A Man Reaps More Than He Sows.
If I sow a bushel, I expect to reap ten or twenty bushels. I can sow
in one day what will take ten men to reap. The Spaniards have this
proverb: "Sow a thought and reap an act. Sow an act, and reap a
habit. Sow a habit, and reap a character. Sow a character and reap a
destiny." _And it takes a longer time to reap than to sow_. I have
heard of a certain kind of bean that reproduces itself a thousand
fold. One thistle-down which blew from the deck of a vessel is said
to have covered with thistles the entire surface of a South Sea
island. The oak springs from an acorn, the mighty Mississippi from a
little spring.
One glass of whisky may lead to a drunkard's death. One lie may ruin
a man's career. One error in youth may follow a man all through
life. Some one has said that many a Christian spends half his time
trying to keep down the sprouts of seed sown in his young days.
Unless it is held in check, the desire to "have a drink" will become
a consuming thirst; the desire to "play a game of cards" an
irresistible gambler's passion.
Abraham gave up his only son at God's bidding, and as the fruit of
that act of obedience God gave him seed as numerous as the stars of
the heaven and as the sands upon the seashore.
Jacob told one lie, and his ten sons came back with his lie
multiplied tenfold. For twenty years Jacob mourned for Joseph,
supposing that he was dead. I have no doubt that night after night
he wept for Joseph, and in his dreams saw the boy torn to pieces,
and heard his cries for help. It took him a long time to reap the
harvest.
Israel murmured against God because of the report of the land of
Canaan brought back by the spies. Had they not to reap a multiplied
harvest? Listen: "After the number of the days in which ye searched
the land, even forty days, each day for a year, shall ye bear your
iniquities, even forty years, and ye shall know my breach of
promise."
When I made the remark in a meeting once that a man had to reap more
than he sowed, a man in front of me dropped his head and sobbed
aloud. After the meeting, a friend stepped up to him and said:
"What is your trouble?"
Pointing to me he said, "Every word that man has been saying is
true. Four years ago I was the confidential clerk of a firm in this
city. I have reason to believe that if I had continued as I began, I
should have been in the firm now. But one night in a saloon under
the influence of drink I committed a crime, and I was sent to the
penitentiary, where I repented in sackcloth and ashes. To-day I came
back for the first time, and went to the old house, and they ordered
me out. I went to other business-houses I was acquainted with, and
received the same treatment. I met men on the street whom I once
knew, who had held inferior places to me, and I lifted my hat, but
no one returned the bow."
The man wrung his hands in agony and said, "It is all true, it takes
a longer time to reap than to sow."
Do you not believe it? Ask your neighbor who has drank up his
character and reputation and home, and has brought a blight on his
family. It takes a long time to build up a character, but you can
blast it in a single hour.
A man died in the Columbus penitentiary some years ago who had spent
over thirty years in his cell. He was one of the millionaires of
Ohio. Fifty years ago when they were trying to get a trunk road from
Chicago to New York, they wanted to lay the line through his farm
near Cleveland. He did not want his farm divided by the railroad, so
the case went into court, where commissioners were appointed to pay
the damages and to allow the road to be built. One dark night after
the tracks were laid, a train was thrown off the track, and several
were killed. This man was suspected, was tried and found guilty, and
was sent to the penitentiary for life. The farm was soon cut up into
city lots, and the man became a millionaire, but he got no benefit
from it. Before he died, the chaplain told me that he became a child
of God. It may not have taken him more than an hour to lay the
obstruction on the railroad, but he was over thirty years reaping
the result of that one act!
In the history of France we read that a certain king wanted some new
instrument to torture his prisoners with. One of his favorites
suggested that he should build a cage, not long enough to lie down
in, and not high enough to stand up in. The king accepted the
suggestion; but the first one put into the cage was the very man who
suggested it, and he was kept in it for fourteen years. It did not
take him more than a few minutes, perhaps, to suggest that cruel
device; but he was fourteen long years reaping the fruit of what he
had sown.
If a man could do his reaping alone, it would not be so hard; but it
is terrible when he has to make that godly father, and that mother
who loves him, or that wife and family, reap along with him. Does
not the drunkard make his wife and children reap a bitter harvest?
Does not the gambler make his relatives reap? Does not the harlot
make her parents reap agony and shame? What a bitter enemy is sin!
May God help each one of us to turn from it at once!
Whenever I hear a young man talking in a flippant way about sowing
his wild oats, I don't laugh. I feel more like crying, because I
know he is going to make his gray-haired mother reap in tears; he is
going to make his wife reap in shame; he is going to make his old
father and his innocent children reap with him. Only ten or fifteen
or twenty years will pass before he will have to reap his wild oats;
no man has ever sowed them without having to reap them. Sow the wind
and you reap the whirlwind.
We cannot control our influence. If I plant thistles in my field,
the wind will take the thistle-down when it is ready, and blow it
away beyond the fence; and my neighbors will have to reap with me.
So my example may be copied by my children or my neighbors, and my
actions reproduced indefinitely through them, whether for good or
evil. How many have gone to ruin because of the sins of such men as
Jacob and David and Lot!
Nothing But Leaves.
Nothing but leaves! The Spirit grieves
O'er years of wasted life!
O'er sins indulged while conscience slept,
O'er vows and promises unkept,
And reap from years of strife--
Nothing but leaves! Nothing but leaves!
Nothing but leaves! No gathered sheaves
Of life's fair ripening grain;
We sow our seeds; lo! tares and weeds--
Words, _idle_ words, for earnest deeds--
Then reap, with toil and pain,
Nothing but leaves! Nothing but leaves!
Nothing but leaves! Sad memory weaves
No veil to hide the past;
And as we trace our weary way,
And count each lost and misspent day,
We sadly find at last--
Nothing but leaves! Nothing but leaves!
Ah, who shall thus the Master meet,
And bring but withered leaves?
Ah, who shall, at the Saviour's feet,
Before the awful judgment-seat,
Lay down, for golden sheaves,
Nothing but leaves! Nothing but leaves?
--L. E. Ackerman.
IGNORANCE OF THE SEED MAKES NO DIFFERENCE.
"_Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, in the which all that
are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth, they
that have done good; unto the resurrection of life; and they that
have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation_."--John v: 28,
29.