secret of perfection along any line of -endeavor is the gathering in and retaining the -good, at the same time sorting out and permanently -eliminating that which is bad. It is a -work of patience and progression. It requires -the fruitage of many days, the garnered glories -of many sunsets, to endow one with the riches of -genius; and not one single day should be lost. -The lapidist, whose magic touch changes pebbles -into glittering jewels to adorn the neck of -beauty; the sculptor, whose mallet-stroke is so -accurate that rough, ill-shapen stones become<a href="#Page_15"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 15" id="Page_15"></span></a> -forms of grace to inspire the generations; the -artist, whose brush quickens the common dust -and clay into marvelous paintings of unfading -color and undying sentiment; the botanist, -whose carefulness transforms barren waysides -into gardens, and the desert places into banqueting -halls; the metallurgist, whose powerful hand -takes the knotted lumps of ore and fashions -them into the bronze doors of a great cathedral—all -these represent that priceless frugality that -will not permit a sunset to escape. Their first -crude efforts were sheaves of rich experiences, -which they garnered and stored away in the -treasure chests of memory. They had the bright -light of their first sunsets to add to the morning -light of their second endeavors. They continued -to store the brightness of the passing experiences. -Day by day the light grew brighter, -until at last there came the perfect day, when -the whole world stood amazed at the perfection -of their handiwork. The loss of one sunset -would have faded the light and dimmed the -glory of their final achievement. All perfect art -is but gathered sunsets.</p> - -<p>This law holds in the matter of spiritual perfection. -God does much for us at conversion, -when, through faith in him, we are changed by -his grace into new men and new women. It is -like a lost planet finding its central sun, and resuming<a href="#Page_16"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 16" id="Page_16"></span></a> -its accustomed place, and finding light, -and warmth, and life, and joy again. Wonderful -indeed is the power of God as manifested in the -conversion of any individual, but conversion is -not perfection. Perfection is something that the -inspired writer urges us “to go unto.” “And -beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith -virtue; and to virtue knowledge; and to knowledge -temperance; and to temperance patience; -and to patience godliness; and to godliness -brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness -charity.”</p> - -<p>Do not permit the colors of triumph to fade -from your first day’s sky. Hold on to that sunset. -Each day will furnish its added beam of -light. Faith, hope, and love, and all the Christian -graces will become more beautiful for you, -to you, and in you. The pathway will become -brighter and brighter. Life will have fewer -shadows because the light falls upon you from -so many angles and becomes more perfectly diffused. -To-morrow can have no hindering uncertainties, -for the light of the past experiences -illumines the future. There is light for every -darkened corner, and one may rejoice that all -things are working together for good, because we -do love God. Gathered sunsets make life’s trail -ablaze with light.</p> - -<p>Let no to-day become yesterday, except in the<a href="#Page_17"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 17" id="Page_17"></span></a> -calendar, as we reckon time. Each day must -become part of us as we live in an ever-present -now. The same alphabet we learned in childhood -is ours to-day. Because we did not forget -it with the setting of the sun, it served us to-day -as we spell out, in polysyllables, a newly discovered -truth. The alphabet did not fade with -the death of the day we learned it, so that it is -now part of our lives. As we cannot think apart -from the words we learned long ago; and as we -cannot calculate, save as we use the first-learned -characters from one to ten; so, in the developing -of the soul, we must not lose one single hour of -prayer or inspiration of a noble purpose.</p> - -<p>Both building and growing are alike in this—they -are processes of “adding to.” Brick added -to brick and timber added to timber means a -stately building. Cell added to cell means -growth of body and increase in stature. But -handling brick is not enough, they must be -placed with a purpose and kept firmly fixed in -the place desired. The brick of yesterday must -be where it can have added to it the brick of -to-day. Physical growth depends upon the keeping -the cells of yesterday for a foundation upon -which to build the cells of to-day. Christian -living is similar. We build a character and grow -a soul but the process is the same, with both -character and soul. We gain by adding to.<a href="#Page_18"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 18" id="Page_18"></span></a> -Therefore we must not permit any of our sunsets -to fade away. All that we have gained through -prayer and Christian service must be held to -brighten each new morn. The spiritual victory -over temptation, the answer to our intercessory -prayers, the moment of spiritual illumination as -we read the Bible, all these are priceless experiences -upon which to add the newer conquests -of to-day. We must not permit the disease of -sin to sap our vitality and destroy the growth -of yesterday. We must guard our spiritual -health that we may grow. This is what Christ -meant when he said: “Men ought always to -pray.” The culture of the soul is an eternal -process. Days must not pass; they must remain -as part of our own selves.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_19"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 19" id="Page_19"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="III">III<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Beyond the Curtained Clouds</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">One</span> of the rarest treasures of the May time -is the richness and purity of the sky. The winter -wraps the heavens in robes of somber hue as -though in mourning for the summer dead; but -at the coming of the first white cloud, and sound -of first lark’s song, the sky seems to melt in -tenderness, and assume the softest, richest hue -of blue. As far as the eye can reach there is -nothing but blue—soft, rich, warm, tender, -melting, soul-entrancing blue. Blue, as clear as -an unshadowed midland lake. Blue as a translucent -sapphire without a flaw to disturb its -gleaming surface. A great arch of caressing -tenderness through which the white-flecked -clouds ride in state, as they sail majestically -from one port of mystery to another port of -mystery. Among the richest treasures of the -spring must be mentioned the deepening of the -blue and the hanging of the snow-white curtains -of the clouds.</p> - -<p>But life’s horizon is ever draped with rich -folds of white and blue, that hang like silken -curtains, to hide, with tantalizing secrecy, the<a href="#Page_20"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 20" id="Page_20"></span></a> -mysteries that lie beyond. Day by day the -curtains hide their treasure-chests of mystery, -tempting us to strike tents and journey toward -them. With the eagerness with which little children -watch the unwrapping of a Christmas -package we watch the moving of these clouds, -trusting that each new shifting of the curtains -will make the coveted revelation, but as we -journey on they still evade us.</p> - -<p>Conservative people, ones who never startle -themselves or their friends by doing anything -new, not that they are averse to doing anything -new but simply because they are not mentally -capable of entertaining new ideas, say that the -mysteries that lie behind the curtained clouds -are childish fancies and youth’s illusions; and -that energy expended in reaching the buried -treasure at the rainbow’s end were as fruitful an -enterprise. Those of us who have endeavored to -solve these mysteries know better, for we have -found that the curtained clouds that hide, are -the ones that, like banners, guide us to the -things we really need.</p> - -<p>Man must not be unmindful of the ministry of -mystery. Over against everything enigmatic -God has given man an insatiable desire to find -out the hidden meaning. Yielding to that -divinely implanted impulse develops powers -that otherwise would atrophy. Behold the<a href="#Page_21"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 21" id="Page_21"></span></a> -benefits of these endeavors as they lifted the -human race out of stagnation and taught it the -way of progress. Tented in the low swamplands, -eating roots and bark, man saw these -curtains that suggested to his hunger-pinched -body the thought of a banqueting-hall where -he might feed. His quest never brought him to -the ladened tables of his desire, but as he -journeyed he found grain and fruits and nuts -and berries, substantial food for a full twelvemonth. -Dwelling amid the sick and dying, man -saw the moving of the curtains that God hangs -along our sky-line, and felt that, somewhere, -beyond their folds, must exist a spring, whose -living waters would not only heal the sick but -give the drinker perpetual youth. The spring -was never found, but as man journeyed westward -in the quest he found a land whose liberties -and institutions crowd a century of blessings -into every decade. Toiling with small recompense, -like some dull beast of burden, man saw -the clouds that suggested a palace of ease and -luxury. He failed to find the palace of his -dreams, but on the way he discovered labor-saving -machinery that has made his labor a -delight, and given to every laborer a home surpassing -in comforts the baron’s stately castle.</p> - -<p>Because of the ministry of mystery he has -been able to discover the depth and values of his<a href="#Page_22"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 22" id="Page_22"></span></a> -own soul. In his effort to reach the curtained -clouds man has had to rally his forces, and, to -meet arising exigencies, he has been compelled -to draw upon the resources of his nature, until -he startled himself with his newly discovered -possibilities and powers. He trained his body to -wrestle against physical odds; he trained his -mind to master the handicaps of ignorance; he -found the glittering sword of courage with which -to destroy defeating fear; he learned the value -of faith and hope with which to enrich the soul -when disaster would impoverish. Without the -effort aroused by the cloudy curtains of mystery, -he could not have found himself, and perfected -his work of invention, art and letters.</p> - -<p>The cloud curtains are also the temple curtains -beyond which men are ever seeking God. -As the pillared cloud led Israel victoriously -through troubled waters and desert sands, so the -mysteries of life and death, and the natural -world in which we live, have led the human -mind to religious contemplation. Man found -himself entangled in the maze of sin, helplessly -confused amid the ways that wound about, and -crossed, and led to still more hopeless entanglements. -Despair pointed to the narrow, tangled -ways and said, “There is nothing better.” Looking -upward, the distant clouds spoke of a larger -world and greater freedom, and beckoned man<a href="#Page_23"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 23" id="Page_23"></span></a> -to try again. By faith he was saved. To a -thoughtful, reverent man, all nature reveals and -conceals the One who brought it into existence. -An awakened soul will never be satisfied until he -finds God. He longs to see the Hand that parts -the curtains and hurls the lightnings. He yearns -to see the Face whose smile fills the sky with -sunlight, and transfigures the cloudy curtains, -until they become the portals of the heavenly -temple. While mystery is not the mother of -religion, it is, and ever has been, an important -part of the Christian faith. “It is the glory of -God to conceal a thing,” says King Solomon. -He might have added, “It is the glory of man to -search until he find it.”</p> - -<p>It was from behind the curtained clouds that -God spoke, introducing Jesus as the world’s -Redeemer, saying, “This is my beloved Son, -hear ye him.” It was an overhanging canopy of -cloud that curtained the disciples on the Mount -of Transfiguration, and it was in this curtained -tabernacle that they beheld the glory of their -Lord. To hide the shame of those who crucified -His Son, God hung a curtain of cloud about the -sun, enveloping Calvary in the shades of night. -It was a curtain of cloud that hid the ascending -Lord from the sight of the wondering, astonished, -fear-filled disciples. It was from amid -their soft drapery that the angels spoke of his<a href="#Page_24"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 24" id="Page_24"></span></a> -coming again, and it is upon the clouds that the -Son of man shall come in his glory to judge the -nations. From the glory of the Patmos vision, -John exclaimed, “Behold he cometh with -clouds; and every eye shall see him!” To the -very end Christ is surrounded with the curtained -clouds of mystery. “And I looked, and behold -a white cloud, and upon the cloud One sat like -unto the Son of man, having on his head a golden -crown, and in his hand a sharp sickle. And he -that sat on the cloud thrust in his sickle on the -earth, and the earth was reaped.”</p> - -<p>Mystery has a large part in the Christian -faith, not to discourage, but to encourage the -prayerful, aspiring souls of men. The drapery of -cloud hangs all about, not to defeat, but to -challenge. It is no illusion like a great desert -distance filled with the blue of emptiness, that -strews the sands with the bones of those whom -it deceives, but is as real as the curtains of the -ancient tabernacle that held the symbol of Jehovah’s -presence. Life’s mysteries are often -most tantalizing; its problems artfully made -difficult of solution; but always within their -depths is God.</p> - -<p>To-day, for our development, it is the glory -of God to conceal a matter, but it is the promise -that some day we shall see, not through the mists -darkly, but face to face with God. Some day we<a href="#Page_25"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 25" id="Page_25"></span></a> -shall pass beyond the cloudy portals, and the -vision of God and our own immortality shall lie -before our enraptured vision. The puzzle of life -shall there find perfect solution. The equation -in which life is now the unknown quantity shall -find its answer. In that cloudless land we shall -know even as we are known. The shadows of -death are the last shadow the soul of the -righteous shall ever see. Until that glad day -comes, let us fit ourselves, through prayer and -goodness, to receive such revelations of the -mystery of godliness as God may care to reveal -as he parts the curtains of our life’s horizon, -knowing that we journey to a perfect, unclouded -day.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_26"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 26" id="Page_26"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IV">IV<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Tilling the Sky</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">Man</span>, that must till the soil for the building -of his body, must also till the sky for the growing -of his soul. This was the thought of a little -woman among the Ozarks, who had given a long -and beautiful life in training her people of the -hills. It was Commencement Day in the college -she had founded. Gathered about her were the -young men and young women from the humble -homes of those rugged hills. They were now -leaving her sheltering care to “commence” life. -She was such a tiny bit of woman, but through -the lens of tears in those students’ eyes, she was -greater and more stately than any queen. Her -eyes gleamed with a love-lighted moisture, her -lips trembled with great emotions as she rose to -offer her last words of counsel. She knew that -very soon they would be beyond the reach of her -voice, and her desire was to write just one more -message upon the pages of their memories, a -message that should never be erased. Breathlessly -we awaited her words, which were these: -“My children, whatever you do, or wherever -you go, this one task I place before you. Continue<a href="#Page_27"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 27" id="Page_27"></span></a> -your study of astronomy, for there is -nothing that so uplifts and widens one’s life as a -study of the sky.”</p> - -<p>These were not the words of a mere dreamer, -but of a very practical woman, and were words -of wisdom uttered to young men and young -women who were practical students, yearning to -make their lives count. These students were -trained observers who would travel that they -might see things as they are; they were scholars -who would study in order to make discoveries. -They were to enter the strain and struggle of -competition. They were to match their brawn -and brain against honest rivalry and unscrupulous -dishonesty. They were not entering paradise, -yet, amid it all, the one who yearned most -for their unmeasured success and honor, urged -them to cast their plowshare deep into the wide -expanse of overarching blue, whose owner is God, -but whose harvests belong to the reaper.</p> - -<p>The little woman was very practical, for a -man must not permit the narrowing influences of -earthly endeavor to cramp and destroy the soul. -This is the tendency of most of our daily duties, -even those of the most fascinating and absorbing -scientific character. A man may follow the footsteps -of Luther Burbank and devote his life to -the study of plants, and through his magic touch, -may bring beauty of form and richness of flavor<a href="#Page_28"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 28" id="Page_28"></span></a> -to bud and blossom, vegetable and fruit, and yet -the very fascination of the work may bind him -into a narrow world of just buds and blossoms, -vegetables and fruits. He may, like Edison or -Steinmetz, choose the fairyland of electricity; -or, like Madame Curé, enter the enchanted realm -of radio-activity; or, like Morse and Bell and -Davenport, become wizards in the world of -invention, and find a joy that is as perilous as it -is unutterable. Any realm of nature or invention, -absorbs and fascinates as clover blossoms -claim the bee. He who studies will find that a -lifetime is too short to fathom the unmeasured -depths of an atom or explore the mysteries of one -drop of dew.</p> - -<p>But the very fascination of these things is -their peril, for the tendency of any line of endeavor -is to narrow and to restrict one’s life. -One need not yield to this tendency, but the -chances are that he will. Darwin reports spending -several delightful years studying fish-worms, -but while engaged in this absorbing task he lost -all taste for music. Ericsson had a similar experience. -Planning, with steel armor, to remake -the navies of the world, he refused his soul all -sound of blended tones, endeavoring to feed his -whole nature on armor plate. It was not until -Ole Bull, against Ericsson’s desire, entered his -factory, and began playing his violin, that the<a href="#Page_29"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 29" id="Page_29"></span></a> -great inventor became a weeping, willing captive, -kneeling at the shrine of music, tearfully -confessing that he had then found that which he -had lost, and for which his soul had been -craving. When a man, through the microscope, -begins a life study of the infinitesimal, he is apt -to get his own ego into the field of vision and -magnify himself. On the other hand, considering -only his own achievements in art or architecture, -one is apt to exaggerate his own importance -saying, “Is not this great Babylon, which I -have builded?” However, when he begins to -study the stars and comprehend something of -the vastness of the plan upon which God has -made the heaven and the earth, he will see his -own littleness and exclaim with the psalmist, -“When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy -fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast -ordained; what is man?”</p> - -<p>No earth-made ceiling is high enough for a -growing brain. Each individual must have a -God-made sky in which to lift his head and think -the thoughts of the Almighty. The earthly thing -upon which we set our affection and which we -think so essential may mean the wreck and ruin -of the soul. It is easy to neglect the brain, and -direct all one’s energies toward gaining earthly -possessions, not for the opportunities afforded -for benevolence, but that one may dress in style<a href="#Page_30"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 30" id="Page_30"></span></a> -and enjoy a social life, not knowing that it is far -better to be a great thinker than to be the best -dressed man in Paris. Poverty may be infinitely -better than wealth when the individual has a -familiar sky above his head and a good book in -his hand. How insignificant are earth’s greatest -obstacles compared with the immensities of -stellar space! Nothing can hinder the man who -is accustomed to measure the distances between -stars. With his eyes on the distant suns, poverty -becomes a mole-hill; poor health, but a breath -of mist; and success is within easy reach. It is -good for one to till the sky until he learns the -vastness of his Creator’s thoughts.</p> - -<p>One of the richest harvests garnered from the -sky is a revelation of the accuracy with which -God works. The stars do not dwell in a land of -“Hit and Miss,” and eclipses are not accidental -happenings. No ship cuts the waves of the sea -with half the accuracy as star and planet move -in their appointed courses. There are no swervings -nor deviations from the plan of God, so that -an astronomer can calculate the exact second -when a comet will return from its long journey -through unseen realms; as well as foretell the -conjunction of planets a thousand years from -now. God has appointed an exact second for the -rising of the sun, and another exact second for -its setting, and man knows what both of them<a href="#Page_31"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 31" id="Page_31"></span></a> -are a thousand years before the day arrives. -Then let us till the sky until we learn that He -who planned the high-arched blue, and marked -orbits for stars and planets, is also the Designer -of our own lives, and has set for us a divine -purpose somewhat like the vastness of the sky. -Yielding ourselves to God as the heavenly constellations -yield themselves to their controlling -powers, each one has a greater life to live, and a -more sublime destiny to attain, than his fondest -dreams. How foolish it is to till the soil for -money, and miss the very essence of life, by -failing to utilize the sky that yields such tender -ministries with so little effort!</p> - -<p>It is well to look upward and learn a lesson of -patience, for the open sky teaches that the plans -of God are not worked out in a day. The journey -from star-dust to harvest-ladened planet peopled -by a happy family of contented men, -requires many millions of years, yet, from the -beginning it was in the mind of God. He has -never altered his plan, but with divine accuracy -the work has passed from stage to stage of -development with perfect progression. With -such an example, we must learn patience and -not become discouraged when we cannot see the -end from the beginning. A child can make a -shelf full of mud pies in one summer’s afternoon, -and they will last no longer than the first rain.<a href="#Page_32"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 32" id="Page_32"></span></a> -Hasty work means wasted effort. Life that -endures must be planned of God, fulfilled with -astronomical accuracy, and most patiently -developed.</p> - -<p>How wonderful the brain that is molded after -something of the vastness of the open sky, and -how thrilling to walk and till the fields of -heavenly blue! We were meant for those -heights. It does not require a very great elevation -in the pure atmosphere of a Western State -to push back the horizon forty and fifty miles. -This planet is not the objective of life. It is -only the hilltop where God has placed us for a -little while that we may catch a vision as wide -as the universe and as high as his own White -Throne.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_33"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 33" id="Page_33"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="V">V<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Unquarried Statues</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">Michael Angelo</span>, with his statues of David -and Moses, proved that Phidias and Praxiteles -had not exhausted the marvelous possibilities of -the art of sculpture. Rodin, with his “Thinker,” -has shown, while Phidias and Praxiteles demonstrated -the possibility of giving immortality to -the unsurpassed beauty of Grecian form, and -while Michael Angelo revealed the power of -expressing grace, as in David, and commanding -leadership, as in Moses, that the achievements -of these two schools of art were the Pillars of -Hercules, not marking the limit of art, but the -open gateway to uncharted seas and undiscovered -realms in the art of reshaping marble. -There is not a lofty sentiment of the soul, a -struggling aspiration toward goodness, or form -of idealism that cannot be made to live in -marble, and exert undying influence. There is -more than “an angel in the block of marble.” -There are all the hopes and fears, joys and -sorrows, laughter and tears, longings and aspirations, -desires and despairs; there is all that is -manly, noble, and heroic, lying in any block of<a href="#Page_34"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 34" id="Page_34"></span></a> -marble awaiting the coming of the liberating -chisel. What inspiration to the young artist of -to-day, and what joy to all lovers of the beautiful! -The depths of earth are stored with a -wealth of unquarried statues.</p> - -<p>The progress of civilization is ofttimes -hindered because youth, in thinking of statues, -consider the pedestals upon which they rest -rather than the depth from which they were -quarried. They very often do not care to begin -life at the right place. Because they covet -praise, and enjoy the warm, congenial atmosphere -of appreciation, they shun the depths, -hours of loneliness, the unrequited toil of -preparation, and the laborious efforts of beginning. -Modeling clay is an important part of -the achievement; but getting the proper marble -is one of the first essentials.</p> - -<p>The experience of Michael Angelo is common -to all men of real achievement: he found that -the market place does not offer marble blocks of -sufficient size for him to work out his divine -conception. Hucksters and makers of money in -the market place seldom understand ambitious -youth that asks for larger blocks than they are -capable of handling. Their idea of a great -thought is an ornament for the mantelpiece. But -men of achievement will not be daunted. Locking -his studio, Angelo went to superintend the<a href="#Page_35"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 35" id="Page_35"></span></a> -breaking of blocks in the mountain of Carrara, -and when the sluggish-minded people of the -mountains refused to do his bidding, he opened -new quarries in Seravez. Before he could carve -his statue he knew that he must quarry a block -of marble sufficiently large. He knew also that -the block of marble could be had for the digging. -He found what he needed but did not exhaust -the treasury. The world still has the material, -richer than that which made Angelo and Rodin -famous, awaiting the youth of ambition to -undertake great things, and the willingness, at -any cost, to superintend the breaking of the -marble blocks from the buried storehouses.</p> - -<p>The pleasure of nature is to store her raw -material in seemingly inaccessible strongholds. -She does not willingly yield them to men lacking -vision and great conceptions. If they were of -easy access, common men would crush them to -make roads for donkeys to tramp over. Nature’s -treasures are too valuable for ignorance to -destroy, so she locks them in secret depths or -inaccessible heights, awaiting the coming of the -man of genius. If only a man yields himself to -the divine leadings, and catches a vision of a -statue like Moses, or a façade for the Church -of San Lorenzo, or for a mausoleum for the -Medici, no mountainside is too steep to chisel -a roadway through the jagged rocks, no morass<a href="#Page_36"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 36" id="Page_36"></span></a> -so yielding but that a solid highway may be -erected, no water so troubled but that boats may -safely transport the precious marble. He will -not depend upon hirelings nor lean upon borrowed -strength. The dream of beauty must be -wrought in marble, the unquarried statue must -be lifted from obscurity and made to live in -some public place, therefore he will personally -attend to the breaking of the blocks.