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Heart Talks

by Charles Wesley Naylor · English · Gutenberg #28736 · 410,815 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Heart Talks

Author: Charles Wesley Naylor


        
Release date: May 9, 2009 [eBook #28736]
                Most recently updated: June 20, 2020

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28736


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HEART TALKS ***





                               Heart Talks

                      A Volume of Confidential Talks

                     on the Problems, Privileges, and

                  Duties of the Christian Life, Designed

                          to Comfort, Encourage,

                         Strengthen and Instruct

                             by C. W. Naylor

                                   1922

                            Reprinted 1982 by

                          Faith Publishing House

                            Guthrie, Oklahoma





CONTENTS


Concerning The Author
Preface
Reprint Publisher’s Foreword (February, 1982)
Talk One. What It Means To Trust The Lord
Talk Two. The Blessing Of Dissatisfaction
Talk Three. Why I Believe The Old Book
Talk Four. He Maketh Me To Lie Down
Talk Five. Blighted Blossoms
Talk Six. Meeting The Lions
Talk Seven. Egg-Shell Christians
Talk Eight. Two Ways Of Seeing
Talk Nine. The Living Bible
Talk Ten. Heeding Intuitional Warnings
Talk Eleven. Doing Something Worth While
Talk Twelve. Home-Made Clouds
Talk Thirteen. It Pleased The Lord To Bruise Him
Talk Fourteen. Putting Clouds Over The Sun
Talk Fifteen. What Is Your Word Worth?
Talk Sixteen. How To Keep Out Of Trouble
Talk Seventeen. What The Redbird Told Me
Talk Eighteen. What Old Bill Could Not Do
Talk Nineteen. Divine And Worldly Conformity
Talk Twenty. Baptized With Fire
Talk Twenty-One. What To Do With The Devil
Talk Twenty-Two. Waiting On The Lord
Talk Twenty-Three. Three Necessary “Rations”
Talk Twenty-Four. A Retreat, Or A Rout?
Talk Twenty-Five. My Dream Message
Talk Twenty-Six. When God Withdraws Himself
Talk Twenty-Seven. What Happened To Solomon
Talk Twenty-Eight. Fighting The Good Fight Of Faith
Talk Twenty-Nine. How Are Your Ear Connections?
Talk Thirty. Fret Not Thyself
Talk Thirty-One. Being Easily Entreated
Talk Thirty-Two. Following “Whithersoever”
Talk Thirty-Three. Paul’s Persuasion
Talk Thirty-Four. In Christ And In Ephesus
Talk Thirty-Five. The Practical Side Of Religion
Talk Thirty-Six. Do You Need Patience?
Talk Thirty-Seven. Stumbling-Stones, Or Stepping-Stones?
Talk Thirty-Eight. Use What You Have
Talk Thirty-Nine. Where The Joy Is
Talk Forty. Blowing The Clouds Away
Talk Forty-One. How To Fertilize Love
Talk Forty-Two. How To Overcome Disappointment
Talk Forty-Three. The Big End Of Trouble
Talk Forty-Four. Self-Made Barriers
Talk Forty-Five. How To Work God’s Joy-Machine
Talk Forty-Six. Be Brave
Talk Forty-Seven. “But Jesus Sent Him Away” (Luke 8: 38)
Talk Forty-Eight. Getting The Kernel
Talk Forty-Nine. Two Sunsets
Talk Fifty. The Sculptor’s Work
Talk Fifty-One. The Helplessness Of The Gospel
Talk Fifty-Two. He Careth For You
Talk Fifty-Three. Three Tests Of Love
Talk Fifty-Four. Two Ways Of Rising
Talk Fifty-Five. Getting Even
Talk Fifty-Six. Do You Know Yourself?
Talk Fifty-Seven. Balkers
Talk Fifty-Eight. Sponges And Watering-Cans
Talk Fifty-Nine. The Final Retrospect
Footnotes






CONCERNING THE AUTHOR


                              [Illustration]

                               C. W. Naylor


The author of _Heart Talks_ has been peculiarly qualified for his task by
a training of the soul in the school of suffering. After thirteen years in
the ministry, as a result of an internal injury he has been compelled to
spend the last thirteen years in his bed day and night, a constant
sufferer. He has known the experience of long and intense suffering with
no hope of relief from any human source, and with no other prospect for
the future than that of remaining a helpless invalid for life and without
a means of earning a livelihood. He has learned to trust God for the
supply of his temporal needs because there was no other to trust. He has
learned to commune with God by being deprived of the opportunity of
mingling much with his fellow men.

Yet he has not lost the joy out of life. He still does what he can to
build up the kingdom of God and bless his fellow men by his words of good
cheer. He is still interested in the events of the world, and especially
in the progress of God’s work. He has demonstrated the efficacy of God’s
grace to sustain one and give joy in the very discouraging circumstances
of life. Though a firm believer in divine healing, and instrumental in the
healing of those who kneel at his bedside for prayer, yet he has not
received permanent healing, because, as he believes, this is God’s method
of developing his heart and making him more useful in helping others.

During the last five years, especially, he has contributed regularly to a
religious periodical articles on subjects similar to those in this book,
besides conducting a “Questions Answered” and information department, and
writing a number of books.

—Gospel Trumpet Company Publishers
1922 A. D.





PREFACE


Most of the miscellaneous writings of which this volume is composed
appeared originally in serial form. The widespread interest produced by
them, the hundreds of letters of appreciation, and the numerous earnest
requests for their publication in permanent form have been the moving
cause for their presentation in this volume. They cover a very wide range
of topics, are written in a popular style, and deal with phases of life
and personal experience that are all too much neglected but which every
Christian needs to understand. Each paper is complete in itself, though
all have a general relation. They are pastoral in nature and have by the
blessings of God comforted, encouraged, strengthened, and enlightened many
souls. That they may by divine help continue to be a blessing to many is
the earnest desire of the Author.

Anderson, Ind., May 14, 1920





REPRINT PUBLISHER’S FOREWORD (FEBRUARY, 1982)


This excellent volume, _Heart Talks_, by C. W. Naylor, has been out of
print many years. The cloth-bound book, from which this reprint edition
was produced, is the property of Sister Fern Stubblefield of Earlsboro,
Okla. Originally owned by the late Nellie Poulos, the book was given in
1978 to Sister Stubblefield by T. Gus Poulos, the son of deceased Nellie
Poulos.

This volume has been read by a number of saints and ministers who have
recommended that it be reprinted with a very few footnote corrections and
deletions. Therefore, we submit this book to the reading public with the
prayer that the Lord will make its contents a blessing to many precious
souls.

—Lawrence D. Pruitt
Faith Publishing House Publishers





TALK ONE. WHAT IT MEANS TO TRUST THE LORD


Throughout the Bible we are exhorted again and again to trust in the Lord.
We are warned against trusting in princes, in riches, or in ourselves; for
all such trust is vain. Trusting in the Lord is represented as being safe,
as blessed, and as producing very desirable results. In it is our hope,
our strength, our safety, and our help.

But what does trust mean? It does not mean carelessness or indifference.
Just to let things go and say, “Oh, I guess it will come out all right,”
is not trusting. Just drifting heedlessly with the tide is not trust.
Neglect is not trust. Trust is something positive. It is a real something,
not a mere happen-so or maybe-so. It is a definite attitude of soul and
mind, a realization of our own need and of God’s sufficiency. It is the
reaching out and anchoring of ourselves in God.

The soul who really trusts is not driven about by every wind. The waves
beat against him as they beat against the anchored ship, but they can not
dash him upon the rocks; for he who trusts in God is strong, because he
has the strength of God.

Trust does not mean shutting our eyes to facts. There is no such thing as
“blind faith.” Trust looks at things as they are. It sees the dangers that
threaten, and assesses them at their true value. It sees the need, and
does not try to disguise it. It sees the difficulties, and does not
discount them. But seeing all this, it looks beyond and sees God, its
all-sufficient help. It sees him greater than the needs or the dangers or
the difficulties, and it does not shrink before them.

There is no fear in trust: the two are opposites. When we really fear, we
are not fully trusting. When we trust, fear gives way to assurance. Fear
is tormenting. How many there are who are constantly agitated by fear!
They fear the devil, trials, temptations, the wind, lightning, burglars,
and a thousand other things. Their days are haunted by fear of this thing
or that. Their peace is marred and their hearts are troubled. For all
this, trust is the cure. I do not mean to say that if you trust, nothing
will ever startle you or frighten you, or that you will never feel
physical fear in time of danger; but in such times trust will bring to us
a consciousness that the Lord knows and cares, and that his helping
presence is with us.

When John Wesley was crossing the Atlantic from England to America to
become a missionary to the Indians, the ship on which he was sailing
encountered a terrible storm. It seemed that those on board would be lost.
Many were much alarmed and were in deep distress. Wesley himself was one
of this number. In the midst of the storm his attention was attracted to
some Moravians who sat calm and undisturbed by the dangers about them.
Wesley greatly wondered at their untroubled appearance. He inquired why it
was. Their reply was that they were trusting in the Lord and that they had
in their souls the consciousness of his protecting presence and care. They
felt no fear because there was nothing threatening that a Christian had
need to fear. Mr. Wesley did not have such an experience, but what he
learned from those simple-hearted people caused him to seek a similar
experience.

There is no worry in trust. When we worry about anything, we have not
committed it to God. Trust takes away the anxiety. So many people use up a
large portion of their energy in worry. There is always something
troubling them. Their days and nights are full of anxiety. Worrying
becomes a fixed habit with them. Peace and calmness and assurance find but
little room in their lives. The cure for all this is trust. Trust brings
confidence. Trust whispers to our souls that there is no cause to worry.
It tells us that God holds the helm of our vessel. It bids us to be of
good courage, assuring us that God is our refuge and strength, that our
lives and all are in his hands, and that he will work out for us the
things that are best.

O soul, stop worrying, and trust. It is so much better. If you find
yourself worrying, stop right there. Take your eyes off the things that
trouble you; look up, and keep looking up till you see God and his
infinite care for you. Remember that when you worry you are not trusting,
and that when you trust you are not worrying. Worry depresses,
discourages, and weakens. It never helps us in any way. It is always a
hindrance to us. God wants to bring into our lives a peaceful calm like
that of a summer evening. He would have us without anxiety, as care-free
as the birds or the lilies. It is trust that brings us this experience.
Will you not learn to trust? “Casting all your care on him; for he careth
for you.”

There is no murmuring in trust. When all is trusted into God’s hands, it
brings to us a feeling of satisfaction concerning God’s dealings with us.
We can sing from our hearts, “God’s way is best; I will not murmur.” When
we trust, it is easy to praise. When we trust, the heart is full of
thankful appreciation. If you are inclined to murmur, it is because you do
not trust.

There is no feeling of bitterness when things do not go as we think they
should, if we are trusting. Bitterness comes from rebellion, and there is
no rebellion in trust. Trust can always say, “Not my will, but thine, be
done.”

In trust there is peace, the peace of God which passeth understanding.
There is calm in the soul of him who trusts. There is no doubt in trust,
for doubt is swallowed up in assurance, and assurance brings calmness and
peace.

Trusting brings confidence. It permits us to see God in his true
character. It causes us to realize the greatness and tenderness of his
love. It gives us a consciousness of his might, and through it we are
sheltered under his wings. By it our enemies lose their power; our
dangers, their terrors. We have a consciousness of safety, and that brings
rest. He has said, “Ye shall find rest unto your souls.” He who trusts
finds this soul-rest. God has not given us turmoil and trouble. He has
said, “In me ye shall have peace”; and again, “My peace I give unto you.”
Are not these precious promises? Are they true in your life? God means
that they shall be. Trust will make them real to you. They never can be
real until you learn to trust. Trust is the root that upholds and
nourishes the tree of Christian life. It is trust that causes it to
blossom and to bring forth fruit, and the more fully you trust, the
greater and richer and more profuse will be the fruits of your
righteousness.

I have told you something about trust, but I now wish to speak of some
other things that belong to trust. Trust implies submission. Very often
God fails to do things for us because we do not permit him to. We want to
plan for ourselves. We want things to be done in the way that seems best
to our finite wisdom.

Too many of us are like a woman whose husband recently said that they had
often gone driving together, that their horse would sometimes become
frightened, and that when it did, his wife would also become frightened
and would almost invariably seize the lines. Thus, he would have to manage
both his wife and the horse, making his task doubly difficult.

How many of us are just like that woman! When anything threatens, we
become alarmed and try to help God. We feel that it is not safe to leave
all in his hands and let him manage the circumstances. Our failure to
submit to him often complicates matters, and it is harder for him to
manage us than it is to manage the difficulties. To trust God means to
keep our hands off the lines. It means to let him have his way and do
things as he thinks best. It may be a hard lesson to learn, but you will
hinder God until you learn it.

“It is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good
pleasure” (Phil. 2: 13). If your life is submitted to him, he will work in
you to will as well as to do. He will help do the planning as well as the
working out. He will aid you in the choosing, no less than in the doing.
If you can not submit to him thus, you have not reached the place where
you can trust. You must first learn to take your hands off yourself and
off circumstances; then trust will be natural and easy. How can you trust
him if you are not willing for him to do just as it pleases him? When you
have submitted all and he has his way fully with you, then the blessed
fruitfulness of trust will come into your life.

Trust also implies obedience. It means working with God to produce the
results. We can not sit down and fold our hands in idleness and expect
things to work themselves out. We must be workers, not shirkers. The man
who prays for a bountiful harvest but prepares no ground and plants no
seed will pray in vain. Faith and works must go together. We must permit
God to _direct_ our efforts and _command_ our efforts. We must be willing
to work when he wants us to work and in the way he wants us to work. Our
attempts to trust will amount to nothing if we are not willing to obey.
Right here is the secret of many people’s trouble; they are willing to
obey so long as the thing commanded is what they themselves would choose,
but when it is otherwise they are not so ready. Our obedience must be full
and willing, or we can not trust.

Trust implies patience. Even God can not work everything out immediately.
We are told that “ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the
will of God, ye might receive the promise” (Heb. 10: 36). So many times we
want the answers to our prayers right away. If they do not come thus, we
grow impatient and think God is not going to answer. There is no use
trying to hurry the Lord; we shall only hinder him if we do. He will not
work according to our plans, but according to his own. Time does not
matter so much to the eternal One as it does to us.

A brother once came to the altar in a meeting I helped to hold. In telling
his trouble he said, “When I want anything done, it has to be done in a
hurry.” Many other people can not be patient and wait. They want it _now_.
This is a great hindrance to their faith. The Psalmist says, “Rest in the
Lord, and wait patiently for him” (Psa. 37: 7). We are not only to wait
patiently for him to work out his purpose, but we are at the same time to
_rest_ in him. Some people can wait, but they can not rest at the same
time. They are uneasy and impatient; they want to hurry the Lord all the
time. The result usually is that their faith does not last very long. You
must add patience to your faith to make it effective. If you really trust,
you can be patient. It may not always be easy, but the more perfect your
trust, the easier it will be to be patient.

When Luther was summoned to meet the diet for trial on a charge of heresy,
his friends, fearing for his life, tried to persuade him not to go; but he
declared that he would go even if there were as many devils there as there
were tiles on the housetops. He trusted God, and that trust gave him an
unwavering courage. Three Hebrews trusted God, and the fiery furnace could
not even singe their garments. Daniel trusted God, and the hungry lions
could not touch him. Many thousands of others have trusted God with
similar results.

But trusting God is an active, positive thing. A passive submission or
surrender to circumstances is not trust. Trusting the Lord to save us
means to definitely rely on him to do it; to confidently expect that he
will do it. This leads directly to the confident trust that he does do it.
It brings the conscious assurance that it is an accomplished fact. We are
not left to doubt, to hope, or to guess; but we have a positive trust that
brings a positive result.

The same is true of sanctification. A positive faith brings a positive
experience; and so long as our faith remains positive, the experience
remains positive. It is only when faith begins to waver and doubts appear
that the experience becomes uncertain. If you will maintain a positive
faith, God will take care of your experience. Here lies the secret of
continuous victory. There may be conflicts, but faith is the foundation of
sure victory.

Trusting the Lord for healing means more than refusing to employ a
physician and to take drugs. People who do not trust God at all often
refuse to use drugs. They may at no time during their sickness really
exercise an act of faith for healing. They simply surrender to existing
conditions and hope that it will come out all right. In many such cases
nature will overcome the disease, and the person will recover. The “prayer
of faith,” however, is positive; it saves the sick; it brings healing.
Sometimes the sick person, because of the mental effects of his sickness,
is not able to exercise faith; but when he is able, faith will be an
active, positive thing with him, if the desired results are to follow.

It is safe to trust in the Lord. Isaiah says, “I will trust and not be
afraid” (Isa. 12: 2). That is the way God wants us to trust. He would have
us be confident in him. But sometimes we get to looking at circumstances,
and they loom up so threateningly before us that in spite of ourselves we
tremble and shrink before them. We believe that God will take care of us
and help us, but we can not quiet our fears. Our feelings are very much as
they are when we stand just outside the bars of the cage of a ferocious
wild beast. We know it can not reach us; we know we are safe from those
powerful teeth and claws; but still we can not help having a feeling that
we should not have were we somewhere else. When he comes to our side of
the cage, we shrink involuntarily, but still we trust the iron bars and do
not run away.

The Psalmist tells us what to do when we have such fears. “What time I am
afraid, I will trust in thee” (Psa. 56: 3). Still keep trusting. God will
not chide you for the fears you can not help, but only for those that come
from unbelief. Trust in God. It is the safest thing you have ever done;
and he will never fail you.





TALK TWO. THE BLESSING OF DISSATISFACTION


A young sister sat in a room one beautiful summer afternoon. The sound of
the birds chirping on the lawn and other noises of the out-of-doors came
in through the open window to her. There was a look of melancholy upon her
face, and her gaze rested steadily upon the floor. It was clear that she
was troubled about something. Just then a minister entered the room.
Noticing her forlorn appearance, he said cheerily, “What is the matter,
sister?”

She looked up at him and answered wearily, “O Brother A, I am so
dissatisfied.”

“Well,” he replied, “I am glad of it.”

She almost gasped with astonishment, and exclaimed, “Why, Brother A! what
do you mean?”

He then sat down in a chair near her and explained to her the substance of
what I am going to say to you.

We have all thought how good it is to be satisfied. How many times we have
heard people testify and rejoice that they had reached this experience! I
would not depreciate this sense of satisfaction, for out of it come many
enjoyable things. It is a very pleasurable feeling and one that most
people very earnestly desire. There are times, however, when such a
feeling would be anything but a blessing. Perhaps this surprizes you as it
did the sister. God has made provision to satisfy us. Christ said that he
who would drink of the water of life should thirst no more; for it should
be in him a well of water, and thus his thirst should be continually
quenched. So there is a continual satisfaction in God. It is a good thing
to be thus satisfied with God and his plans and ways and with our
salvation, and dissatisfaction with any of these, if we are saved, is an
evil to which we should not give place; but hardly any greater evil could
come upon us than a complete and constant sense of satisfaction relating
to our attainments in grace, the development of our spiritual powers, or
the measures of our service to God.

Dissatisfaction is the mother of progress. The Chinese for centuries have
been taught to be satisfied with having things like their fathers had. As
a consequence they have almost entirely lost the inventive faculty. Long
ago they were an inventive nation, but now an invention among them is a
rarity. As long as people are satisfied, they are content to remain as
they are. Satisfaction is the foe to progress. As long as you are fully
satisfied, you are like a sailing-vessel in a dead calm. The sea about you
may be very smooth. Everything may be very peaceful and serene. But all
the time this calm prevails you are getting nowhere; you are at a
standstill. It is only when the wind rises and the swells begin to move
the vessel up and down and the sails begin to strain that good progress
begins. You may feel very comfortable in your satisfaction. It may be very
delightful and dreamy, but it may be dangerous also. Those who are fully
satisfied for very long may be sure that there is need for an
investigation. It is only when we become dissatisfied with present
conditions and attainments that we are spurred to effectual effort to make
progress.