</p> - -<p>It is not an easy matter to live out a divine -idea and make it a thing tangible and real for a -critical world to examine and criticize and afterwards -love and venerate. Sluggards and lovers -of ease cannot do it. To them an unquarried -statue is only a stone. For centuries no one has -given it any attention; why should they? They -would rather have something to eat and drink. -A cushioned chair is far more comfortable to sit -on, and a potato is much more substantial food. -What they want is something to eat, and a place -in which to lounge, and because they do not see -the value of great ideas they can never be forgotten -when dead, for they were never known -while living.</p> - -<p>He lives who forgets to live and concentrates -all his powers in bringing to light the vision of -his beauty-loving soul. It may be the beauty of -art or the beauty of worthy living; it may be -the beauty of perfect workmanship in shop or<a href="#Page_37"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 37" id="Page_37"></span></a> -factory, or the beauty of a wholesome influence -flowing from noble character; it may be loveliness -of sympathetic serving, or the beauty of -aggressive battle for righteousness; it may take -any one of many forms of exalted thinking and -endeavor, yet its realization comes only when -one eats, and drinks, and bends every energy, -not for the sake of living, but for the realization -of that which is more than living.</p> - -<p>How lamentable for a human life to end and -find at the final judgment that all its days were -of less value to the world than that of a coral -polyp! How wonderful for one to be made out -of dust, and after a while to crumble back into -dust, and yet, refusing to grovel in the dust, -leave the world richer, and better, and more -beautiful, so that people of another age will -breathe his name in reverence as they behold -that which he hath wrought. Professor Finsen, -the inventor of the “light cure,” was an invalid -for many years, yet he labored like a slave, in -the severest self-denial, to bring his invention, -without compensation, to the service of the -world’s sick and suffering. He had but one dread -and that was the regret of dying, and leaving his -little five-year-old boy without any memory of -his father. He desired to live long enough to -impress his face and life upon the memory of -his son, that, in the after years, the growing<a href="#Page_38"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 38" id="Page_38"></span></a> -man would never forget the one who toiled so -earnestly for him. He did not want to be forgotten. -How little did he dream of the immortality -that was his! He found an unquarried -statue in the sunbeam where others had overlooked -it. Through ceaseless toil he brought it -within the vision of the world and gained a name -that countless ages will not forget.</p> - -<p>How wonderful to be the son of such a man! -And though the image of the father’s face be -blotted from the memory, the statue that he -carved will help and heal the generations. How -wonderful to be the son of such a man, but how -much more wonderful it is to be the man himself! -To fight with optimistic heart against the -ravages of disease, to overcome the natural -yearnings of a father’s heart, to endure the most -slavish toil without thought or hope of compensation, -to be a sick man fighting for others -who were sick; a dying man making battle -against disease that others may not taste of -death!</p> - -<p>This is the joy unspeakable, to know that life -is not in vain, but everlastingly worth while. -The visions shall not fade as summer clouds at -twilight time, but shall live in that which is as -imperishable as marble. Each one can say with -deep resolve: “Men shall behold the beauty of -my soul by beholding the beauty of my daily<a href="#Page_39"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 39" id="Page_39"></span></a> -life. Since words are blossoms, I shall, with -gracious speech, show my friends how choice a -garden I have planted in my heart. Since every -blossom bears a seed I shall take pleasure in -planting them within the hearts of others, that -the beauty of my life may live in them. Out of -the marble block that it has been mine to break -from its hiding place, I shall carve the image I -have treasured so long within my heart.” To -do this is to find a joy unspeakable. Life is not -useless, but gloriously worth while. Eating, and -drinking, and toiling for that which is far more -than life, one can never die.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_40"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 40" id="Page_40"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VI">VI<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Ages to Come</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">No</span> matter how earnestly we may love our -life-calling, and rejoice in our chosen field of -activity, there are hours when the easiest task -becomes irksome and its daily repetition seems -unbearable. However healthy the soul and -robust the moral nature, a constant onslaught of -sorrow may wound like a poisoned dart, filling -the soul with painful forebodings. Beholding the -transitoriness of life, and the apparent frailty -and uncertainty of those things upon which we -place our heaviest dependence, we become depressed, -and feel that nothing is permanent and -that life’s products are but empty shadows. -These are common experiences, and their frequent -repetition does not lessen their depressive -power. Coming upon us to-day they are just as -hurtful as when they challenged us for the first -time.</p> - -<p>That we may overcome these disagreeable -tendencies, and live a life victorious, Paul revealed -the secret of his own achievements. To -him work never became drudgery, sorrow never -festered or left a feverish wound, while even the<a href="#Page_41"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 41" id="Page_41"></span></a> -most commonplace incident was of the deepest -significance because he had learned to acquire -and maintain a deep perspective that placed -each moment of time in the white light of -eternity. He believed that we are not created -for the hour but for the centuries, and that we -must work not so much for the present hour as -for the years that are yet to be. The one purpose -of every word and deed, to Paul, was to “show the -ages to come the exceeding riches of God’s grace.”</p> - -<p>As the prolific and luxuriant vegetation of the -carboniferous age bordered the lakes with ferns, -the rivers with reeds, and the hillsides and -valleys with gigantic trees of grotesque form, -that, in the ages to come, man might have the -exhaustless coalbeds to protect him from the -cold; as the coral polyps, buried beneath the -waves, love and labor and die, generation after -generation, until a coral island lifts its head to -receive the kisses of the passing waves and extend -the arms of a protecting harbor, that, in -the ages to come, the storm-tossed mariners may -find safe shelter against the stormy wind and -wave; so you and I are to love, and labor, and -die, not for ourselves, but that the ages to come, -through our goodness and fidelity, may behold -the riches of God’s grace.</p> - -<p>This does not mean that we are to so bury -the present in the future that our lives shall<a href="#Page_42"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 42" id="Page_42"></span></a> -consist of nothing save vague dreams and idle -contemplations. It means the opposite. We are -to magnify the present and give it increasing -value by crowding it with an eternal significance. -We are not to drop to-day into the -silent ocean of the future and see it fade from -sight, but into to-day we are to crowd to-morrow -and all the other to-morrows that shall -follow. Instead of losing the drop of water in -Niagara we are to crowd all the dash and splendor -and power of Niagara into the single drop of -water; instead of losing the dew in the ocean, we -crowd the ocean into the dewdrop; instead of -burying the present into the future, we gather all -eternity and crowd it into a single lifetime, so -that every second of time becomes as precious as -a thousand years of eternity, and the smallest -task we have to perform becomes as sacred as -the songs of the angels.</p> - -<p>When one possesses this conception of life -that crowds a vast eternity within the compass -of a single individual life, no toil can ever become -drudgery. Every deed has divine significance. -The most ordinary task will be performed carefully, -knowing that it must stand the scrutiny -and criticisms of the passing centuries. We -labor then with the various elements of life, as -the artists of Venice toil with their priceless -mosaics, willing to spend a lifetime of painstaking<a href="#Page_43"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 43" id="Page_43"></span></a> -endeavor in forming a single feature of a -saint, knowing that long after they themselves -have ceased to toil the wisdom of untold centuries -shall review their efforts to either praise or -blame. Hitherto we have despised the commonplace -things that fell to our hands, while we -busied ourselves searching for some great thing -worthy of our effort, with the result that nothing -has been accomplished; now we find, that that -only is truly great which is commonplace. -Divine opportunities are everywhere. In the -low-browed man upon the street we see the -possibility of an ennobled and redeemed humanity. -In the waif, crying from hunger, we see -the center of world-wide and eternal destinies. -Words are winged messengers, so we learn to -study them with care, and speak them with the -precision with which a musician strikes his -chords. Divine destinies are depending upon the -perfection with which we toil, adding a charm to -every endeavor that never fades with weariness. -There can be no drudgery to him who has a -perspective eternity long.</p> - -<p>This conception of life which Paul gives us -will carry us unharmed through all the misfortunes -of life. It is impossible for us to escape -sorrow. By rigid economy we may save our -money only to have it stolen by a deceitful -friend; we may build a home, only to find it<a href="#Page_44"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 44" id="Page_44"></span></a> -purchased and occupied by another; loved ones, -more precious than our own lives, have been -lured from our side by the hand of death. These -hours are naturally dark and of tortuous length, -and if it were not for the fact that we have -learned to think in terms of eternity, we would -die of a broken heart. But we do not die; we -pass through them with triumphant tread. The -soul sobs but does not bleed; the heart hurts but -does not break. We are not living for this world -alone; our horizon has been widened because we -have been lifted to a higher level; we can now -see two worlds; our faith sweeps onward as far -as God can think. The earthly home for which -we planned and toiled has passed into the hands -of another, but we rejoice in the knowledge that -we have a home, not made with toiling, blistered -hands of earth, but one eternal in the heavens. -Our loved ones no longer greet us at the table or -occupy their accustomed places in the family -circle, but we have not lost them forever. They -have simply passed from time into eternity, and -because we also are the children of eternity, they -are still our own, and we shall see them once -again. Thank God for the transforming power -that comes into every human life when, by -divine aid, one crowds eternal significance into -his days, and works, not for himself, but for “the -ages to come.”</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_45"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 45" id="Page_45"></span></a></p> - -<p>Paul’s view of life enables us to find perfect -satisfaction in working with the frailties of time -in building that which is immortal in character -and service. Possessed with such a purpose, the -spider’s web becomes a cable, dust becomes -slabs of marble, and seconds becomes decades. -There is nothing more fragile than a word, -spoken in stammering weakness, but with a -trembling desire to be of service, yet out of one -word fitly spoken may be created an influence -that sweeps heaven and earth. A faltering word -of Christian testimony was spoken by a godly -man made weak by an unconquerable embarrassment, -but his utterance proved mighty. -Lodging in the heart of Charles Spurgeon, it -started him on his wonderful career that is yet -shaking all Christendom. The smile of the face -is far more delicate than the frailest blossom that -opens its soft petals in obedience to the caressing -influence of the sun, for its existence is but for -the fraction of a second; yet one kindly, love-illumined -look has been the force that has lifted -multitudes of mortals out of despondency and -uselessness, and made them the creators of -mighty moral and religious forces. It was a -smile that saved John G. Wooley for the cause -of temperance. A smile, and a word, and the -gift of a handkerchief were all that Frances E. -Willard used to redeem one of the most notorious<a href="#Page_46"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 46" id="Page_46"></span></a> -characters of Chicago, and make her one of -God’s ministers of light among the fallen.</p> - -<p>When one learns to live with the light of -eternity flooding his pathway there is not an -event in life so small and insignificant that he -cannot employ it to create, and afterward use it, -to sustain eternal influences. There is joy now -in living for Christ, but let us live, not for that -joy alone, but that, in the ages to come, we may -show the exceeding riches of God’s grace. Let -them, through us, behold what the grace of God -can do to save, to keep, to empower, and to -make immortal such sin-smitten ones as we -have been. This is the secret for making toil -pleasant, sorrows helpless, and the humblest -effort an enterprise of such character as crowds -earth with richer meaning, and fills the heavens -with new-found joys. Show them that the -greatest of all known forces is a Christ-filled -life.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_47"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 47" id="Page_47"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VII">VII<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Unlocked Door of Truth</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">History</span> has proven that the power of the -“All Highest” War Lord is as weak as a baby’s -arm compared with the power of the humblest -individual who has entered into and taken -possession of some great truth. A thousand -lords and ladies were gathered within the -Babylonian palace which was ablaze with light -and filled with music. All hail to King Belshazzar! -His praises were upon every lip. All honor -to the royal family that had lifted the hanging -gardens above the low-lying plains, who had -swung gates of bronze and planned the mightiest -city in the world. Every lip praised and every -heart feared the power of the daring king. But -when the finger of God wrote a message of fire -upon the palace walls it was no longer Belshazzar -who was ruler. The fate of king and lord and -ladies was in the hand of Daniel. He alone of -that great throng had seen and entered into the -truth of temperance and self-control. Such was -the sustaining power of that possessed truth -that when the man-made king trembled, and a -nation crumbled into oblivion, he alone stood<a href="#Page_48"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 48" id="Page_48"></span></a> -unmoved and triumphant amid the wreck and -chaos.</p> - -<p>Before the throne of ecclesiastical autocracy -the rulers of the nations bowed in weakness and -everlasting shame. The autocracy of superstition -is the most merciless and deadly known, but -when the power of Rome was at the zenith of -her unscrupulous reign, Martin Luther, a common -man with uncommon sense, discovered and -entered into the great truth that “the just shall -live by faith.” Entering into that truth, he -found a power before which the claims of the -Pope became insignificant, and by his boldness, -brought religious liberty to the people, thus -gaining universal love and immortality.</p> - -<p>Mary was Queen of England, and with that -overzeal of religious bigotry, was ruling with unquestioned -power and severity. Hugh Latimer -was only a humble preacher, one of the least of -the queen’s subjects, living among the poor, but -beside him, Queen Mary sinks into everlasting -contempt. The robes of fire wrapped his body -in their golden folds, hiding him forever from -the sight of man, but the world has not forgotten -him. His dust knows no burial place, but because -he lived in the sheltering tabernacle of a -great truth he will live forever in the hearts of -those who love religious tolerance, while the dust -of Mary crumbles in the gruesome vault at<a href="#Page_49"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 49" id="Page_49"></span></a> -Westminster Abbey, with no lip to sing her -praises to the passing generations. Royal or -ecclesiastical power is nothing compared with -the enduring authority of a common man who -has found, and entered into, and wholly and -completely lives a great eternal truth of God.</p> - -<p>Truth incarnate in human life is almighty, but -truth in the abstract is as helpless as is the dust -of the Egyptian highways, which witnessed the -world’s mightiest pageants, but which are unable -to tell the story of mighty armies, royal -cavalcades, and kingly processions that once -tramped upon them. Truth has always existed. -However conceited a religious leader may be, no -one ever dared to presume himself the creator -of a truth. Long before the world had settled -upon its foundations, and the constellations of -stars, like chandeliers, swayed and swung their -pendants of light, all truth beat and throbbed -within the heart of the Almighty. Throughout -the beauty of verdant slope, crested wave, and -starlit sky, these words of encouragement have -ever rung: “Ye shall know the truth, and the -truth shall make you free.” The truths of -civilization have been in existence since creation, -yet in every century heathenism has flourished. -The truth about human freedom has always -been, yet Rameses sat upon a throne and drove -the Hebrews to their task, beating their backs<a href="#Page_50"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 50" id="Page_50"></span></a> -with knotted thongs and murdering their children; -the barons lived in palatial palaces fed in -luxury, while serfs toiled for harvests which they -could never gather, and starving, dared not -plead for a morsel of the food their toil provided; -the Sultan of Turkey reveled in orgies, flagrant -and disgusting, while humble Armenians were -torn asunder, their bleeding bodies fed to swine, -their wives and children tortured beyond belief, -while no civilized nation dared lift its hand in -protest. Truth, in itself, is not omnipotent. To -be of value, truth must be entered into and -possessed.</p> - -<p>Every truth has a door. To ignorance the -door is barred and bolted. To thoughtlessness, -the door remains unseen. Only to the eye -trained with prayer, faith in God, and love for -man, is given the vision of these bright portals, -and the possession of the key by which he can -unlock the door and enter into and enjoy the -truth, which the world has long known by heart, -but which had never enveloped, sheltered, and -controlled their lives. If he has the courage to -use the key and open the door and enter in, he -shall not only feel the saving power of God, but -he shall leave an open way through which all -men may pass to greater power. If he refuses -to unlock the door, and, like the learned ones of -whom Christ spoke, carries away the key, entering<a href="#Page_51"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 51" id="Page_51"></span></a> -not in themselves and hindering those who -would enter, he becomes an exile, without home -through time and eternity.</p> - -<p>That we may more clearly comprehend this -truth let us consider a chapter of American -history. Hayne had finished his classic and convincing -speech. With gracious charm he had -proclaimed the doctrine of union without -liberty, a nation of free people, half slave. The -rapt attention and tribute of silent applause -from the audience told how critical the situation -had become. Opposed to him was Daniel -Webster, America’s favorite child of genius, -whose face was as classic as a Greek god’s, and -whose commanding bearing won battles like a -general. He was a scholar of the strong New -England type, searching for the key to unlock -the truth that the nation needed, and make it -of easy access to the people. He saw that there -could be no union without universal freedom. -Hour after hour he proclaimed the truth, making -the mightiest speech the nation had ever heard, -swaying his audience back to the realm of clear -thinking. Finally, with one sentence, “Union -and liberty, now and forever, one and inseparable,” -he revealed to an awakened nation that -he had found the key that would unlock the -door of truth that the hour needed. But in his -hour of triumph, dazzled by the possibility of<a href="#Page_52"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 52" id="Page_52"></span></a> -becoming President, he refused to use the key. -To gain the solid South he uttered his fateful -speech for compromise. The North held its -breath in expectancy while New England sobbed -like one bereft of his favorite child. He who had -the key refused to enter in himself and hindered -those who would have entered.</p> - -<p>But New England had another son of genius -who, on the eventful night that Webster, with -trembling fingers, tried, and failed, to pick up -the key that he had thrown away, left Faneuil -Hall with blazing, burning thoughts. He too had -found the way, but was unknown and untried. -Again he was in Faneuil Hall sitting beside -James Russell Lowell, listening to the mad -mouthings of men, who, for the money involved, -were endeavoring to rechristen Wrong and call -it Right. He had waited weary weeks, but now -he was unable to keep back his flaming indignation. -Rising, he began to speak. On the very -platform where Webster had fallen he began to -plead the right of human liberty. New England -was thrilled with hope. Here at last was a man -who not only saw the truth but was determined -to enter into it. With the confidence of a -prophet he used the key, unlocked the door and -showed a nation the way it ought to go.</p> - -<p>Truth must become incarnate in man and man -must be incarnate in truth. Every Christian<a href="#Page_53"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 53" id="Page_53"></span></a> -man will testify to this. In childhood you committed -scripture which had little meaning to -your childish mind. It was not until in the after -years when sorrow came, and grief blinded the -eye, and pain wounded the heart, that the clear, -sweet voice of memory began to repeat these -verses, and what had been meaningless in childhood -became great, wholesome, sheltering, -protecting truths, in which you found all the -consolations of God.</p> - -<p>It is a wonderful hour when the soul enters -into and takes possession of God’s great truth, -becomes the master of all its stored up power, -and begins to use it in the service of love. It is -a wonderful experience and need never be -delayed, for the door is easy to find. Years ago -earth was blessed by the coming of One who -worked hard at the carpenter trade, and in the -school of toil and prayer, found the way that -scholars had overlooked. Standing before kings -and earthly potentates he said: “I am the way, -the truth, and the life.” His spirit is the way -for men to live, the door through which they -pass into all truth, the life of fullest spiritual -development. Christ is the open way to every -truth. Through him men attain the proper -point of view, and, learning to obey the Father -as did he, begin to live the life triumphant.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_54"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 54" id="Page_54"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII">VIII<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Weaving Sunbeams</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">Nature</span> is always busy weaving sunbeams, -and not one of them, like a knotted thread, is -cast from her loom. The waves cast their crystal -spray upon the sands to waste away, but not so -with the sun as he lavishly casts his beams -broadcast o’er the earth. Not one of them goes -upon a fruitless errand, and not one of them fails -to reach its intended goal. It is not that the sun -is wise in directing its energy, but because the -earth is ready to utilize, with untiring fidelity, -the gift of sunlight.</p> - -<p>How abundantly the sunbeams come! The -arched sky is an upturned basket, out of which -God is pouring his wealth of sunlight upon a -thirsty, needy planet. These rays of light fall -everywhere, because they are needed everywhere. -Upon arctic snow and desert sand and -undiscovered ocean waves they fall as readily as -upon the forests of Brittany or the vineyards of -France. They place their gleaming coronets -upon the crystal brows of the Alps. They dance -and flash their jewels, as they hold carnival in<a href="#Page_55"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 55" id="Page_55"></span></a> -the Northern Lights. Even after the sun is set -they peer at us through the parted clouds and -leap at us from their hiding places in the moon. -They fall in the most inaccessible places, yet -none of them are ever wasted. As the parched -earth drinks raindrops, so the old world absorbs -sunbeams. Swifter and more powerful than the -leaping waters of a cataract are they poured -upon the earth—a Niagara, world-wide and sun-high, -with never-ceasing floods of light that -bathe each portion of the globe. They are not -piled in heaps; they do not swish and whirl, -cutting a gorge through solid rock, or form -a whirlpool to menace humanity, but the earth -absorbs them all, however rapidly they come, -and places them in her mysterious loom. Here, -in the depths, beyond our sight, the sunbeams -are woven into invisible cords that hold the -needles of all the compasses to the north that -no traveler need be lost in the forest, and no ship -perish in the sea. Here, in the depths, the sunbeams -are woven into mighty cables of electric -power that man picks up with the fingers of the -dynamo and compels to lift his burdens, pull -his trains, propel his ships, and serve him in a -thousand ways. Here, in the depths, is woven -that mysterious power that carries the wireless -message through the rocks of the mountains and -the channels of the sea, and wraps the earth in<a href="#Page_56"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 56" id="Page_56"></span></a> -a diaphanous garb that makes the wireless -telephone a possibility.</p> - -<p>The world we see is but woven sunbeams. The -forests of oak are the sunbeams of yesterday, -wrought into gnarled and knotted fingers to -grasp the sunbeams of to-day and wind them on -a myriad unseen shuttles. Soon they shall appear -woven in the texture of notched leaf and -carved chalice of the acorn’s cup. The sunbeams -falling upon the tangled branches of the hillside -vineyard, are woven into buds, and leaves, and -clinging tendrils, and afterward into the rich -cluster of luscious grapes. The sunbeams fall -upon the buried seed and are woven into an -emerald lever with which the clod is lifted, into -sturdy leaves that are chemical laboratories -where crude sap is changed into milk, into heads -of golden wheat with which to feed a thoughtless, -hungry world. Sunbeams are woven into -corn and oats, into apples and peaches, into nuts -and berries. Falling along the railroad grade, -they are woven into violets; falling in the -swamps, they are woven into buttercups; falling -in the thicket, they are woven into the silken -folds of the wild-rose petal.</p> - -<p>As nature weaves the sunbeam and not the -shadow so man ought to develop his power of -utilizing happiness and joy. The sunshine of life -ought not to be thrown away like confetti and<a href="#Page_57"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 57" id="Page_57"></span></a> -ribbon papers on a gala day. Thoughtlessly our -youths and maidens dance and sing in giddy, -senseless manner, throwing away sunbeams as -though their lives were only bits of colored glass -through which the light of joy and happiness -should pass. Having no looms with which to -weave their sunbeams into that which would -adorn their souls with garments of ever-growing -life, they soon become old and haggard, lifeless -and dead, a burned-out planet like the moon, -unable to appreciate the sunlight that never fails -to fall. Much of the difference between men -is due to the ability of one and the inability of -the other to make the passing joys of life become -a permanent, abiding element of his life.</p> - -<p>There is no life without sufficient sunlight to -weave a gracious personality. Wholesomeness -of character is not the result of partiality on -God’s part, neither is hideous irritability of disposition -occasioned by God’s neglect of one -of his children. The difference between wholesomeness -and unwholesomeness of character is -that of the right and wrong use of the blessings -which God bestows upon all alike. He who casts -his sunbeams away will find old age desert and -lifeless, while he who weaves them all into a -pleasing personality, will always experience the -joy of a more abundant life. A smile is softer -than a silken fiber and wears far longer. Its<a href="#Page_58"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 58" id="Page_58"></span></a> -colors never fade, nor pass out of style. Woven -into a robe of genuine cheerfulness the soul -possesses rich adornment. These are the individuals -whom children love, men seek to honor, and -all the world respects. A king’s robe is commonplace -compared with the attractive vesture of a -healthy, cheerful disposition which anyone may -weave out of sunbeams, with which God crowds -even the most secluded, humble lives.