Suppose God had been satisfied with the world-conditions before Christ
came. We should now have no Savior and no salvation. He was dissatisfied,
thoroughly dissatisfied, and so he made the greatest sacrifice that he
could make to change existing conditions. Paul was once very well
satisfied with his place in the Jewish religion; he was not looking for
anything better. His dissatisfaction arose from the fact that some other
people were not satisfied thus but were finding and advocating something
different. This aroused his severest condemnation. What he had was good
enough for him and ought to be good enough for them.

There are many today who are just like Paul was. They are fully contented
in their present situation, and should any one try to show them its
insufficiency and the need of higher attainment, it would only arouse
their opposition and indignation. That is why so many people oppose
holiness. Just as soon as Paul saw Christ and the higher and better things
for which Christ stood, he suddenly lost his satisfaction and became an
earnest seeker for those better things. Sometimes it takes a rude shock to
break through our self-satisfaction and to show us our true needs; but
when it comes and arouses a dissatisfaction, it is truly a blessing.

Suppose Luther had been satisfied to continue in the Romish church,
approving and submitting to her teachings and practices. Where might the
world have been today? He became dissatisfied and gave voice to that
dissatisfaction. Others heard and became dissatisfied. This
dissatisfaction made their hearts hungry for God, and out of that
heart-hunger came the Reformation.

Dissatisfaction has brought us the multitude of new things which we have
to use and enjoy. It has been because men became dissatisfied with old
methods and old implements and old ideas and customs and old attainments
that they have toiled in painful research, that they have labored night
and day to invent new things. In some places, people still plow with a
crooked stick and grind their flour in hand-mills. What their fathers had
is good enough for them. Some people are like that about religion. What
their fathers had is good enough for them, and they are indignant if we
even suggest something better; they are satisfied. There are others who
sought and obtained a real experience of forgiveness, but right there they
stopped. Years have passed. They were satisfied when they were first saved
(which was a very good thing); the only trouble was that they remained
satisfied and never made any further progress. They hear entire
sanctification preached, they accept the doctrine intellectually, but they
can never be persuaded to press on into the experience themselves. They go
on from year to year to year and never make any real spiritual
advancement. What is the trouble? Oh, they are just satisfied, that is
all; and they will never get any further till their sleepy satisfaction is
rudely broken in upon by something that startles them out of their
security and awakens them to their needs. That will bring dissatisfaction
and that in time will set them to seeking to have those needs supplied.

Some people are content just to drift with the tides. They go along with
the crowd, whichever way sentiment goes, and are quite content. They are
no real moral force in their community or in the church. They are aware of
the fact, and they seem to be satisfied to have it so. They will never
amount to very much so long as they are thus satisfied. Getting
dissatisfied is the only thing that will ever make anything worth while of
them.

There are those who know that they are less spiritual than they used to
be; still, they are not much concerned about it. They are resting very
easy. Such satisfaction is a curse. What such folks need is a good case of
dissatisfaction; for that is the only thing that will keep them from
drying up and withering away. I know of people who once had a glorious
experience but who for years have been so satisfied with themselves that
they have not progressed an inch. Instead, they have gone backwards, with
the result that today they are cold and formal. They are still satisfied,
they still profess to be justified and sanctified, but they amount to
practically nothing for God or the church. There is no moral force
radiating from their lives. To such persons the coming of dissatisfaction
would be a great blessing. So long as they are satisfied with their
present condition, so long they will be cold formalists.

Some people know that they are coming short both of their duty and of
their privileges in the Lord, but in spite of this they seem content and
are making no effort—at least no effective effort—to do better. O brother,
sister, if you are satisfied where you ought to be dissatisfied, it is
time you awakened, it is time you looked toward better things until your
hunger for them stirred you to action to obtain them.

To those who are dissatisfied, who realize your needs and lacks, I say: Do
not be discouraged. God means by this very feeling of dissatisfaction with
yourself to spur you on to seek diligently for higher and better
attainments. If you allow yourself to be discouraged, it will only hinder
you. God will help you to obtain that which you need. Do not falter
because your need seems great; God’s supply is more abundant than your
need. Cast off every weight. Press forward. God will help you. When once
he has aroused you to effort, you will find him ready to help. Your
dissatisfaction is most encouraging. Do not stay dissatisfied; press on
till you obtain what you need. You will never attain your full measure of
desire in this life, but you may obtain much, and what you do obtain will
prepare you for that fulness and satisfaction which only eternity can
bring you.

Dissatisfaction is never welcome, but it is a true friend. Through it you
may reach blessed attainments and soul-enriching grace. Value it and use
it rightly, and it will prove a great blessing, though it may often be a
blessing in disguise.





TALK THREE. WHY I BELIEVE THE OLD BOOK


Do I believe the old Book? Do I really believe it? My heart answers that I
do. The deepest consciousness of my soul testifies that it is true. I will
tell you some of the reasons why I believe it.

The Oldest, and Still the Newest, of Books.

God’s book written in the rocks is old, exceedingly old, but God’s book
the Bible reaches back still farther. It goes back not only to the
“beginning” of this terrestrial world, but into eternity; for the
expression, “in the beginning,” used by John, reaches back long before
this world was. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God,
and the Word was God.” From past eternity its majestic sweep covers the
whole range of being and reaches into the future eternity. It is, in fact,
the book of eternity, and within its folds lie the grandeur and sublimity
of the great unknown future. It never gets out-of-date. Other books have
their run of popularity and are forgotten, but the Bible never grows old;
no matter how familiar we become with it, it is ever new. To the Christian
it never grows stale, but is always fresh and always satisfying. It ever
reveals new depths that we fail to fathom, new heights that we can not
scale, and new beauties that enrapture our vision.

We read it over and over, and ever and anon we see new jewels sparkling
within its pages, jewels that delight the eye and reflect the light of
God. From it refreshing waters break out where we least expect them, and
our souls are refreshed like a thirsty man who suddenly finds water on the
desert. We may have read a text a thousand times, yet when we look at it
again it opens up and presents to us a vista of marvelous truth of which
we were before entirely unconscious. What other book can do these things?
When we read a book written by man, however interesting it may be, it soon
loses its interest and its charm; we do not find new beauties in it as we
do in the Bible. Its treasures are soon exhausted, but the Bible is ever
new, and so I do not believe that the Bible is man’s book nor that it
could be man’s book. Its depths are too deep to come from the heart or
mind of man; its heights are too great for him to reach; and its wisdom is
more than human. It can but be divine.

The Most Loved of All Books.

Wherever the Bible goes, people learn to love and to treasure it above all
other books combined. It is the one book that people love; it is the
treasure that people hold fast even at the risk of their lives. In past
ages when wicked rulers tried to keep it from the people, they could not.
At the peril of their lives people would have it. They underwent dangers
and tortures, and shrank not from anything, that they might possess this
wonderful book. It is not for what it claims to be—though it claims
much—nor for what men claim for it, but for what it is to the individual
himself that it is so dearly loved. There is that in the Bible which
endears itself to the human heart, and no other book has that quality.
Other books are enjoyed and admired and praised and valued; but the Bible,
in this respect, stands in a class by itself.

The educated and the ignorant, the high and the low, all races in all
climes, when they learn to truly know the Bible, and when they submit
themselves to the God of the Bible, learn to love it and to delight in it
and are enriched and blessed by it; and because I too feel this deep love
in my heart for the old Book, I believe it. I believe that, in some way,
it was made for me by One who knew my needs, and that it corresponds to
the very essence of my inner self; and I believe that I could not love it
as I do if it were not God’s book and if it were not true.

The Most Hated of All Books.

Not only is it the best-loved book, but it is also the most-hated book. No
other book has had so many nor such bitter enemies. I suppose more books
have been written against the Bible than against all other books combined.
Men do not hate Shakespeare nor Milton nor Longfellow; they do not hate
works on science nor philosophy; they do not hate books of travel or
adventure or fiction; they do not hate the other sacred books of the
world; they hate only the Bible. Why this hatred? It can be only because
they find in the Bible something that they find nowhere else. What they
find there is a true picture of themselves, and the picture is not
pleasant to look upon, so they turn away their faces and will have nothing
to do with it except to vilify and condemn it. They deliberately
misrepresent it and write falsehoods about it; they satirize and ridicule
it, using all sorts of weapons and all sorts of methods to combat it, and
for only the one reason—that its truth pricks them in their consciences
and they can by no other means escape from it.

It is judged by a standard far more stringent than any other book, not
excepting the other sacred books. No critic would think of treating any
other book as he treats the Bible, nor of requiring of any other book what
he requires of the Bible. The more men hate God, the more they hate his
Word; and this has a deep, underlying reason, and that reason, I believe,
is that the Bible is God’s book and that in it there is so much of God
himself.

It Has Withstood All Assaults.

But though so bitterly assailed through all the ages, the Bible has
withstood the assaults of all its enemies and stands victorious still. The
Greek philosophers, with all their skill, were vanquished. The greatest
intellects of modern times find themselves given pause before it. The
sharpest arrows that unbelief could forge have not pierced it; the
assaults made upon it have resulted only in the destruction of the weapons
used. All through the ages countless theories—religious, philosophic,
scientific, or other—have been used against the Bible, only to fall in
ruins at last before it and to be rejected even by those who once
advocated them. The Bible endures an amount of criticism that no other
book could endure, and instead of being destroyed, it is only brightened
and made better known. Could such a thing be truly said of error? Could
error endure what the Bible has endured, and live? It is the law of nature
that error is self-destructive, but that truth can not be destroyed; and
according to this law, the Bible must be true because of its
indestructibility.

It Tells Me of Myself.

My deepest emotions and longings, my highest thoughts and hopes, are
mirrored there, and the more settled inner workings of conscience are
there recorded. It speaks to me of my secret ambitions, of my dearest
hopes, of my fears, of the love that burns within me. My desires are
pictured in the Book just as I find them working in my heart. Whatever
picture it draws of the human soul I find within myself, and whatever I
find within myself I find within its pages, and thus I know that it is
true. No man can know me as the Bible knows me nor picture out my inner
self as the Bible pictures me; and since no work of man could correspond
with my inner self as the Bible corresponds with me, I know that it did
not come from man.

It Is the Book of Conscience.

It is as a mirror into which every man, when he looks, sees himself. It
speaks to his conscience, not as a man speaks, yet with a potency unknown
to any other book. It is preeminently the book of the conscience. Other
books appeal to men’s consciences, but not with the appeal of this book.
Other books mirror men, but not like the Bible. In the silent watches of
the night, in the lonely depths of the forest, upon the expanse of the
sea, or wherever man may be, how frequently is it the case that this book
speaks into his conscience in a silent yet thundering voice, and before it
he is awed and silenced and oftentimes terror-stricken. It speaks to the
conscience as only God can speak, and therefore it must be God’s book.

It Gives Comfort and Hope.

To what book do those in sorrow turn? To Voltaire? to Ingersoll? to
Haeckel? Do they turn to science or philosophy or poetry or fiction? There
is but one book that is the book of comfort. The sad and desolate heart
turns to its pages, and as it reads, the consolation of the Holy Spirit,
which fills the book, comes into that heart, and it is comforted. It is as
the balm of Gilead; it is as a letter from home to the wanderer; it is as
a mother’s voice to the child. Friends may speak words to comfort us, but
they can not comfort us as does the Book; its words seem to enter into our
innermost sorrows with a healing touch. God is the God of all comfort, and
it is the comforting God in this comforting book that comforts the soul.

It is also the book of hope. Sometimes man despairs, and he looks here and
there for hope, finding none; but there is one book in which hope may
always be found. It always has something to offer him to inspire hope with
new courage. Therefore it is the hope of the hopeless; since in the
troubled soul it brings a calm, brightening dull eyes and causing them to
look beyond. It lifts up the bowed head, strengthens the feeble knees,
renews the courage, and takes the sadness out of the voice; it is
therefore truly the book of hope.

The Book of the Dying.

A soldier, desperately wounded, lay in a trench. The shells were bursting
around him; the bullets and shrapnel were whistling through the air; the
roar of the guns shook the ground. He was going down into the valley of
the shadow of death. Knowing that he must pass over to the other side, he
reached into his pocket with his little remaining strength and pulled
therefrom a soldier’s Testament. Handing it to a comrade he said, “Read to
me.” His comrade opened the book and began to read—“In my Father’s house
are many mansions: if it were not so I would have told you. I go to
prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will
come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be
also.” A smile overspread the face of the dying soldier as he listened to
the words amid that solemn and terrible scene. He closed his eyes and lay
quite still smiling, then he murmured, “It is well.” And with a smile
still upon his face he passed across to the other side.

For what book do the dying call? For just any book? What words do they
wish to hear in the final hour? There is but one book for that hour; but
one that can throw light into that shadowy valley. That is the Bible. It
is the book of the living and of the dying, the book of the sorrowing and
of the hopeless. It is just such a book as the loving Father would give to
the children whom he loves, and it meets their need in all the details of
their lives as only God could meet it, and therefore I can but believe
that it is the book of God.

Only Answer to the Enigma of Life.

The “why” of life is found nowhere else. Other books tell us many truths
about life, yet its depths and meaning find expression and answer in only
one book. It interprets life; and he who reads the interpretation knows
that it is true because it is the story of himself, and in himself is the
witness of its truth. Men have sought everywhere the secret of life and
the things that pertain thereto, but everywhere, save in the Bible, they
find only darkness and obscurity and uncertainty. The Bible, however,
speaks in no uncertain terms. It speaks the language of him who knows, and
if we reject its voice we are left in a tangled maze, out of which we can
not find our way.

The Bible outlives all its critics and is triumphant when they are
forgotten; it has many times been pronounced dead, but still it lives; it
has been called “exploded,” but its power is not dissipated; it has seen
all antagonistic theories of the past, one by one, destroyed and rejected,
but it still stands in spite of the critics, in spite of its enemies; and
those who anchor their faith upon it need not fear what voice is raised
against it. Neither need they fear what weapons are brought to bear upon
it; for it is truth, and those who fight against it fight against God and
are themselves ruined.

It is adapted to all people of every race and clime, to the high and the
low, the rich and the poor, the learned and the ignorant. Of no other book
can this be said. It is the Book of books, the book of God. In it God
speaks, and my inmost heart knows that it is the voice of my Beloved, and
leaps for joy.





TALK FOUR. HE MAKETH ME TO LIE DOWN


The Psalmist says of the Lord, his Shepherd, “He maketh me to lie down in
green pastures,” or, as the Hebrew has it, “in pastures of tender grass.”
What a world of significance there is in this little sentence: “The Lord
is my shepherd.”

“He maketh me to lie down.” He doth not compel me. That is not the Lord’s
method; he findeth a better way. If he compelled me to lie down, there
would be no pleasure in it. When a sheep is compelled to lie down, it is
in fear; it can not but dread what is to happen to it. So the Lord doth
not compel me. He leadeth me in the pastures of tender grass, and I eat
until I am satisfied, and being satisfied with the sweet and luscious
pasturage, I lie down, content. While the sheep is hungry, it will not lie
down in the pasture; it desireth to eat. But when it hath eaten its fill,
it lieth down and resteth and is satisfied. So he feedeth my soul day by
day; the good things of his kingdom doth he give unto me. He satisfieth my
soul with fatness. My soul desireth nothing more than what he giveth. If I
hunger, he hath a supply, and he giveth me, and that with a generous hand.
He knoweth all my needs. He supplieth every one, that I may be “fat and
flourishing, to show that the Lord is upright.”

There are many enemies about, but “he maketh me to lie down.” I am in
quietness. My heart is not afraid. The Shepherd standeth between me and
those ravening wolves. The lion and the bear can not harm me, for the
Shepherd standeth as my protector. His eye shall watch while I lie down.
His ear shall hearken and shall hear the sound of their footsteps if they
come near. I trust the Shepherd; therefore my heart is not afraid, and I
shall lie down safely. It is trust that enableth me to lie down. If I were
afraid, I could not thus rest. I should be watching and fearing and
trembling. Every noise would alarm me. I should forget about the green
pastures. I should forget the tender grass. But he is watching. He hath
his weapon in his hand. He doth not fear my enemies, and while he is
watching I do not fear them, for he is strong and mighty. He is greater
than my foes. They know it and are afraid. They tremble at his voice. They
flee away, but I lie safely. He hath said, “I will feed them in a good
pasture, and upon the high mountains of Israel: ... in a fat pasture shall
they feed upon the mountains of Israel.”

“He leadeth me beside the still waters.” When I grow thirsty, the river
lieth at the foot of the mountain, and down the slope he will lead me, and
there in the shade, in the quiet, restful coolness, I shall drink of the
waters of quietness and shall be satisfied, and my soul shall delight in
him. The path down which he leadeth me may be steep; there may be thorns
along the way; but so long as I permit him to lead me where he will, he
will lead me safely. I must not choose my own way. I must not run ahead of
him. I must not leave the path. I must follow close to him. I must listen
to his voice, and then he will lead me to the still waters, and there I
shall rest in his love. Then as the evening falleth, he will lead me to
his fold, and inside its walls of security I shall rest during the hours
of the night. I shall not fear the darkness, for the Shepherd is watching.
I shall not fear the wild beasts round about, for they can not harm me. He
will watch over me and bear me up when I am weak. I can rest secure. My
shepherd is the Good Shepherd. He loveth his sheep. They are a pleasure to
him.

Though he sometimes may needs lead by a rugged way, yet I am safe, for he
careth for me. He will lead me in the way that I should go. He will enrich
my soul with his goodness. Yea, “goodness and mercy shall follow me all
the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”





TALK FIVE. BLIGHTED BLOSSOMS


In our yard, a few feet from the door, stands an apple-tree. In the early
spring I watched its swelling buds from day to day. Soon they burst forth
into snowy blossoms, beautifying the tree, and filling the air with their
fragrance. There was the promise of a bountiful crop of fruit. In a few
days the petals had fallen like a belated snow. As the leaves unfolded and
grew larger, there appeared here and there a little apple that gave
promise of maturing into full-ripened fruit. But, alas! how few apples
there were compared with the number of blossoms with which the boughs had
been laden! Most of the blossoms had been blighted, and had fallen to the
ground leaving nothing behind.

“Ah,” thought I, “how like these blighted blossoms are so many of the
desires and hopes and plans of our lives! How many of our aspirations are
never realized! How many of our plans fail! How scanty the perfectly
matured fruit in our lives, when compared with the blossoms!” When we
consider this, how barren our lives often seem! How little we seem to
accomplish! How little our lives seem to amount to!

Every truly saved heart longs to serve. The redeemed heart loves, and love
finds its joy in service. How much there is to be done all around us! and
how eagerly we would take up the task of doing it! How much we want to
accomplish for the Lord! but ah, how little we do really accomplish! How
many blossoms of desire we possess! but how little fruit of real
accomplishment! Seeing this, we sometimes become discouraged. It does not
seem worth while to try to do the few little things that we actually can
do. Do the best we can, so many of our blossoms will be blighted—so many
of our plans will fail; so many of our hopes will not be realized; so many
of our desires will not be fulfilled. We can rejoice in those that are
brought to fruitage; we can rejoice in those that do mature; but how about
the blossoms that fall and seem to leave nothing behind them? Do they bud
in vain? Do they serve no good purpose in our lives? They are not in vain.
The blossoms on that apple-tree which were blighted, and died, were just
as beautiful and just as fragrant as those which bore fruit. They served a
very real purpose, and so do the hopes and purposes that we cherish in our
hearts, even though we never see their fruitage.

David was a man who loved the Lord, and out of that love came a desire to
build the Lord a house. That desire was never realized by David. Making it
a reality was left to others. Nevertheless, David’s purpose was pleasing
to the Lord. In his prayer at the dedication of the temple, Solomon said:
“And it was in the heart of David my father to build an house for the name
of the Lord God of Israel. And the Lord said unto David my father, Whereas
it was in thine heart to build an house unto my name, thou didst well that
it was in thine heart” (1 Kings 8: 17, 18). God did not despise the
desire, even though he did not permit David to carry it out. As God was
well-pleased with the desire of David to build him a house, so he is
well-pleased with those worthy desires and purposes of our hearts that are
never carried out. Whether it be circumstances or surroundings that hinder
us, whether it be a lack of wisdom or of ability, whether it be the
pressure of other duties, or even if God gives the task to some one else,
there is, nevertheless, beauty and fragrance in the desire that is in our
heart to do him service.

We must not become discouraged and give up hoping and desiring and
planning to do something for the Lord, even though so many of our plans
fail and our hopes become blighted. We know that it is the sap flowing
upward through the tree that produces the beautiful fragrant blossoms.
Likewise God knows that it is the love in our hearts that produces the
desire for service; and that love is precious in his sight. Do you
sometimes feel that there is so little, oh, so little! that you can do for
the Lord? Does your life seem to count so little for his kingdom? and do
you long to be more useful? That very longing is as the odor of sweet
incense before the Lord. If you are prevented from doing the things that
you would gladly do, if circumstances shut you in like a hedge, if you
seem weak when you would be strong, you can still do something. The more
of those blossoms of desire you have, even if they never reach fruition,
the more your life is beautified, and the more the Lord is pleased. These
unfulfilled desires work to ennoble our character and to enrich us,
provided we do not spend our time mourning and lamenting because we can
not put them into action.

There is, however, one danger which we must be careful to shun. Sometimes
people have their hearts so set on doing some great thing that they miss
the little things, the little opportunities that lie close to their hands.
Life is made up of a round of little things. The great things only happen
at rare intervals. But it is being faithful in the little things that
makes us ready for our opportunities for the great things when they come.
Christ said “He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also
in much.” The little things are not spectacular, they do not attract much
attention, but they are the things that make up life; and if we are true
in these little things, God will trust us with some greater things by and
by. It is not wrong to yearn to do more; but that longing works evil if,
in our reaching forward to greater opportunities, we neglect what
opportunities we have. It is the fruits we are able to produce, not their
blossoms, that count at the harvest.

Let us, therefore, strive to do all that we can; and if we can not do all
that we would, let us remember that the blossoms that are blasted are not
in vain. They serve their purpose. They are well worth while; and if we go
resolutely and stedfastly on, we shall at last hear the Master’s voice say
to us, “It is good that it was in thine heart.” How sweet these words will
sound in our ears! How they will soothe our feelings of disappointment at
not having done more! Let us press on, therefore, and not be discouraged
because we do not see our hopes and plans realized in this world. Let us
be strong and of good courage, knowing that God knows all about it. Let us
thank him for such privileges as we have, and make the best of our
opportunities.





TALK SIX. MEETING THE LIONS


The Bible recounts some interesting stories of lions. They are
interesting, not simply because they are stories of animals, but because
there are things in connection with them from which we may draw some very
striking lessons. We all remember the story of Daniel—how he was cast into
the den of lions, and how during the long watches of the night he sat
there in their den unharmed. What was expected to be the tragedy of his
life proved to be his most glorious victory. The expected triumph of his
enemies was turned into their utter defeat, and Daniel, stronger and more
courageous than ever, came forth to continue his service to God.

Samson too had an experience with a lion. As he was going along the road
one day he met a lion, and it attacked him. He had no weapons, yet he met
it courageously. We are told that “the Spirit of the Lord came mightily
upon him, and he rent him as he would have rent a kid.” Some time later he
was passing that way and found that a swarm of bees had entered the dried
carcass of the lion and made their abode there, and he took of the honey
and went on his way.

In the thirteenth chapter of 1 Kings we find another lion story. Here a
prophet sent of God went to Samaria and prophesied as God had commanded
him, and according to the commandment he started back on his way to Judea.
God had told him not to eat or drink there, but to go back immediately by
a different way from that by which he came. He started to obey, but sat
down to rest by the wayside. While he was here, another prophet came and
persuaded him to go back and dine with him. Then, as he went upon his way,
a lion met him and slew him.

The lions of these stories may be likened to our trials. We meet trials
every now and then in life, and some of them seem very much like lions.
They seem very threatening and very dangerous. Sometimes we try to run
away from a trial, but as surely as we do, we meet another in the pathway
in which we go. We are certain to have trials. The important thing is that
we meet them properly. Some people imagine that if they live as they
should they ought not to have trials. But trials often come when it is no
fault of ours. Daniel was not thrown into the lions’ den because he had
not lived right or because he had been unfaithful in something. No; it was
his faithfulness that resulted in his meeting the lions. It will be that
way in our lives. If we are true and loyal to God, that very loyalty is
sure to bring us trials sometimes. Daniel had his choice in the matter. He
could have been disloyal and escaped the lions, but he chose rather to be
loyal and take the full consequences, whatever they might be. God wants
you and me to dare to be Daniels too. He does not want us to swerve an
inch from the truth in order to evade any sort of trial. If we are true,
and as a result of that trueness a great trial like being thrown into a
den of lions comes upon us, and every earthly hope seems shut off, and
there is no help from anywhere, what shall we do? Despair? Ah, no. God
will send his angel and shut the lion’s mouth for us, just as he did for
Daniel. Dare to be true. God will stand by you even in the most trying and
desperate hour.

It was not a test of his standing true that brought Samson face to face
with the lion. He met the beast just by accident. He got into the trouble
unwittingly. He had no expectation of it whatever, but the first thing he
knew, he was face to face with it. That is just the way it happens with us
sometimes: we get into a trial without any seeming reason for it; we are
not expecting anything of the kind.

If the prophet in Samaria had gone in the way that God commanded him, he
would not have met the lion that slew him. It was his disobedience that
caused the trouble. Sometimes when we are in trials, we realize that it is
our own fault that we are tried. Sometimes we may be disobedient,
sometimes we may be careless, sometimes it may be this or that; but
whatever it is, we realize that it is our own fault. That makes the trial
harder to bear. But however trials come, whatever is their cause, we must
meet them. We have no choice in the matter. The important thing is to meet
them right. Daniel knew that he had done right and pleased God; and,
furthermore, he met his trial with a calm peace and full assurance that
God would take care of him, and God did take care of him, and he came
through the trial. He was peaceful through the trial and triumphant after
it, because God was his helper.

Some one has said that our trials make or mar us. This is true. Either we
come out of them stronger than we went in or we come out of them weaker.
We have either joy or sorrow from them. We should meet our trials as
Samson met the lion. Face them boldly. Do not run or shrink. If you seem
to have no adequate weapon to use against them, trust in God and meet them
boldly anyway. That is the way Samson did, and do you remember what
happened? Why, after a while he got honey out of the carcass. Do you want
honey out of your trials? You would rather have that than bitterness.
Well, you may have the honey if you will face the trial and overcome it.
Conquer in the name of Christ. Do not whimper or whine; do not lament or
murmur; do not fear or tremble. Face your trials boldly, and the Spirit of
the Lord will come mightily upon you as it did upon Samson, and you will
conquer. And then, ah, it is then that the sweetness will come: after you
have mastered the trial, in the days that follow, sweetness will come, and
you will bless God that he ever permitted you to be so severely tried.

Conflict must always precede victory. The lion must be killed before the
bees can build the honeycomb in the carcass. So face your trials boldly
and kill them. Then you may taste the sweets of victory. This is the only
way, and you are not too weak to take this way. God has promised that he
will not suffer you to be tempted above what you are able to bear. If you
will believe it and do your part, God will do his, and you will triumph.





TALK SEVEN. EGG-SHELL CHRISTIANS


You have sometimes heard it said of people that “they have to be handled
like eggs”; eggs must be handled carefully, or you are likely to break
them. Some people are super-sensitive: you have to be very careful what
you do or say, or they will be hurt or offended; you can never be sure how
they are going to take anything. Such people are much of the time
suffering from wounded feelings, are displeased and offended. It is true
that some are of a highly nervous temperament and naturally feel things
more keenly than others, but it is not this natural nervous sensitiveness
that leads to the results above mentioned, it is a morbid and unnatural
state into which people allow themselves to enter. The natural feelings
may need restraint and careful cultivation, but these morbid feelings need
to be got rid of.

Sometimes people can bear to hear others ridiculed or talked about in a
gossiping way, or see them slighted, and think nothing of it or even be
amused; but when they themselves become the target for such things, it
almost kills them, or at least they feel almost killed. What makes this
great difference in their feelings? Why do they feel for themselves so
much more than they do for others? Trace the feeling back to its origin,
and you will find that their self-love is the thing that has been hurt. If
they loved others as they love themselves, they would feel just as much
hurt by that which was directed against the other as by that which was
directed at themselves. It is self-love that makes people easily offended
and easily wounded; and the more self-love they have, the easier they are
hurt and the quicker their resentment is aroused. Self-love begets vanity;
it quivers in keenest anguish at a sneer or a scornful smile; it is
distressed by even a fancied slight. Self-love throws the nerves of
sensation all out to the surface and makes them hyper-sensitive, and so
the person feels everything keenly. He is constantly smarting under a
sense of injustice. He feels he is constantly being mistreated.

Oh, this self-love! How many pains it brings! how many slights it sees!
how often it is offended! Reader, are you a victim of self-love? If you
are so sensitive, always being wounded and offended, self-love is what is
the trouble. If you will get rid of this self-love, you will be rid of
that morbid sensitiveness; that is, you will get rid of that morbid
sensitiveness that makes people have to be so careful with you.

Self-love makes a person wonder what others are thinking and saying about
him. It makes him suspicious of others, suspicious that they are saying or
thinking things that would hurt his feelings if known. If two others talk
in his presence and he can not hear what is said, he is afraid lest the
talk is about him or he is hurt because he is not taken into the
confidence of the others. If others are invited to take part in something
while he is omitted, he feels slighted and hurt, and can hardly get over
it. I have often heard people make remarks like this: “We shall have to
invite So-and-so, or he will feel hurt.” Self-love is a tender plant; it
is easily injured. We may make all sorts of excuses for such
sensitiveness; but if we will clear away these excuses and dig down to the
root of the trouble, we shall find that God has it labeled “self-love.”

Another thing that increases sensitiveness is holding a wrong mental
attitude toward others. This attitude manifests itself in a lack of
confidence in the good intent of others. If we are looking for and
expecting slights, ridicule, and like things, it means we take it for
granted that others are holding a wrong attitude toward us. We do not
really believe that they love us and have kindly feelings toward us, or
that they will be just and kind and sympathetic in their actions that
affect us or relate to us. Have you not seen children who, when one would
hurt another and say, “Oh, I did not mean to do it!” the other would
retort, “Yes, you did; you just did it on purpose”? There are many older
persons who are always ready to say, “It was just done on purpose; they
just meant to hurt my feelings!” This is childish, but alas, how many
professed Christians hold such an attitude! This is a sure way to destroy
fellowship and to take the sweetness out of the association with God’s
people. It is unjust to our brethren. It is the foe of unity and
spirituality. Were it not for self-love, we would not think of attributing
to others an attitude different from that which we feel that we ourselves
hold toward them.

This self-love crops out in all our relations. It constantly exalts us and
as constantly depreciates our brethren. God’s saints are animated with a
spirit of kindness and brotherly affection for each other, and this does
not manifest itself in wounds and slights, and if we are looking for such
manifestations it is because we do not believe that they have Christlike
feelings toward us. God wants us to have more confidence in our brethren
than to be looking for them to misuse us.

If we are looking for slights, we shall see plenty of them—even where none
exist. If we are expecting wounds, we shall receive them even when no one
intends to wound us. Self-love has a great imagination. It can see a great
many evils where none exist. It is like a petulant and spoiled child. I
remember one child of whom it was said, “If you just crook your finger at
him, he will cry.” Thinking that this was an exaggeration, I tried it, and
the boy cried. There are some people six feet tall who are hurt just that
easily. They are truly “lovers of their own selves.” Paul said, “When I
became a man, I put away childish things.” It is high time others were
doing the same thing. Suppose Christ had been as sensitive as you are,
would he have saved the world? If Paul had been like you, would he have
endured the persecution and dangers and tribulations and
misrepresentations that he bore to carry the gospel to the world? He was
not so sensitive. He was not looking for slights. He was a real,
full-sized man for God. The secret is that he loved Christ and others more
than he loved himself; therefore he could endure all things for his
brethren’s sake, that they might be saved.

The cure for self-love and the sensitiveness that comes from it is to turn
your eyes away from self to Jesus Christ, and look upon him until you see
how little and insignificant you and your interests really are. Look upon
him until you see how high above all such narrow pettishness he was, until
you see that his great heart was so overrunning with love for others that
he had no time to think of himself. Then ask him to revolutionize you and
fill your heart with that same love till your eyes and your thoughts and
your interests are no longer centered upon yourself, and self no longer
fills your horizon, but your heart goes out to others till it quite draws
you away from yourself. You will find this the cure for your
sensitiveness; and when you are thus cured, you will no longer be an
egg-shell Christian, and people will no longer have to be afraid of
wounding or offending you.





TALK EIGHT. TWO WAYS OF SEEING


The appearance that things have to us depends, to a great extent, upon the
way that we look at them. Sometimes our mental attitude toward them is
largely responsible for their appearance. Often two or more persons look
at the same thing, and each one sees something quite different from what
the others see. Persons who see the same thing will often have very
different stories to tell about it afterwards, and will be very
differently affected by what they see. This is not because their eyes
differ so much, but because their mental attitude affects the
interpretation of what they see.

A notable example of this is seen in the twelve spies sent by Moses to spy
out the land of Canaan. The Israelites had crossed the Red Sea. Their
enemies had been destroyed behind them. They had come at God’s command
almost to the borders of the Promised Land. Here the people camped while
the spies went to see the country. They passed through it and viewed the
land and the people, and presently came back with their report. It was a
wonderful land, they agreed, a land flowing with milk and honey. The
samples of the fruit they brought back were large and fine specimens. Of
course, the people were at once very eager to possess such a land, but the
question came up, _Are we able to do so?_ What kind of people are they
over there? Are they good fighters? Are they courageous? Do they have
strongly fortified cities? As soon as this question was broached, there
was a difference of opinion. Caleb said, “Let us go up at once, and
possess it; for we are well able to overcome it” (Num. 13: 30). The
others, however, did not agree with him, except Joshua. They said, “We be
not able to go up against the people; for they are stronger than we ...
and all the people that we saw in it are men of a great stature. And there
we saw the giants, the sons of Anak, which come of the giants: and we were
in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight” (vs.
31-33).

Now, what made the difference in their views? They all saw the same
things; they all saw the same people; but when it came to telling of them,
they told very different stories. The difference must have lain in the men
themselves. When the ten saw those sons of Anak, they felt that they were
as grasshoppers in comparison with such giants. “Why, we amount to nothing
at all,” the ten spies thought. “Those great big fellows could walk right
over us.” And when they recalled their sensations, the land did not seem
so fine, either, and they said, “It is a land that eateth up the
inhabitants thereof.” They did not stop to consider that their own words
condemned them. How could a land be such a bad land and yet the people who
lived in it be so strong and so great?

Joshua and Caleb, however, were not to be frightened by the stories that
the others told. So they said, “The land, which we passed through to
search it, is an exceeding good land” (chap. 14: 7). They also held fast
their confidence in the ability of Israel to gain the land saying, “If the
Lord delight in us, then he will bring us into this land, and give it us;
a land which floweth with milk and honey. Only rebel not ye against the
Lord, neither fear ye the people of the land; for they are bread for us:
their defense is departed from them, and the Lord is with us; fear them
not” (vs. 8, 9).

Now, all these men were probably honest. They probably described things
just as these appeared to them. What was the difference? The difference
was not in their eyes, but in that which was back of their eyes. When the
ten went through the land and saw the giants, they forgot all about God.
It was themselves against the giants, with God left out; and when we leave
God out, things look very different. How big those giants looked! “We poor
grasshoppers had better be getting out of here quickly. We do not stand
any show at all,” they thought. “How could Israel fight with such fellows,
anyway?” The ten were full of doubts, and they looked through their
doubts, and their doubts magnified the Anakim.

But Caleb and Joshua had no doubts. They had faith in God—faith that did
not waver. They remembered the Red Sea. They remembered the manna from
heaven. They remembered the other things that God had done. They looked at
the situation through their faith; and instead of feeling as if they were
grasshoppers, they felt themselves more than a match for the giants. The
two were not at all frightened. “Why,” they said, in effect, when they
came back, “they will be only bread for us. We shall just eat them up.
They have heard what God has done among us, and they are too scared to
fight. Their defense is departed from them.” Then these men of faith began
talking about the other side. “The Lord is with us; fear them not. What do
those fellows amount to, since God is not with them? What do their
fortresses amount to? Let us go up at once,” said they. “Why, we can whip
them with ease.”

But the people listened to both sides, and their ears heard; but instead
of listening through their faith to Joshua and Caleb, they listened
through their doubts to the ten and believed them and became very much
frightened; and in consequence they went to murmuring and complaining
because Moses had brought them out there to face such a situation. The
result was that they were turned back, defeated by their enemies, and had
to wander forty years in the wilderness until all the old ones perished.

Now, that is just the difference between faith and doubts. Looking back
from the present time, we can easily believe that God would have conquered
the land before them. Yes, we can believe that. We can see how foolish it
was for them to turn back and to be afraid and to murmur. That all looks
very plain to us now. We say, “How foolish and how full of unbelief they
were!” But the question is, Are we doing any better than they did? When we
look at the obstacles in our way, when we look at the troubles that seem
to be coming, when we look at the things that are before us, do we look
through faith, like Caleb and Joshua, or do we look through doubts, like
the ten? Do your trials and difficulties make you feel like a grasshopper?
Does it seem that you would surely be overwhelmed? Does it look as though
you could never get through, that you might as well give up? If so, you
are looking at things through your doubts just as the ten did.

The people who win, the people who are victorious are those who look at
things through their faith. They do not compare their troubles and trials
and difficulties with themselves; they compare these with God. They behold
God’s greatness. They behold the things that he has done in the past. They
see how he has helped others. They see that they have been helped in the
past, that God has stood right by them and helped them through. They get
their faith and their eyes working together, and then they can see a way
out of their difficulties, just as Caleb did. “They shall be bread for
us,” faith says. “No use to be afraid. Giants don’t count. What is a giant
beside God?” Doubts say, “Oh, what shall we do?” Faith takes a new grip on
its sword and says, “Come on; let’s go and conquer them.”

Your eyes are all right; they will see things all right, but the question
is, What is behind your eyes—doubts, or faith? That is the thing that
really counts. Doubts will magnify your troubles, will make them look very
great. Doubts will make your power look very small. They will make your
ability to fight look as nothing. They will make you feel like running or
surrendering. Faith will not work that way. It will fill you with courage;
it will put the song of victory in your heart. Get faith behind your eyes.
Look out by faith. Remember that God will fight your battles. Be strong
and of a good courage, and you will overcome your foes. But doubts will
spoil things for you. Doubts will take away what courage you have. Doubts
will ruin you if you let them. So get rid of your doubts. Look to God,
believe in him, trust in him, and the victory will be yours. Take your
stand with Caleb and Joshua. Do you remember what became of the spies? The
ten doubters died in the wilderness, and their bodies were left there; but
the two who had faith went on into the Promised Land and died full of
years and of honors.