</p> - -<p>This occupation is also the secret of sound and -vigorous influence. All men possess the power -of influence, but even when one has the best -intentions he may wield a harmful, baleful influence -because of an irritable and complaining -disposition. A petulant temper and irascible -disposition are the thunder that curds much of -the milk of human kindness, and an application -of alum will not tend to sweeten the curd. With -a sharp tongue one may be driven to hard labor, -but the wounds he carries in his heart will prevent -him from performing a perfect task. Scolding -and fault-finding have driven multitudes into -iniquity. It is difficult to drive bees, but one can -lure them any distance with a field of blooming -clover. By forgetting to weave sunbeams into -wholesome character one not only loses the joy -of being cheerful but fails in one of the supreme -objectives of life—that of wielding intelligently -a helpful, healthy, and enduring influence.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_59"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 59" id="Page_59"></span></a></p> - -<p>The secret of achievement may also be -described as weaving sunbeams. In a victorious -life the blessings of God take permanent place -in the work of hand and brain. Such a life is a -loom which receives only that he may produce, -the quality of the production depending upon -the care and patience with which he works, indifference -producing mediocrity, carefulness -leading to perfection. What the world calls -genius is simply the mastery of the gracious art -of weaving sunbeams into polished sentences, -enduring thoughts, embroidered tapestry, living -poem, inspiring painting, and graceful statue. -The way out of mediocrity is to weave one’s -personal blessings into world-wide benefits.</p> - -<p>Here also is found the way to overcome life’s -obstacles. A frown never wins a battle. It was -a singing army that crossed the sea and helped -win the World War. Amid the dangers, hardships, -and privations our soldiers gathered sunbeams, -and with a cheerfulness never before -witnessed upon a field of battle did their full -part. Trenches, barbed-wire entanglement, -and treacherous pitfall are nothing to one who -weaves his sunbeams into song. Thus all difficulties -fade away and vanish.</p> - -<p>These statements are only another way of -saying that one should weave God into every -fiber of life. The sun is always emblematic of the<a href="#Page_60"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 60" id="Page_60"></span></a> -Father, and he who weaves sunbeams will know -and love God. This is no idle saying, nor a bit -of rhetoric, but a soul-saving truth. It is the -sun that banishes the shadows; it is God who -enables us to overcome our temptations, pain -and sorrow. The more we utilize his revelations -the brighter the pathway, until at last we shall -stand in his presence and have no more need of -the sun, for we have him. “They shall hunger -no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall -the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the -Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall -feed them, and shall lead them into living -fountains of waters: and God shall wipe all tears -from their eyes.” Weaving sunbeams in a world -of shadows, we prepare ourselves for the unshadowed -land where God is the everlasting -Light. There, without sin or suffering, we shall -know God.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_61"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 61" id="Page_61"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IX">IX<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Pathway of a Noble Purpose</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">As</span> the sleepless eye thirsts for the dawn, and -the troubled child hungers for the sound of its -mother’s voice, so each growing soul seeks a -coveted goal the attaining of which, to him, -means success. As boys, to be boys, must dream -their dreams of strife and conflict upon a battle’s -front, and girls, to be girls, must dream their -milder dreams of love, so coming maturity demands -of each aspiring soul that he linger long -upon the visions of strife that lead to success. -It is well to seek for great things, for each success -that enters the golden portals of our lives -brings many chariots filled with golden gifts. -Returning to his home, the Roman victor was -honored with a triumph in which, on golden -plate and velvet spread, the trophies and spoils -of conquest were displayed. In this way the -ambitious Roman youth learned that success is -always attended by a great procession of rich -rewards. The one who conquers feels more than -the soul-thrill of victory. Like Samson, he finds -the unexpected reward of a carcass filled with -honey awaiting his hungry lips.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_62"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 62" id="Page_62"></span></a></p> - -<p>While success is worthy of one’s best efforts, -and all men hunger for it, very few, indeed, have -ever reached that happy goal. They failed because -they refused to follow the pathway of a -noble purpose. They believed that success was -altogether a matter of outward form. Seeing -the conqueror riding in triumphant procession, -they thought that the applause arose, not because -he had conquered, but because he wore a -helmet and a shield. Hurrying to an emporium, -they too purchased helmets and shields and -strutted forth to win a world’s applause. Foolish -souls! The public eye is keen and penetrating -and always apprehends the truth. If the people -greet a king with shouts, it is not because they -see a gleaming crown, but because they recognize -a royal soul beneath the crown. If the -multitude cheer a warrior, it is not because he -bears a standard, but because, in courageous -conflict, he won a battle for the people. Spain -greeted the discoverer of America, not because -of the grain and fruit he brought, but because -he had braved the dangers of a dark unknown, -and blazed a pathway through untracked -wastes.</p> - -<p>History repeats the story of a weird Scythian -custom. When the head of a house died his -family would adorn his corpse in finest raiment, -place it in a chariot, and, amid shouts and<a href="#Page_63"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 63" id="Page_63"></span></a> -hosannas, draw it to the homes of former friends. -Coming to each dwelling place, the corpse would -be greeted with pomp and splendor. For the -final home-coming the steps would be carpeted -with silken shawl and choice embroidery, while -lighted chandeliers flashed welcome to the dead -and sunken eyes. Within the doorway the -crowned corpse was placed at the head of a -banqueting table at which his gay companions -sat and made merry, eating and drinking in his -honor. Thus many days were spent in honoring -the dead before the body was laid away in the -tomb. To us it was a most gruesome custom, but -each Scythian youth struggled to possess a home -of his own, that some day he might be carried as -a crowned corpse through the city streets, and -finally, be seated in honor at his own banqueting -board.</p> - -<p>This ancient custom was the outgrowth of a -mistaken view of life still prevailing in many -quarters, for the crowned corpse is seen to-day -in many public gatherings. What else is the man -who seeks office for the selfish purpose and -pleasure of holding office? In youth he saw the -governor’s chair or Senate seat, and found that -every chord of his nature was awakened and -longed to reach that goal. He determined that -this vision of his soul should be transcribed from -the pages of his imagination to the pages of his<a href="#Page_64"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 64" id="Page_64"></span></a> -nation’s history. Two pathways opened. The -one of a noble purpose, saying, “Seek office, that -you may render needed service to your fellow -countrymen.” The pathway of selfishness -opened its portals saying, “Seek office for the -sake of gain.” Seeing that trickery and deceit -promised the easier way to gain his end, he -started with leaps and bounds. He cast lots with -dishonesty and dissipation. He became a perjurer, -a liar, and a thief. He sold himself to an -unworthy cause, at last the coveted crown was -his. To-day he sits at the head of the table, not -a great ruler, but a crowned corpse. In his -struggle for power he lost all that constitutes -real living.</p> - -<p>What else is the man who seeks wealth for the -sole sake of having money? For years he has -lived the life of a slave, denying himself beauty, -music, books, devotions, and benevolence, until, -at last, his name appears in Bradstreet marked -“AA,” and the world greets him as a king. Who -is he? A crowned corpse. When he began his -career two pathways opened. The one of a noble -purpose saying, “Make money for the sake of -doing good.” The other way, the way of selfishness, -saying, “Make money to satisfy your own -desires.” He chose the latter way. He has his -robe and crown, and is seated amid light and -applause, but he is not capable of appreciating<a href="#Page_65"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 65" id="Page_65"></span></a> -its meaning. Long ago he died to honor, and -truth, and love, and generous impulse. He -knows not the meaning of life.</p> - -<p>Among the crowned corpses should also be -mentioned those who follow society for society’s -sake. Through imitation they have destroyed -personality. They have smothered their souls -under the weight of their self-adornment. In -their wild search for physical pleasure all the -radiant, sparkling glory of a cultured spirituality -has faded into the pallor of death. They are -richly robed, they ride in state, receive the -plaudits of their followers, sit at table spread -with gold and silver plate, but they are now -dead to all the higher things of life and are unable -to appreciate the empty honors they -receive.</p> - -<p>The secret of successful living is to follow the -pathway of a noble purpose. At first the path -may seem a long and arduous one, but it is the -only way that has booths in which to rest the -weary feet and crowns for living souls to wear. -It is in this pathway that one learns the secret -of the Christ life, for as he journeys on the way -to nobility a voice is ever whispering in his -ears: “Life consists in living unselfishly. Seek -power only that you may have strength to serve -those who are weak. Gain wealth only that you -may be able to multiply your usefulness.” The<a href="#Page_66"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 66" id="Page_66"></span></a> -road of a noble purpose leads to a throne, not -one for the dead body, but a throne for the living -soul. Here too is applause, not such as the -Scythian dead received but such as was accorded -the Roman conqueror. What a thrill follows -noble endeavor! What a joy to come to old age -having fought battles for those who were too -weak to fight for themselves, and brought victory -where otherwise his people would have -suffered defeat and death!</p> - -<p>The world honors those who honor it. The -ruler who has followed the pathway of a noble -purpose is always honored by his people. Before -him is spread the banquet of a nation’s reverence -and homage. The man who, in getting money, -has kept his hands clean from dishonesty, made -just returns for all labor he required, and has -kept his heart tender toward his fellow man, is -honored by everyone. Men delight to fill his -days with happiness, as honeysuckle loves to fill -the air with sweetness. When the world discovers -a woman whose desire for society is not to -satisfy her vanity, or fill a shallow soul with -selfish pleasures, but her desire is to scatter -jewels of love and gems of inspiration to make -rich and beautiful the lives of the common folk, -it crowns her in the temple of its heart and calls -her an angel sent of God.</p> - -<p>The days of autocratic power are ended, but<a href="#Page_67"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 67" id="Page_67"></span></a> -the hands of the people are busy building -thrones and weaving crowns of gold. So long as -there is a love for nobility in the human heart -men and women of nobility will be placed in -power. Life consisteth not in the abundance of -the <em>things</em> which a man possesseth but in following -the pathway of a noble purpose.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_68"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 68" id="Page_68"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="X">X<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Swords for Moral Battles</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">The</span> best weapons with which to fight moral -battles have already been forged, sharpened, and -polished, waiting to be unsheathed for conflict. -There are some things that the ingenuity of man -cannot improve. Man’s genius may perfect the -locomotive to give swiftness to his feet; it may -magnify his voice until his whispers are heard a -thousand miles away; it may perfect machinery -giving speed and accuracy to his busy fingers; -it may print his speech and multiply his audience -a millionfold; it may open new fields of -endeavor, thus increasing the circle of his influence; -it may do many things to break down -barriers, and increase usefulness; but all the -genius and skill of man can never devise nor -contribute to any life a better or keener weapon -with which to fight moral battles than belonged -to us the eventful morning we left the old homeplace -and mother’s presence, to begin, among -strangers, our first conquest with the world.</p> - -<p>As a royal exile David was facing a grave -crisis. The relentless enemy was pressing hard,<a href="#Page_69"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 69" id="Page_69"></span></a> -and he possessed no means of defense. Leaving -his hiding place, he hurried into the presence of -Ahimelech and asked for a spear or a sword. As -Ahimelech was a priest, and not a warrior, he -was about to dismiss the young man empty-handed -when, suddenly, he remembered. -Wrapped in cloth, hanging behind the high -priest’s robe, was an old sword, the very one that -this young man had one time taken from the -stiffening fingers of a dying giant, whom he had -slain on the eventful morning of his first great -conflict. Slowly and carefully the old man took -the gleaming blade from its resting place, unwrapped -it with reverent touch, explaining that -it was all that he had to offer. David was instantly -filled with delight. His eyes gleamed -with fire, his heart and soul were thrilled with -memories of that bright morning, when, filled -with the ardor of youth, he had run down the -mountainside to make conquest with the giant. -This was that giant’s sword! The very one that -he had wrenched from the stiffening fingers of -the vanquished foe. Reaching forward he -grasped it in his strong right hand saying: -“There is none like that; give it me.” There -may have been and probably were better and -more beautiful swords in the world; keener -steel may have been forged into swords for the -generals and kings of other lands, but for David<a href="#Page_70"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 70" id="Page_70"></span></a> -there was none other quite so efficient as the one -with which he had gained his first victory.</p> - -<p>There are no newly discovered weapons with -which to fight the moral battles of to-day. As -David was aroused from the shrinking spirit of -a fugitive to become a conquering king, by being -given the weapon of his former battle, so each -man must make requisition upon the past. -Behold the weapons which hang in the sacred -temple of our souls awaiting the grasp of a -courageous hand.</p> - -<p>There is the sword of our childhood dreams. -Let memory make you a little child again with -brother and sister about the hearthstone on a -winter’s evening, and let your heart glow with -good cheer. Or let the sunshine of summer fall -across your way until you are a child once more, -running with bare feet through the winding ways -of the meadow, chasing moths and butterflies, or -wading the stream back of the old schoolhouse, -your heart as carefree as the rippling waters. -Let the dull monotonous hum and soothing -influences of those happy days of wonderment -come back to your heart until your eyes half -close and you begin redreaming your youthful -dreams. Blessed dreams, that cause the muscles -of your face to relax, while laughter comes to the -lips, and compels you to forget the blistering -ways you have trodden since those sun-bright<a href="#Page_71"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 71" id="Page_71"></span></a> -days. Dream your dreams of tenderness and -confidence, for the tendency of the city is to -harden the heart and dull the sympathies. Then -will you have a worthy weapon with which to -make battle. You need your old-time faith in -God and confidence in man, your former optimistic -view of life that gave brightness to every -future fancy; your trustfulness in mother’s love -and father’s counsel; the belief that divine power -was working for your success because your heart -was pure; let these memories and fond dreams -come to you once again. You need them. Without -the dreams of life the arm has little strength -and the will but little power. Let them come -back, bringing smiles for your face, and wreaths -for your brow, and heaps of gold for your coffers. -Youthful dreams must never fade from the -gallery of memory if men would achieve. Lay -hold upon them with all your power, knowing -that while manhood’s wisdom is valuable, it is -not half so effectual in fighting life’s battles as -are the warm dreams of youth. With the sword -of a worthy dream a man can defeat any adversary, -scale any rampart, take any stronghold. -Youth’s dreams were never intended to be lost. -They are stored away in the most sacred part -of your nature. Plead for their return, and finding -them, exclaim with David, “There is none -like that; give it me.”</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_72"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 72" id="Page_72"></span></a></p> - -<p>There is the sword of your old-time enthusiasm -and resolution. There was a time when you -believed yourself the possessor of a divine -quality that would compel your brightest -dream to come true. With age you are becoming -more prosaic. You are not so confident and -self-assertive. You excuse your shortcomings by -asserting that you are becoming “more conservative,” -forgetful that conservatism is very -often only a refined name for dry rot or petrification. -No man can win a fight with merely the -weapons of conservatism. What you need is the -old-time enthusiasm with which you announced -your determination to leave home, the enthusiasm -with which you packed the old trunk, and -that fired your soul as you drove away from the -old homestead, and made you determined to -win fame and fortune at any cost. Time instead -of deadening should kindle the fires of enthusiasm. -You are living in the greatest hour of -history. You are better equipped and environed -and protected than the people of any generation. -The quest was never so valuable; the rewards -for noble endeavor never more abounding. -There is no reason for any man giving up to indifference -or despair. Take up your old-time -enthusiasm until your heart burns with power -that quickens the step and strengthens the arm. -Lay hold of this conquering sword with which<a href="#Page_73"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 73" id="Page_73"></span></a> -you have slain many a giant and cry with the -spirit of a true conqueror, “There is none like -that; give it me.”</p> - -<p>There is the sword of your childhood faith in -God. As you have grown older you have -acquainted yourself with many theories and -tried many dogmas strange and fanciful, but -none of them have had sufficient strength and -keenness to win your battle. You have been -compelled to throw them aside, and now, in the -crisis, you are compelled to face the enemy of -your soul without means of defense. Then take -up the sword of your childhood faith in God that -filled your younger years with beauty, that -warmed your enthusiasm, and made you fight -single-handed while an army trembled. Kneel -once more as you knelt at your mother’s knee; -look up with an open face toward your Father -in heaven; cherish his words and keep his commandments; -and from this hour no man can -defeat you. In the outstretched hand of your -Christian mother is the sword of your old-time -faith in God. May you have the wisdom of -David when he saw the sword in the hands of -the priest and exclaim with all the earnestness -of your repentant soul, “There is none like -that; give it me.”</p> - -<p>There is no modern improvement in making -swords for moral battles. Man’s progress in the<a href="#Page_74"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 74" id="Page_74"></span></a> -sciences is not because he has improved but -because he has employed the laws of nature, -laws that have coexisted with the world. The -telephone, telegraph, and incandescent are not -the result of man inventing electricity. Science -wins all her conquests by using old swords but -perfect ones, because they come from the hand -of God. We need no new religions, cults, or -creeds. Being man-made they have no excellence -of steel or temper. The emphasis must be -placed, not upon the theory, but upon the moral -laws which are just as vital to the spiritual life -as natural laws are to the development of -science. These laws are perfect. The Ten Commandments -are incomparable. Not one of them -is unnecessary but each one vital to triumphant -living. Add to these the new commandment of -Christ that we are to love the Lord our God with -all our mind and heart and soul and strength -and our neighbors as ourselves, and we have an -arsenal with which to conquer all the powers of -earth and hell.</p> - -<p>The world is weary following the ways of men. -Righteousness alone exalteth a nation. “Back -to God!” is the war-cry. “There is none like -that; give it me.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_75"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 75" id="Page_75"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XI">XI<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Spiced Wine</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">In</span> his Songs Solomon referred to a beautiful -Oriental custom. The bride and bridegroom -drank from the same cup, that they might show -the assembled guests their willingness to henceforth -share all the cups of life, whether sweet or -bitter. To add to the joy of the wedding banquet -the cup from which the wedded ones were to -drink would be passed first to the others who -were seated with them. As it passed from hand -to hand each guest would drop into the ruby -wine a gift of fragrant spice, expressing thus -the earnest wish that every bitter cup of life -might be brightened and sweetened with the -spices of good friendship. From the first moment -of wedded life their loved ones wished that they -taste of nothing save joy and happiness. In his -great poem Solomon somewhat alters the -ancient custom and represents the bride performing -this service of spicing the wine for the -husband, as much as to say, “I would render -unto thee only the sweetest, the purest, and the -best that earth can hold.”</p> - -<p>One of the greatest needs of to-day is a spirit<a href="#Page_76"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 76" id="Page_76"></span></a> -of willingness to spice the sour wines which -others are daily compelled to drink. There are -few greater services to render both God and man -than to proffer the cup of spiced wine.</p> - -<p>The church as the Bride of Christ should offer -to him no service that is not sweet and aromatic -with the spices of sincerity and love. This is the -only way the world will ever be taken for Jesus -Christ. The church must offer something better, -more pleasing, and more wholesome than the -wines that this world has to offer. It is the -tendency to give to God the drainings from life’s -vintage. We often spend the week in pursuit of -selfish pleasures, drinking the sweetest wines and -giving them freely to our chosen companions, -and then, in hours of worship, give to God the -cheaper, sourer wines, making religious worship -unwholesome, acrid, bitter, and nauseous.</p> - -<p>Unless we do away with our acrimonious -methods and make our services to God more -aromatic and pleasant, the church is going to -lose all hold upon her boys and girls. As a child’s -growing body requires sugar, so his awakened -spiritual powers need that which is sweetened -with the spices of gladness and whole-heartedness.</p> - -<p>This is the only way by which the church shall -get and retain its grip on men of affairs. All -week long these individuals have been tasting<a href="#Page_77"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 77" id="Page_77"></span></a> -the acid and the bitterness of earthly struggle -and competitive ambition. Sunday morning -comes and they are tired, and nervous, and all -worn out. What they need is a cup of spices, -each bit of spice a gift of love. They need to -have their minds taken away from the bitterness -and acidity of life and given something that is -fragrant and stimulating, something that will -revive and strengthen them for future activity. -This is the purpose of the church. It is to gather -from all quarters of the earth all things that are -good, wholesome, and attractive, and press -them, as a gift of love, to the lips of every -worshiper. It is to crowd each service with -inspiring song, short helpful prayers, warm-worded -greetings, and enthusiastic handshaking, -until the silver chalice brims with gladness. -Bring all your spices into the house of God and -offer to Christ a pleasing gift. There is no telling -how much good you can do. Look into the face -of your Creator whenever you enter his temple -and pray with an earnest heart: “O Lord, I -would this day cause thee to drink spiced wine.”</p> - -<p>This should not only be the attitude of the -church toward its Lord, but it should certainly -be the spirit with which it daily faces the world. -As we confront each individual we should be -able to say: “I would cause thee, my brother, -my sister, to drink spiced wine.” We should go<a href="#Page_78"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 78" id="Page_78"></span></a> -through life so prepared with the spices of good -cheer that the moment we found one with a cup -of bitterness we could remove all its disagreeableness -before it is pressed to their parched -lips. We should carry spices for their cups, and -not pepper for the eyes, or salt with which to -rub the sores of our enemies. Spices so sweeten -the cup that men forget their hatred and find -themselves glad that we are here.</p> - -<p>Give them the spices of a good disposition. -Our dispositions are not unalterable gifts thrust -upon us at birth, but are largely a matter of -cultivation. If we associate with that which is -sour and crabbed, our dispositions will, of necessity, -assume the same nature. If we live a life of -goodness, we will most naturally have a sweet -disposition. The difference between peaches -and pickles is far more than a matter of spelling. -Peaches are not pickles, because they absorb the -sunlight and the sweetness of the soil, until even -their tartness is delicious to the taste. Pickles -are not peaches because they absorb only those -things which suggest and harmonize with salt -and vinegar. We never think of pickles without -thinking about vinegar. Their difference is in -the choice of elements used in building tissues. -The same thing is true with us. We make our -dispositions, and because we do, we should be -lovers of the aromatic spices with which God<a href="#Page_79"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 79" id="Page_79"></span></a> -has crowded the world. O that those who profess -to love God would cease shaking pepper into -others’ lives, and begin to put sweet spices of a -good disposition into cups already too bitter -with the gall of sorrow and disappointment.</p> - -<p>Give them the spices of a cheerful conversation. -No good comes from burning the mind -of the world with the acid of criticism, or distressing -their lacerated hearts with the story of -our personal discomforts. Give spices. Instead -of telling how the rheumatism made the joints -creak on their hinges, tell the story of how once -you were able to leap over the fences and how -you swung from the topmost branch of the old -apple tree. Instead of telling about the horrors -of insomnia, and how little you slept that past -week, and how miserably the morning hours -wore away, tell about the red bird that sang -under your window and awakened a thousand -memories of your childhood, tell how you -noticed the fresh air of the morning awakened -symphonies among the dew-laden leaves. It -is so much nicer to be a candle that gives light -than a smoky chimney that belches soot and -cinders. The world always appreciates its -bearers of good news. Happy conversation is -within the reach of every one. No matter how -blind we may be to the blessings of to-day, -memory holds a box of spices within easy reach,<a href="#Page_80"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 80" id="Page_80"></span></a> -and we can fill our words with a sweetness that -will cast an undying fragrance.