TALK NINE. THE LIVING BIBLE


The Bible is a living book. What it is to us depends on what we are to it.
If we approach it with unbelief and sneers, it shudders like a wounded
thing and closes up its heart, and we gaze only on a cold and gross
exterior. We behold the form of its words, but discern not the treasures
hidden in them. It appears cold and lifeless and repellent, and we go away
depressed and unbelieving.

If we approach it reverently, trustfully, and confidently, it opens up to
us its hidden depths. It shows to us its wonders. We may see in it
unequaled beauties, unfading glories, magnificent vistas of thought; we
may hear its voice of love, tender beyond words; we may feel the warmth of
its affection, be uplifted by its hopefulness, and thrilled with the tones
of its joy-bells.

If we open to it our heart’s door and pour out our treasures of affection,
it in turn opens to us a great storehouse, and we may eat and be
satisfied, and drink and thirst not. We may revel in its rich perfume, the
rhythmic cadences of its music, the splendor of its heavenly light, and to
us there is no question whether it is the living truth.

The Bible is to the Christian what the forest is to him who delights in
nature. He who walks through the forest laughing, talking, and singing,
hears not the sweet notes of the songster nor sees the wild things. He who
would see and hear the things that delight the nature-lover must steal
softly and silently along, watching his footsteps, hiding in the shadows,
and thus he may see nature as she is. Likewise he who comes to the Bible
full of self-importance with mind and heart self-centered sees not the
natural beauty of the Bible. We must come to it effacing self, seeking not
our own but the things of Christ, and we shall find it a mine of spiritual
gold, a fountain of living water, a balm for every sorrow, a light in
every dark hour—the one and only book that meets and satisfies the needs
of the human soul.





TALK TEN. HEEDING INTUITIONAL WARNINGS


There are things which we know and feel but which do not result from our
own study. We have a consciousness that there is some supreme power over
us, and we are conscious of a certain responsibility to, and a dependence
upon, this higher power. Reading the Bible and reasoning may give us
clearer ideas of this power and our relations to it, but we have the
consciousness of its existence without being taught.

This is never more clearly seen than in the case of the man who denies the
existence of a personal God. As surely as he rejects the God of the Bible,
he sets up something else in His place, and though he may call it by some
other name than God, he will, nevertheless, attribute to it the powers and
actions that belong to God. These intuitions by which we know without
being conscious of how we know are given us by God for our protection and
safety, and we ought to give careful heed to their testimony.

Sometimes our reason sees no harm in a thing, but we do not feel just
right about it. A doctrine may look ever so plausible and be ever so
interesting; but if we feel an inward uneasiness after consideration of
it, there is a reason why we should be careful. Our intuition will often
detect something wrong when our reason has not yet done so. These
intuitions are not to be disregarded. They are God’s means of warning us
against unseen dangers.

Sometimes when we come in contact with people, we see nothing outwardly
wrong, but we have an inward feeling that all is not well. We feel that
there is something wrong somewhere, even though we may be at a loss to
know what it is. Sometimes we come in contact with a company of people and
at once feel a strange something that we can not analyze; but we can not
always trust our feelings. There are many things that influence us, and it
is very easy to misinterpret them. Nor should we conclude that there is
something very badly wrong with anyone merely because we have peculiar
feelings when in his presence. There may be something wrong, however, and
it behooves us to be on our guard. Sometimes it happens that such feelings
arise when we are in the presence of people who are deeply tried, or
discouraged, or suffering under the assaults of Satan.

There are many evil spirits at work in these days among professors of
religion, and especially is this true among the various holiness factions.
Have you ever gone into a meeting and felt that some way you did not “fit”
there? The worshipers may have seemed joyful and may have said many good
things, but all the while you felt an inward uneasiness. There was some
reason for this, and whether the reason was spiritual or merely human, it
was wise to exercise carefulness. It is usually best to refrain from
trying to make yourself blend with anything when you have that internal
sense of protest against it.

Fellowship is natural and spontaneous. It can not be forced. If you are
straight and true and your heart is open and unprejudiced, you will
usually have fellowship with whatever is of God. Most sectarian holiness
people are so broad that they can take in almost anything and call it
good. Beware of this spirit. God’s Spirit accepts only the good. If you
have ease and freedom with true, established, spiritual people of God, and
are free in meetings where the whole truth is preached and the Spirit of
God works freely, and then when you come in contact with other professors
you fail to have that freedom, do not accuse yourself nor try to force
yourself to have fellowship with them.

A preacher once came into a certain community and began to preach. He was
quite enthusiastic; he praised the Lord and shouted. He preached much
truth and professed to be out clean for God. It was afterwards discovered
that he was very crooked and wholly unworthy of confidence. I asked a
number of the congregation later how it came that they received him. Their
answer was that, as he came recommended by some good brethren and preached
so much truth, when they did not feel right about him they came to the
conclusion that they must be wrong and he right. So they accused
themselves and went on through the meeting suffering under a heavy burden.
They knew they had no such feelings when other ministers came into their
midst, nor did they feel that way in their own ordinary meetings. But in
spite of this, they took the wrong course, and the result was that the
congregation received much harm both spiritually and financially. The same
thing happened with this preacher in other places, till at length he came
to a place where some refused to ignore their feelings or to accuse
themselves of being in the wrong. Instead, they sent at once for two
well-established ministers, and as soon as they came into the community,
the crooked preacher fled and was seen no more in those parts.

Sometimes some one will come around making a high profession, and while we
can see nothing wrong, we do not feel free with him, or, in other words,
we have a sense of uneasiness. We feel at home with other saints, but not
so with this person. Beware. If you are in fellowship with those whom you
know to be true saints, look out for those with whom you do not have
inward harmony. Do not blame yourself nor disregard the warning. Isolated
Christians naturally become hungry for spiritual association. Sometimes
they go to meetings where, while they find some good things, they also see
other things and feel things that grate upon their spiritual sense of
propriety. In such cases one should be guarded and should not try to “fit”
with these things. To blend with them you must become like them; and if
you become like them when they are not right, you will find that when you
come into an assembly where the truth and Spirit have freedom, you will
not blend there. If you ignore those inner warnings and accept something
contrary to them, you will soon find yourself out of harmony with God’s
church and without the liberty you used to have among the children of God.

Do not follow your intuitions blindly, but do not go contrary to them. Let
your reason find out the way of action before you act, so that you may act
wisely. But when that inward sense says to us, “Stop, look, listen,” we
shall do well to heed its warning.





TALK ELEVEN. DOING SOMETHING WORTH WHILE


We all like to feel that what we are doing counts for something, that it
is really worth while. We like to see practical results. We know that much
labor is lost in the world, and we do not want ours to be lost. The
ordinary things of life seem to amount to so little. They are not
spectacular; no one pays very much attention to them; and we naturally
feel that when we do something, we want it to be something that people can
see and that they will think is worth while, and something that we
ourselves can feel is worth while. Some think: “If I could just preach, I
shouldn’t mind working for the Lord. But, oh! I can do so little—nothing
worth while at all, nothing worth the effort. What can my feeble efforts
accomplish, anyway?”

Others think that if they could go to a foreign land and work among the
heathen, draw people to Christ there, send back home great reports of what
they have accomplished, have their names published in the paper, and have
people talking about them, then that would be worth while. But since they
are only ordinary people and can do only ordinary things, it seems to them
that it hardly pays to try. They will just follow the line of least
resistance and do things the easiest way. Of course they want to do what
they can for God, but they want to do something really worth while.

And now, reader, what is really worth while in life? Is it only those
things that make a great show? is it only those things that the world
counts great? A sister said to me recently in a letter, “I used to think
that I could do nothing worth while, but I have found that just simply
living salvation before people is a great work.” Now, that sister has
learned a wonderful lesson. She has found a truth so great that most
people do not recognize it as truth when they do find it. It is one of
those truths that have the peculiarity of seeming small and insignificant
though they are the very fundamentals of truth.

Just simply living salvation before people—yes, that is what counts, and
it counts more than anything else. That is one of the very greatest things
that an individual has ever done in this world. Talk is cheap, and many
people can talk all day and say scarcely anything either. Some people can
sway great crowds by their eloquence, they can accomplish wonderful
things, but still they can not live salvation, or, at least, they do not.
There is no power so great in this world as the simple power of a holy,
quiet life. The sister mentioned can never hope to do great things as
other people might count them. She is in frail health; she is isolated
from other saints and can not attend meetings as can many others; she has
not the ability to preach or to do anything very great, as greatness is
usually reckoned; but she has learned the great fact that she is not shut
out from doing a grand work.

If all God’s people could learn this lesson—if they could learn that it
really counts just simply to live right, just simply to be an ordinary
every-day Christian; if they could once get that thoroughly fixed in their
minds and hearts—it would glorify their lives, it would exalt the common
service, it would shed a halo over their lives, and they would not feel
discouraged.

When Moses was at Pharaoh’s court, I suppose he thought that he was doing
something really worth while. He amounted to something there. But when the
Lord let him be driven, or rather frightened, away from that court and he
went out into the wilderness, I suppose he thought his occupation there
was hardly worth while. Why, what was he doing, anyway? Just taking care
of the sheep, leading them out in the morning to the pasture, bringing
them back to the fold at night, seven days in the week—just doing this and
nothing more. I suppose it did not look very big to Moses, but it did to
God. God thought it worth so much that he kept him at that work for forty
years. Then Moses, at the age of eighty, when it looked as if he were
about done with this world, was called to go to do something for the Lord.
That forty years in the wilderness counted now. It had given him
experience that helped to qualify him for the work to which God had called
him. He came out of there worth while because he had done something worth
while in those years. He had learned about God—oh, so many things he had
learned! and now he was ready to put that knowledge into practise.

Sometimes we have wilderness periods in our lives, when God lets us be
shut up in a corner, as it were, and do the little things that do not seem
to count. But they count on us if they do not count anywhere else. There
is one thing—and just one—that stands out above all other things in the
human life, and that is faithfulness. No matter what our life may be, nor
where we may be, nor what is our situation, if we are just faithful it is
sure to count, and to count a great deal. That is one thing that you can
do: you can be faithful to the Lord. You can do what he wants you to do.
You can live pure, holy, undefiled, and keep shining every day, no matter
what the circumstances may be. Just remember to keep shining. That is the
thing that counts. Keep living clean and as God wants you to live. If you
do this, he will know where he can find somebody who is faithful when he
wants something else done. But ever keep this before you: there is no
greater nor more necessary work in the world than putting the truth of God
into visible form in a pure and quiet life.





TALK TWELVE. HOME-MADE CLOUDS


Louise stood looking out of the window with unseeing eyes. There was a
troubled expression upon her face. There were tears in her eyes, and a
lump in her throat. What was the trouble? An hour before she had been
singing as blithely as a song-bird. Her morning devotions had been sweet.
The presence of God had been with her. The day had started out full of
sunshine, but alas! now her sky was clouded.

It had all happened in a moment. Her younger brother had been playing with
his dog and had carelessly run against the stand upon which her
flower-pots were sitting and had upset one of the choice plants, breaking
the pot and ruining the flower. Louise saw the happening. How careless it
was of the boy! Quickly a feeling of impatience arose, and before she
realized what she was doing, she had spoken sharply to her brother and had
said hasty words that she immediately regretted. Her conscience quickly
reproved her. She felt bad over the loss of the flower, but she felt much
worse over her hasty words. A dark, heavy cloud settled down upon her. The
sunshine was all gone; there was no longer any song in her heart, but
heaviness instead.

Standing there by the window, she now meditated over it. Oh, if she had
been more tender! If she had only exercised more self-control! If she had
kept back those hasty words! It was quite true that Tom had been very
careless. Still, she knew that he too loved the flowers. He did not mean
to destroy one. Louise loved Tom, and because of this she felt all the
more deeply what she had done. He was gone now, she knew not where. She
would be glad to apologize to him and beg his pardon if he were there. She
decided that she would tell him as soon as he returned, and that gave her
some satisfaction, but it did not take away the cloud. She thought of how
bright the morning and how light and care-free her heart had been! But now
her day was clouded, and worst of all, she had made the cloud herself, by
her own haste.

That is often the way it is with us. We make so many of our own clouds in
life. Clouds often come over our lives from the actions of others;
sometimes they come through circumstances that can not be helped;
sometimes they come from Satan himself. Such clouds as these do not have
the effect upon us that our home-made clouds do. The things that are
hardest to bear are the things that we feel we have brought upon
ourselves. These get closer to us than anything else. They have a sting to
them that nothing else has. Many times people do things that try us; but
if we also do or say something hastily at that time, it will increase our
trial and make it the more difficult to bear. It will make the clouds that
come all the darker. If we have not been as kind as we ought to have been,
if there has been a sharpness in our words, or if we have manifested our
displeasure at something in a way that showed our feelings too much, it is
sure to bring a cloud over our day.

The more tender our consciences, the more we shall feel these things and
the more the tendency will be to cloud our days. It is true that we shall
feel displeased over things, and it is very natural to manifest our
displeasure in some way. Some people are very impulsive and speak before
they stop to think what they are saying or what the result will be, and
thus they are continually making clouds for themselves. There are times
when we must resolutely take hold of ourselves when the feeling of
displeasure comes, as it is sure to do. The will must grapple with these
emotions quickly and not let them get into action. Our wills were given us
to rule ourselves with. When tempted to be unkind or to be hasty in our
words and actions, we should say within ourselves: “I will not speak hasty
words. I will control myself and keep sweet. I will be patient; I will be
kind. I will do as the Lord would have me to do.” Then we should put these
resolutions quickly into action. Instead of the trial bringing a cloud
over us, the fact that we have conquered ourselves and kept ourselves in
the attitude that we should hold toward God and toward others will make
the sunshine all the brighter.

Conquer yourself; set a watch before your lips. If you are of an impulsive
disposition, you may fail again and again, but do not be discouraged, keep
up the fight. You will win in the end. You will reach at last the place
where self-control acts automatically, where you will think in time. If
you fail and the clouds come, endure them patiently, resolving to do
better the next time. Do not let yourself be crushed under the
circumstance. Do not let yourself be so discouraged that you think that
there is no use in trying, that you never will overcome. Keep up the
fight; you will yet come out conqueror.

Sometimes people feel that God is leading them to do a certain thing; they
feel strongly impressed to do it. They see an opportunity; then, perhaps
through timidity or indecision, they let the opportunity pass by, and when
it is gone they feel bad because they failed to improve it. How they
regret not having done it! If they had another opportunity, they would not
let it slip. But it has gone. In vain do they wish for it again. They have
failed, and that failure brings a dark cloud over them. It is another
home-made cloud. They can not blame anyone else for it—not even Satan. But
they do blame themselves, and sometimes to such an extent that it takes
the joy and sweetness out of the day, and possibly out of several days. If
we have done such things, it does no good to heap reproaches upon
ourselves. That only makes our clouds darker. The way out is to open our
hearts to God and tell him all about it, asking him to help us to be more
courageous, more diligent to take advantage of our opportunities, and more
faithful to follow his leadings. Let us resolve in our hearts that we will
do this, then go cheerfully about it.

Frivolous or foolish conversation or actions sometimes bring clouds over
our sky. The Spirit reproves us and we see our fault. To chide and condemn
ourselves does no good. The only profitable thing for us to do at such
times is to be open-hearted and frank toward the Lord and tell him about
it, to ask his help that we may do better the next time, and to determine
in our hearts that we will do better. I do not mean that we should get
into bondage. God wants us to be free, to live naturally, and not to live
under a strain, but to exercise a proper degree of caution.

I suppose we all have regrets and come more or less short of our ideals at
times. But if we are as careful and as true as we ought to be, we shall
not have so many of these home-made clouds; but if we do have them, let us
bear up patiently. It will do no good to chastise ourselves. The only
thing we can do that will be profitable is to trust in the Lord, and go
ahead until the darkness passes away and the sun shines again. Let us be
true to God and hold fast our confidence and our decision to serve him and
be ready to confess our faults before him. He will treat our faults as
faults, not as sins. He will not cut us off for such things. He will have
mercy upon us and will show his loving-kindness toward us. Let us
therefore trust in him and make as few of these home-made clouds as
possible.





TALK THIRTEEN. IT PLEASED THE LORD TO BRUISE HIM


It is a mystery in the minds of many why Christian people often have to
suffer. With all the promises of physical healing, they still are many
times in pain, notwithstanding God’s faithfulness and his omnipresence.
They also suffer temptations, persecutions, and soul-conflicts. How can we
explain these things? How can we harmonize these with the teachings of a
loving God? When we read Paul’s experience, we find it largely a record of
privation and suffering, of sorrow and heaviness. It is true that in it
all there is a note of joy and an unquenchable shout of victory, but
nevertheless soul, mind, and body often had to endure the lash of pain.
Did God love him? Why, then, must such things be?

God loved Christ with a perfect love, but we read that “although he had
done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth, yet it pleased
Jehovah to bruise him; he hath put him to grief” (Isa. 53: 9, 10, A.S.V.).
What strange language! He had done no evil, he was guilty of nothing, and
yet “it _pleased_ the Lord to bruise him.” Is it true that love is tender,
the tenderest of all things, and yet can bruise and find pleasure in it?
But this is just what happened. Jesus, the innocent Lamb of God, was
“smitten, stricken of God.” When we remember Gethsemane, the crown of
thorns, the cruel cross, it does not seem an act of love for God to give
his Son over to such suffering; yet it was love, truest love. Why did God
thus deal with him? It was not because the Father-heart did not feel that
agony. It was the only means to an end, and love desired that end so much
that it pleased it to make the great sacrifice that out of it might come
the infinite joy of a world’s redemption.

There is nothing that brings Christ so close to men as his sufferings;
there is nothing that makes men trust in him so much as the story of those
last days. If that story were taken from the pages of the Bible, what
would Christ be to us? Only a great teacher whose morality was high and
wonderful, though to us unattainable; but with this record added, he
becomes a Savior and makes his righteousness attainable by us all. Had he
not suffered, he could not have brought us to God. How much poorer we
should be today without the story of Gethsemane and Calvary, without
knowing that “it pleased the Lord to bruise him” and that out of his sighs
and tears and groans has flowed into our hearts a fountain of joy and love
and tenderness whereby we have been enriched and the angels of God have
been caused to sing a song for joy!

If God was pleased to bruise his own beloved Son, need we marvel if he is
sometimes pleased to bruise us? If we are sometimes bowed down with grief,
if anguish takes hold upon us, if the sky grows dark above us, and if God
seems to have turned away, is it any proof that he no longer loves us? Is
it not only the proof that God sees something to be accomplished that can
be accomplished in no other way, and that he is pleased for the sake of
that gain to let us suffer? The things that are worth while come through
pain. Joy does not make us stronger nor bring us nearer God; nor does it
refine, ennoble, or enrich us. The pure gold comes from the fire only and
the tempered steel also must have passed through the flame. God would have
us pure as gold and as strong as steel, and to have us so he can not spare
the flame. We must pass through the furnace of affliction. We are told
that God “doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men” (Lam.
3: 33). It is only that something may come out of it that will be better
and more blessed than could have been without it.

We know in reality only what we know by experience. Those who would be
instruments in God’s hands to help others must often have a preparatory
training-course in the school of suffering; how else could they know how
to help others? Brother, sister, has God called you to do a work for him?
If so you need not marvel if he lets the rod of pain be laid upon you. If
you have hindrances which seem to shut up the way before you, if you have
trials that you can not understand, if you have disappointments and
perplexities, if you have spiritual conflicts that threaten to overwhelm
you, do not think it strange. How can you teach others how to bear such
things if you have not borne them? How can you know the way out for others
if you have never gone that way? How can you teach others to look for the
blessings in these things if you have not their fruitage in your own life?
Those who have suffered most can enter most into the sufferings of others.

The successful worker will find that the strength and wisdom that bring
him success was the gift of pain, and had not pain brought him strength
and knowledge, success could not now be his. Likewise sometimes we must
suffer for others if we would save them. So if you would be a worker for
God and know how to enter truly into the sorrows and needs of others, you
must yourself drink the bitter cup and feel the chastening rod.

After the Lord called me to his work, I endured some great soul-conflicts.
In them I suffered inexpressibly. I almost despaired at times, but I look
back upon those things now as being the things that made me understand the
human heart, that gave me a broader sympathy, and that have since enabled
me to enter into the sorrows and needs of others and to minister comfort
and help as I could not otherwise have done. Those early sufferings
unlocked a thousand mysteries and enriched not only my own life but also
the lives of others. Endure these things with patience; for out of them
will come to you that which is more precious than gold. If you do not
suffer, you can be of little use to those who do suffer. The promise is,
“If we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him.”

Abraham suffered in that one supreme sacrifice, but his example of
faithfulness in the test has enriched millions of souls. Job suffered not
only physical agony but the keenest and deepest of spiritual agony, yet
that suffering was only an opportunity for God to manifest his mercy and
kindness. How much Job learned of God by enduring through these dark days
and how much the world has learned! If we should take out of the Bible the
record of suffering and its results that are written there, we should take
out of it all that is best and noblest and most helpful and encouraging.
How much poorer we should he if the sacred record told only of joy and
peace and comfort, if it spoke only of victory and achievement, and told
us nothing of the hard road that leads up to them! If the Lord chastises
us, it is “for our profit”; if God smites, it is only to enrich; so bear
with patience, endure as seeing him who is invisible. Be “patient in
tribulation,” drink the cup of your Gethsemane, wear your thorny crown
without complaint, endure your Calvary; for unto you is given both to
suffer and to reign with him.





TALK FOURTEEN. PUTTING CLOUDS OVER THE SUN


A little boy was walking down the street rejoicing in the possession of a
bright new penny. He was going to buy some candy with it. He could almost
taste it already, but just then he dropped his penny upon the sidewalk. An
older boy seized it and started off. The little boy began to cry and
demanded his penny, but the other boy only laughed derisively. It was a
mean trick. It spoiled the whole day for the boy, and ever after when he
thinks of the incident, he will have an unpleasant feeling. The older boy
put a dark cloud over the little fellow’s sun that day, and the shadow
will be cast upon him through other days.

A number of persons were sitting in a room talking over a matter. During
the conversation one man made a charge against another, comparing him half
contemptuously with a man whose conduct had been quite unbecoming. The
charge was like a dagger in the man’s heart. He knew it was both untrue
and unjust. He was conscious of the uprightness of his conduct. He had
always held the other man in high esteem, and to be thus publicly wounded
by him was almost unbearable. He made no defense, but he went out of that
room with an aching heart, humiliated and wronged. His friend had put a
great cloud over his sun. Years have passed, but the darkness of that
cloud has not yet all passed away. When he thinks of the injustice, there
is still a pang in his heart. He does not feel bitter toward the other; he
has forgiven; but the close tie has been broken. He has never since been
able to confide in the one who did him such an injury.

A faithful minister had labored for years for souls. He had been
successful; he had been a blessing to many. One day a certain person spoke
of him half jestingly in a manner that aroused the suspicions of some
others who were present. These suspicions grew until they became whispers,
and the whispers grew till they became open charges. The minister could
not prove them to be false. They hindered his labors. They bowed down his
head with sorrow. Some one had put a cloud over his sun and over his name,
and for years the dark shadow of it rested upon his life.

How easy it is to put a cloud over some one’s sun, to make some life dark
that might have been bright! It may seem only a little thing, but
sometimes a little cloud can make a dark shadow. We may not see either the
cloud or the shadow, but the heart that is darkened both sees and feels.
How many times parents, by unkind words or actions, becloud their
children’s sky! One way in which parents do this is by telling the faults
of their children to visitors, in the presence of the children. There is
scarcely anything more disheartening to a child than this. He feels
humiliated and hurt. He feels, and justly feels, that he has been
mistreated. It sinks down into his soul and rankles there. It discourages
him, and if it is often repeated he comes not to care if he is at fault.
Constant reproof and faultfinding make a child’s life gloomy and sad. That
is not the way to cure faults; it is the way to make them worse.

I once knew a young saint who had a rich experience of salvation. A
certain relative who opposed her religion began finding fault with her and
kept doing so at every opportunity. The result was that that young life
was beclouded and a deep melancholy settled down over her. Her
cheerfulness gave way to sadness and moroseness. The song of joy, once so
often upon her lips, was stilled. Some one had put a cloud over her sun,
and her life was never what it otherwise might have been.

Children may darken the hearts and lives of their parents. How many times
is the mother-heart or father-heart grieved by the conduct of the
children! It may be that they are only thoughtless, or they may be
disobedient and wilful. Young people, cherish your parents, try to make
their lives as bright as you can. They have many cares. These are enough
for them to bear without your adding a single one. When you have grown
older and they have gone out of your life, you may look back with a pang
of regret at the times when you caused their hearts to ache. Brighten
their lives while you may; then when you look into the open grave where
Father or Mother is being laid to rest, your conscience will not smite
you.

We are told that “no man liveth unto himself.” There is a circle of
influence about our lives that affects every other life that we touch. We
brighten or darken the lives about us. We lighten or make heavier the
burdens of others. Every unkind word or look makes a shadow on some life.
Every slighting remark, every sarcastic fling, every contemptuous smile,
puts a cloud over somebody’s sun. Lack of appreciation has darkened many a
life. How much better it would be to take away the clouds, to banish the
gloom! You can do this just as easily as you can bring clouds. It is just
as easy to speak kind words as to speak unkind ones, and you will feel
much better over it yourself. You can encourage and help, you can speak
words of appreciation. When people please you, let them know it. When
people do well, or even when they try to do well and fail, you can show
that you appreciate their efforts. You can be cheerful and courteous and
kind. That will make sunshine for others. There are enough clouds in life
at best in this world of sorrow. Be a sunshine-bearer. Drop a little good
cheer into every life you touch. No matter what you are by nature, you can
form the habit of being cheerful and encouraging. Even when you have heavy
burdens yourself, you can be encouraging and helpful to others.

Do not let your troubles be mirrored on your face. One’s face can smile
and his words can be cheery if his own heart does ache. I am not writing a
mere theory. I know what pain and gloom and heaviness are. I know what
burdens are. During the first few months of my illness every one knew how
I felt. My face told the story without words. I finally saw that that
would not do, and deliberately set to work to get the gloom out of my face
and out of my words. You who read what I write know something of my
success. You can do the same.





TALK FIFTEEN. WHAT IS YOUR WORD WORTH?


Everything is measured by some standard of value. Material things are
measured by length, breadth, weight, density, usefulness, or intrinsic
value. Character also has its standard of measurement. Some people are
valued more highly than others, whether in the community, in the church,
or in the nation. People are valued, not for their physical size or
weight, but for their abilities and more especially for their characters.
In a Christian the special thing of value, and the only special thing, is
his character. If one’s character is not of a higher and better quality
than that of people in general, one has no right to the name Christian.

The quality of ones character is indicated in various ways. One’s words
are generally a clear index to one’s character. A person is judged by
them, and his value is reckoned by the reliance that may be placed upon
his word. We know some on whose word we fully rely. If they tell us
anything, we believe them. If they make us a promise, we do not expect it
to he broken. We rely upon them because they have shown by their conduct
that they themselves place a high value upon their own word. Of such
persons it is often said, “If he says it is so, it is true,” or, “If he
makes a promise, he will fulfil it.” Such men wield a strong influence in
a community. People can easily believe and trust in their character. It is
a sad fact that such individuals are the exception rather than the rule,
even among professed Christians. How many times promises are made only to
be broken or forgotten! This is a grave matter and marks a serious defect
in Christian character. We should never make a promise unless we fully
expect to fulfil it, and we ought to feel under deep obligation to keep
our promise. If we are careless and neglectful of this, it is sure to
lower us in men’s esteem, and we shall be cheapened and discredited.

Hasty Promises.

Many times promises are made hastily. The person does not stop to consider
what he really is promising; he does not weigh its meaning. He says, “Yes,
yes, I will”; but later when he thinks the matter over, it looks different
to him. He is sorry that he made the promise, and begins to look for some
way out so that he will not have to fulfil it.

These hasty promises are just as binding as any others. If we ignore them
and do not make our word good, the persons to whom we have made them will
have just reason to condemn us. It is easier to make promises than it is
to fulfil them. Beware of making haste to promise. Think about the
fulfilment. Think whether you really want to do, or really will do, what
you promise. Consider your promises binding. Have the fear of God before
you just as much in this matter as in other things. If you wish people to
value your word, you must show that you value it yourself. If you do not
value it enough to keep it, do not expect others to value it. If you value
your word, it will make you careful about your promises—careful in making
them, careful in keeping them.

Do not make rash promises. Consider what you are promising. Is it
something that you can perform? Consider your ability and what things may
hinder. Have you any just reason to suppose that you can fulfil it? Would
it be wise for you to do it? Would it be best? Have you made other
promises that will conflict with it? Remember that when you once promise,
if you do not keep your word your failure leaves a shadow upon your
character in the mind of the one you promised unless there is some good
and sufficient reason to excuse you in his sight.

Do not make careless promises. The Bible tells us that in our planning we
should say, “If the Lord will”; that is, we should take in to
consideration that the unexpected may happen. We do not know the future;
therefore we ought not to make our promises too positive. We ought to
qualify them so as to allow for hindrances.

We ought to be honest in making our promises. Many promises are made when
there is no intention of carrying them out. Many people, rather than to
say no, will promise and then refuse to perform, thereby making themselves
liars. They have not manhood enough to refuse and honestly tell why, so
they make a promise and break it. That is the coward’s way out. It is the
dishonest way out.

Some people say, “If the Lord wills, I will do so,” when they do not
consider the Lord in the matter at all, but simply mean, “If I do not
change my mind.” Do not throw the odium on the Lord. If you think you may
change your mind, do not commit yourself definitely. If you are not fully
decided, do not be afraid to say that you do not know what you will do. Be
honest enough to let the other know the state of your mind. Be honest in
making promises; be honest in fulfilling them.

Fidelity to Promises.

Do not make too many promises. He who is too free to promise, places
little value upon his promises. He forgets them readily or lets some
trifle hinder the performance of them. He always has a ready excuse to
ease his conscience and to release himself from the obligation. This
indicates a want of character, a lack of real sincerity.

When you make a promise, do not forget it, do not break it. Never
disappoint people when you can help it. They feel disappointment as keenly
as you do. There is an old saying that “promises are like pie-crust—made
to be broken.” Are your promises of the pie-crust variety?

Possibly you have heard the story of the old deacon. A man came to him one
day to endeavor to get him to fulfil a promise that he had made. The
deacon refused. The other urged and entreated him, but still he refused,
and finally said, “The Bible says that we should let our words be yea,
yea, and nay, nay; and my words are so.” “Yes,” quickly retorted the
other, “when you are asked to make a promise, they are yea, yea; but when
you are asked to fulfil it, they are nay, nay.” This is one brand of
yea-and-nay Christians, but not the kind in whom God delights or man
trusts.

When you make promises, keep them. They are a test of your character. I do
not mean that you should be under bondage to your promises. Sometimes we
fully believe we can and will perform them, but later find that it is
impossible. In such a case we should explain matters and so relieve the
mind of the one to whom the promise was made and show him that the failure
to make good our word is not due to neglect or unwillingness. Keep your
business promises. Many persons get into debt and promise to pay and then
just let things drift along. This is wrong. Pay your debts when you agree
to, or give a reason for not doing so, and let it be a reason, not an
excuse. If you promise to do work for some one, do it. Keep your promise
if you must sacrifice to do so.

Many parents are very careless and inconsiderate regarding their promises
to their children. Children will “tease” for things if allowed. Too many
times parents make promises that they do not expect ever to fulfil, just
to be rid of the children’s asking. Children soon learn the value of such
promises, and they learn the value of your character. Do not lie to your
children; do not make promises to them unless you mean them. If you make
promises to them and then are not able to keep them, value your word
enough and their respect enough to explain to them the reason.

Reader, what is your word worth? What value do you place on it? What value
do others place on it? What value does God place on it? God wants you to
“speak the truth, and lie not.” Your standing, your influence, your
usefulness—all depend upon your faithfulness; and if you are faithful, you
will be faithful to your promises. Think seriously over these things. If
you are at fault, set about to amend. Such a fault will be a blight upon
your life and upon your character until it is corrected. When the Psalmist
pictures a righteous man, he says that he “sweareth [promiseth] to his own
hurt, and changeth not.” Are you that sort of righteous person?





TALK SIXTEEN. HOW TO KEEP OUT OF TROUBLE


Old Uncle John was not so spry as he had once been. There were only a few
black hairs left among the many gray ones. His limbs were shaky and his
steps faltering. He was “no good for work any more,” he said; but there
were two things that he kept on doing right along: he seemed to be always
smiling and he seemed to be always praising the Lord. “Happy John,” people
called him, and he certainly deserved the name. He did not seem to have
much of this world’s goods to make him glad. His lot in life did not
appear to be more than usually pleasant, nor was there anything in the way
of external evidence to show whence his happiness came. I had often sat
and gazed upon his placid face lifted in devotion to God. He never seemed
to get into trouble. No matter what happened, Uncle John seemed to have no
part in the trouble. With others, troubles came and troubles went, but
Uncle John still smiled and praised the Lord.

One day I was standing outside the meeting-house with a little company of
brethren, when Uncle John came walking out, smiling as usual and praising
the Lord. One of the brethren said to him, “Uncle John, how does it come
that you are always so happy and never seem to get into trouble?” He
stopped and looked at the speaker with a broad smile, and answered, “I
just praise the Lord and mind my own business.” He turned and walked away,
but his words lingered in my ears and were indelibly impressed upon my
memory. His secret was very simple, but very effective. And thus he went
on smiling, praising the Lord and minding his own business, and he was
“happy John” even to the end. Many years ago he went to his reward, but
the lesson that I learned that day has never been lost.

Uncle John’s rule for keeping out of trouble seemed very simple. It looks
very easy to mind one’s own business, but it is one of the hardest things
in the world to do, because it is one of the hardest things in the world
for us to be willing to do. The Scripture says, “Every fool will be
meddling,” and it is so hard for some folks not to act like fools, anyway
in this particular respect, even though they are ever so wise. The affairs
of others are so interesting to them! This is a very human trait, but it
sometimes leads to unpleasant consequences.

God knew the failing of people on this line, so he said, “Study to be
quiet, and to do your own business” (1 Thess. 4: 11). You have, no doubt,
studied a great many lessons, but have you studied this particular one? It
is evident that many have not yet learned this if they have studied over
it. Probably they did not know that it requires studying. Possibly they
never thought of it as being an object for study. But it is. We shall
never graduate in the school of wisdom until we study this lesson and
learn it thoroughly. “Study to be quiet and to do your own business.” That
is the lesson. Have you learned it? Some folks are always talking,
talking, talking. There seems to be no end to their talk. When people talk
so much they are sure to talk of some things that should not be talked of.
Some people can not keep an experience of salvation because they talk too
much, and as a result they have a great deal of spiritual trouble that
might be avoided. But, then, they are so interested in their friends and
neighbors! How can they help talking about them? Why, just let them spend
their time in studying to be quiet. Let them give themselves a few lessons
in minding their own business.

Peter had that human trait. He was interested in what John was going to
do. When he asked the Lord, “What shall this man do?” he received an
answer. He did not have to wait for it. It was this, “What is that to
thee? Follow thou me.” I have known many good Christian people who became
mixed up in neighborhood or family affairs and got into a great mess of
trouble because they failed to mind their own business. If there is a
dog-fight going on, all the dogs in the community seem to want to join in
it. There seems to be something in humanity that is very much the same. If
there is trouble in the community they want to mix into it some way or
another. Trouble is a thing that is much easier to get into than it is to
get out of.

More people get into trouble through the wrong use of their tongues than
through any other means, I suppose. The Wise Man says, “He that keepeth
his tongue keepeth his soul from trouble.” He also says, “The beginning of
strife is as when one letteth out water.” You know how it runs in every
direction, so that you can not gather it up again nor confine it. Never
meddle with the strife of others. You are sure of an abundant crop of
trouble if you do. It is written, “He that passeth by and meddleth with
strife belonging not to him is like one that taketh a dog by the ears.”
You know how that is: if he holds fast he will get into trouble, and if he
lets go he will get into trouble.

There are some people who are religious and who seem to get along pretty
well until their children get mixed up in trouble with some one. Just as
sure as that happens they are in the trouble, too. They think that their
children could not be to blame. They take the children’s part, and trouble
is the result. And when they have gotten out of the trouble, if they do
get out, they have dishonored both themselves and their religion. There
are others who can never let trouble alone if their friends or neighbors
are in it. They will mix in. They feel that they must defend their
friends, and they are often so partial in their feelings toward them that
they can not believe them to be in the wrong. They become all heated in
the thing, and before they know it they have a big case of spiritual
trouble on hand in addition to the other trouble.

When people get into trouble, they like to tell others about it. If you
have sympathetic ears for trouble, you can hear plenty of it. When you
hear such things, it is very easy to pass them on to some one else. Never
let yourself he a news-carrier for trouble. You will have trouble of your
own if you do. The only business that a Christian has in relation to such
troubles is as a peace-maker, and even then he must be very cautious and
wise, or he will become involved.

Few people want to take God’s way out of trouble. They will do anything to
have their own way out. We are told to leave off strife before it is
meddled with. That is the only safe way. While you are out, keep out; and
the only way to keep out is to mind your own business. Try Uncle John’s
rule. It will work very well. It is a splendid preventive of trouble.
Would you be happy? Would you have the confidence of your neighbors and
associates? Would you be free from worldly entanglements? Would you have a
contented heart and a cheerful mind? Would you be worthy of the esteem of
the people? Would you be different from worldly people? Would you be a
sunshine-bearer for your neighborhood? There is just one way to do it. You
must do as “happy John” did—smile, praise the Lord, and mind your own
business.





TALK SEVENTEEN. WHAT THE REDBIRD TOLD ME


It was a cold winter morning. Snow covered the ground. The frost on the
trees sparkled in the bright sunlight like ten thousand diamonds. But the
brightness outside seemed to find no reflection in me. I had been confined
to my bed for more than six months. I was gloomy and despondent. It seemed
as though all the light and joy had gone out of my life and that only pain
and suffering and sorrow were left to me. I had no desire to live. Again
and again I prayed that I might die. I should have welcomed any form of
death, even the most horrible. I had grown morbid, and almost despaired. I
had been prayed for again and again, but the healing touch came not. Life
seemed to hold for me no ray of hope, no gleam of sunshine.

As I lay brooding in my melancholy state, a red grosbeak, with his bright
red plumage, alighted on a tree a few feet from my window. His eyes
sparkled as he gazed at me with interest. He turned his head now this way
and now that, apparently studying me intently, and then he gave a cheery
call and hopped as near to me as he could get and repeated his cries over
and over. Somehow his cries took the form of words in my mind. This is
what he said to me: “You, you, you, cheer up, cheer up, cheer up.” He
hopped about from limb to limb, wiping his beak, picking at pieces of
bark, but ever and anon hopping back to look at me and cry again. “Cheer
up, cheer up, cheer up.” This he did for a long time, then he flew away,
only to return soon and to peer at me again, crying his merry “You, you,
you, cheer up, cheer up, cheer up.” For more than two hours he continued
to repeat this and then went away, and far in the distance I heard the
last echoes of his notes still saying, “Cheer up, cheer up.”