</p> - -<p>It is not difficult to be cheerful when we -remember that we meet only two classes of -people, no matter how far we travel, or how long -we live. The one class consists of those who are -making failure of life. Each word we speak -brings to them either the bitterness of wormwood -or the good cheer of wild honey. The opportunity -to give encouragement to the downcast -comes every day. Tired, worn, and jaded, -they meet us upon every street corner and press -against us at every assembly. O that they might -rejoice as they taste the spices we are placing in -their wine! The other class of people whom we -are meeting are those who are making success of -life, and who are very often the most neglected. -Because they receive worldly honor we think -them extremely happy, not recognizing their -loneliness. The world never hesitates to press -its sponge of vinegar and gall to the lips of those -who are serving it.</p> - -<p>Several years ago there was a large gathering -in Calvary Church, New York City, to pay -tribute to Dr. Edward Washburn. Phillips -Brooks, Bishop Potter, and many other men of -distinction met in that magnificent service and -offered words of praise to the goodness, courage, -clear thinking, untainted love and unselfish devotion<a href="#Page_81"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 81" id="Page_81"></span></a> -of that mighty man. After all had ended -their words of praise a little woman, dressed in -black, who had been the companion of Dr. -Washburn for so many years of married life, -slowly arose to address the audience. Amid an -intense silence she repeated over and over again -these words: “O, if you men loved Edward so, -why did you never tell him?” What a revelation -of heart-hunger! Long years of bitterness when -all might have been relieved with just a little -spice, that is readily found and easily bestowed.</p> - -<p>Bring on the spices! Let us be more affectionate -one toward another. The eldest son of a -large family was kneeling at his mother’s deathbed -saying, “You have been such a good -mother.” The dying woman opened her eyes -and faintly whispered, “You never said so before, -John, you never said that before.” Let -this be our motto as we meet all men: “I would -cause you to drink spiced wine.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_82"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 82" id="Page_82"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XII">XII<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Fever of Health</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">One</span> of man’s richest possessions is the feeling -of restlessness and discontent that ever pushes -onward seeking something new. It is the secret -of discovery. Beholding the sunset, like a -thousand camp fires flashing their beams upon -the crimson and purple curtained tents of ever-encamping -angels, man determined to enter into -and share their quiet place of rest and luxury. -Hastening forward, he easily found the hills that -yester-night formed the mystic camping ground, -but nowhere would a torn leaf or trampled -grass-blade betray a single footprint; while, -looking farther westward than he had traveled, -he saw the same crimson-and-purple tents -stretched upon other hilltops bathed with sunset’s -golden light. Month followed month while -man continued journeying westward in fruitless -quest for peace, but in his effort to reach the -cherished goal he discovered new lakes and -rivers, hills and valleys, plains and forests, until -a mighty continent lay ready for his children’s -children to build cities rivaling in power and<a href="#Page_83"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 83" id="Page_83"></span></a> -splendor the mystic camps of sunset’s unseen -hosts.</p> - -<p>Restlessness and dissatisfaction are the secret -of invention. Satisfied with their condition, -China, India, and Africa yield no inventions. -Their people carry water in flasks of skin, travel -upon weary-footed beasts of burden, and bequeath -their children nothing but tradition. -Such once was all the world until some individuals -of courage and determination caught the -fever of health. Dissatisfied and restless, man -became weary of carrying water and would not -rest until he had perfected the Holly Engine that -presses a cup of cool water to every thirsty lip -within the city. Tired of slow travel, he compelled -the locomotive to give fleetness to his -feet, and the telephone to give rapid transit to -his voice. Restless because the singer’s voice -must fade in silence, man built the phonograph -to give the human voice, the frailest of all man’s -possessions, everlasting life. Dissatisfaction -with things as they are gives invention her rich -achievements.</p> - -<p>Art follows only in the footsteps of restlessness. -Every painting and tapestry hanging on -palace wall, every anthem that thrills the -templed throngs, and every melody that wafts its -sweet cadence upon the trembling, vibrant air, -exists because some sensitive soul refused to<a href="#Page_84"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 84" id="Page_84"></span></a> -know contentment until he had given perfect -expression to the beauty that dwelt within his -soul.</p> - -<p>Only through the contagion of the divine -fever can there be any reform. It was only when -the restless soul of John Howard began to express -its contempt for the foul floors and vitiated -air of England’s jails and aroused the slumbering -conscience of an indifferent people that the cruel -prison systems of the world were changed. Reform -in England’s colonial policy that made -possible the unity of Canada and the founding -of our own government came only when men -began to chafe and grow restless under unjust -treatment, and finally found expression in the -burning, blazing, nervous eloquence of Patrick -Henry, “Give me liberty, or give me death!”</p> - -<p>Because men were satisfied with things as -they were, the city slums became deeper, fouler -depths of misery entombing thousands of human -beings in inexcusable death-traps, robbing -parents of hope and childhood of its lawful inheritance -of health and goodness. These things -continued until one poor lad grew divinely restless. -A little immigrant boy of poetic temperament -and lofty aspirations, by the name of -Jacob Riis, cried out in protest against the -injustice of foul air and darkened homes. Restless -himself, he made the city restless, until New<a href="#Page_85"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 85" id="Page_85"></span></a> -York transformed her tenements, purified her -slums, and reformed her government until she -became one of the cleanest cities of the world—in -many ways a worthy example for the cities -of the Old World to follow. The restlessness of -Livingstone redeemed Africa. The restlessness -of Morris saved China. The restlessness of -Thoburn is working miracles in India. When -men found it impossible to sit at ease while their -brothers were in chains slavery disappeared. -Because men became weary with drunkenness -and tired listening to the pathetic pleading of -drunkards’ wives and children, an aroused nation -closed the open saloons and placed a ban -upon the sale of alcoholic drink. Men are now -becoming tired of war. They believe that the -world has drunk its fill of human blood. The -hour for world-wide disarmament has come, and -rulers must be made to think before sacrificing -their people’s lives.</p> - -<p>Here also we find the secret of mental development. -So long as the human mind is satisfied -with tradition it cannot grow; but let it once -become uneasy under the deadening power of -superstition, its very restlessness will make the -mountains unlock their secrets, the plants yield -tribute of health-creating medicines, the clouds -unbosom their mystery, and even the starlight -becomes a pencil of gold to write upon the tablet<a href="#Page_86"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 86" id="Page_86"></span></a> -of the sky the marvelous story of man’s growing -intellectual power.</p> - -<p>No one of God’s gifts is to be valued more -than this feeling of unrest that he inspires within -the heart, making us dissatisfied with ourselves -and our surroundings, and forcing us forward to -become skillful in discovery, art, invention, reform, -and intellectuality.</p> - -<p>But the beneficent influence of health’s fever -does not end here, for it is also the secret of -spiritual development. We have all experienced -these seasons of holy manifestation. Our friends -said that we had the fidgets; the physician -diagnosed our case as one of nervousness; we -insisted that we had the blues; but all were -wrong. The restlessness was a sign of health. -We were not satisfied with ourselves but longed -for nobility. The dust-made body was refusing -to grovel in the dust. The spiritual life was beginning -to assert itself through these tissues of -flesh. The chrysalis had lost its desire to crawl -along the ground, for new life within claimed its -right to rise upon joyous wing and cleave the -sunlit air. It was not a thing to be despised, to -mar and gnaw the budding leaf, but something -to be admired and loved of man, something -sylphlike to sip from chalices of gold and silver, -porphyry and lapis-lazuli. The old man of sin -was dying, and through the power of Christ a<a href="#Page_87"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 87" id="Page_87"></span></a> -new man was coming into life; from now on he -can never be satisfied with things as they were.</p> - -<p>One of the hopes of the world’s salvation is the -fact that sin never satisfies the soul. Its promises -are never fulfilled. Its obligations are never met -at maturity. Men become restless in their sin, -and through their restlessness are being led to -God. Here alone can satisfaction be found, for -only Christ supplies the soul with what it needs -for the journey set before it. He offers guidance, -saying, “I am the way.” Following him no soul -has ever been lost amid the bewildering maze of -sin. He offers sustaining power saying, “I am -the bread of life” and “I am the water of life.” -The dusty ashes of sin no longer choke, but for -the hunger there is life-giving bread, and for the -parched lip there is water. He gives illumination, -saying, “I am the light,” and the terrors of -darkness and the dangers of the night flee away. -He offers an open way, saying, “I am the door,” -and through him one passes out of the cramped -prison house of past sins into untrammeled, unmeasured -freedom. He offers immortality, saying, -“I am the resurrection and the life: he that -believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall -he live.” The deadening power of sin loses its -hold, and one tastes the unspeakable joy of -living a life that is life indeed.</p> - -<p>Then be not confounded by the feeling of<a href="#Page_88"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 88" id="Page_88"></span></a> -restlessness that ever creeps upon the healthy -soul. What a tragedy our lives would be had we -been satisfied with our first achievements! How -terribly pathetic it is to become satisfied with -ourselves now, while we are so far short of what -we might be, and so lamentably short of what -God meant our lives to be! Curb not the spirit -of restlessness as though it were a fever of death. -It is health’s fever. It is the call of the soul for -its Creator who longs to lead us into better -things.</p> - -<p>To-morrow will be a beautiful day because -to-day is so restless.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_89"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 89" id="Page_89"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIII">XIII<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Wisdom of the Unlearned</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">The</span> pathway of true brotherly love is -bordered with deformed social conditions which -must be faced and remedied. Entering the -temple at the hour of prayer, Peter and John -had their pious meditations interrupted by the -appealing cry of a crippled beggar, who was -crouching helplessly at the temple door. His -haggard face, his wistful eye, his bony, outstretched -hand, pleaded so passionately that the -singing of the Levites was drowned and the -temple call to prayer unheeded. The eyes of -Peter and the beggar met, and Christlike -spirituality stood face to face with the practical -aspect of the world’s need. Instantly the great-hearted, -impetuous Peter took notice of the -helpless man, whose wan face began to brighten -with hope. Taking him by the right hand, Peter -said: “Silver and gold have I none. I cannot -meet the requirements that you ask, knowing -that it is not money that you need, so much as -health and strength, with which to earn a livelihood -for yourself and for your loved ones. Silver<a href="#Page_90"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 90" id="Page_90"></span></a> -and gold have I none; but such as I have, give -I thee. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth -rise up and walk.” The cripple did not have -time to waver, nor to debate, for the warm -handclasp and the strong arm of the enthusiastic -servant of Christ was lifting him to his -feet and teaching him how to leap, and run, and -sing the praises of God. Peter and John felt -that they could not enter the temple to pray -until they had proven their right to worship by -practically meeting whatever part of the world-wide -social needs chanced, at that moment, to -confront them.</p> - -<p>But their benevolence was misinterpreted by -those who should have been the most appreciative. -Overzealous religionists, who usually -mistake the form for the spirit of worship, had -the two benefactors arrested, accused of violating -their law concerning the observance of the -Sabbath day. After a night spent upon the -cold, damp stones of the inner prison, the two -disciples were brought before the learned magistrate -to explain their conduct.</p> - -<p>There is nothing more interesting than these -unfriendly scholarly investigations of religious -phenomena, conducted for the purpose of securing -a rational psychological explanation. The -high priests, the scribes, the rulers of city and -province were seated in state, when the two<a href="#Page_91"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 91" id="Page_91"></span></a> -humble followers of the Social Christ, with -common garb, and net-calloused hands, stood at -the judgment bar and heard the question: “By -what power have ye done this?” A more modern -phraseology of the question would be, “State to -the Court what is the psychological explanation -of this purported miracle?”</p> - -<p>It was a critical moment to these judges, for -scholarship, with much ado, was studying and -analyzing ignorance. But the Peter of Pentecost -was not to be dismayed. He knew that the -service of Christ is not formal but practical, and -that his conduct in curing a lame beggar was -more important to God than the observing of a -thousand man-made forms and ceremonies. He -knew from his former experience that ignorance -need have no fear of the scoffer’s sneer, or the -scholar’s questioning, when once the heart has -been fully consecrated to the service of God. -With confidence they faced the inquirers saying, -frankly: “The power is not ours. This miracle -was performed through the power of Christ, -which you, in your learning, threw aside, and -which we, in the simplicity of our untutored -hearts, have accepted as the gift of God.” The -power of Pentecost was with the preacher again, -and the judges were filled with fear and wonderment. -Against their most earnest desires they -liberated the men, wondering why they, as<a href="#Page_92"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 92" id="Page_92"></span></a> -learned men, should be influenced by men of -such untrained intellects.</p> - -<p>While Christianity has always waged warfare -against ignorance in all forms, and has been the -leader in founding schools and colleges, the fact -remains that many of our greatest achievements -have been wrought by untrained men. God -often takes the weak things of this world to -confound the mighty.</p> - -<p>When an unorganized and badly scattered -people needed a wise ruler, God passed by the -palace doors and over the seats of learning that, -in the open fields, he might crown David, a -shepherd lad. When Jerusalem was a ruined -city, overgrown with weed and briar, God -ignored commanding generals and ruling monarchs, -to honor Nehemiah, whose conquering -courage rebuilt the city. When mad with power -and wild excesses of sin, a mighty nation needed -restraint, God stepped over the royal houses as -though they were playthings upon the nursery -floor, and lifted Daniel, an exile, to become the -condemning conscience for them who had slain -their consciences, and to become a radiant hope -for those who were enslaved and had lost all -courage. When the time had fully come for the -kingdom of Christ to be preached to the -cultured and aristocratic, he chose these two -men of the fisher-craft, who, though ignorant<a href="#Page_93"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 93" id="Page_93"></span></a> -and unlearned, made the scholars and statesmen -dumb with wonderment, while the crowned -power of the age was humiliated, unable to cope -successfully against the growing faith.</p> - -<p>Christianity, while not encouraging ignorance, -recognizes what the world often overlooks, that -learning, in itself, has woeful limitations. When -rightly employed, mental training multiplies -one’s powers and talents, as the circling moon -gives strength and swiftness to the rising tides; -but misapplied book-learning has little value. In -the crises of life the general information gleaned -from books counts for but very little. The -knowledge that water, when reduced in temperature -to thirty degrees or less, freezes, so that a -dangerous river is changed into a solid highway -over which one can walk in safety, is of small -value to a man who is drowning in the summer -time, and very few drowning men would call for -a thermometer to take the temperature of the -water in which they were sinking. Standing -beneath a falling wall, no man is going to begin -to calculate the specific gravity of the falling -elements or estimate the force of impact upon -his head. All learning is good, and nothing -in the line of information should be ignored, -for, along the more or less narrow line of its -own application, each truth is of inestimable -value. Each added truth that one learns pulls<a href="#Page_94"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 94" id="Page_94"></span></a> -up the tent stakes of the horizon and widens the -world just so much, but no man can save himself -with learning alone. Success depends, not -upon scholarship, but upon a spotless love for -God and a boundless love for man. Herein is -the wisdom of life, and the weakest man or -woman may possess it. All men may not become -learned, but all men may become great -and enthusiastic lovers of their fellow man. The -little child that bends its arms in fervent hugs -to show the measure of its affection; the struggling -youth that stops to help a wounded companion; -the widow, fighting against poverty in -the tenement; the old man, patiently looking -for the coming day—all these may possess the -secret of royal living.</p> - -<p>The world will be saved, not by the scholar, -as a scholar, but by the loving heart; not by -platitude, but by kindly deeds. Goodness is -such an easy thing to acquire, that it is within -the reach of all. A little London newsboy was -seen to daily follow an unknown man for many -blocks. When asked by an observer why he did -so he responded, “When he buys a paper from -me, he always smiles, and calls me his boy. He -is the only one who ever called me that, and I -just love to see him.” Here was a life brightened -and perhaps redeemed because a busy man of -wealth took time to say what any one of us is<a href="#Page_95"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 95" id="Page_95"></span></a> -able to say each day. When King Humbert -would have lost his nation he saved it, not by -scholarly exhortations or startling state papers, -but by visiting the hospitals of Naples and -ministering with genuine affection a plague-smitten -people. It was a task of love that the -weakest person might be able to perform, but it -saved a nation for a king.</p> - -<p>The world will be saved. Righteousness shall -ultimately prevail. The kingdoms of this world -shall become the kingdom of our Christ. There -are no failures in God’s mighty plans. We may -vary in our beliefs, and differ greatly as to the -process by which he shall accomplish his wise -designs, but this is true: when this world is -brought ultimately to the feet of Christ, it will -have been accomplished not by prayer alone but -by work and prayer, not by the scholar as a -scholar but by the men, learned or unlearned, -who have discovered the compelling and transforming -power of a boundless, undying love.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_96"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 96" id="Page_96"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIV">XIV<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Strength of Weakness</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">An</span> old man was once opening the treasury of -his experience to enrich the young people of -Corinth. Youth ever needs such a benefactor, -for life’s most difficult problem is to definitely -determine upon which element or elements of -life the emphasis should be placed. Like a river, -life has so many contributing streams of large -volume that it is difficult to decide unto which -one we are most indebted for our power. There -is only one way to ascertain this fact, and that -is to trace the current of life-power to its source -and stand, with reverent feet, at its utmost -gurgling spring. But this task is hard and is -fraught with danger. What youth, standing at -the joining of the currents, can tell to a certainty -which is the real current and which the contributing -stream of influence? Among the most -pathetic incidents of history are those portraying -some of our richest and most favored sons of -genius mistaking a contributing element of life -for life itself and spending their days within the -narrow winding ways of mediocrity. Youth -needs the open treasury of the past, therefore<a href="#Page_97"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 97" id="Page_97"></span></a> -it is a rare privilege to have Paul thus open the -treasure chest of his varied and triumphant experiences -and tell us what is the secret source -of life’s richest endowment. Looking over a life -of many years, covering an intense and diversified -experience, enriched with mental and -spiritual training, he declared to the young -people of Corinth that the source of personal -power is weakness.</p> - -<p>That is the last place in the world that we -would naturally look for strength, for we have -always been taught that weakness is the absence -of strength. To be enduring we believed that -we should possess the rigidity and firmness of the -rocks, forgetful that long after the red stone -walls of Kenilworth have tottered into complete -ruin the fragile ivy, planted by unknown -hands, will still live to cover the rough, broken -heap of weather-beaten stones with the graceful -folds of its swaying branches. We have believed -that stability depended upon rigid strength, not -realizing that, in nature, the strong are the most -fragile, while the weak are the most enduring.</p> - -<p>The source of triumphant living is not the -adamantine will that refuses to bend or budge, -but is the will that yields itself to higher power. -Only when one finds that a feeling of weakness is -creeping over him, and realizes that, in his own -strength alone, he is inadequate for the task,<a href="#Page_98"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 98" id="Page_98"></span></a> -does he possess true conquering power. One of -the best hours of a man’s life is when, through -sickness, toil, or persecution, he feels his physical -powers giving way, and his soul rises to claim -the occasion for God and his humanity. Knowing -that while he himself is weak, the needed -power is within easy reach, a man is strong. In -such a crisis, to become self-confident is to be -like the hunted partridge which, seeking escape, -confidently enters the trap set for his destruction. -Strength comes when, overwhelmed with -a sense of unutterable weakness, one flings himself -at the feet of Christ, and prays as did the -sinking disciple, “Lord, save me.”</p> - -<p>How very true this is in the hours of our -severe temptation! No man ever sought refuge -from temptation in self-confidence who, in the -strain of battle, did not find his fortress crumbling -into dust, while he himself suffered humiliating -defeat. Simon Peter learned this truth. -Strong and boastful in his self-assertiveness, he -stood amid the gathering shadows of the world’s -darkest and most tragic night, and smiled as one -who gladly greets the dawning of his wedding day. -He was confident, beyond question, that he -was equal to any emergency that might arise. -It was easy for him to boast and proclaim loudly -what he would do. Beholding the same fast-deepening -shadows, Christ fell to his knees in<a href="#Page_99"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 99" id="Page_99"></span></a> -prayer, and with broken voice and heavy, blood-stained -sweat, pleaded for his Father to remove -this cup of suffering. Christ, the everlasting -Conqueror, prays for escape from trial, while -Peter, filled with self-assurance, bids the coming -of the worst with defiant spirit, saying, “Though -all men should forsake the Master, yet will not -I.” He boasted bravely that he was ready to die -for Christ. There was a marked contrast between -the ways these two met the same struggle, -but the whole world knows the outcome. In the -presence of trial Peter’s strength was scattered -like heaps of withered autumn leaves. When he -was strong then was he weak. Without the -passing of the cup Christ walked forth strong -enough to win a world from sin, while Peter sank -in shame. But when, a few hours later, we find -the defeated disciple, all alone, in midnight -darkness, weeping like a little child over his -weakness, we rejoice, for we know now that -Pentecost has found its preacher, and the world -has found a mighty champion for God.</p> - -<p>Temptation is a terrible thing. It is a band of -armed brigands, storming the citadel of the soul -to carry away everything that is of value. To -yield is to have the soul ransacked and burned -as though by fire. To face it confidently in one’s -own strength is gravest folly. There is only one -possibility of victory. In that hour of peril,<a href="#Page_100"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 100" id="Page_100"></span></a> -when eternal destinies are at stake, let one feel -his own weakness, and fall helplessly at the feet -of Christ, and call with all the earnestness and -pathos of his frightened soul, “Lord, save, or I -perish!” and victory shall fill his heart with joy -and crown his brow with the light of heaven.</p> - -<p>This truth is applicable to all our sorrows. -There have been hours when we thought best to -meet our sorrows and disappointments with the -spirit of a stoic. With clinched fists, tight-pressed -lips, and dry eyes, we stood, proud of -our strength, defying sorrow by bidding it to do -its worst. We insisted that we were not weak -like others, and that we would boldly bear our -own burdens. But the end was defeat and uncontrollable -grief. The burden was so much -heavier and the grief was so much more bitter -than we had ever expected, that we were crushed -and overcome. Meanwhile at our side stood one -frail and weak, whose bloodshot eyes spoke of -countless nights of grief and anxiety, but whose -calm face and steady voice assured us that she -had gained a wonderful victory, and, in spite of -tempest, had inner calm and rest. How came -the victory to the frail? Because she was frail -and knew that she was frail. As headed wheat -saves its life by bowing passively to the stroking -of the violent winds, so she bowed low at the -touch of sorrow. She yielded herself to the will<a href="#Page_101"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 101" id="Page_101"></span></a> -of God. As Mary and Martha, in their hour of -sorrow and puzzling questions, forgot everything -and fell weeping at the feet of their Lord, so this -woman poured out her prayer of utter helplessness -to God, saying, “Save, Lord, or I perish,” -and in her weakness she became strong. The -strength that is needed to meet sorrow comes, -not from self-control, but abandonment to God; -not from dry eyes, but from tears.