It seemed as though God had sent the bird to bring a message to my soul;
and as I thought of the cold and the snow and the winter winds, of the
bird’s uncertain supply of food, of his many enemies, and considered that,
in spite of all this, he could be so cheerful and gay, it made me feel
ashamed that I should be so melancholy and despondent. His message,
enforced by his example, sank into my heart. I began to think over the
favorable side of my situation. I began to consider how many things the
Lord had bestowed upon me in the past—his mercy, his kindness, and his
blessings. My heart took courage, hope began to lift herself up from the
dust I reflected over the way I had yielded to discouragement. I saw that
if I was ever to rise above it I must set myself resolutely to the task of
looking upon the bright side and of overcoming the gloom and heaviness.
The message of the bird made me ashamed to submit longer to my feelings. I
resolved then and there that I would be different. And from that day I
began to act and think and speak more cheerfully. Many times I had to act
contrary to the way I felt, but I found that this was having an influence
upon my feelings, and the more I practised being cheerful the more
cheerful I became. Many times I have been sorely pressed down in spirit,
but I have found that I can act cheerfully and talk cheerfully even in the
midst of depression, and that this is not hypocrisy, but the true way in
which to meet such things and conquer them.

Cheerfulness is largely a matter of habit. We must do one of two
things—either yield to our feelings and let them be our master or compel
our feelings to yield to us that we may be their master. It is a case of
conquering or being conquered. So many persons are at the mercy of their
emotions. If they do not feel well in body, or their mind is troubled, or
their spiritual sky is clouded, they yield themselves to gloomy thoughts
and look upon the dark side of the picture. Their thoughts and feelings
are reflected in their face, and actions and words. This, in turn, reacts
upon them, and they then feel worse in body and mind. Every one around
them knows how they feel. This is putting a premium on your bad feelings.
It is encouraging them. And it is a very bad habit. You can be cheerful if
you will. Do not wear your troubles on your face. Do not let them put a
note of sadness in your voice. Cease your sighing: you are only adding to
your burdens. Take the birds advice and cheer up. You can if you will. You
can hide your burdens instead of advertising them. To hide them will help
you to forget them. You have a place to put your burdens—“Casting all your
care upon Him.”

I still suffer; I still have periods of mental depression; but I have
learned to be cheerful and not let these things be on exhibition. I find
it now the easier, and by far the better, way. Cheerfulness is a habit;
get the habit. It depends upon you, not upon your circumstances. You can
rule your circumstances instead of letting them rule you. Take hold of
your bad feelings with a will and conquer them with cheerfulness. The task
may not be easy at first, but keep at it and you will win. Do not despair
if you lose a few battles. You may have cultivated gloom for so long a
time that it has become the fixed state of your mind. Overcome the habit.
God will help you. When your feelings become gloomy, say, “I will not be
so,” and force your mind into other channels. It will want to go back to
its former habit, but as often as you catch yourself thinking along gloomy
lines turn your thoughts back to the sunshine. Put good cheer into your
voice and a smile on your face, no matter how you feel. It will prove a
tonic for soul, mind, and body. Listen to the redbird. Hear his merry
“Cheer up, cheer up,” and act upon his advice. You will find it worth
while.





TALK EIGHTEEN. WHAT OLD BILL COULD NOT DO


Old Bill M— was a drunkard. Everybody knew it. People expected to see him
stagger as he walked; that was the common thing. As a young man he had
been the leader among his chums, and people thought he would make his mark
in the world. He had excelled most of his companions, but alas! it was not
in the things that make men noble and great. As people said, “The drink
was getting him.” He was a familiar figure in each of the three saloons in
A—. He was popular, for he was good-natured and jolly. He was still the
leader of a company, who called themselves the “bunch.” Each night they
made the rounds of the saloons, then at a late hour staggered homeward.

Yes, Old Bill was a drunkard. He had tried many times to quit. His friends
had warned him and advised him to quit. His wife had begged him a hundred
times, with tears running down her face. He had promised again and again,
had tried, over and over, to master the habit, but it held him fast. One
night when he went home, drunk as usual, he found his wife seriously ill.
Three days he watched by her bedside, and then the end came. In her dying
hour she laid her hand on his and asked him once more for her sake, and
his own, to quit drinking. Bill promised with hot tears falling like rain,
and he meant it with all his heart.

Two days later he followed her body to the church, and as he took his last
look at that still form, he vowed with all his strength of will never to
touch drink again. He walked silently back to his home, but it was not
home any more. He was heart-broken. What would he do? How could he bear
it? Presently two of his comrades came out to sympathize with him. After
talking a while, one pulled a bottle from his pocket, saying, “Here, Bill,
take a bit to brace you up.” “No, Jack,” he answered, “I’m going to quit
the stuff; I promised her I would.” “That’s all right,” said Jack, “but
you need a little now for your nerves.” He lifted the bottle to his own
lips, then held it uncorked in his hand. The odor entered Bill’s nostrils,
the old appetite asserted itself, and before he knew it he had seized the
bottle. A minute later it was empty! When Bill next came to realize what
was happening, it was a week later. He had been drunk all the time; he did
not even know what day it was; but when he realized what had happened, he
was stricken with remorse. He knew now, as never before, that drink was
his master.

Two years passed. His few belongings had been sold to pay the funeral
expenses; the remainder had gone for drink. Another family lived in the
home now. Mr. Wilson, a kind neighbor, had given him a home, and he worked
for him when he was sober enough. One evening as he was making his way to
the saloon as usual, he heard singing. “That’s strange,” he muttered;
“wonder what’s going on?” He turned and walked toward the singing and soon
found a large tent filled with people. “Queer-looking show,” he thought as
he approached the entrance. A pleasant-faced young man stepped up to him
and said, “Come in, Bill, and I will get you a good seat.” He mechanically
followed the usher in. The singing was good, and he enjoyed it. Presently
a man arose and, with tears running down his face, related that he had
been a drunkard, and that after years of trying to overcome the habit, he
had finally turned to God for help, and that he was now a free and happy
man. Bill understood the struggle part, but not the rest. He knew what it
meant to fail, and as he pondered he thought of his wife. Did she know how
he had broken his promise? Did she weep over him now as she used to?

Some one entered the pulpit and talked for a long time, but Bill did not
hear anything he said. Bill was thinking, thinking. There was a man who
had “beat the drink,” and he said the Lord had helped him. Bill wondered
if the Lord would help him. When the preacher finished, the first man rose
again; Bill straightened up and looked keenly. “Yes,” he thought, “he has
been a drinker all right, and a hard one; his face shows it.” The speaker
was inviting men to Christ for the help they needed.

Old Bill never quite knew how it happened, but he suddenly found himself
up in front holding the stranger’s hand and telling him that he wanted
help to quit drink. Side by side they knelt while the saved man earnestly
poured out his heart to God for the drunkard. Old Bill did not know how to
pray, he had never tried in his life, but he wanted help; all his soul
longed for it. He listened to the other man praying. He was asking for
just what Bill needed; his heart joined in. Yes, he wanted to quit
drinking; he wanted to be a good man, but he had to have help. The other
man prayed as though God were right close by, and Bill felt that He must
be, so he said: “Yes, God, I’ll quit it if you’ll help me. I’ll be a man
if you’ll help me, but I can’t do it by myself!” That was all, but he
meant it, and he felt that God would help him. A strange, quiet peace came
into his heart, and he really felt happy. He went home sober that night.

Some of the “bunch” outside the tent had seen Bill go forward, and soon
the news was in all the saloons. “He’ll be back by Saturday night,” they
said. But he did not come back. Instead he was in the meeting telling the
people what wonderful things God had done for him. He did not want strong
drink any more at all, he declared. The “bunch” did not believe this. They
laughed and made many prophecies; they waited week by week, but Old Bill
came to the saloon no more. Two years passed; Bill lived a joyful
Christian life and never tired of telling what the Lord had done for him.
He went out to a country schoolhouse, where he organized a Sunday-school
and labored zealously and successfully.

There were many temptations. At first the “bunch” laughed and made him the
butt of many rude jests, then they laid plans to trap him. One day one of
them stuck an open whisky-bottle under his nose, saying, “Smell it, Bill;
ain’t it a fine odor?” Bill stepped back, all smiles, and said quietly,
“Well, Tom, drink was my master a long time, but I have a better Master
now.” He went on his way unobstrusively but steadily, and finally won the
respect and confidence of all.

At last the end came; Old Bill was dead. There was a peaceful smile upon
his face, for his sun had gone down in splendor. The “bunch” followed him
to the grave. They could not quite understand even yet what had happened
to him. It was a wonderful change, and his life had won their respect, and
they followed him silently to his last resting-place. After the burial
they stood talking it over in a little group by themselves, “I thought the
drink had him sure,” said one; “I don’t see how he beat it.” “It was not
Bill who did it,” said a quiet voice behind them; “it was Jesus Christ.”
They turned and saw the pastor walking away. “Guess the parson must have
it right,” said one of them. “It was a pretty good job, too.”





TALK NINETEEN. DIVINE AND WORLDLY CONFORMITY


The Scriptures say, “Be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed
by the renewing of your mind” (Rom. 12: 2). They also say that we should
be “conformed to the image of his Son” (Rom. 8: 29). We have here two
sorts of conformity, one of which is condemned and the other approved.
Much is said by some classes of religious professors about worldly
conformity, while little is said about divine conformity. It is my purpose
herein to point out the essential nature of these two kinds of conformity.

By worldly conformity most religious teachers mean outward likeness of
dress, manner, customs, etc. This, however, is not its true significance.
Conformity to Christ does not mean dressing as he dressed, speaking the
language that he spoke, eating the same kind of food that he ate, or
observing any of those externals that went to make up his life.

In the true meaning of the word, conformity goes deeper than externals.
Two things may look very much alike and yet be very different in their
natures. Pyrites of iron looks so much like gold that it has deceived many
a person into thinking that he had found riches. For this reason it is
called “fool’s gold.” Likewise things may outwardly seem very different,
while in reality they are very much the same. A sparkling diamond seems
very different from a lump of coal, but the chief difference is only in
the arrangement of their particles. Both are composed chiefly of carbon,
so in nature they conform closely to each other.

Conformity is a thing of nature, not of external appearance. We are “by
nature the children of wrath.” Our likeness to the world consists in a
likeness of character, and for that reason we are told that we must be
transformed. This transformation is a change of character; it has to do,
first of all, with internals, not with externals.

Conformity to the world in most externals is not only advisable but
necessary. We wear clothing as the world does; we live in houses built
like those around us; we speak the same language as sinners; we have the
same habits of thought and speech in general that they have; we use the
same implements and tools; we raise the same crops; we employ the same
methods of work and business; in fact, we conform to the world in all
these things. We can not avoid doing this without sacrificing what is
vital and proper in our lives. Conformity to the world in these externals
becomes evil only when such conformity has its origin in an evil principle
in the heart or when it produces an evil effect.

When Christ prayed for his disciples, he said, “Keep them from the evil.”
Paul said, “As using and not abusing.” It is that which is evil, or the
evil use that is made of externals, that is obnoxious to God. A proper use
of all things is permissible, and if our hearts are conformed to God, we
naturally desire and seek only the proper use of things. But the natural
heart is wicked; it is set on pleasing itself; it is full of vanity and
pride. So long as this condition exists, the heart is not conformed to
God. There must be a transformation, and this is not one which starts from
the outside and works inward, for such at best could be only a
reformation. The real transformation is a thing that begins on the inside
and works a vital change in the spiritual condition and character. When
this internal change is wrought, it gives a new quality and direction to
the whole range of thought and activity. It manifests itself in new
desires and aspirations, in new habits and customs, in newness of speech
and looks and behavior. When we are transformed so that we become new
creatures in Christ Jesus, we begin to act like new creatures. But our
bodies are not transformed: we still have bodies of flesh, which retain
their natural desires and appetites, and these we may gratify in a lawful
way without sin.

When the heart is transformed and purified from its vanity and pride,
these qualities will not be manifested in external things. But so long as
pride and vanity remain in the heart, preaching to people and requiring
them to cease wearing worldly adornment is like trying to kill a tree by
pulling off some of its leaves—the people may layoff such things under
pressure, but they are no better than before. People must be taught the
Bible standard of externals, but the chief thing is to get their hearts
right. When the heart is conformed to the image of Christ, the words of
the old song are true of it:


    “There’s no thirsting for life’s pleasure,
      Nor adorning rich and gay;
    For I’ve found a richer treasure,
      One that fadeth not away.”


Neither force nor persuasion is required to get persons with such an
experience to act properly regarding external things.

In carrying out their idea of non-conformity to the world, some bodies of
people have adopted a special garb or a special form of speech to
distinguish them from others. This, however, is not a mark of real
non-conformity, but a mark of sectarianism. The true and only difference
needful between ourselves and the world in externals is that we are to
reject those things that are evil or that produce evil. All things else
are lawful to us, though these lawful things must also be judged by the
law of expediency.

Conformity to Christ means conformity in character. It means purity of
desire, so that our hearts reach out for only those things that are pure,
and we are moved by pure motives and actuated by holy purposes. It means
that we have a conscience toward God in whatever we do. It means to put
his will before everything else. It means that the dominating purpose of
our life will be to please him in every detail, and not ourselves. A heart
like this is not attracted by the vain and sinful things of the world; on
the contrary, it is repelled by them.

When the person is adorned with gold, jewels, costly or gaudy array, or
immodest clothing, we must needs look for the root in the heart. There is
where the trouble lies. There is the seat of the desire. It is useless to
take off the externals while the internal corruption is permitted to
continue. God hates all vanity and pride. There is no such element in his
character. If we are conformed to him, there is no such element in our
character; and if our character is purged from these things, we have no
desire for their external manifestations. God loves meekness and modesty,
and these are the opposites of display. If we are meek and modest in
character, our dress and deportment will manifest these qualities. If we
do not manifest them, it is because we do not possess them.

It may not be out of place here to call attention to the Bible principles
relating to the subject of dress and personal adornment. In beginning this
phase of the subject we should note that the gospel is not a set of rules,
but a revelation of moral principles. It is intended for all people in all
countries, climates, and ages. We should not, therefore, expect that these
principles as they relate to dress would be revealed in other than the
most general terms, or applied to the details of the subject. There is
just one principle involved; we may sum up the whole subject under that
one heading. The Bible standard of dress consists of just three words, but
these three words cover the whole scope of life. They are, “in modest
apparel” (1 Tim. 2: 9). This is the standard, and this is the whole
standard. We are given a hint regarding how to apply this standard, but
our own good judgment is sufficient to draw the line in the right place,
provided our hearts are conformed to the divine image. There is no excuse
for fanaticism any more than there is for pride. Sound judgment and good
sense will help us avoid both extremes.

A definition of modesty is, “Restrained within due limits of propriety;
free from indecency or lewdness; not excessive or extreme; moderate.” A
Christian’s apparel should be modest in cut, that is, in the way it is
made; it should cover the body as a modest person would cover it, not
displaying those parts that the prevailing standards of modesty require to
be covered.(1) Judged by this standard, very many religious professors
come far short, their clothing being less than decency really requires.
Such a thing, of course, does not have its origin in a pure heart. The
woman who displays herself to attract attention is anything but modest.

Clothing should be made to conform to modesty in all other respects also.
Useless things added to one’s apparel for the purpose of display and show
do not conform to modesty. “Loud” and flashy colors are not modest. The
Bible does not forbid us to wear any particular shade, but there are
shades and combinations that are showy and gaudy, and by their extremeness
violate modesty, for modesty is the avoidance of extreme. Whatever we
wear, it should be modest in color just as well as in other particulars.

Christian apparel should be modest in texture; that is, it should not be
so thin that it displays the body or the underwear. No man thinks a woman
modest who wears goods so thin as to display her under-garments, or
hosiery so thin as to display her limbs. Such things are very unbecoming
to saints, and of course not less so to other people. Sisters, dress so
that a modest man will not feel embarrassed in your presence.

Apparel should be modest as to cost. It should not be what the Scriptures
term “costly array.” It is well to buy good material, and for such we must
pay a good price, but this is not what the Bible means by “costly array.”
It means not to be extravagant. We should not waste money, but make the
best possible use of it.

Some have thought it wrong to try to make our clothes becoming. This is
not the case. The Bible says “that women _adorn_ themselves in modest
apparel”; that is, their apparel should be such as adorns or becomes them,
so long as it is modest clothing. It should be adapted in cut, color,
etc., to harmonize with the complexion, size, and height of the person. We
owe it to ourselves to make a good appearance. To make ourselves
outlandish in any way is neither wise nor right. It is violating modesty,
and this is not consistent. It is only when we make a proper appearance
that we can have a proper influence, and so be effective for God.

God delights in modesty in dress, in words, in actions—in all things.
Pride and show are an abomination to him, and if we conform to him in our
inner life and character, outward conformity will naturally follow; but if
inward desire runs out after that which is immodest and gaudy, if the
heart desires to display upon the person gold and jewels and finery, it is
because it does not conform to the image of God’s Son, but to the world.





TALK TWENTY. BAPTIZED WITH FIRE


John the Baptist said, when speaking of the work of the coming Messiah,
“He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire.” The symbolic
tongues of fire which sat on the believers on the day of Pentecost
represented a very real something which from henceforth would be
manifested in their lives. It is not my purpose here to enter into an
explanation of the Baptist’s words. I wish to speak only of the fervency
which fire represents as it should characterize our lives. The life that
has in it no fervency has little or nothing of God. The soul that is
vigorous in God is a soul full of power. We need to be “on fire” for God,
and there are three ways in which this fervency should manifest itself.

A Burning Love.

We need a fervent love. It is the foundation, as it were, of all Christian
fervency. If our love lacks fervency, it lacks the vital element that
makes it effective. If our love for God is kindled into a burning passion,
it will put him before all else. His will and desire will be the delight
of our hearts. His service will be no task, to sacrifice for him will be
easy, and to obey him will be our meat. It will make our consciences
tender toward him. What he loves we shall love, and whom he loves we shall
love. If our love is fervent, we shall love truth, and we shall love it as
it is worthy to be loved—above our own opinions or ideas and more than the
teachings of men. We will not sacrifice it or deny it for ease or comfort
or to please others. We shall strive to make our lives conform to it. We
shall labor with all our strength to spread it over the world. If we love
the truth, we shall be missionaries whether we are at home or abroad. Love
begets labor.

A fervent love of the brethren glows in the heart that is full of God. It
will burn up criticism and backbiting. It will burn up division and
strife. It will destroy jealousy and envy. It will make peace in the home,
in the church, and in the individual heart. A thousand troubles come when
love grows cold: the eyes see no more as they once saw, the ears hear no
more as before, the tongue talks differently, and the heart feels
differently, the glow dies out of the eyes, the tenderness leaves the
touch, sympathy wanes in the heart, and there is ashes for beauty and
heaviness instead of praise. When the first love is left, when the divine
fire is quenched, out of the life has gone its richness, its transfiguring
beauty; and what is left?

O brother, sister, keep the red glow of fervency in your love. If you have
lost it, rest not till it is rekindled. Love makes us strong to do and to
bear. John Knox said to God, “Give me Scotland or I die.” That was love
that shook a kingdom. Paul counted not his life dear to him. That was love
that overthrew the idols of the heathen. God “so loved the world,” and a
new era dawned, bringing light and salvation. If we have such love, it
will work out in effectual action. A church fervent in love is a church
reaching out and winning others. It is a church with an all-absorbing
passion for the lost. Let us ask ourselves today, “Have I a fervent love?
or am I cold and has my love lost its strength?”