</p> - -<p>How true this is of our ministries to our -brother man! It is not an easy matter for one to -enter the Holy of holies of another’s grief and -sorrow, and minister unto them as a true high -priest. Before the growing work of the church, -as it is beginning to live up to its conceptions of -Christian social service, many of our strongest -Christians are becoming faint of heart; in its -growing work of evangelism they become paralyzed -with fright; because they cannot see how -they can approach and minister to those whom -they do not know. They tremble, not knowing -that their very weakness is their source of -strength. Rash boldness and overconfidence are -not part of the true Christian’s equipment. -With such a spirit no one should dare to enter -the sacred inclosure of another’s grief. It is only -when one refuses to trust in human strength or -wisdom, and, possessed of a spirit of humility, -goes forward in the name of Christ, that he can<a href="#Page_102"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 102" id="Page_102"></span></a> -work successfully for God. You may feel called -upon to do works of charity. If so, go forth in -weakness. Instead of polished speech upon the -lip, let there be a teardrop in the eye. The -hungry soul will understand and rejoice that you -have come. In the hour of some one’s sorrow, -you may be able to give only a tender, silent -handclasp; but be not dismayed. The mourning -one will fully understand and thank God that -he sent you unto him. You may be sent to lead -some sinful soul to Christ. In weakness your -words may fail, leaving you nothing to offer -save a look of love. That is enough. Each sinful -one will understand, and through the light of -your loving look will find a pathway back to -God. Only when we are weak are we strong in -the service of Christ.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_103"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 103" id="Page_103"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XV">XV<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Crumbling Palaces</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">The</span> crumbling of our palaces does not necessarily -mean loss, especially if they be the grotesque -ones built in untutored childhood, or -those planned in moments of unguarded enthusiasm, -or given form by impractical impulse, or -intended for selfish or sinful pleasure. We have -never tried to live in the blockhouses built upon -the nursery floor, neither do we mold our lives -according to childhood fancies. There can be no -progress without the compelling power of a well-guided -enthusiasm, but overwrought enthusiasm -is an uncontrollable power bringing moral, -physical, and financial disaster. The ability to -yield promptly to righteous impulse is akin to -genius, but the impulses of an untrained soul are -the frenzied switchmen who ditch and wreck the -train that should have the right of way. When -self-interest means the developing of brain and -talents to establish a worthy character and -beneficent influence, making one a constructive -force in the community, it is not to be despised; -but when self-interest becomes selfishness, the -building of a fortified castle in which one lives<a href="#Page_104"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 104" id="Page_104"></span></a> -at the expense of others, then is the soul smitten -with leprosy, and the home becomes a pest-house, -not a palace. A place of sin is never a -shelter, but a death-trap, its elegance of architecture -and furnishings making it all the more -dangerous. There are many palaces unfit for -habitation. To permit them to decay and -crumble into nothingness is greatest gain, for to -live unworthily is not to live at all.</p> - -<p>On the other hand there is a neglect that -means a helpless, hopeless poverty from which -no influence or friendship can bring deliverance. -When once these palaces are permitted to -crumble we become homeless outcasts, begging -from a world that begrudges us its crumbs. -Therefore one must consider, not only the beginning, -but the upkeep of life.</p> - -<p>There is the palace of Character that needs -guarding. The beginning of the Christian life is -only “the beginning.” Here is the peril of our -present and very popular conception of church -membership. A man often feels that all that is -necessary for his soul’s salvation is to go through -the soulless process of uniting with some religious -organization, and it matters not which one -he may chance to choose. “Joining the church” -is looked upon as taking out a spiritual life insurance, -without any thought of paying premiums -through the passing years. Having his<a href="#Page_105"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 105" id="Page_105"></span></a> -name duly inscribed upon the records of some -church gives a man confidence with which to -face death, and the coming judgment, not realizing -that the Church Record will perish in the -flames of the last day; and that men are judged -by comparing the records which God has kept -with the record that each man writes upon the -pages of his own body, mind, and soul. Preachers -have bigger business at the Judgment than -carrying their Church Records and appearing as -counsel for the members of their flocks. They -must appear at the Judgment and answer for -themselves.</p> - -<p>Christian living is righteous living, being -right with God and right with man, in all the -dealings of daily life. It is not, like vaccination, -completed in one short operation, but, like -breathing, an activity that includes every second -of one’s earthly existence. It is not moving into -a furnished apartment which you can secure by -making certain payments, but the building of -the palace of Character. Stone by stone, the -great structure is erected, its foundation resting -upon the solid rock, its walls built with God’s -plumb line, its turrets and battlements lifted -high to receive the blessings of the sky. It is not -built in a day, but requires the unceasing toil of -all our days, else it will crumble into hopeless -ruin.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_106"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 106" id="Page_106"></span></a></p> - -<p>Character is not firmly established this side -the grave. There are no character insurance societies. -Right living on the part of youth may -soon give one a reputation of worth, but after -many years of faithful living have resulted in a -palace, admired of men, one misdeed may become -a conflagration that will reduce it to ashes; -one single misspent day may cause the strongest -palace to crumble and decay. The ruins of -Kenilworth are beautiful because covered with -English ivy; for the ruined walls of Character -there is no ivy of sympathy to beautify, but the -bleak and barren wreckage stands in ghastly -hideousness to proclaim to all the world the -story of the misspent day. Both youth and age -alike must guard the palace of Character against -decay.</p> - -<p>There is the palace of Benevolence that needs -guarding. In childhood we learned the difference -between the cold hovel of Selfishness and the -great palace of Benevolence, with its windows -ablaze with light to guide our footsteps, and its -hearthstone aglow with welcoming warmth. -How we feared and shunned the selfish soul, not -for the lack of gifts, but because, with the -clear vision of childhood, we beheld the deformity -of his crabbed soul! How we loved the -dweller of the palace, not for his gifts, but for -the beauty of his smile, the soft light of friendship<a href="#Page_107"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 107" id="Page_107"></span></a> -in his eyes, the joy-creating atmosphere in -which he moved. Then and there we decided -to mold our lives after the plans of that good -man, and be benevolent individuals; not spendthrifts, -but possessed of rich, red blood, and -sympathetic hearts ever open to the beauties -and needs of life. But we soon learn that the -palace of Benevolence cannot be built with one -deed of benevolence, no matter how large and -generous it may be. The gift of some great -public institution, however worthy and serviceable -to the people, is not enough to mark a man -as one who dwells in the palace of Benevolence. -That coveted abode is built, not by gift or gifts, -but by the generous spirit with which we daily -and hourly meet the world. Benevolence is not -a gift, nor series of gifts, but the wholesome, -generous spirit which we manifest toward men. -With such a spirit one builds a beautiful palace -in which to dwell, but one that is very easily -marred and destroyed. One selfish desire, once -hardening the heart against another’s need, one -greedy, grasping longing or desire, and the -palace beautiful crumbles into dust; and they -who once rejoiced at our coming will turn away -with the contempt with which all men greet -unworthiness.</p> - -<p>There also is the palace of Prayer. No earthly -dwelling is so beautiful as that which one builds<a href="#Page_108"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 108" id="Page_108"></span></a> -for his soul through communion with God. -Always situated upon the lofty heights, above -the lowlands of sin and dusty ways of worldliness, -it lifts its towers and pinnacles into a cloudless -sky. The view is clear and unobstructed, so -that one sees the affairs of life in their true relations -to the great world of which they are a part. -The struggles of their fellow men are in clear -sight and therefore observed with sympathetic, -understanding heart. The sky is close, and -when the sun is set the stars peer through the -shadowy canopy, and smile. The atmosphere is -fresh and pure, made fragrant with the breath of -heaven, and he who breathes it feels a power -divine. Nothing is more beautiful than the -palace of Prayer.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, the palace may crumble and -become a hopeless heap of dust. Where once -stood a vision of spirituality one can see nothing -but that which is of the earth earthy. A hidden -sin within the heart, that slyly steals away one’s -love for God; a subtle spirit of worldliness, that -deadens the soul until it ceases to respond to -things divine; a gnawing doubt that, like the -white ants of India, honeycomb the timbers of -the bravest, strongest souls—all these cause the -crumbling of the palace.</p> - -<p>The palaces of the soul, however well established, -require a watchful eye and careful guarding.<a href="#Page_109"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 109" id="Page_109"></span></a> -The powers of evil are destroying elements -that beat and pound upon the shelters of the -soul with destructive fury. But even then, a -well-built palace need not crumble. He who has -the Carpenter of Nazareth as his daily Companion -may build for eternity. Keeping the -sayings of the Master means that the house is -firmly fixed upon a strong foundation and that -all its timbers are strongly knit together; so that -when the floods come and the winds blow and -beat upon it; when a legion of devils encamp -about and lay siege upon the soul; when fires -sweep, and earthquakes work their devastation -to this planet, these palaces, not made with -hands, and not constructed from earthly material, -the palaces of Character, Benevolence, -and Communion with God, shall not be moved. -They shall shelter us here and be eternal in the -heavens.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_110"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 110" id="Page_110"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVI">XVI<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Echo of Life’s Unsung Songs</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">We</span> are familiar with the echo of life’s unfinished -songs. The unfinished songs of confidence, -sung by the martyrs as they stood upon -the yellow sands of the Coliseum, looking upward -beyond the soft blue of the Italian sky to -heights hitherto unseen, have never ceased to -vibrate through the centuries. The unfinished -songs of sacrifice and patriotism which were sung -by our soldiers and sailors who perished in the -world-wide war are still echoing in the music of -every wave that laves the shores of every sea. -We are all familiar with the lingering music of -life’s unfinished songs, but it is well for us to -consider also the echo of the songs that have -never found expression in word or tune.</p> - -<p>Each soul is a minstrel whether he wills it or -no, for God has fashioned a harp for every heart. -There is a tradition that above the head of -David’s couch there hung his favorite harp. The -mountain winds coming through the midnight -silence would stir its strings, awaken the sleeping -lover of song, and bid him weave words of -love to fit the wind-wrought music. Thus were<a href="#Page_111"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 111" id="Page_111"></span></a> -the Psalms created. To each individual God has -intrusted a priceless harp, tight drawn with -silver chords of love, and sensitive to every -touch of passing wind and falling sunbeam. So -delicate are these heart-strings that every event -of life awakens the dormant music and fills the -soul with harmonies divine. Behold how sensitive -they are.</p> - -<p>The day has been dull and gloomy and you -have not cared to go abroad. After a while you -become reminiscent. As though led by an unseen -hand you enter a quiet, unused room and lift the -lid of a quaint, old-fashioned chest. You know -not why your followed impulses led you there, -but you are glad that you obeyed the leading, -for there, resting quietly amid fragrant lavender, -is a treasured gift that came from a mother’s -hand. It has been lying there for many years, -untouched and unseen, but how beautiful its -faded colors, how lovely its wrinkled folds -placed there by the hands so long since turned -to dust! and how, out of the dim mists of the -past, it brings the soft colors and clear outlines -of a dear, sweet face! There are tears in your -eyes, but more and better than that, there is -music in your soul. Every string of your heart is -vibrant with melody.</p> - -<p>One morning you were ill and did not care to -go to the office. You were indisposed just<a href="#Page_112"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 112" id="Page_112"></span></a> -enough to enjoy the rich luxury of being waited -upon, when, suddenly and unexpectedly, your -eyes rested upon an old-fashioned picture that -strangely and wondrously stirred your heart. -For years it had been hanging there with its -treasured memories, but you had been too busy -to notice it. How charming its exquisite beauty -as it greeted you from out its odd, old-styled -frame. Its colors, mellowed with the passing -years, carried you back triumphantly to the sun-bright -days of the long ago, and the soul was -stirred with music that charmed, and soothed, -and inspired.</p> - -<p>The harp-strings of the heart are very sensitive. -A finger-print or tear-stain upon the leaves -of the old family Bible, the frail petals of a -faded blossom, the sight of a tiny yellow garment -or baby shoe, a package of letters tied -with ribbon, or a scrap of paper scrawled by unskilled -childish fingers, just little things that no -one else admires or notices, is all that is required -to start the music ringing in our hearts.</p> - -<p>To this music the soul always responds with -a song. This is true even when one’s musical -education has been neglected. The ear may not -be able to distinguish one note from another, or -discern the difference between “Old Hundred” -and “The Star-Spangled Banner”; the individual -may know nothing about harmony, time, or<a href="#Page_113"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 113" id="Page_113"></span></a> -measure, when listening to the music that others -have given to the world, but his own soul can -always sing its own melodies. There is no note -so high in the scale that the soul cannot reach it. -I have heard the English lark lift its silver notes -until they melted into sunshine and fell in great -billows of joy upon the listening earth. Every -soul can sing like that. As above the couch of -David hung the harp awaiting the touch of the -passing winds, so each heart is a stringed harp -awaiting the touch of some common event to -awaken music and set the soul to singing its -minstrelsies.</p> - -<p>However beautiful these songs, they never -pass the threshold of the lips. Their sweetness -surpasses the power of expression. That must -have been the reason why Mendelssohn wept so -bitterly at times. With all his marvelous power -in weaving tones he could not give expression to -the rapturous melodies which were surging -through his soul. This also explains why -Michael Angelo so often gave way to the -dreariest despondency. Though he try never so -hard, he could not express upon canvas or in -marble form the heavenly symphonies that were -thrilling his soul. The reason that Lord Tennyson -stood for such long periods upon the cliffs, -overlooking the sea, not hearing the call of an -approaching friend, was that his soul was searching<a href="#Page_114"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 114" id="Page_114"></span></a> -through earth and sea and sky, for words -with which to express the songs his soul was -ever singing.</p> - -<p>The deepest and most valuable emotions of -life are always inexpressible. How useless is -human speech in the presence of the deep feelings -of awe and reverence! I stood with a friend -upon one of the great heights of the Catskills. -He was a genial man, and the day had been filled -with merriment. Rounding a curve, we came -suddenly to the edge of a great cliff overlooking -the Hudson valley. At our feet were many miles -of forest trees mantling the hills and valleys with -the brilliant coloring of Autumn foliage. We -could count a score of villages nestled peacefully -among the meadows and fields of ripened -grain. The Hudson River rolled its silver length -in the distance, while, far, far beyond us, draped -in blue, we saw the hills and mountains of -another State. Beholding what, in many respects, -was the most soul-entrancing revelation -of nature’s glory I had ever witnessed, neither -of us spoke. The moments slipped by with -slippered feet and the mid-afternoon became -evening, before either of us broke the silence. -It is sacrilegious for one to undertake to express -the holy sentiments of awe and reverence in the -clumsy garb of human speech. This is true of all -deep feeling. Standing in the presence of a<a href="#Page_115"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 115" id="Page_115"></span></a> -bereaved friend, shallow souls can chatter idle -phrases, but deep, healing, tender sympathy is -expressed in the silence of a handclasp and unspoken -word. Looking into the deep, expressive -eyes of one whom we love, our lips are silent and -only the tear-filled eye tells of the song the soul -is singing. Have you ever been able to tell your -mother how much you loved her? The real -songs of the soul are of necessity the unsung -songs.</p> - -<p>These songs are the real songs, for the soul life -is the real life. They may never be heard by -others, but you hear them, and their words never -die. They echo through the years. There is -never a moment of thoughtful meditation, never -a season of seclusion; never a period of sickness -when the things of the world are shut out and -one is left alone with the things of the soul; -never a season of disappointment, or sorrow, or -bereavement, or heartache, but that the hour is -made blessed and hallowed with the memory of -these songs, and lo, while one listens, all earth -and heaven become vibrant with music and one -is charmed and soothed with the echo of life’s -unsung songs. While exiled upon the lonely -heights of Patmos John heard a song that -thrilled the heaven of heavens, but none save -the multitude before the throne could learn the -song. That is easily understood. It was not a<a href="#Page_116"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 116" id="Page_116"></span></a> -song blending the varied experiences of earth -together into one mighty outburst of love; it -was the soul weaving all the unsung songs which -no one on earth had ever heard or could ever -understand into one great symphony with which -to praise the God of its salvation. Life’s unsung -songs shall never cease to live in earth and -heaven. Their echoes are our comfort here, our -joy forever.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_117"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 117" id="Page_117"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVII">XVII<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Modern Judases</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">The</span> story of Judas casts a dark shadow -through the sunlight of twenty centuries. His -deed was more than a betrayal of friendship. -Lady Macbeth, coming from the chamber of -death into the candlelight and beholding her -lily-white hands stained ruby red with the blood -of murdered friendship, and fearing to wash -them, lest the ocean’s flood should tell to every -rock-bound coast the blushing secret of her guilt, -was not half so bad as Judas. This deed was -more than the betrayal of friendship; it was the -dark hand of villainy, reaching from behind the -dark curtains of selfishness, that with the keen -blade of greed he might pierce the unprotected -breast of innocence. It was a tragedy that, with -each decade’s growth in love, becomes more -atrocious in the eyes of men.</p> - -<p>Named after Judas Maccabæus, one of the -most illustrious characters of Jewish history, -good enough and gifted enough to be chosen as -a disciple, and possessing such integrity of character -that he was chosen treasurer of the group, -Judas began his public career auspiciously. For<a href="#Page_118"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 118" id="Page_118"></span></a> -three years he had been associated with Christ -in the most intimate manner. He had entered -cities and passed through country places, -preaching and performing miracles, until returning -with radiant face he said with the other -disciples, “Even the devils are subject unto us.” -Having been lifted out of his old self, he rejoiced -in the delights of noble living. Within a few -weeks he would have been able to stand -with Peter at Pentecost and take his place -among the world’s beloved immortals. Then -came the awakening. He had followed Christ -through the fragrant fields of the Beatitudes and -under the clear sky of the Sermon on the Mount; -he had seen Christ, at the sacrifice of rest and -comfort, change barren lives into beauty, as the -sun adorns barren branches with clustered fruit; -and now, as his life was approaching the crisis, -Judas could see where the road was leading, and -he became frightened. He saw that the end of -the Christ-journey was not toward worldly -triumph, but toward sorrow, not to a palace, -but a bleak mountainside, not toward a throne, -but a cross; and he began to think of himself. -“What shall I do?” Like one facing a panic he -stood petrified with terror. Seeing the investment -of three long years trembling in the balance, -he did not think it businesslike to follow -Christ any further. His love for money so<a href="#Page_119"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 119" id="Page_119"></span></a> -blinded his eyes that he could not see the moral -grandeur of Christ’s program. Angered and disappointed, -he deserted his post, sought the -seclusion of the night-time shadows to complete -his plans. Well does the inspired writer add, -“And it was night.” Of course it was night; -dark, starless, moonless night, for he had -allowed his love for money to eclipse the Light -of Life.</p> - -<p>From then on there was only one light attractive -to Judas, and that was the luring light -of avarice and greed. Seeking for it, he found it. -Like the red fires of hell it burst into flaming -stream from the high priest’s windows, where -Arrogance and Lust for Power were plotting -against the innocent. Rushing toward it, out of -breath, his hands clutching his garments, his -brow wet with perspiration, his eyes staring -madly with greed for gold, he demanded: -“What will you give me?” Shrewd and crafty, -these unscrupulous leaders of men knew that the -language of love and friendship could not be -understood by this grasper of gain; so they used -the only language he could now understand and -wanted to hear—the language of the market -place; and “they promised him money.”</p> - -<p>This is one of the darkest pictures in history, -its black shadow reaching through the centuries, -but it does not hang alone in the galleries of<a href="#Page_120"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 120" id="Page_120"></span></a> -death. There are others still making the awful -bargain of Judas, and gladly sacrificing the -innocent for the sake of financial gain.</p> - -<p>Behold the unscrupulous real-estate dealers -who force houses of immoral character into -clean, residential sections of cities, betraying the -cause of righteousness, injuring homes, and -damning the souls of hundreds. Because immorality -promises a more handsome and immediate -return for the investment they become -partners in the exploiting of sin and crime. As -Judas went into the quietude of the Mount of -Olives and brought wreck and ruin, so these men -insidiously lead marauding bands of immoral -workers into the best communities, well knowing -that their deed means the betrayal of youth and -maiden, but refusing to give it a thought, their -attention fixed only on the increasing volume of -business. The good name of a city or community, -the value of innocence, and the sanctity -of the home are nothing to these modern -Judases.</p> - -<p>Behold the employers of child labor, who, -under the disguise of charitably giving employment -to the poor, are reaping revenues that -provide them with luxuries at the cost of blasted -lives. Many of our shops, stores, and factories -are but presses where the life, hope, vigor, and -vision of childhood are crushed out in order to<a href="#Page_121"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 121" id="Page_121"></span></a> -fill to the brim the intoxicating cup of extravagance -for people whose own lives are too foul -and unfit to be used as grapes in their own -presses. Daily the bright-faced boys and girls, -the hope of the nation, are crowded out of the -public school into the vats. Hour by hour their -lives are pressed out until, broken in body, -dwarfed in intellect, incapacitated for works of -social service, falling far short of the requirements -made upon their later years, they are -thrown aside as useless pomace. The uncontrollable -spirit of greed that places money above -the value of life and happiness and goodness is -the spirit of Judas.</p> - -<p>Behold the owners of tenement houses, those -breeding places of filth and sin, where little children -are compelled to live and die, or live and -curse the world. Their only memories of childhood -will be those of the crowded alley, foul -hallways, and darkened corners in which they -hide in fear. The memory of a mother’s face will -be vague, ever hidden in the darkness and gloom -in which she spent her days. Why do they not -have fresh air? Greed. Why do they not have -fresh water to drink? Greed. Why do their -buildings not have good sanitation? Greed. -Modern Judases are they all.</p> - -<p>Behold the men who are commercializing -amusements. Men and women need recreation,<a href="#Page_122"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 122" id="Page_122"></span></a> -and children must have places to play. The -human body is not made of harder material than -the locomotive, that requires rest between its -trips, or, growing tired, refuses to carry its load. -Therefore it is necessary to have places of -recreation and exercise. But where shall the -children go? The best bathing beaches of ocean, -lake, and river bank are owned by money-making -syndicates, and the people are compelled -to pay for privileges which are their own by the -right of birth and citizenship. More than this, -since money is the objective, and the people -must patronize their places, having no other -places to go, they offend decency by catering to -the coarse and vulgar element of the community, -thus becoming places of moral contamination -instead of places of recreation. This is also true -of our theaters, moving picture houses, and -amusement parks. That which is presented is -very often so uncouth that modesty must hide -her face.</p> - -<p>The deadening influence of the modern -movies, their teachings of sex and treatment of -marriage, is clearly shown in their effect upon -the actors and actresses themselves. They have -enacted these parts so often, and lived in the -atmosphere where these things are discussed as -the predominating tastes of the people, that the -unnatural teachings have become their conceptions<a href="#Page_123"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 123" id="Page_123"></span></a> -of real life until the story of their divorces -and remarriages has scandalized all decent society. -Beside the colonies of moving picture -celebrities, Salt Lake City and other Mormon -strongholds seem quite tame. If the moving -picture has such a demoralizing influence over -the actors and actresses, who are matured men -and women, what will be the effect upon the -growing generations? Already the atmosphere -of school and playground is vitiated. The evil -effects are already manifest to every conscientious -Christian social worker. To silence the -protests of a righteous guarding of the morals of -the young, the moving picture corporations have -set aside large amounts to prevent the needed -legislation regulating censorship.