A Burning Zeal.

A man or a church without zeal is of necessity ineffective. What is the
temperature of your zeal? Does it let you go for months without speaking
to a soul about his salvation? Does it permit you to rest easy while
others are toiling, praying, and sacrificing? About how much time on an
average do you spend each day praying for souls, or for the progress of
the kingdom of God in the earth? About how often do you pray definitely
for some of your neighbors, your friends, or business associates? About
how long has it been since you invited some one to Christ? When did you
pray with some one for his spiritual needs? When did you speak encouraging
words? When did you give some one a tract or paper? When did you write a
letter filled with spiritual advice or help? How much sacrifice are you
making for the cause? How much time, labor, or money have you expended for
the kingdom in the past year? Is your zeal dead, or is it in fervent
activity? How much does the salvation of the world mean to you?

Behold the zeal of the advocates of some of the false movements of these
days! See how they pour out their money like water. See how they never can
be satisfied unless they are laboring for their movement. Are we as
zealous as they? If not, why not? If we have the truth and know that we
have it, should not that be enough to fire our zeal till it would not let
us rest while there are others in darkness? Almost in sight of you, or
perhaps within a stone’s throw, are people who do not know the truth. If
you do no more than you have done the past year, may they not live and die
there and never know it?

Zeal does not ask for excuses. Zeal is never satisfied till it has gone
full length in labor. When one man was asked what was the secret of the
marvelous success of the early church in its fight against heathenism, he
replied with just one word, “Zeal.” The same sort of zeal will produce
results today. Zeal must, of course, be enlightened. It can succeed only
when guided by wisdom. Blind zeal is like a blind horse: it is likely to
run in any direction regardless of results. So be wise when you are
zealous. If you are truly wise with that wisdom “which cometh down from
above,” you will also be zealous.

A Fervent Hatred.

A good Christian is a good hater. “Ye that love the Lord hate evil.” This
is an age of toleration. Almost any false doctrine may be preached, while
many of the religious teachers of so-called orthodoxy plod on their way
indifferently. Error thrives, a multitude of souls are deceived, but many
seem but little concerned. Evil raises its head everywhere and sneers at
the Christian people. Dens of vice, gambling-houses, lewd picture-shows,
and a hundred other forms of evil are tolerated and even looked upon as
“necessary evils” by religious professors. He who really loves God just as
truly hates all evil. He so hates it in himself that he will give it no
place in his heart or life. He hates it in others. He sees no pleasant
thing in it. To him it is foul, vile, and revolting. It is his enemy, and
he is its bitter foe. The measure of his love for good is the measure of
his hatred for evil. We can not love the good more than we hate the evil.
The two exactly balance in our lives.

A burning love, a burning zeal, and a burning hatred will make your life
as a beacon-light to the world; and if you would be a true example of what
God means men to be, you must have this fervency in your life. It alone
can keep you from coldness. It alone can make you a prosperous, victorious
Christian.





TALK TWENTY-ONE. WHAT TO DO WITH THE DEVIL


Some people say there is no devil, but I am convinced that he is very
real. In fact, I have had some personal experiences with him that leave no
room for doubt. He is right here in this world. Like a lion he “goeth
about seeking whom he may devour.” What to do with him is the biggest
problem that faces some Christians. They spend so much time thinking about
the devil, fearing him, and trying to combat him, that they have little
time for God. Their testimony is a testimony of the devil’s doings and
their conflict with him. Their religion is a negative, not a positive,
thing. It consists in _not_ doing and _not_ being, _not_ thinking and
_not_ feeling or in trying not to. They are working on the problem from
the wrong end. Our problem is to do and be, to live a positive life. Life
is for accomplishment and for character-building. The overcoming of the
obstacles that we meet is only incidental; it is not the main purpose of
our lives. A great many persons think that they could accomplish great
things and be wonderful Christians if it were not for the devil. What to
do with him is their problem. I shall tell you what to do.

_First, do not be afraid of him._ Have you not read these words, “Greater
is he that is in you, than he that is in the world”? If you will just
believe that, you will have no cause to fear the devil. Do you not know
that God is in you? and if he is in you, is he not more than a match for
your adversary? “If God be for us, who can be against us?” Satan may
oppose us, but he can not prevail against us. His opposition and his
schemes will be brought to naught. Just add a little boldness to faith,
and you will overcome him. Do not be frightened at his roaring. He can not
touch you unless God permits, and if God permits him, it will only be to
give you the greater victory in the end. Are you God’s child? Will he
permit anything that will do you permanent ill? Do not fear the devil;
trust God. Give your attention and strength to pleasing him. If you will
keep busy doing this, you will not have so much trouble with Satan. God
does not want you to be shivering with fear. He wants you to “be strong in
the Lord and in the power of his might.”

Satan is like a lion; but when a lion roared against Samson, that man slew
the beast with his naked hands because the Spirit of the Lord was upon
him. If, instead of fearing, you will trust in the Lord to put his Spirit
upon you when there is need of it, you may overcome Satan as easily as
Samson did the lion. Daniel was thrown into the lions’ den, but they did
not eat him. God put a muzzle on them, not a literal muzzle, but something
still more effectual, and they could not touch Daniel.

Being afraid of the devil is much like being afraid of the darkness. When
I was a boy, I was bold enough to go where I wanted to in the darkness;
but when I started for the house again, I could imagine that dogs and
bears and all sorts of frightful things might be anywhere about, so I
would run at full speed. There might have been something, but if so, I
never really knew it; but I would get panic-stricken just the same. If you
become frightened this way in spiritual things, you may look upon it as
only a childish habit. You will never be a “really and truly” grown-up man
or woman for God until you get over your foolish fear of the devil. We are
told to “resist him stedfast in the faith.” It is faith that counts. If
you have a gun, a crow will not fly near you. If you have faith, the devil
will be more afraid of you than you are of him. Try using this weapon on
him. You will find it very effectual.

_Second, do not run from him._ A man from the East was once riding over a
Western prairie with a party of friends, when he saw an Indian walking
along. While he was looking at the Indian, an angry bull, which had been
bellowing and pawing up the ground, suddenly charged the Indian. Instead
of his running, as the Easterner expected him to do, he simply turned
about, folded his arms, stood stock-still, and faced the angry animal. It
came charging down till it was almost upon him, then suddenly stopped,
looked at him, and ran around him. The Indian stood motionless. The animal
bellowed and pawed and ran round and round him. He did not move, and the
animal did not touch him, but presently went off and left him alone, after
which the Indian went on his way as though nothing had happened. There is
a good lesson in that for us. There is no use to run from the devil, for
he can run faster than we can. Our victory is often won by our standing
still to see the salvation of God.

_Third, watch._ That is what our Lord commanded, but he did not say,
“Watch the devil.” The thing that we need to watch most is where our own
feet are going. If we allow ourselves to be occupied in watching Satan, we
may get out of the path and not know it. The Bible also says, “looking
unto Jesus,” not, “looking unto Satan.” It is from God that our help
comes. When we look at Satan, he appears great and terrible. When we look
to God, We see his greatness and realize how much greater he is than
Satan, and our courage rises, our strength is increased, our fears vanish,
and we become confident. Look to God and where your own feet are going,
and let God manage the devil.

_Fourth, ignore him._ There is nothing Satan hates so much as to be
ignored. For us to calmly go upon our way unafraid and trustful, not
dismayed by his roaring, is not at all to his liking. If we will keep our
hearts and minds occupied with good things and pay no attention to his
threats, we shall find that he will go off and leave us. He may soon
return, but if you meet him in the same way, he will not linger around you
as he will if he can hold your attention upon himself.

You have better use for your time than to let the enemy occupy it. Use it
in active service for God. Jesus said he would give us “rest unto our
souls.” Do you have that rest? God means for you to have it, but you can
not have it if you keep your attention on Satan all the time. He will
tantalize you if you will let him. While you are looking unto Jesus, you
will not see the faces that Satan makes at you, and so will not be
troubled. If you will listen to God, you will not have time to listen to
Satan. If he is constantly troubling you, it is because you are giving him
opportunity. He is a conquered foe. The victory is yours, if you will have
it so.





TALK TWENTY-TWO. WAITING ON THE LORD


Some people are always in a hurry about things. If they want to do
something or to have something, they can not wait, they must do it or have
it at once. When they are compelled to wait, the time seems very long and
their impatience grows with every delay. They can not quietly and
patiently wait for anything.

Such persons bring this same characteristic into their spiritual lives.
When they pray, they want an immediate answer—they want God to hurry up.
If the answer is delayed, they get all worked up about it. Sometimes they
murmur against the Lord and feel very bad, like spoiled children.
Sometimes they pray a few times for what they desire, and if the answer
does not come they conclude that God does not mean to answer them; so they
give up seeking for it and sometimes question God’s faithfulness. If they
see something that needs doing or something that is not going to please
them, it must be remedied immediately; if it is not, they are much
displeased. They can not wait for a propitious time or till things have
worked out so that they can be properly handled. Their motto seems to be,
“Do it now.” That is all very well for some things, but quite frequently
it is necessary to patiently wait on the Lord and upon others. We can not
hurry the Lord; all time is his. He works according to his own purposes
and will, according to his own wisdom and plans. We can not choose for
him; we must be willing for him to choose for us. It must be his to say
both as to “when” and “how.” Ours is to wait and trust, his to choose and
do.

Many years ago I read a story. Later, when I was lying on my bed of
affliction and praying earnestly for God to restore my health, he brought
to my mind this story and applied its lesson to my soul. It was such a
help to me that I will give it to you also. I had been much troubled
because I was not healed. I would pray very earnestly, with a longing that
seemed to draw out all my soul. Others would pray also, but there was no
answer from God. Disappointment and discouragement seemed to shut me in
with walls of darkness. A feeling of helplessness and almost of utter
hopelessness came over me. I was in this condition when God brought to my
memory this long-forgotten story and applied it to my heart with a
peculiar emphasis that made it a direct message from him to my soul.

This is the story: The king of a certain country was growing old, and he
had no son to succeed him. He announced to his people that he would choose
an heir to the throne from among the young men of the country by a
competitive test which would give all an equal chance. On the day
appointed a great number of young men presented themselves. A certain test
was made, and some failed while others passed. Then other tests came, and
each time some were rejected till at last only three were left.

They were put through test after test, but all seemed equally able to meet
them, so the king announced through his heralds that on the next day the
matter would be decided by a foot-race. The course was marked off, the
judges were at their places, and all was ready. Just at this time a man
came up to each of the contestants and said secretly to him, “The king is
taking special note of you. Do not run when the signal is given until the
king gives you a special signal.” The three took their places eager for
the race. The signal was given, one bounded forward quickly, then
hesitated and stopped; then another sprang forward after him, upon which
the first started forward again and they ran for the goal with all speed.
The third stood looking anxiously at the king and at the two runners,
murmuring to himself, “I can make it yet, I can make it yet.” The king
gazed at the runners and gave no heed to the one still standing. The
waiting man thought himself forgotten and soon realized that it would be
impossible for him to win the race. He felt that all was lost for him.

The two runners ran on at top speed, reaching the goal together. They were
brought back, and all three stood before the king. To the first he said,
“Were you not told not to run until I gave you the signal? Why then did
you run?”

“I forgot,” said the man.

Of the second he asked the same question. His reply was, “I thought it
would be but a moment till you would give the signal, and seeing the other
running I ran also.”

To the third he said, “And why did not you run?”

“Because you did not give me the signal, sir,” he answered.

“My son,” said the king, “I knew that you could run, but I did not know
that you could wait.”

So the young man found that the test was not a test of doing but of
waiting. And thus the Lord said to me that day, “I knew that you could
run, I knew that you would work with all your strength; but can you wait
on me?” These words have been repeated over and over in my heart during
the long years. It was a hard lesson to learn, and many times I have grown
weary, many times I have longed for the end of the waiting; but that
lesson has helped me to bear and to wait and to be patient in the waiting.
Sometimes it has seemed that the answer would never come. Sometimes it has
seemed that the Lord had forgotten. Many times I have had to say to my
heart, “Be patient and wait.” This is the hardest lesson that many of us
ever have to learn, but learn it we must if God’s will and his plan are to
be fulfilled in our lives.

There are some things for which we do not need to wait, but for which we
need to press our petitions with earnestness and diligence and with an
out-reaching grasp of faith for a “now” answer—for example, the supplying
of a soul-need, such as forgiveness or sanctification, or physical or
other help where the need is urgent. Sometimes people think that it is not
the Lord’s time to save or sanctify them or to give them something else
that is needed at once, when the trouble is they do not get in earnest
enough or do not exercise faith as they might. God’s time for necessary
things, and especially for salvation work, is _now_; and if we do not
receive when we seek, we may look for the fault in ourselves or in our
manner of seeking. Waiting on the Lord is not needful in this class of
things and it will only hinder receiving. There are, however, many other
things for which we may not know God’s time and in the case of which
growing impatient and trying to force matters will grieve God and hinder
us. Unfulfilled desire patiently and submissively met is often a powerful
factor in character-building.

Have you prayed for things, yearned for them, reached out after them, and
yet your prayer is not yet answered? Have you been tempted to believe that
it was of no use to seek for them? If you are not seeking selfishly, or if
God has not denied you, do not lose faith. God has said, “Ask, and ye
shall receive”; and again he says, “They shall not be ashamed that wait
for me” (Isa. 49: 23). God is faithful. He knows what is best. As a loving
Father he watches over you. His ear is open to your cry. We are told to
“rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him.” Do not grow impatient, do
not become wrought up, but while you must wait on the Lord, rest in him.
Jeremiah tells us how to wait for God to deliver—“It is good that a man
should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord” (Lam. 3:
26). Think of that expression, “hope and quietly wait.” Do not these words
mean confidence and soul-rest? Do they not mean assurance and trust? They
do not mean, however, that we should be careless. They imply activity of
faith and desire, but they shut out fear and unbelief. The Psalmist says,
“Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine
heart” (Psa. 27: 14). Keep up your courage while you wait, do not grow
despondent, be strong in faith; God will not fail.

Again, we are exhorted to “wait on the Lord, and keep his way” (Psa. 37:
34). If wrongs are not righted, if persecutions continue, if, like Paul,
we have a “thorn in the flesh” and our desires are not granted, let us do
what this text tells us—let us “keep His way.” Let us serve the Lord just
as truly as though conditions were ideal and all our desires satisfied.
Let us show our fidelity to God, by being true whether circumstances are
favorable or unfavorable. God promised Abraham the land of Canaan, but he
went up and down in it for many years as a stranger. His posterity went
into Egypt and there, under the lash of the taskmaster, they waited,
waited, waited. Did not they have God’s promise? Had he not said that that
goodly land should be theirs? Why did he wait so long? Was this the way
that he fulfilled his promise? Had he forgotten them? Did their cries to
him fall on deaf ears? Their waiting was not easy. It was long and oh, how
wearisome! Why did God wait so long, was there any adequate reason? Yes,
when God waits there is always a good reason for the waiting. His acts are
not arbitrary; he does not act according to caprice; he acts wisely and
when it is best. He tells us why he delayed in this case—it was because
the sins of the Canaanites had not yet come to the full. When they reached
that point, the Lord fulfilled his promise and led the children of Israel
out of their bondage into that goodly land.

Have you learned this lesson of waiting upon the Lord? Can you commit your
ways to him and feel that if desire is still unsatisfied, if obstacles are
not yet removed, if trials yet bear upon you, the Father-love is not
growing cold, nor his hearing dull, nor has he forgotten? In the proper
time and way the answer will be sure, and because of the delay the answer
will be fuller and will enrich you more than if it had come when first you
asked. Wait patiently on the Lord, trust also in him, be not weary in
well-doing, and out of your waiting will come strength, and out of your
sorrow will come rejoicing, and out of the bitterness will come sweetness,
and at the end of the way you will find a crown and life everlasting.





TALK TWENTY-THREE. THREE NECESSARY “RATIONS”


The soul, like the body, must have something to nourish and strengthen it,
to give it vigor and vitality. An army will have neither the strength nor
the courage to fight unless it has its rations. And if I may be allowed a
play on words, I may say that there are three rations which are very
needful to every Christian. Without these he must be weak and faltering
and of little service, but with them he may be a pillar of strength in the
temple of God.

The first of these “rations” is _aspiration_, or ardent desire. Strong
desire is one of the greatest incentives of life. To be contented as we
are is one of the most fatal hindrances to progress and activity. There is
nothing to stir us to action when desire is satisfied. The trouble with a
great multitude of people is that they are satisfied when conditions do
not warrant it. If we are to make progress in the Christian life or
accomplish anything for God, we must have strong aspirations. These are as
a spur to our energies. Aspiration is the cure for being “at ease in
Zion.” Aspirations are good or bad according to the motive that prompts
them. Some are essentially selfish, and such are necessarily evil. If we
desire to be or do for selfish advantage, for glory and praise; if we
aspire to be leaders, as so many religious people do, only that they may
have authority or honor—our aspirations are evil. But each one of us owes
it to himself and to God to desire strongly to be and to do his best for
God.

What is the temperature of your spiritual aspirations today? Are you so
well satisfied that desire is cold and almost lifeless? or are you
reaching out to the things that are before with an eager yearning? No
matter how good or how holy you may be, if you look Christward until you
see the depths of his submission to the Father, the length of his love for
souls, the heights of his lofty purity and unworldliness, the tenderness
of his sympathy, the richness of his communion with the Father, his
self-abnegation, his humility, and his unswerving faithfulness, your soul
will feel itself so immeasurably beneath Christ that you can not help
longing to be more like him. It will create in your soul an inexpressible
aspiration to draw further away from this old world with its trifles and
its follies and to draw nearer to Christ, to be more like him in your
inner life, and to act more like him in your outward life. If you look
only at self and self-interest, your spiritual aspirations will fade away;
but as you look away from self and behold Him who is altogether lovely,
the more you look upon him the greater will be your desire to be conformed
to his likeness and submitted to his will.

Each of us ought to desire to be our best for God. Do not be content to be
one of the “weak ones,” or even an average Christian. Those souls who rise
above the average, those who are bright lights in their communities, are
not the ones who are easily satisfied with their attainments, nor are they
the ones who are willing to be this year as they were last year or the
year before. You, as well as anyone else, can be a bright light if you
will. You can be spiritual if you will. It is not a question of God’s
blessing some more than others; it is a question of desire that spurs to
active effort to become spiritual.

There is much work to be done, and you have a part in that work. How great
that part may be depends more upon your desire to work than upon anything
else. Are you, like many professed Christians, willing enough for others
to work and willing to be idle yourself? If you really _want_ to do
something for the kingdom, there is something that you can do. If you are
willing to do anything, no matter what, God will see that you have
something to do. No matter how small your task is, it is worth doing well.
Look upon the fields, not those afar off, but those about you. All around
you are souls going to destruction. Forget your own concern. Look at the
needs about you till your heart is filled with desire for these souls,
till you covet them for the Master as a miser covets gold. Then you will
find work enough to do and strength to do it.

The second “ration” is _inspiration_. There is so much half-hearted work,
so much done mechanically, so much form in worship and service. What we
need is enthusiasm. We hear much about artistic inspiration and poetic
inspiration, but what we really need most of all is spiritual inspiration.
Religious forms are cold and dead until there is put into them the warmth
of enthusiasm. Get your soul filled with this glowing warmth. It will
lighten your tasks. It will bring success instead of failure. It will be a
well-spring of joy. It will make an optimist of you. It will help you
break down barriers. It will enable you to surmount obstacles. It will put
the shout of victory in your soul in the very face of your foes. An
enthusiastic man is a victorious man. An enthusiastic church is a
victorious church. Enthusiastic work and worship are filled with a
vitality that makes them worth while.