</p> - -<p>The work of these modern Judases does not -end here, but they insist upon the prostitution -of the Sabbath day for their ungodly enterprises. -For the sake of making money they are endeavoring -to lead America in the same direction -Europe has been traveling, and to the same -tragic fate. Childhood and the Christian Sabbath -are being desecrated every hour by these -Judases whose one question in life is, “What -will you give me?”</p> - -<p>It is time for an aroused citizenship to enter -protest against these evils. We cannot prevent -Judas from having base desires, nor giving his<a href="#Page_124"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 124" id="Page_124"></span></a> -traitorous kiss, but we can compel Pilate, the -officer, to render righteous judgment. Jesus was -crucified, not because Judas kissed him, but -because Pilate was a moral coward. Pilate -washed his hands, declaring himself “innocent,” -but every man in the mob knew that he was -guilty. We cannot prevent Judas betraying, but -we can create public sentiment which will compel -officers to reach protecting hand against the -greed of our modern Judases.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_125"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 125" id="Page_125"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVIII">XVIII<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Adjustable Universe</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">That</span> God should adjust a universe so that all -of its forces and energies should be at the instant -disposal of those who, through obedience to his -laws, lay claim to them, should not seem strange -when we realize how perfectly we are now -adjusting our mechanical and social conditions -to meet the hourly needs of the body. The water -supply of many of our large cities is pumped and -propelled by what is known as the Holly Engine. -Its regulation is perfectly automatic. Without -any apparent cause, there is a constant change -in the amount of steam produced. The engineer -busies himself by oiling the bearings and polishing -the shafts, but seems utterly indifferent to -the pressure of the steam as it relates itself to -the varying demands of the great city. The fact -is that the engineer does not need to concern -himself with the regulating of the engine, for the -people of the city regulate it for themselves.</p> - -<p>Whenever a faucet is opened the draft in the -engine is correspondingly opened, the fires burn -brighter, the steam is increased, and the action -of the pumps instantly accelerated. The larger<a href="#Page_126"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 126" id="Page_126"></span></a> -the quantity of water needed, the wider the -drafts, the stronger the fires, the greater the -pressure of steam, the more active the huge -pumps that labor to meet the increased demand. -Quickly close the faucets, stop the outlet of -water entirely, and the pumps will become inactive. -So perfect is this adjustment that the -smallest child, many miles away, may change -the speed of the engine at will. It is designed to -meet the needs of every person in the city, -whether it be but a cup of water to moisten the -fevered lips of a little child or great streams with -which to fight the mighty conflagrations that -threaten the life of the city.</p> - -<p>If man, out of common ore which he digs -from the hills, can build machinery to meet the -varying need of his fellow man, should it seem -such an incredible thing that God, who made -the human soul, could, out of his unlimited, unmeasured -spiritual forces, arrange to instantly -meet the need of every human soul? God can -and God does. The fact is that the whole -universe is so arranged. There is not a need of -the soul of man that cannot be immediately -satisfied, if one puts himself in obedient touch -with the fixed spiritual laws that control the -required forces, as, for the thirsty lips, we intelligently -reach out, turn the faucet, and draw the -cup of water.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_127"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 127" id="Page_127"></span></a></p> - -<p>It is at this point that the learned individual -who loudly praises himself upon being a practical -observer of life, takes most positive exceptions -and insists that the weakness of the Church -is this very insistence upon what, to him, seems -the miraculous. He has not been able to observe -that the strength of the Church is her belief in -the laws governing prayer, compliance with -which instantly brings all the Infinite resources -of the sky to meet and fully satisfy the needs of -the soul. The fault is not in God’s method of -procedure, but in the narrow prejudices which -the critic mistakes for the laws of logic. Let us -consider the laws governing prayer as revealed -in an old-time incident.</p> - -<p>Her eyes red with weeping, and her face -deeply drawn with sorrow, a lonely woman was -pleading with Elisha for help. Out from dark -shadows, she was journeying toward deeper -gloom. She had just buried her husband, on the -morrow she must journey to the auction block -where her two sons, her only means of support, -were to be sold into slavery, to meet the debts -of her dead husband. She was helpless and -heart-broken in her poverty. “What shall I do -for thee? What hast thou in the house?” asked -the solicitous prophet. “Thy handmaiden hath -not anything in the house save”—and she -faltered—“save a pot of ointment.” All her<a href="#Page_128"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 128" id="Page_128"></span></a> -furniture and cooking utensils had been sold to -help meet her financial obligations. There was -only one thing left, and that was the jar of -ointment which every Jewish person kept for -the anointing of the dead. This was never disposed -of. Then came the command, “Borrow -empty vessels, and borrow not a few.”</p> - -<p>The two boys were set to work. The novelty -of the situation whetted their curiosity and -ambition and it was not long until the mother -announced that there were enough vessels and -that the doors and windows should be tightly -closed. Then, with trembling fingers, she opened -the little jar and began to empty its contents -into the larger vessels. Three smiling faces bent -over the open mouths of the jars, when, to their -wonderment, the little jar had filled every one -of the larger ones. Now there was no need of -worry. The prayer had been answered. The sale -of the oil would more than meet all the demands -of the creditors. It was wonderful, but natural.</p> - -<p>Prayer is answered only according to the law -of continuity. There were more than a -thousand ways in which God could have come -to the relief of the widow. The prophet’s touch -could have filled the empty vessels to overflowing, -as once a prophet’s touch melted granite -rock into crystal streams of water; his touch -could have filled the hut with abounding wealth;<a href="#Page_129"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 129" id="Page_129"></span></a> -common dust might have gleamed as jewels; -unexpected gifts might have been poured forth -as rain; but they did not. God meets the -emergencies of life through the law of continuity. -The way of increase is always yielding what we -have to the workings of higher laws. The small -cruse held the secret of the overflowing jars. -Hunger comes and God asks, “What hast thou?” -and the husbandman answers, “Thy servant -hath not anything save a handful of grain.” -Then comes the command, “Take it to the well-plowed -field, and pour it out.” He does so, and -the field overflows with harvest. For the vine -that man plants God gives the purple clusters; -for the seed he sows God gives a loaf of bread. -Like always produces like, and in prayer is followed -the law of increase. What you have saved -from what you have already owned, determines -the nature of God’s answer to your petitions. If -your heart hungers for sympathy, take the -cruse of sympathy and pour it into the empty -vessel of another’s life. The world yields no -sympathy to the unsympathetic, but never fails -to return with increase each expression of tender -solicitude. If you pray for comforting power to -heal an old wound, take whatever power of comfort -you possess, and begin to minister to hearts -that break. You will find increase that will fill -every empty vessel of your heart, and gladness<a href="#Page_130"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 130" id="Page_130"></span></a> -shall take the place of sorrow. If you are praying -for financial aid, consecrate whatever strength -of brain and muscle you possess to hard, clean -work, and the return will richly recompense you. -If you are asking God to make you of service to -the world, pour out your life into the empty ones -about you, and your petition will be granted. -This is the law of spiritual adjustment. Along -the lines of your own individuality will God prepare -you for the larger task to-morrow.</p> - -<p>We must also remember that the increase is -determined, not by divine limitations, but by -our own capacity. The command to the widow -was, “Borrow empty vessels, and borrow <em>not a -few</em>.” God placed no limitations, but, rather, -gave urgent command to plan for large things. -She could have borrowed a thousand empty -vessels and a thousand vessels would have been -filled. Her blessing was determined the moment -she said to the boys who were securing the jars -from the excited neighbors, “That is enough, -you need not borrow more.” That moment she -determined the amount of answer her prayers -would receive. The oil ceased to flow when she -had reached the limit of her preparation. What -a tremendous truth! Our growth and spiritual -attainments are unlimited so far as God is concerned. -The possibility of development is unlimited -so far as this world is concerned, for<a href="#Page_131"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 131" id="Page_131"></span></a> -empty vessels and empty hearts are everywhere. -Our growth is limited only by the breadth of our -sympathies and the scope of our interests.</p> - -<p>Borrow empty vessels, and <em>borrow not a few</em>. -What a challenge to the church of the living -God! Begin to think and plan in big terms. -“<em>Not a few.</em>” These are the words of One who -thinks in numbers large enough to include all the -grains of sand in all the oceans and all the stars -of the universe. Count the forest leaves and the -grass-blades and raindrops, and then ask yourself -what God means when he says “<em>not a few</em>.” -May the Christ of social service show the church -of to-day that her power is limited only by her -vision of her opportunity.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_132"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 132" id="Page_132"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIX">XIX<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Seeing Love</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">The</span> value of life is measured by the power of -vision. The savage, tramping the diamond -beneath his feet, and clinging to tooth and claw -of the wild animals he has slain, represents a -very narrow, restricted life, for he possessed a -narrow vision. Beholding fruit-bearing trees, he -saw only the crab and wild cherry of bitter taste. -Looking across the open fields, he saw only the -wind-tossed, tangled grass whose matted meshes -made slow his travel. Along the wayside he saw -only the daisy, and the thorn-mass of the wild -rose bush forming a convenient place in which -to hide while making observations. Because in -the crab he could not see the possibilities of the -Northern Spy, and because in the wild cherry -he could not see the luscious Oxheart, his travel -lacked refreshing fruit. Because in the tangled -grass he could not see the gleaming gold of -ripened grain, he had no food in time of famine. -Because the weedlike daisy did not suggest the -chrysanthemum, and the wild rose foretell the -American Beauty, his pathway was commonplace.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_133"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 133" id="Page_133"></span></a></p> - -<p>Following the savage came those of wider -vision, and soon the fields assumed the golden -vesture of the ripened harvests, the hillsides -became rich with luscious fruit, and life’s pathway -was fringed with beauty.</p> - -<p>Each individual makes his own universe, -using only, out of the vastness of God’s provision, -such things as he has eyes to see. In the -broad, open, western plains, with far-extending -horizon and translucent sky bedecked with bits -of light to lure the seeing soul to heights heroic, -lives one whose universe is no wider than his -daily task, and whose zenith has never ascended -above his hat-crown. Careless in observation, -his universe is scarcely larger than the dug-out -in which he crawls at night to sleep. Dwelling -in a dark room of the crowded tenement, bound -by the cords of sickness to a sufferer’s bed of -pain, lies one who knows nothing of the majesty -of wind-swept fields, or vastness of the star-lit -sky, but whose careful observations have made -a zenith high enough to overarch the throne of -God, and a horizon wide enough to include -every need of the human soul.</p> - -<p>The richness of life depends largely upon how -many of the things of life which ordinary people -call commonplace can be crowded into the -range of vision. The man possessing most of -earth is not necessarily a landowner, but he who,<a href="#Page_134"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 134" id="Page_134"></span></a> -whether rich or poor, learns to observe and -appreciate the things about him. Christ never -owned a foot of land. Standing in the dusty -highway, worn and weary by countless deeds of -sacrificial love, he exclaimed: “The foxes have -holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but -the Son of man has not where to lay his head.” -He was poverty-stricken, yet, in all the history -of the world, never was one so rich as he. For -him every lily held a golden casket filled with -an unmeasured wealth of inspiration. For him -the birds winged their way from heights celestial -to sing their songs of divine forethought. Each -color of the sky was a prophet proclaiming the -things of God. Speaking to his disciples, men -who would necessarily remain poor and homeless, -he said: “Blessed are the meek [those who -are not looking for thrones of authority and -power, but who, in humble state, learn to see the -divine vision], for they own the earth.”</p> - -<p style="margin-bottom:0">I know such an one. A laborer in the field, he -spends his life toiling for the one he loves, living -in a rented cottage, faring on common food, -dressing in coarse-woven garments, and yet -possessing untold wealth. With blistered feet -and sweat-washed brow, I have seen him coming -home, smiling with beaming tenderness, as he -carefully held in his calloused hand the frail, -pink petals of the first spring beauty he had<a href="#Page_135"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 135" id="Page_135"></span></a> -found blooming by his way. He never owned -anything in particular, yet there was nothing in -the universe that he did not possess and enjoy -with rapturous heart. He knows that the voice -of God is heard, not only in the roar of turbulent -cataract, or reverberating peal of the majestic -thunder, but also in the bog and quagmire.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“For in the mud and scum of things,</div> - <div class="verse">There’s always something, something sings.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p style="margin-top:0">He possesses a wealth that is indestructible. -When one gazes so intently upon a flower that -he beholds it as it really is, he has blessed the -flower with immortality and his soul with an -unfading beauty. The moment he truly beholds -it, God transplants it to his soul, where it can -never die, but live and bloom forever and forever.</p> - -<p>Christ came to enrich man’s experience by the -process of extending his range of vision, teaching -him that what meekness does for magnifying -his conception of the natural world, piety does -for the soul’s conception of the spiritual world. -“Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall -see God,” and afterwards adding, “God is love.” -As humility gives one possession of the earth, -purity gives one vision to behold the divine -mystery of love.</p> - -<p>One of the secrets of Christ’s triumphant place -in history was this vision of purity that enabled<a href="#Page_136"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 136" id="Page_136"></span></a> -him to see the redeeming goodness in the hearts -of the world’s outcasts. Christ could see love, -therefore, when the pious priests were sitting -with folded hands waiting for something to -transpire that was worthy of their attention, he -was busy in city street and country lane seeking -to save that which was lost. He could see love, -therefore when the self-righteous churchman, -through prejudice, was blind to his neighbor’s -need, he was toiling in the service of the loving -heart. Busy men and women could see nothing -in childhood, while Christ, with purity of heart, -could look down upon these little ones, and, -seeing the love that bubbles up in baby hearts to -overflow in kisses, smiles, and laughter, lifted -them to that high throne where value is measured -only in terms of love. The pious ones saw -the raving demoniac standing amid the desolations -of the tombs, and felt that he was too far -gone to help. Looking deep within this poor -man’s heart, Christ saw his innate love for home, -and never stopped until he had brought him into -subjection to his words of power, and sent him, -well and happy, to his home and family.</p> - -<p>The zealous religionists saw only evil in the -poor woman who, escaping the rough grasp of -her captors, was crouching at the feet of Christ, -fearful and ashamed to look upward. Looking -into her heart he saw less sin than love—love<a href="#Page_137"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 137" id="Page_137"></span></a> -that was deep, and pure, and changeless, as only -a woman’s love can be; therefore, instead of -killing her because of sin, he forgave her because -she loved, and then bade her go and live the -life triumphant.</p> - -<p>Men accustomed to the scenes of crucifixion -were not stirred when one of the crucified -uttered a prayer for pardon. It was a common -occurrence and put down as one of the strange -expressions of loneliness; but to Jesus it was -all important. Looking into the heart of the -dying thief, Christ saw a worth-while love for -that which was good and of finer quality, therefore -he astonished even those who knew him -best by lifting him out of sin and taking him -with him to paradise.</p> - -<p>Living triumphantly necessitates one possessing -the vision of purity, without which one cannot -see God. Mother holds the preeminent -place in every life, because her true living has -kept her vision clear, and she sees the good that -lies deep within the hearts of her children. Her -son may become an outcast in the sight of -others. Filled with iniquity, and helpless in the -terrible grasp of passion, he may have lost faith -in himself and says: “There is no hope for me.” -The world hears, and readily agrees, and says -that the young man is hopeless. But not the -mother. To mother there is always hope. Her<a href="#Page_138"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 138" id="Page_138"></span></a> -boy must not be thrown away, for he is of infinite -value. She never notices his sin; she sees -only the soul that lies hidden like a jewel beneath -the rubbish of his transgressions. Seeing -the love within his soul which others could not -see, because they lacked the necessary love to -see, her vision became the power that not only -defies but completely changes public opinion. -Because she loves much, she redeems and saves -him, and compels the community to accept him -as one who has wandered away, but has come -back to the Father’s house. Blessed are the pure -in heart, for unto them is given vision to see -good in every one, and to behold their Lord in -every event of life.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_139"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 139" id="Page_139"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XX">XX<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Dignity of Labor</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">There</span> is no liberty without toil. To enjoy -the freedom of the sunshine, the germinating -seed must lift and throw aside the clod which -outweighs it a thousandfold. Before the blossom -can unwrap its tinted petals in the sunlight -it must, with the warmth of its own healthy -growth, melt the wax that seals it in its winter -sepulcher, and with its increasing strength tear -away the rough bud-scales and hurl them to the -ground. The oriole wings its way and fills the -afternoon with song, only, after earnest effort, -it has liberated itself from the imprisoning shell.</p> - -<p>Toil is the golden key which God gave the -human race, that it might find escape from the -self-inflicted slavery of sin. “In the sweat of thy -face shalt thou eat bread” was not a curse pronounced -by an offended Deity, but Love’s -whispered secret of escape from harm. Standing -amid the wreck of a sin-torn paradise, man -looked through the open archway of these six -words—“In the sweat of thy face”—and saw -the possibilities of a world-wide Eden. Beholding -the fruit begin to fail, and the greensward<a href="#Page_140"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 140" id="Page_140"></span></a> -become tangled with brush and bramble, Fear -said: “You shall die of hunger.” “In the sweat -of thy face” revealed broad acres filled with -health-giving ripening grain and orchards -laden with luscious fruit. Beholding the lakes -become stagnant, and the river beds becoming -dry and parched, Fear said: “You shall perish -of thirst.” “In the sweat of thy face” revealed -vineyards adrip with purple wine, and desert -lands abloom with beauty because man would -learn to train the mountain streams to follow -where he led. Yea, more, “In the sweat of thy -face” opened a pathway through which Hope -ran to find salvation from the deadly power of -sin. Coming back, with face aglow, that bright -clad Angel bade man first to give his strength -in building an altar on which to offer heartfelt -thanks to God, who had made the human hand -with which to toil and rebuild paradise.</p> - -<p>Happy and fortunate is the man who learns -to do his daily stint of work with a cheerful -heart. To him shall be the joy of understanding -that the ordinary duties of life are not burdens -sent to crush him to earth, but blessings through -which he is to work out his own salvation.</p> - -<p>Behold how man’s labors have redeemed the -world from barrenness. Soft, yielding swamps -have become hard-paved streets of famous -cities, over which the unappreciative multitudes<a href="#Page_141"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 141" id="Page_141"></span></a> -walk or ride in perfect comfort. Where once the -heated winds blew the drifting sands to-day the -gentle zephyrs fan the rich, green meadows. -Where once the untrained, tangled vines broke -down the struggling tree upon which they clung, -the vineyards yield their purple clusters, and the -orchards give forth their wealth of sweet and -luscious fruit. Where once the wild weeds threw -their choking pollen to the wind, the aster, rose, -and proud chrysanthemum wave upon graceful -stems and toss their pretty petals to and fro. -Where once the savage stretched his tents of -skins, brown-stone mansions lift their open -portals in invitation to the weary sons of toil. -By the sweat of man’s brow, by the toiling -of the multitudes, we are saved from desolation -and made to dwell securely among the -gardens.</p> - -<p>Toil saves from sickness. Without the putting -forth of physical effort all men are weaklings. -To be a producer, to change the strength of -brain and muscle into that which is of value to -his fellow man, is not only necessary if he would -play his part in the great social institution of -which he finds himself a part, but it is necessary -for his own mental, physical, and spiritual salvation. -Grinding out his days in unceasing -industry, many a man curses his lot and wishes -earnestly for idleness, not knowing that toil is<a href="#Page_142"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 142" id="Page_142"></span></a> -the making of a man with strong muscles, firm -flesh, large lung capacity, and good digestion, -for toil forces the blood in rapid circulation. -Honest toil is the best tonic. When asked what -was the secret of his good health, a great statesman -responded, “Hard work.” Overfed, full of -gout, and ill humored, a certain man of ease -requested a celebrated physician to prescribe -for him. “Live upon sixpence a day, and earn -it,” was the advice. Over one half of the invalids -of the world could be almost instantly cured, if -they would concentrate their attention, and -direct all their strength, in carrying forward -some worthy enterprise. Caring for a garden is -a good preventive for consumption. Labor -means exercise, exercise means health. Common -toil is God’s prescription by which we are to -work out our salvation from many days of sickness -and depression.</p> - -<p>Labor preserves us from needless sorrow. -Imagine the condition of Adam leaving Eden -with all his faculties save that which would -enable him to concentrate his energies upon -some worth-while task—with the power to think -and ponder over the hardships of his fallen -situation; with the marvelous power of memory -to recall his faded days of gladness; with the -power of a good imagination, to paint fairer, -brighter pictures for the future, and yet without<a href="#Page_143"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 143" id="Page_143"></span></a> -the power to organize these faculties for -action, thus having no force of character with -which to achieve. Such life would be worse than -death, no matter what evils death might bring. -But through the gracious promise of the sweat-washed -brow man found surcease for sorrow in -attempting to build a better garden for himself -and little ones. There is no happiness save that -which results in using one’s strength and talents -in honest endeavor. Idleness breeds discontent, -worry, and fear. It adds a thousand pangs to -every grief and sorrow. The most unhappy and -therefore the most unfortunate people in the -world are those who have the financial resources -to sit in idleness and nurse their grief. Better -by far be the poor woman who leaves her dead, -and goes to scrub the floors of a public building, -for in her honest toil she finds a healing, comforting -touch. Toil makes one forget his grief, -soothes him with a gentle hand, and permits the -grace of God to heal the wounded soul and -broken heart.</p> - -<p>Labor is a strong tower that shields one from -the onslaughts of temptation. It is the idle hand -that Satan seeks. One half of our incarcerated -criminals owe their position to the fact that they -refused to accept the protecting power of toil to -keep them in the way of righteousness. Having -nothing to do, they fell in with evil companions.<a href="#Page_144"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 144" id="Page_144"></span></a> -Having nothing to do, they partook of questionable -amusements. Having nothing to do, -they followed the evil leading of their passions. -Having nothing to do, sin and disgrace made -them easy captives. One way of salvation is to -escape from temptation, and one of the best -ways to escape temptation is to be so busily -occupied with clean, honest, manly endeavor, -that the devil has no access to the mind with -either spoken word or secret thought. Work out -your salvation from temptation.</p> - -<p>Labor may also contribute largely to the developing -of Christian character. There would -be no backsliding in our churches if those who -profess the name of Christ would engage in his -great enterprise of saving and redeeming the -world. The growing spirit of indifference, that -is paralyzing so many of our religious activities, -could not be, had men not become idlers in the -Kingdom. Business men look upon the church -and say that it is weak because it has no program. -This is true. We lacked a program, not -because we had no program, but because we -refused to follow the one that God gave us. -The church is far from being dead. Those -who have kept true to their Divine Lord, and -have humbly, but earnestly worked his works, -have been saved from all these temptations to -sin and worldliness, and their ardor to-day is<a href="#Page_145"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 145" id="Page_145"></span></a> -brighter than on the day they first gave their -hearts to Christ.</p> - -<p>Then let us get to work. Labor cannot save -us from the penalty of sin. Nothing save the -grace of God can do that for us, but it can save -us from barren surroundings, from much of our -sickness, from the deadening influences of sorrow, -from the power of many of our most -dangerous temptations, and aid us in spiritual -development. Work with a good will. Let no -man laugh you out of its benefits. Say to the -world, “Yes, I am a laboring man.” Let no -blush come to your cheek, unless it be because -you are not a better and more earnest workman. -Labor with the knowledge that while you are -at your task you are ranked with the mightiest -and most illustrious characters of the world. -Labor adds to dignity. Hard, honest work gives -self-respect. Toil saves one from the life of a -parasite, enabling him to pay his own way, at -the same time leaving the world brighter and -richer because of his toil. The richest jewel that -ever adorned the brow of man is not in the -King’s crown. It is the beaded sweat that -stands upon the tanned forehead of an honest -laborer. Wear it with the dignity with which -a king wears his crown of gold. In the light of -God’s approving smile it will pale and make insignificant -the crown jewels of all the nations.