Do not be content to be a formalist. Throw yourself into your work. Go at
things as though you meant business. Do not be a lazy Christian. An
indolent way of doing things can be neither joyful nor successful. The
more of your heart you put into your work, the more it will mean to you,
and the more it means to you, the more you can accomplish. Have confidence
that you will succeed, for confidence will help you attain to your
desires. Your energy wisely directed has in it the very element of
success. Look at what others are accomplishing by hard work and
perseverance. The same qualities in you will win. But keep this one thing
in view, that without inspiration or enthusiasm you lack much of the
winning quality. Cultivate enthusiasm. Do with your might what your hands
find to do.

The third “ration” needful is _consideration_. This serves as a balance
for the two former rations. Its absence has caused disaster many times.
Many people grow very enthusiastic and aspire to great things, but because
they lack consideration they run into wild fanaticism and go to great
extremes; and as a result both they and their religion lose the respect
and confidence of the people. How especially true this is in some of the
modern holiness movements! Their adherents give themselves over to
unseemly demonstrations, ignore good judgment, and teach things and do
things they would not if they stopped to carefully consider them.

Salvation and all that pertains to it stand on the foundation of wisdom
and good sense. Anything that is not according to these is out of harmony
with the true principles of religion. So we should weigh our every act and
all our teachings in the balance of good judgment. What in our lives or
teaching does not appeal to the sound judgment and good sense of others
had better be rejected. Genuine holiness, because of its reasonableness,
appeals to the intellect and heart of every man. Extremism and fanaticism
are not part of true religion. Throw plenty of enthusiasm into your work,
but see to it that that enthusiasm is held in proper channels by
consideration. Do not let it overflow without bounds. It is sure to run in
the wrong direction if you do.

God has given us the power of consideration and understanding to control
and guide our energies. By means of these faculties we get the highest and
best use of our powers. To act without consideration is very often to act
wrongly. God’s acts are always wise, and to be godlike means for us to use
what wisdom he gives to us.

Let us be sure that we have these three needful “rations” and that we make
the use of them that God has designed. We shall then be successful
Christians and accomplish the work that it pleases God for us to do.
Aspire to be and do your best. Throw your soul into whatever you
undertake. Be careful and considerate in all your ways, so that you “shall
neither be barren nor unfruitful,” but that you “shall be like a tree
planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his
season.”





TALK TWENTY-FOUR. A RETREAT, OR A ROUT?


Armies often suffer defeat, but there is a great difference in the way
they take defeat. Sometimes an army is overcome and driven out of its
position, but retreats only as far as it must, then turns again upon the
foe to courageously renew the conflict. Other armies have been defeated,
and in a panic have thrown away their weapons and fled in disorder. The
first, though defeated, retains its honor, while the others have nothing
but shame.

Similar things are seen in individual lives. There are those who suffer
temporary defeat, but who count it only temporary and set themselves
immediately to the task of gathering together their forces and retrieving
what they have lost. Others, when they realize a defeat, give up all as
lost, throw down their weapons, and cease to fight. They forsake the ranks
of God’s people, sometimes for a very trifling reason, and go back into
the world and suffer the shame that attaches to a backslider. The serious
part of this is that many can do such a thing and consider it a rather
light matter. Instead of being a light matter, turning away from God is
one of the most terrible things that a soul can do and one which is often
fraught with the direst results and would be every time were it not for
the exceeding mercy of God. How it is that one who has ever truly loved
God can turn away from him and plunge again into the follies of the world,
doing those things which he knows God abhors, is more than I can
understand. Sometimes those who once seemed to be quite spiritual are now
among the most wicked, even worse than before they ever made a profession.

In one of the Southern States lived a lady who had at different times
professed to be saved, but as often backslid. Her daughter, while
conversing with me one day, said, “When Mother goes back, she goes full
length to the world.” She went on to tell me that when her mother gave up
her profession she at once laid aside her plain attire and decked herself
in jewelry and gay clothing and began attending worldly places of
amusement. She seemed to think that when she no longer claimed to be saved
she could cast off all restraint and ignore God’s claims upon her
entirely, and that it did not matter what she did now. Her excuse was,
“Oh, I am not saved now.” Just as though that changed in any degree her
solemn responsibility to obey God!

I was talking with a man who had been a preacher. I spoke to him about
something that had happened in his life on a certain occasion. He had been
guilty of immoral conduct. He acknowledged it with apparently no sense of
shame, saying, “Oh, I was not professing then.” He acted as though he
thought his past conduct made no difference in respect to his present
standing or influence. Some people seem to think that backsliding gives
them some sort of indulgence or license to act as they please. Such a view
is equally dishonoring to God and to themselves. Sin makes a stain that
never can be eradicated. Do not forget this. I make the statement
advisedly. I am aware that many persons do not view it thus, but it is
only because they do not consider the question as it should be considered.
Even the blood of Christ, all-powerful as it is, is not sufficient. This
is not heresy; it is solemn truth, and, reader, the sooner you find it out
the better. It may make the matter of sin appear more serious to you. The
blood of Christ will wash away the guilt of our sins, if we truly repent
and believe, and our hearts may be made as pure as though we had never
sinned; but the stain of it lies ever upon our memory, and its somber
shadow lies upon our life whenever memory calls it to view. No doubt that
shadow will be as eternal as our souls.

Its stain also lies upon our reputation. Men do not forget such things. If
you backslide and go into sin, you may obtain salvation again through the
forbearance of God, but you can not get away from the stigma of your
backsliding. The sins you committed may be forgiven by the saints, for
“charity shall cover a multitude of sins,” but the world neither forgets
nor forgives. The preacher who, after he has preached to others to live
right, goes into sin, can not expect repentance to put him back where he
was before, except in the mercy of God. He will have his sin to live down.
His words will have lost their power. His influence will have greatly
suffered.

This is true of others as well as of preachers. David was a man of God; he
sinned, and to this day men despise him for it. The skeptic and the
infidel cease not to point to the sad spectacle. The one sin of Peter in
denying his Lord stands out today as a dark stain upon his life. O my
friend, if you have been defeated in your Christian life, if you have lost
the sacred treasure of salvation from your heart, I adjure you today that
you do not throw away everything, but value at their true worth the things
that remain to you, and hold them fast. In your righteous life you formed
many good habits; do not turn away from them, hold fast to them. You had a
thankful and appreciative heart toward God; do not become hard and
thankless. You had a reverence for holy things; do not let it go. You had
a desire to please God; keep that desire still warm in your bosom. Keep
your face turned Godward, not worldward, and make your way back to him at
once.

Sometimes people sin against God, then immediately cease their profession
and just drift along day after day, making no effort to obtain
forgiveness. They think they will “get saved again” when some evangelist
comes to hold a revival. We often see reports of meetings saying that so
many “backsliders were reclaimed.” This expression tells a sad story of
such careless living before God that it makes one’s heart sad to
contemplate it. If Satan gets advantage of you, or your foot slips in your
upward climb, do not let go all holds and go clear to the bottom into the
pit of sin, there to lie carelessly; do not lose an inch more than you can
help losing. If you have sinned, resolutely determine that you will not
add to it another sin. Repent of the one committed and press your way
right back to God; do not wait for some preacher; do not wait for
anything; return to God. To drift along and wait is folly. It is giving
Satan all the chance he needs.

One of the most hurtful ideas existing among us today is, that one sin
puts a man back in the same place where he was before he was saved.
Nothing could be more false; nothing could more obscure what salvation has
done for him. Nothing could tend more to make him indifferent and
careless. I want to oppose that idea with all my strength, for it is
Satan’s lie. When a man sins he becomes guilty, but the good character
that has been built up, the pure feelings and desires, the right habits of
thought and action, the Christian point of view to which he has
attained—these are all a wealth that he still possesses. They are
something of exceeding value, which in a large measure still remain in his
possession. They are, however, in serious danger. If he persists in sin,
he will lose them all; but if he recovers himself in time, he will save
them.

I offer no excuse for sin; it is terrible, and how quickly its deadly
infection spreads through all the being! Fear it as you would fear a
plague. If you have sinned, make your way back to God at once before that
sin shall “increase to more ungodliness.” If you are a backslider, do not
think that it does not matter what you do; for it does matter greatly. Do
not add sin to sin, increasing your guilt; but let the fear of God be upon
your heart. If you are overcome, do not let yourself be routed. Do not
throw away your weapons in a panic, but turn again and face the foe and
fight him until the victory comes, until you regain what you have lost,
until you stand “more than conqueror through him that loved us.”





TALK TWENTY-FIVE. MY DREAM MESSAGE


Solomon says that dreams come “through the multitude of business.” Our
night thoughts are like our day thoughts, except that our faculties being
partly asleep, our dreams usually lack the coherence and the
reasonableness of our waking thoughts. God does occasionally, at rare
intervals, operate upon men’s minds to cause them to dream something; but
even the prophets with whom he thus communicated more than with ordinary
men received such messages only now and then, and their other dreams had
no significance.

Many people are always trying to find some hidden meaning in their dreams.
If they have some peculiar dream, they try to interpret it or to get
somebody else to do so. Now, God is reasonable. He knows that we can
better comprehend when we are awake than when we are asleep; so he usually
communicates with us during our waking hours. We sometimes have very
striking dreams, but this does not signify that the Lord originated them.
I have known people to act very unwisely as the result of following
dreams. One night a preacher, who was holding a series of meetings,
dreamed of having a terrible fight with a great snake. When he awoke, he
felt that surely the Lord was trying to show him something. He interpreted
the dream to mean that somebody in the congregation was represented by
that snake. The next day he told his dream in the meeting and said that he
thought he knew who the snake was. He began acting upon his supposition.
The result was that at least two of the congregation backslid over it, and
the whole church was thrown into confusion.

A dream is a dream, and possibly not more than one in ten thousand come
from God. There are times, however, when we may learn good lessons from
our dream thoughts as well as from our waking thoughts. One such dream I
once had, and the lesson I derived from it has been good for my soul. I
dreamed that I stood beside a gigantic wild rosebush. In my hand I held
one of the beautiful fragrant flowers. I looked at it and drank in its
rich perfume, but I saw a great number of flowers, and I desired more than
the one, so I held it in my left hand and began to reach up for others.
They were very high, so I pressed against the outer limbs and stretched to
my utmost, but they were too high; I could not get them. I stepped back
from the bush. As I did so, my gaze fell upon the rose in my hand just in
time to see its petals fall to the ground. In stretching for those beyond
my reach, I had ruined the one that was already mine. I gazed upon the
empty stem in my hand and at the bruised petals upon the ground with a
feeling of regret.

The scene changed. I sat at a desk with pencil and paper, and in my dream
wrote these words: “If you have but one rose, enjoy it to the full. Do not
let its perfume be wasted upon the empty air, and its beauty go unnoticed,
while you spend your time in vain longing for the unattainable.” When I
awoke I wrote down the words that I had written in my dream, and through
the years they have preached to me many a sermon.

How natural it is for us to forget what we have while we look at others
whom we think to be more fortunate! We look at the blessings that others
enjoy and forget to be thankful for our own. We look at others’
possessions, and because they are greater than ours, we fail to appreciate
what we have. Our position in life may be very humble, but however humble,
our life is full of blessings if we but have eyes to see them.

When I had this dream, my health was gone, and I lay alone in my bed
throughout the long hours of the day while my wife was away working for
our support. My eyes were so I could read but a very little. We had two
rooms in a house with another family. All around us were people with
health and plenty. I could easily realize the difference between my
situation and theirs. Sometimes I would look out of the window and see
people passing, strong and vigorous and care-free. I would hear the gay
laughter and the sound of happy voices, while I—there I lay suffering and
alone. How easy it was to see their blessings! and in seeing theirs, how
easy it was to forget my own!

But this dream came upon the morning of my birthday; and as I lay there
thinking it over, I determined that in the coming year I would not let my
one rose be spoiled because I was reaching for that which was beyond my
reach. I decided to enjoy my own blessings. If others were more blessed
than I, should I not rejoice in the fact? Longing to be like them would
not make me so. If I had but little to enjoy, I would enjoy that little.
So I began to look at my blessings, and as I looked them over I found them
greater than I had supposed. I had many things to give me comfort. I had
food to satisfy my hunger. I had a home and clothing. I had the loving
care of a faithful wife. I had kind friends who gave to me freely of their
sympathy and who were ready to grant my every wish so far as it lay in
their power. Better than all else, I had the peace of God in my heart. I
began to realize that my state might be far worse.

The more I thought, the more I saw for which to be thankful. The more I
considered my blessings, the more I appreciated them. And many a time
since have I looked out upon the passers-by or listened to their
merriment, and have said to myself, “I would not exchange places with you;
for I am saved; I have the treasure of God’s love; I have the presence of
the Holy Spirit; I have the joys of salvation; I have a mansion in
heaven.” I knew that most of the passers-by did not have these things, and
so I was blessed more than they. What were health and strength when put to
a wrong use? What were temporal blessings that ministered only to
selfishness? What were the joy and gaiety that ignored God? What were the
pleasures of sin, when they only laid up a harvest of sorrow? Ah no, I had
no reason to envy them, for my blessings were greater and would not fade
away like mist before the sun.

My brother, my sister, you may be happy in your own little corner if you
will learn the lesson of enjoying what you have. Learn to be content with
common things. Learn that the truest joy does not come from external
things. It springs spontaneously from a contented heart. If God wills that
you be situated as you are, will he not make you happy where you are? The
Bible says, “Godliness with contentment is great gain ... Having food and
raiment let us be therewith content” (1 Tim. 6: 6-8). You may not have
much of this world’s goods; you may not have many talents; your blessings
may seem few; but remember my dream message—“If you have but one rose,
enjoy it to the full.” If another has both hands filled, he may enjoy them
less than you enjoy your one, unless you look with envious eyes. Sometimes
a little perfume is sweeter than an abundance. Do not spend your days in
vain longing. Do not despise what you have because it is not greater.
Cultivate the habit of thankfulness and appreciation. Be glad for what you
have. Be contented. Better your condition if you can, but do not spoil
what you have in reaching for more. If you have but one talent, use it for
the Lord and be thankful for it. Do not depreciate it because others have
several talents. Use it and be content. Happiness consists not in the
things we have, but in our appreciation and use of them. So enjoy your one
rose. Drink in its sweet perfume; gaze upon its beauteous colors. Enjoy it
to the full.





TALK TWENTY-SIX. WHEN GOD WITHDRAWS HIMSELF


A mother sat quietly in her easy chair. Upon the floor near her was her
little one playing—piling his blocks one upon another, then throwing them
down and laughing in childish glee. He was all absorbed in his play. The
mother gazed upon him with her eyes beaming. Presently she began to call
him, “Baby, come to Mama! Baby, Baby, come to Mama!” but he played on
unheeding. Again she called, but he paid no attention; his mind was
occupied with his own affairs.

Presently the mother quietly slipped from her chair and went into an
adjoining room, out of the baby’s sight. He did not notice her go. He
supposed that she was right there and that he could go to her at any time;
but happening to glance up from his play, he saw that the chair was empty.
The laughter ceased at once, and a cloud came over his features; he turned
and looked all around the room, but his mama was not in sight. He saw only
a stranger sitting in an easy chair. A pang of startled fear passed
through him, and he began to cry and call very earnestly, in his baby way,
for his mama.

It brought a quick response. The mother, leaving her concealment, rushed
to him quickly, picked him up, and hugged him tightly to her bosom. His
chubby baby arms were clasped about her neck as though he would never let
her go. Soon the tears were gone and the baby’s face lay against that of
the mother, while the joy of the mother-heart caused the eyes to shine
like stars.

Now, the mother did not go away from the child because she did not love
it, or because she thought that it did not love her; but she wanted to
draw its attention away from its little concerns to herself. She wanted to
show her affection for it and to receive its baby caresses in return.

Like that little one, we sometimes become so absorbed in our own
pleasures, our work, or some little personal interest, that God can not
attract our attention. His father-heart yearns for a season of communion
with us. He wants to show his love to us and receive, in turn, our love
and communion. But we do not heed him; we are too busy with other things;
and so he quietly withdraws himself, and we become aware that we are
alone. With that presence gone, how lonely we feel! How dark the world
suddenly grows! How quickly we lose interest in the things that held our
attention before! How we yearn for his presence again! how our hearts
reach out for him! how our tears start! We think, “What have we done that
caused him to leave us? have we grieved away his Spirit? have we sinned
against him?” But ah! he is not gone far; he is just beyond our vision. He
is watching; he is waiting for our hearts to be drawn back to himself.

The mother would not have left her child if by leaving she would have
placed him in danger. She did not mean to stay away. So God knows that to
leave us thus is not to expose us to danger. He is watching, waiting
anxiously the moment when he may return; and ah! when he does return and
takes us in his bosom, what words of comfort he speaks! what tender
affection he shows! and how our hearts are melted and poured out in
thanksgiving and adoration before him! If God apparently withdraws from
us, it is only because he sees that we need to be left alone for a season.
He sees that the heart must be drawn away from selfish interest; and when
this is accomplished, he comes back and reveals to us anew the fulness and
richness of his love.





TALK TWENTY-SEVEN. WHAT HAPPENED TO SOLOMON


In his early manhood Solomon was noted for his deep piety and his fervent
love of righteousness. When he became king, he found a great work ready
for his hand, and he set about the task with a glad heart. To build a
temple to Jehovah was his delight, and he threw into it his whole
strength. His prayer at the dedication of the temple shows a deeply
reverent and submissive spirit.

As the years went by he increased in riches and honor. His name became a
synonym for wisdom. Many nations paid him tribute. But notwithstanding all
these things, his heart held true to God. During these years he had, I
suppose, no thought but that he should continue thus until the end, that
he should live his life out as a true servant of Jehovah, and that his
life’s sun would go down in a blaze of glory. But alas! it was not so to
be. We who know his history know the dark shadow that came over his life.
We know how its radiance faded away into the night. We shall do well to
analyze the things that led to his downfall.

There was no change in Jehovah. There was no change in Solomon’s duty
toward him. The change that led to the disaster was in Solomon himself.
For political reasons Solomon married princesses of the royal houses round
about him. These women were idolaters. Jehovah they regarded as only the
national God of the Hebrews. They still clung to their old religions, and
worshiped the gods of their nations. Their feelings and sentiments were
all in favor of idolatrous worship. These influences Solomon withstood for
a long time. His heart held true to God; but these influences kept on
working. He was in daily contact with them, and little by little they
gained a hold upon him; consequently we read, “It came to pass, when
Solomon was old, that his wives turned away his heart after other gods:
and his heart was not perfect with the Lord his God, as was the heart of
David his father” (1 Kings 11: 4). As a result, the man who had been so
honored by God and who had so honored God became an idolater and put his
Lord to an open shame and drew away into the same net of idolatry many of
his people.

What a lesson there is in this for us! What a warning is there in his
example! When young Christians marry sinners in these days, the final
result is generally pretty much the same as it was with Solomon. But it is
not only through such marriages that hearts are turned away from the Lord:
there are many other things that will influence us likewise if we are not
careful. We are strongly influenced by the actions of others. That
influence is constantly working, whether we are conscious of it or not. In
the life of Joash we see an example of the power of influence. He was
brought up by Jehoiada, the high priest, who was a man that feared God;
and as a result of the influence brought to bear upon the young king, he
grew up to be a man who feared God, and who, during the lifetime of
Jehoiada, did that which was right and good in the sight of the Lord. He
was a good king as long as he had a good teacher and was under proper
influence; but at last Jehoiada died, and other influences were brought to
bear upon the king. He yielded to them; and instead of continuing to be a
godly king, he became a wicked one. Thus, his life e

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