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_146"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 146" id="Page_146"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXI">XXI<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Above the Commonplace of Sin</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">Individuality</span> is one of God’s ways of expressing -his greatness. His voice penetrates the -centuries like the sound of silver bells, but there -is never an echo. No duplicates are ever found -among the works of God’s creative power. He -gives his gifts unto the world with boundless -generosity, but through the centuries no single -gift has ever found its counterpart. Everything -coming from the hand of God is original, unique, -entirely dissimilar to anything else in the realm -of nature. No two oak leaves are alike. They -may be cut from the same pattern, so that, -no matter where you find them drifting in the -winds, you instantly recognize them, saying, -“These are oak leaves”; yet, of all the millions -of leaves that have unfolded upon branches of -the oaks of countless ages, no two have been -identical in size or form or in the delicate -tracery of the tiny veins which are as delicate as -hoarfrost, yet strong as leaden pipes.</p> - -<p>God never duplicates. The wild rose is a -simple flower, possessing but five petals, held -securely in the golden chalice of pollen-laden<a href="#Page_147"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 147" id="Page_147"></span></a> -stamens. Nothing could possibly be more liable -of duplication than this quaint flower of simple -garb, yet of all the wild-rose blooms gathered by -lovers’ hands and pressed to maidens’ lips, of all -the wild-rose blooms that grace the old-fashioned -gardens and trellis the fences of the country -roads with their picturesque, sublime simplicity, -no two are alike. God so respects the pretty -things about which human sentiment revolves -that no two are cast from the same mold. Consider -the blossom that you once kissed, and -pressing, stored away. It is hidden in a secret -place, intended for no eyes save your own, and -viewed only through the clear tears that memory -revives. Guard it with the tenderest care, for -God will never make another blossom just like it. -He respects the tender affections of your heart -that chose this blossom from a lover’s hand -to be the sweetest, fairest blossom of your -life.</p> - -<p>When a mother stoops and plucks a blossom -from her baby’s grave, covers it with mingled -tears and kisses, and puts it away between the -leaves of the family Bible, thus binding in one -cover the sweetest sentiments of this world and -the best hopes and aspirations of a better world, -she does a beautiful thing, and our heavenly -Father so honors her love and reverence for her -precious dead that, though a thousand centuries<a href="#Page_148"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 148" id="Page_148"></span></a> -come and go, he will never make another blossom -just like that.</p> - -<p>We love all mountains because of their rugged -strength and majesty, yet no two mountains are -alike, for to the mountains God has given -personality. The Rockies stand like naked -giants with knotted muscles ever ready to -grapple with storms that smite their rugged -sides, rejoicing, like strong men, at the ease with -which they break the strength of their adversary, -and hurl the whirlwind, like a helpless -zephyr, into the mighty chasms at their feet. -The Alps are like a procession of kings, bejeweled -and berobed for coronation day. To see -the Alps is to have a holiday and have one’s soul -thrilled with boyhood’s wonderment and praise. -The Catskills are a languid group of charming -country folk with whom you can sit and chat, -and feel the magic wonderment of childhood -creeping through the soul, as you listen to -quaint voices repeat their myths and legends. -No two mountains are alike, for God likes versatility -in heaped-up piles of rock as much as in -fluttering leaves and blooming flowers.</p> - -<p>No two sunsets are alike. The hanging tapestries -of the west may be woven in the same -looms of mist, and dyed in the same vats of -scarlet, purple, red, and orange; they may be -laced with the same golden strands of unraveled<a href="#Page_149"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 149" id="Page_149"></span></a> -sunbeams; and their drapery may reveal the -self-same angel touch, yet no two sunsets are -alike, each having its own individuality, and -living forever as a master painting to beautify -the walls of memory. Well do youth and maiden -stand with clasped hands as they face the sunset. -Let them feast upon its gorgeous beauty -until their hearts are filled with light and love, -for they shall never see another sunset just like -that. Returning to the valley’s old familiar -paths, where they shall walk together amid their -mingled lights and shades, they shall rejoice -through many years because of the brilliancy of -that one sunset which God made for them, and -for them alone.</p> - -<p>This love for originality is seen in the play of -the wild waves’ crest whose molten silver falls -into beads and necklaces and pendants of unequaled -workmanship to fill the unseen jewel -caskets of the deep.</p> - -<p>What is true of the natural world is also true -of man. Consider the variations of the human -face. Reflecting upon the limited number of -features, one is amazed to think that such an -infinite combination of facial forms and expressions -can be created. There are only two eyes, -two ears, one nose and one mouth, and yet -out of that small combination, behold what God -hath wrought! From the soft, pink rosebud of<a href="#Page_150"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 150" id="Page_150"></span></a> -a baby’s smiling face, looking with wistful -wonderment at a newly found world; through -all the charming sweetness of maiden’s cheek -and love-laden eyes; through all the grandeur -of the hero’s chiseled features; through the glory -of motherhood smiling affectionately upon her -little brood; through manhood making battle -for home and righteousness—through all these -until, at last, you behold the unequaled beauty, -majesty, grandeur, and dignity of old age, no -two countenances are alike.</p> - -<p>The glory of God is revealed through individuality. -No two persons are alike in form or -feature, gift or grace. No two minds have -exactly the same characteristics. No two souls -look upon life from identical viewpoint, so that -each one varies in his conception of events and -expression of art and letters. A king wears the -crown of his predecessor, but for each brow God -has fashioned the fairer crown of individuality. -Men, as God made them, are not pegs to be -placed in holes, but kings, to sit upon thrones -and rule kingdoms all their own. “Before I -formed thee in the belly I knew thee,” are the -words of Jehovah when he wished to impress -Jeremiah with the infinite care with which he -had been prepared for a noble work.</p> - -<p>To endeavor to reshape this divinely appointed -life and mold it after an earthly, man-made<a href="#Page_151"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 151" id="Page_151"></span></a> -pattern is the height of folly, yet this is -the demand of very much of our modern social -life. Society employs a system of repression, -the subduing and crushing of deep emotions, and -substituting a shallow artificiality. It curbs all -naturalness in development and demands a conformity -to certain rigid molds in which every -word, gesture, thought, and impulse must be -cast. Instead of employing the art of expression, -permitting the deep feelings to find normal -outlet, and allowing the salutary unfolding of -individual strength and grace, they check and -curb and repress until the beauty and normalcy -of life is gone. Our present system of society -custom and usages cannot produce great character.</p> - -<p>Failing to recognize individuality as the -universal plan, many educators mistake their -function, endeavoring to mold men according to -their conceptions rather than instructing men. -Instead of leading the mind away from the -narrow cloister of tradition, form, and ceremonialism, -into the open air where it can function -normally, and unfold its strength and -beauty in perfect individualism, many intellectual -leaders continue the practice of pitilessly -dwarfing minds and stunting souls.</p> - -<p>Sin also leads to the commonplace. Realizing -that man’s strength lies in developing those<a href="#Page_152"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 152" id="Page_152"></span></a> -characteristics that mark personality, the arch -enemy of the soul is ever endeavoring to destroy -them. He tempts to sin, knowing well that there -is no other agency so powerful in destroying -individuality. Sin never lifts men upward toward -lofty heights but always levels downward. -It knows no royalty of character, so it tears -down thrones, casts man’s crown aside, blurs the -eye, palsies the nerve, blotches the countenance, -deadens the brain, hardens the heart, and makes -its victim a member of the common herd. Sin -is not error; it is poison that stunts the growing -aspirations, dwarfs the spiritual nature, lowers -spiritual vitality, and completely destroys all -the royal gifts of God that would distinguish one -in character and achievement.</p> - -<p>Therefore righteousness must be preached as -never before. Only through virtue can one lift -himself above the commonplace and his individuality -reach its maximum power. Wrongdoing -destroys while right living makes possible the -complete development of all the noble faculties -of the soul, permitting one to experience the -fullest possible realization of life. Men must not -be repressed by the foolish processes of a misguided -social, educational, or evil custom. -Righteousness must be preached that youth may -know the freedom of goodness and the joy of -righteousness. As birds greet the dawn, by<a href="#Page_153"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 153" id="Page_153"></span></a> -rising on rapturous wing and filling the blue with -exultant song, let youth and maiden greet the -coming day with gladness as they rise above the -commonplace of sin. The Divine plan for their -lives must not be marred by sin or foolishness. -The uniqueness and originality of God’s plan -are the secrets of success. The joys of righteousness -are too valuable to exchange for the misery -and heartache of a wasted life.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_154"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 154" id="Page_154"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXII">XXII<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Investment of a Life</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">The</span> problem of investment provides much of -the romance as well as the tragedy of life. The -fascination of expending one’s energies or possessions -in legitimate undertakings holds all men -spellbound, whether it be the peasant investing -in seed for the coming harvest, the newsboy -buying his bundle of papers for the evening -trade, or the merchant purchasing wares against -the changing styles and fitful customs. The -investment proving good furnishes the joy and -romance of existence. The investment proving -bad causes the tragedy that shatters the brain, -breaks the heart, smolders the homefires, and -sends multitudes reeling and cursing into the -darkness.</p> - -<p>All men are investors. Some of them invest -their brain. Finding that God has honored them -with an intellect capable of development, they -have closely applied themselves to study and -research, until the meanest flower enlarges itself -into an Eden where each petal vein becomes a -winding pathway leading to fountains of nectar -that ever sport and play amid the golden pillars<a href="#Page_155"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 155" id="Page_155"></span></a> -and tapestry of stamen and pollen. They study -until oak trees become mighty ships, iron -fashions itself into sky-scrapers, forked lightning -becomes a servant of the humblest child, sunbeams -become physicians, stars become pilots, -and the sky a playground in which the mind -leaps from world to world and wheeling constellation -to wheeling constellation. Very rich -indeed are the dividends coming to him who -invests his brain against the world’s ignorance -and mysteries.</p> - -<p>All men are investors. Some men invest their -bodies. They bend their back to the burden -until the blood vessels stand out upon their -temples like silken nets. They give the strength -of their arms to the hammer and drill until the -flinty cliff becomes broad highways beneath -their feet. They toil until mountains become -winding corridors leading to chests of silver; -valleys bloom with harvests, and frail cocoons -become silken robes. They toil, earning dividends -of daily bread, a happy home, and the -consciousness that the world is better for their -toil.</p> - -<p>All men are investors. Æsthetic in temperament, -some invest a love for the beautiful. They -find rhythm in swaying tree branch, harmony in -the moving of winds, music in chirp of crickets, -symphonies in the carol of birds, poetry in<a href="#Page_156"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 156" id="Page_156"></span></a> -gleaming lights upon the water, visions of glory -in the morning and evening sky. They adorn -our cities with temples, fill our homes with immortal -songs, transform white marble into immortal -shapes, and fill our galleries with visions -of sunsets that never fade, trees whose leaves are -never driven by the November winds, children -who never grow up, and family circles unbroken -by death. Dividends surpassing belief belong -to these true and faithful lovers of the beautiful.</p> - -<p>All men are investors. Some men invest their -gift for business. They concentrate their -energies on the art of trade until gigantic ships -cut the ocean waves, steel rails join nations and -continents, wire threads bind home to home, -keeping each ear within instant reach of loved -one’s voice, refrigerator cars that bring the fruit -of the tropics to the Christmas table, and means -of transportation that finds a world-wide sale -for the handiwork of the humblest toiler. All -honor to such men! Nations do not coin currency -for business. Business is the mint whose -products fill the coffers of the nations.</p> - -<p>All men are investors. Some invest their -heart’s affections upon things divine. Their ears -are closed to evil and they know not concerning -things that blight and blast, scorch and consume -the soul. Their eyes are closed to the -suggestive, therefore evil finds no lighted pathway<a href="#Page_157"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 157" id="Page_157"></span></a> -to their imagination. Their hands are held -firmly and will not touch that which contaminates. -Their lives are like unto that of the -Lord Jesus, and therefore they are the children -of freedom. Their words drop like the dew, each -crystal drop reflecting the heavens toward which -they journey. Their smiles are like unto sunbeams -upon harvest fields, making the grain -sweeter of kernel and more golden of husk. -Their voices melt with tenderness as ripe -grapes drip wine. Their opinions are permeated -with charity as ripe fruit is filled with fragrance. -Their coming is like that of a messenger from a -friendly king.</p> - -<p>Each man is an investor, whether he invests -his intellect for education, his body for physical -betterment, his æsthetic nature for art, his business -sagacity for prosperity, his heart for the -fellowship of God, receiving benefits and meeting -his honest obligations to the world. Honesty -demands that each individual should be such an -investor, investing himself and all that he -possesses, for he who refuses to do so robs his -fellow man. For such hell is a moral necessity. -He who refuses to yield himself to the plan of -God must not be disappointed when he finds -himself outside of God’s plan for his happiness -and welfare.</p> - -<p>There are no safety deposit vaults for God’s<a href="#Page_158"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 158" id="Page_158"></span></a> -gifts to man. When times of financial panic -come, frightened and panic-smitten men withdraw -their currency from circulation, store it -away in a vault, thus hastening the national -disaster. Panics come when men refuse to -invest. In an hour like the present, when moral -forces are facing a panic, when organized forces -for evil are using every possible unprincipled -means and method to press righteousness to the -wall, no man has any right whatever to withdraw -and hide his talent. Every lover of truth, -every believer in immortality, should give the -best he has, every faculty and talent, the widest -possible circulation. Invest, and invest heavily, -is the order from on high. Invest in order to -restore confidence to the people of God. Let -them feel encouragement by seeing that the very -best you have is at the disposal of all mankind. -Refusing to do so makes one a miser deserving -of nothing save the curse of man. Upon the -wholeness of the investment depends one’s -destiny on the Day of Judgment. To the one -who, by investment, has increased his talent, -God says: “Well done, good and faithful -servant, enter into joy.” To the one who refuses -to make investment of his life, he says: “Take -away that which he hath.” The Judgment -hinges on the problem of investment.</p> - -<p>That we make not fatal mistake let us remember<a href="#Page_159"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 159" id="Page_159"></span></a> -that no talent is properly invested unless -done so with a reverent purpose. Talents may -be invested aimlessly and without results. To -bring paying dividends the investment must be -backed by a life having a noble purpose. To -illustrate, if you were compelled to sum up your -entire life in one sentence, what would you be -able to say of yourself? What one predominant -characteristic do you recognize as being the -index of your life? You reply, “I am a student.” -Is that all you can say? You have invested -brains, are an educated man, but is that all?</p> - -<p>Unless you have applied your intellect to -successfully solving some problem for those who, -denied your blessings, are ignorant and superstitious, -your knowledge is valueless and will be -buried with you. You may be a toiler, but unless -you have tugged away and lifted, with all your -might, at the world’s burdens, your strength will -go with you to the grave. If your investment of -the æsthetic does not make the world more -beautiful, it is valueless. Are you successful in -business? Is that all that can be said? You -may be worth many millions of dollars, but if -your gold has never gleamed in true philanthropy -it will crumble into dust with your body. -You may be good, but unless your goodness -expresses itself in sacrificial service, it is worthless.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_160"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 160" id="Page_160"></span></a></p> - -<p>That which is enduring demands, not the -investment of talents alone, but the investment -of the whole life. To give your talents indifferently -marks you, not as an investor, but as a -spender, and anyone can spend money, especially -inherited money. To make an investment -demands a whole life centered upon one holy -and noble purpose, for which one spares neither -toil nor sacrifice, energy nor time, until the -united efforts become permanent in the world -and forever identify your name with that noble -purpose. To invest wisely is to endow one’s -name until it stands out the rich embodiment of -some worthy purpose, as the name “Dante” -stands for poetry, the name “Abraham Lincoln” -stands for the emancipation of the slaves, the -name “Garibaldi” stands for liberty, the names -of Peabody and Shaftesbury stand for benevolence, -and the names of Wesley and Moody -stand for the redemption of a world.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_161"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 161" id="Page_161"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIII">XXIII<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -Thought Planting</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">There</span> is nothing more common, and seemingly -insignificant, than the planting of a garden. -There are the simple upturning of the sod, the -mellowing of the soil, and the burial of a hard-shelled -seed. Let a chemist analyze the soil, and -a scientist examine the seed, and they will be -unable to find anything signifying relationship -between the two. There is nothing, so far as the -human eye can see, to suggest that the combination -of seed and soil would be other than the -combination of stone and stubble. But when -once planted all the universe knows about the -little brown seed. The earth and the seed were -made for each other, and no sooner do they -come in proper contact than the whole universe -is set in motion about and for the development -of that buried germ. There is not a cloud floating -afar nor a star gleaming mildly in the distant -blue that does not exist for that tiny seed until, -through the ministration of sunbeam and moonlight, -shower and baptismal dew, the seed arises, -clothed in the glory of a resurrection, to lift -itself in right royal grandeur above the clod.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_162"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 162" id="Page_162"></span></a></p> - -<p>No one can explain how the inanimate can -thus become living tissue, but the sun keeps -warming its leaves with caresses, and the kindly -winds bring tribute from distant lands; and the -guarding stars keep sending their benign forces, -and the cool hand of the darkness offers its -chalice of dew, so that the seed becomes a tree, -whose nectar attracts the bees and butterflies, -and whose wide-extending branches become the -home and playground of the birds.</p> - -<p>There is nothing seemingly more insignificant -than the planting of a garden unless it be the -beginning of a good and useful life. It is simply -planting a thought in an ordinary human brain. -The wise philosopher may examine the thought -and pronounce it quite commonplace; the grammarian -may test it and say that it could be -constructed in a more exact and polished -manner; the physiologist may examine the brain -and pronounce the texture of its convolutions as -being most ordinary. There is nothing anywhere -to indicate that the combination of that particular -thought and that particular brain could -result in anything particularly extraordinary. -The possessor of the brain may feel no different -after the planting of the thought and have no -presentiment of what it shall mean to him in the -years that follow. But the whole universe knows -about the thought planting. As the stars remember<a href="#Page_163"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 163" id="Page_163"></span></a> -the buried seed, so all the divine forces of -earth and heaven are set to work about the -planted thought. Days and weeks may pass -without the world observing any appreciable -results, and it may even forget the planting. -But God has not forgotten. He is remembering -it, guarding it with divine care, and the results -will appear sooner than we think.</p> - -<p>That is the reason, I believe, that Christ took -the mustard seed for the foundation of a parable. -The seed is not only one of the smallest, being so -little that it can slip unnoticed from your grasp, -and hide within the crevice of a clod, mocking -your solicitous search, but it is of most rapid -growth. Within a fortnight it will overshadow -the garden, and before the season is ended will -tower twelve to fifteen feet in height, its sturdy -branches affording shelter, and protected nests, -for many birds. Divine thoughts within the -brain are capable of this marvelous development. -The planting may be an unattractive -thing to do; the mind itself may be as unresponsive -as the soil at the first planting of the -seed, but God has not forgotten his truth, and -all the universe is working for its fullest development. -Soon, very soon, will it manifest its -marvelous nature by rapid growth and bloom.</p> - -<p>Here is a little lass, living among the forests of -Domremy. Day by day she watches the soldiers<a href="#Page_164"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 164" id="Page_164"></span></a> -of hostile powers tramping along the dusty -highways to devastate the land she loves so -dearly. Her heart aches as she sees her people -languishing helplessly under the heavy yoke of -oppression. Standing with tear-filled eyes one -day she hears an old man say: “God will one -day raise a deliverer for the French.” Amid the -dust arising from the tramping of an invading -army a thought was planted in the mind of a -child.</p> - -<p>Here is a little girl at Ledbury, near the -Malvern Hills, sitting in her father’s dooryard, -looking at the mysterious letters of a Greek -book, whose secrets refuse to yield themselves -to her inquisitive brain. Disappointed, she -buries her face in her book and weeps, only to -be found by a kind friend who picks her up and -whispers in her ear: “There, do not cry. A little -girl can learn Greek if she tries.” The world -goes along as usual, not knowing that a new -thought has been planted, and that girls may -learn Greek as readily as do the boys.</p> - -<p>Here is a little boy, standing by a harpsichord, -watching his father’s fingers find the notes upon -the ivory keyboard. His soul is filled with -delight as he listens to the melodies that arise. -Beholding the nervous twitch of the tiny fingers -longing to earnestly and reverently touch the -music-making keys, the father bends low,<a href="#Page_165"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 165" id="Page_165"></span></a> -and says: “Be patient, son, and keep loving -your music, for some day you will be a great -musician.”</p> - -<p>Here is a little boy drawing with charcoal -upon the white walls of his mother’s kitchen, -while a precious old grandmother sits watching -the young artist. Taking him in her arms, she -said, “Do not paint to rub out, paint for -eternity.” Commonplace words uttered in a -commonplace home by a very commonplace old -lady.</p> - -<p>Here is a bright-eyed little boy kneeling at his -mother’s side to say his prayers. Having finished -his petitions, the Christian mother says, encouragingly, -as she strokes his head, “Only be -good, my precious boy, and God will use you to -help the thousands.”</p> - -<p>We have seen these five persons putting -ordinary thoughts in what seem to be ordinary -brains. These five children felt no enraptured -thrill, the ones who sowed the thoughts did not -remember the day. But all the universe of -spiritual power knew about the planting, and -consequently the seeds grew. Watch the little -girl among the forests of Domremy, leaning -against the trees, buried in thought, and listening -to the voices that ever speak of redeeming -France. Watch the little girl bending over her -Greek book, day after day, finding the key that<a href="#Page_166"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 166" id="Page_166"></span></a> -unlocks the beauty of Homer and Thucydides. -Watch the little lad sitting past the midnight -hour, his long curls falling in rich folds about -his face as he bends over the harpsichord -awakening the slumbering strings. Watch the -little lad gathering clays of various colors and -grinding them into paint, which shall, at the -touch of his brush, awaken angels upon the -canvas. Watch the little lad who learned to -pray at his mother’s knee, gathering the -students of Oxford about him to spend the -evening hour in prayer. God has not forgotten -the good thoughts sown in the days gone by, and -all the spiritual forces of the heavens are working -for their most complete development. Soon -the little lass of Domremy, obedient to the call -of the voices, mounts her charger and compels -King Charles, the invader, to flee and give back -the government of France to her people. Soon -the little girl who studied so diligently to learn -Greek will become Mrs. Elizabeth Browning, to -make the centuries happy with the music of her -poems. Soon the little lad at the harpsichord -will become the mighty Mozart, whose music -lingers like the sweet fragrance of dew-wet -flowers. Soon will the little boy, drawing with -charcoal, begin to paint for eternity, and the -“Angelus” and “The Man with a Hoe” begin -their deathless career, as a tribute to toil, and<a href="#Page_167"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 167" id="Page_167"></span></a> -an eternal protest against oppression. Soon the -boy of Epworth and the youth of Oxford will -become John Wesley, the leader of the great -revival which swept England at a critical period -and directed her on the right track.</p> - -<p>No one can understand the mystery of the -growing seed, or the greater mystery of the -growing thought, but each individual can have -such a love for childhood and its future that he -will guard with jealous care each word that -leaves his lip, determined that in the sowing -nothing but good seed shall find lodgment in -any heart. An evil thought planted in a child’s -mind grows into a ruined life and blasted -character. Let not even the idle word be an evil -one for fear of the harvest. What an incentive to -become good husbandmen planting righteous -thoughts in the minds of childhood, looking -forward to harvests that shall never end!</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_168"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 168" id="Page_168"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIV">XXIV<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Rosary of Tears</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">God</span> meant man to be happy. The sweetest -music of this world is clear, ringing laughter. -Beside its resonance the majestic voice of the -cataract, the rolling melody of dashing billows, -the gurgling ripple of the sun-kissed streams, the -thrilling throb of the wild bird’s song, the merry -chirp of the cheerful cricket, the lyric of the -wind-tossed leaves are as nothing. Better one -sudden, spontaneous outburst of childish -laughter than all the symphonies and oratorios -of the long centuries. Nothing can equal it. It -comes with the spontaneity of a geyser, rolls -out upon the atmosphere like a volley of salutes, -thrills like martial music, its quick vibrations -making the sunbeams tinkle like silver bells. -It is contagious, causing the facial muscles of our -friends to relax and begin to run and leap into -the radiant smiles, their vocal cords to -burst into song, and the whole world becomes a -better and happier place for all mankind.</p> - -<p>As the sunshine makes battle with shadows, -so men and women should wage warfare with -everything that depresses. Children have a right<a href="#Page_169"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 169" id="Page_169"></span></a> -to laugh, and youth has a right to rejoice in the -morning light of life that floods the pathway -with the bright and brilliant colorings of hope. -We must not be too exacting with others, -neither must we endeavor to abnormally repress -our own feelings. There is a restraint that is -not culture and a self-control that is not temperance. -Some people would be far more honest -in their dealings, and have better rating in their -own community, if they did not exercise such -an exacting self-control over their deep feelings -of honesty, justice, and brotherly love. There is -a boundless strength in emotion, therefore -laughter and happiness are absolutely essential. -Let happy hours be golden beads, which, strung -upon the silken cord of memory, will become a -rosary with which to count our prayers.</p> - -<p>Laughter is essential, because of its relationship -to tears. In the truest sense pure tears and -pure laughter are one. It requires a raindrop to -reveal the hidden beauties of the sunbeam. Beholding -the rainbow spreading its many-colored -folds over the dark shoulders of the storm cloud, -we utter exclamations of gladsome surprise. -How marvelously beautiful it is! But every sunbeam -would be a rainbow if only it had its -raindrop through which to pass. It requires -vapor to reveal the hidden depths and treasures -of the sunbeam. Tears are to laughter what<a href="#Page_170"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 170" id="Page_170"></span></a> -raindrops are to sunshine. They reveal the -deeper meaning of our joys. Without them we -should never appreciate or understand the -brighter moments. When we count each hour -of happiness as a golden bead, we must consider -each teardrop as a crystal or polished diamond, -to gleam upon the rosary of the heart.</p> - -<p>Sincerely pity the man who has lost the art -of shedding tears, for he has, through self-control, -restricted his emotions, so as to exclude -life’s best experiences. Without a tear-moistened -eye one cannot clearly comprehend the brightness -of the sky, the majesty of the sea, the -commanding splendor of the mountains, or the -wealth of gold that lies buried in every human -heart. Without tears one can never experience -the rapturous joy of truest love or holiest -patriotism. The greatness of the soul is measured -by the depth of its emotions, and the extent -of influence is determined by the readiness with -which one permits the deep emotions to shed -their glory.</p> - -<p>Herein is hidden a secret of triumphant power. -The greatest victories are won, not by gun and -cannon, but by deep emotions expressed in tear-dimmed -eyes. Great achievements are wrought -by men who can feel keenly and deeply. Behold -Garibaldi conquering a great Italian city. A -thousand soldiers, armed with rifles, and supported<a href="#Page_171"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 171" id="Page_171"></span></a> -with heavy artillery, stood ready to -oppose him. Commanding generals, with drawn -swords, stood ready to give command to fire the -moment he made his appearance. This was the -day that he had announced that he would take -the city. Hours passed and neither he nor his -army came in sight. Finally, in the afternoon, -amid a cloud of dust, a carriage is seen rapidly -nearing the city. Every eye is strained to see -its passenger, when lo, above the dust, rises the -stalwart form of the great Italian. Without gun, -sword, or protecting soldier, the great general -who has come to take the city, is standing erect -in an open carriage, his arms folded in peace. -Each defending soldier is ready to obey command, -but no command is given. In the presence -of such remarkable courage each officer is -motionless and speechless. No moment of -Italian history was more tense. Suddenly some -sympathizer shouted, “Viva la Garibaldi!” and -in an instant every weapon is dropped and -Garibaldi takes the city and holds it as his own. -The power to advance in the face of great odds, -with no weapon save a burning heart and tear-filled -eyes, has wrought more victories than -we know.</p> - -<p>To cry is not weakness, for tears are evidences -of strong character. We have always loved -Mark Twain, enjoying his travels as much as he,<a href="#Page_172"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 172" id="Page_172"></span></a> -and laughing away dreary hours with his -bubbling humor. But humor never revealed the -true man he really was. It was not until his -daughter died, and he sat all alone at home on -Christmas day, amid the unopened gifts, and -broken hopes of life, and wrote the matchless -story of her death, that the world caught glimpse -of the real Mark Twain. Beholding her lying -there so quietly, he said: “Would I call her back -to life if I could do it? I would not. If a word -would do, I would beg for strength to withhold -the word. And I would have the strength; I am -sure of it. In her loss I am almost bankrupt, and -my life is a bitterness, but I am content; for she -has been enriched with the most precious of all -gifts—that gift which makes all other gifts -mean and poor—death.” It required the teardrop -to reveal the real character of Mark Twain.</p> - -<p>While for our friends we would have nothing -but golden hours, for ourselves the rosary of -tears is the most precious treasure we possess. -None other creates such a spirit of devotion, -none other so thoroughly prepares us for conquest; -none other opens the heart to those -diviner emotions which should thrill the inner -life of all. The golden beads will become tiresome, -but the crystal rosary of tears will always -be attractive. Count over its beads. There are -the large, fast-falling tears of childhood. Tell<a href="#Page_173"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 173" id="Page_173"></span></a> -them one by one, and behold how they bring -back the holy memories and yearnings for childhood -purity and childhood faith. Hold fast -those blessed beads that were once kissed away -by a mother’s lips, but still sparkle in the light -of her precious love. There too are the glittering -tears of youthful ambitions, when the heart -burned with passion, the brain whirled with plans -for conquest, and the eyes were moist with tears -of hope. How precious those tears that have -long since ceased to flow! But they are not lost. -We still have them on our rosary when we offer -prayer, and the touching of them revives our old-time -hopes. There also are the tears of love. -The busy, all-consuming fires of worldly ambition -cannot dry them away. They gleam in the -eye every time memory presents the portrait of -that precious face. How wonderful to love -until the eyes blind with tears of ecstasy!</p> - -<p>There too are the priceless tears of sympathy. -The sight of another’s wrong or sorrow unloosed -the fountains of the deep, and your heart responded. -In order to right the wrong you gave -yourself to work of reform, and made your -influence a powerful factor in the remaking of -the world. There, gleaming more beautiful than -all, are the tears of sorrow. They were shed at -the side of the grave; they came into the eye at -the sight of an empty chair. How unbearable<a href="#Page_174"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 174" id="Page_174"></span></a> -the world until relief came in a flood of tears! -Only through tears do we find the sweetest -comfort.</p> - -<p>Thus, our devotions become more helpful -when we hold this rosary of priceless treasure. -These beads can be purchased of no merchant; -they cannot be blessed by any priest. They were -wrought in the fires of our suffering, and, because -we trusted him, they were blessed of God. -They cannot heal the soul—only God can do -that; but they help heal the soul by quickening -our memories and reviving our past experiences. -Let no one rob you of the beneficent influences -of deep feelings, whether of joy or sorrow, for we -are never so much in the spirit of prayer as when -we hold in our hands the rosary of tears.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_175"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 175" id="Page_175"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXV">XXV<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Hearthstone of the Heart</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">Speaking</span> to a young man who was about to -assume the more weighty responsibilities of religious -work and living, Paul bade him stir up -the coals of genius, and build a fire of enthusiasm -that would warm and set aglow with holy zeal -his every endeavor. “I put thee in remembrance -that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in -thee.” As the housewife stirs the living coals -out of the dead ashes of the old fireplace, and -fans them until they glow with sparkling fervor, -setting aflame the newly placed faggots, making -the room radiant with good cheer as shadows -dance along the walls and ice melts from the -frost-screened windowpanes, so out of the dead -ashes of past enthusiasm he was to stir up the -living coals of his best gifts until they snapped, -and sparkled, and burst aflame, filling the heart -with brightness, and creating an atmosphere -that would melt the ices of indifference from the -windows of his soul, and give him a clear vision -of a great wide world. Yea, as in the days of -Paul, one would take a dying torch, and placing -it to his lips, pour out his breath upon it until<a href="#Page_176"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 176" id="Page_176"></span></a> -it burst in flame, that he might have a torch of -burning fire to guide his footsteps through the -darkness of the starless midnight or to flash a -message to the people living upon the distant -hilltop, or to kindle the fireplace wood until the -cold corners of the house breathed a hearty -welcome to the tired and frozen travelers, so the -young man was to take the divine elements of -the soul, breathe upon them the breath of prayer -and devotion, until they blazed and burned and -cast abroad their helpful influence.</p> - -<p>Within each human heart, however covered -with the smothering ashes of sin, are God-made -sparks of celestial fire that long to rise on wings -of flame and make heroic battle with oppressive -darkness. There are too many lives which, -through carelessness, never burn bright, but, -like smoldering flax, slowly eat themselves away, -darkening and corrupting the very air they -should illumine. When they began the Christian -life they were radiant with hope, beaming -with enthusiasm, and flashing with chivalric -courage; but the spirit of worldliness choked -and smothered them, until now, like the dead -hearthstone of some shell-torn house upon the -battle line, they offer to a worn-out world no -hope of hospitality. To guard against this -choking of the soul, this smoldering of genius, -this reckless burning out of the priceless gifts of<a href="#Page_177"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 177" id="Page_177"></span></a> -God, Paul urges all young men to stir up these -coals and fan them into radiant and glowing -character.</p> - -<p>It is not the will of God that any life be -formal and indifferent. How much all forms of -life, plant, and animal owe to the hidden fires -within the bosom of the planet, no scientist has -been bold enough to state; but this we know -about mankind, without the inner fires of burning -thought and all-consuming zeal there is no -productivity. And no life need be cold-hearted. -For the hearthstone of every heart there are -three divine qualities that should burn with all -the intensity and fervor as in the hearts of -ancient seer and prophet.</p> - -<p>There is the quality of Faith that makes God -real. To many people God seems so far away -that it is an impossibility for him to be a very -important factor in their daily lives. He is a -sort of good-natured Generality, to whom they -may address petitions of greater or less degree -of piety, without fear of being embarrassed -by an answer. Should it be announced with -certainty that at a given time the accumulated -prayers of a twelvemonth would be -answered, fifty per cent of the people would be -afraid to face the hour. Some have prayed for -purity of heart, but if there is anything in the -world that they do not want, it is purity of<a href="#Page_178"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 178" id="Page_178"></span></a> -heart. Nothing would be more embarrassing to -carry into their haunts of enjoyment and more -difficult to explain to their companions. Others -have prayed for God to accept them as living -sacrifices, yet sainthood, to them, is as shocking -as yellow fever. I once knew a man who prayed -“Let justice rule supreme.” It is a pleasing -phrase and a consummation to be devoutly -wished for, but had it been answered in this -particular case, the man who uttered the prayer -would have gone to the penitentiary. Few -people deny the existence of a God, but many -live as though there were no God. But these are -not the real lives. The men who really live and -give a homelike feeling to the world are those -who have stirred up the embers of their faith -until they burn with an all-consuming warmth -that makes God a guest of honor. To such souls -God is marvelously real, and they rejoice to -have him dwell within. When faith once lays -hold on the Almighty no other experience is half -so real. One needs read about it in no book, -consult no priest or preacher, nor plead with -friend to lend the information, for he knows it -for himself. Sitting beside the hearthstone of a -living, flaming faith, our hands feeling the -pressure of that mighty Hand that never harms -but always serves, our souls rejoice with unmeasured -joy to realize that we are in the<a href="#Page_179"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 179" id="Page_179"></span></a> -presence of God who knows and understands, -and who not only walks the weary ways with -us, but gladly dwells within.</p> - -<p>There is the quality of hope that makes -heaven real. So long as hope burns within the -heart there is no fear of winter winds, but when -hope dies the soul dies. How gladly may old -age look over the world in which it spent the -four-seasoned life of toil! Here is the spring of -life where the daisies grew and the cowslips -scattered gold about the feet. Yonder the -harvest fields of manhood’s power in which a -bared arm of strength gathered the treasures of -the soil while right merry thoughts centered -upon a nearby cottage toward which he knelt -each time he tied a band of gold about the -garnered sheaf. Yonder the carefully planted -violets grow upon a tiny mound, bright children -of the sun making battle with the cold shadows -of a marble slab. Now the autumn time of life -fades into wintry quiet. The song of the brook -is hushed beneath ever-thickening ice, the trees -are robbed of color, the fields are trackless wastes -of snow. The four seasons of life are growing -to a close, the last afternoon is coming to its -twilight, and yet one is not sad. The fires of -hope still burn upon the hearthstone of the -heart, and fill the soul with the light of its immortal -home. Heaven is not a far-away land,<a href="#Page_180"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 180" id="Page_180"></span></a> -vague with mystery, and dim with distance, but -a place that is real and very close. We breathe -its scented air, and bathe in its golden light -while hope is burning divinely bright within our -hearts.</p> - -<p>The hope of heaven does more than offer us -compensation for the wrongs of life; it gives -man an intelligent interpretation of the things -of time. Until one believes his citizenship is in -heaven he cannot intelligently perform his daily -task. The painting that lacks perspective is a -daub; the hopeless life is dismal failure. Therefore, -as one prizes the best, he should stir up the -gift of hope until heaven is as real as home.</p> - -<p>There is the quality of love that makes the -world seem real. At the fireside of a loving -heart, one readily learns the true secrets of the -world in which he dwells. There is nothing so -potent as love to give vision to the soul, clearness -to the eye, effective service to the hand. -Then stir up the gifts of love. Build in your -heart the fires of a quenchless affection that -refuses to believe the worst, that will never give -consent that anyone has gone too far in sin for -reclamation, but ever believes that one more -touch of kindness will bring the person back to -God; a love that gladly sacrifices everything of -value in his effort to redeem that which has no -value; a love that knows no selfish interest and<a href="#Page_181"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 181" id="Page_181"></span></a> -daily seeks the welfare of another. Then will -the world cease to be hazy and fantastic, but -will be as real as the ones of your own household, -who gather each evening hour about your fireside.</p> - -<p>Let not your love for one single individual die; -it robs you of too great a joy. Warm up your -hearts by allowing the fires of faith in God, hope -of heaven, and love for all men to blaze and -burn in high, exultant flames that know not -how to die. Without it your life will be as -barren as the deserted house through which the -winter winds pass undisturbed. Make your life -homelike by keeping bright the hearthstone of -the heart.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><a href="#Page_182"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 182" id="Page_182"></span></a></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVI">XXVI<span class="chdot">.</span><br/> - -The Unoared Sea</h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="first-word">Each</span> one spends his childhood playing upon -the golden sands of an unoared sea, over which -in the after years he must find his way to shipwreck -or safe harbor.</p> - -<p>How little does childhood in its helplessness -know of life! Pleased with simple things, it -greets the world with gladness, and shouts for -very joy when finding a tinted shell or bit of -seaweed. With spades of tin it undertakes to -dig a hole “clear through the earth,” and smiles -in contemplation of a vision of the Chinese sky. -With chains of sand it undertakes to bind the -rushing waters of the tide which granite cliff and -flinty rock cannot subdue. The child undertakes -great things while he himself is not strong -enough to withstand the smallest wave, but, -leaving his unfinished task, runs homeward at -the coming of the tide. The waves roar with -laughter and the spray sparkles with merriment -as they destroy the feeble efforts of his puny -hands. Childhood knows little of the unoared -sea of life whose marvelous power of wave and<a href="#Page_183"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 183" id="Page_183"></span></a> -tide threatens to destroy all the childish and -manly efforts of his life.</p> - -<p>The desires of the sea may be fulfilled. With -youthful enthusiasm and unguarded courage he -may make fatal venture and be lost. There are -many such of wholesome soul and worthy purpose -whose most cherished hopes and plans -came to shipwreck and disaster. The seas of life -are strewn with wreckage. Yet one must not -be pessimistic and forget that the raging sea is -not omnipotent. With all its wild dashing -waves and boisterous winds it is not as strong -as that little lad may become. The weakest -child may yet be able to dig a pit large and deep -enough to bury all the swollen waves; and -build a cable of sand strong enough to bind -securely the rising and the falling tides. Some -day, over the calm and quiet waters of a perfectly -conquered sea, this tiny lad may pass into -the harbor of safety and success.</p> - -<p>Man was not made for the sea, but the sea -was made for man. Man was created with the -gift of complete dominion over all the world in -which he finds himself. Standing like a discoverer -upon the shores of his own unoared sea -of life, it is his to conquer, for each individual -faces a sea newly created, whose waves have -never been cut by the prow of any boat. No -two people sail the same sea. Each person faces<a href="#Page_184"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 184" id="Page_184"></span></a> -a life as original as it is unknown, but one that -is singularly suited to himself. Age may be -enriched with much dearly bought and valuable -experiences, and be most helpful in counseling -youth, but age can never fully understand the -child, or youth, who stands upon the sun-kissed -sands of the unoared sea of his own individual -life. The beauty and pathos of life is that each -one must solve the problem for himself.</p> - -<p>This does not mean that the training and -counseling of youth should be neglected. The -ennobling influences of a godly home with -Christian parents; the steady, guiding hand of -school and college; the inspiration of good books -and imperial thinking, as well as the soul-strengthening -forces of the church, are all of -most vital importance. They should never be -omitted from any life. These are things to which -each child has an unquestioned right. All the -forces for good, of earth and sea and sky, must -be centered upon the ambitious but ofttimes -thoughtless youth, that he may recognize and -faithfully employ the agencies created for his -service and success.</p> - -<p>The best that education can do is to help the -individual to help himself. Education is not a -compass by which to steer his craft; it is not the -rudder that determines the course; neither is it -the propelling power that drives it through the<a href="#Page_185"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 185" id="Page_185"></span></a> -waves against an adverse wind. God has made -especial provision for these equipments. The -chart is the inspired Word; the compass, a -divinely guided conscience; the rudder, a will -surrendered fully to the will of God; while the -power that propels lies in the skillful using of -two plain oars that God has placed within his -easy reach. Education is the intellectual training -that enables him to use these agencies in the -most efficient manner.</p> - -<p>Many centuries of experience and experiment -have produced no labor-saving machinery for -reaching the harbor of success. If one would -make successful voyage, he must be willing to -grasp the oars with his own hands, bend his -back to heavy strain, employing all his mental, -physical, and spiritual power to the task of -making good. It is not a joy ride or a pleasure -trip. There is a joy unspeakable in the task, but -it comes not from without but from the consciousness -within that one is winning in a moral -strife. This consciousness will be found to be -the chiefest of life’s joys. None shall excel it -this side the welcome we shall receive when -safely anchored in the presence of our God, and -even then this consciousness will be the inspiration -of the heavenly song. Life must be considered -not so much a pleasure as a struggle, -but a worthy struggle, that sends the blood<a href="#Page_186"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 186" id="Page_186"></span></a> -tingling through the veins, and builds the tissues -of a noble character.</p> - -<p>After the training in life’s fundamentals the -choosing of the oars is the most important thing. -The craft in which one sails is character, built -to weather any storm on any wind-swept sea. -The haven is God’s homeland of the soul. The -oars are varied, and the success or failure of the -voyage, the safety or shipwreck of character, -a victorious landing or sinking beneath the -waves of obscurity, depend entirely upon the -choosing of these oars by means of which his -life energies are to be directed.</p> - -<p>To this end all the educational influences of -home and school and college must be directed. -Youth must be taught the value of an intelligent -choice of the instruments through which his -powers shall flow. He must not be led by fancy -or prejudice or by the words of dishonest men -who have oars to sell. He must not choose by -the color of the paint or beauty of their decorations. -He must not listen to the honeyed words -of an evil one whose sole purpose is his destruction. -Leaving the sands of childhood and -starting voyage upon the unoared sea of life is -a moment in which all earth and heaven are -concerned, and therefore the choice of oar must -not be left to chance or fortune. He must know -that all the proffered oars are not alike, and<a href="#Page_187"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 187" id="Page_187"></span></a> -that false teachers profit from the wreckage of -the boats they set adrift. He must know that a -broken oar means a drifting boat, and that no -drifting boat can ride a storm-tossed sea. All -the difference between heaven and hell is in -that moment of decision when he picks up his -chosen oars and begins to use them as his own.</p> - -<p>There are two oars that never fail when once -grasped by a hand that is firm and true. The -first oar is called Virtue. With this oar of moral -excellency, of pure heart and clean hands, with -this oar of real integrity of character and purity -of soul, man’s energies are never wasted as he -makes battle against opposing powers. The real -sinfulness of impurity is its resultant waste of -strength. Behold the wan faces, sunken eyes, -wasted energies, emaciated forms, staggering -steps of weakness, and the uncertainty and indecision -of character, and one sees the consequences -of abusing the laws of purity. But -virtue means more than purity of body, it means -absolute cleanliness of heart and mind and -purpose.</p> - -<p>The second oar is Righteousness. Unrighteousness -is the abuse and waste of power. The -New Testament word for sin is “missing the -mark,” energy that is wasted by not being carefully -and accurately directed. To be upright in -life, free from wrong and injustice, to yield to<a href="#Page_188"><span class="pagenum" title="p. 188" id="Page_188"></span></a> -everyone his just dues, is to have a means for -directing strength and vital energy that never -fails to bring the desired result.</p> - -<p>Two oars—“Virtue,” rightness with God; -“Righteousness,” rightness with man—two oars -that have never been known to break no matter -how much a great soul bends them in his battle -with the waves. Two oars that have never yet -failed to bring the ship to harbor.</p> - -<p>This, then, is the opportunity of the church, -not to manufacture oars, but to aid youth and -maiden to choose the ones that God hath made. -They are not new inventions, but as old as God -and rugged as the Hand that made them. -Firmly grasped and resolutely employed, the -harbor is made in safety, although the voyage -be upon a hitherto unoared sea.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter transnote"> -<h2>Transcriber’s Notes</h2> - -<p><a href="#Page_157">Page 157</a>, “robs his fellowman” -changed to “robs his <ins>fellow man</ins>.”</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_173">Page 173</a>, “cannot dry them alway” -changed to “cannot dry them <ins>away</ins>.”</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_180">Page 180</a>, “does more tnan offer” -changed to “does more <ins>than</ins> offer.”</p> - -<p>Other oddities have been retained from the original printing, -as it isn’t obvious what the author intended.</p> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNFINISHED RAINBOWS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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