R.G.D.

HINTON HOUSE,

1880.

*CONTENTS.*

Life

My Birthday

Temptation

Drink

Idle Words

Excuses

Poverty

Out of Work

Discontent

"I want to better myself"

Masters and Men

Forgiveness of Others

Hard Work

Courtship

Marriage

Kindness

Our Parents

Our Children

Home

Heaven our Home. (Part I.)

Heaven our Home. (Part II.)

Sunday

Church

Holy Communion. (Part I.)

Holy Communion. (Part II.)

The Bible

The Holy Spirit

God's Ministers

Prayer

On being alone

On Setting a Good Example

Helping Others

Our Companions

The Books we Read

True Manliness

Honesty

Bearing the Cross

Humility

Martyrdom

Repentance

Faith

The Shortness of Life

The Death of Friends

The Fear of Death

Sorrow and Suffering

Death

Last Words

*LIFE.*

"He liveth long who liveth well!

All other life is short and vain;

He liveth longest who can tell

Of living most for heavenly gain."

_Bonar._

There are two distinct classes of people who enjoy God's gift of life,

and who look upon that gift from two utterly different points of view.

The worldly man looks upon life as a time in which to gratify his desire

for pleasure, or in which to pursue his business schemes. The Christian

looks upon life as a preparation for death, which shall lead him, as it

were, through a gateway to the life to come. Nay, more than this, so

nearly are these two connected, life and death, that the way in which

men spend the former, mainly depends on the view they take of the

latter. To the man who believes only in the things of time and sense,

there practically appears no life to come. Death is the end of all

things; he neither sees, nor cares to see anything beyond it. But how

different is it with the Christian man! To him life is a

growing-time--a time for growing in grace. What the spring-time and

early days of summer are to the corn, what the April showers are to the

tender shoots, so is life to him! He lives with a consciousness that

death is hovering near, and often nearer perhaps than even he may think;

but so far from making him wretched, or discontented, the thought of his

departure rather causes him joy. To him life is but a shadow, a vapour,

a short, passing, wintry day; death is but the dark valley--necessarily

dark, for he too is but mortal--but beyond this darkness there is light,

light unearthly, light glorious, which will lighten his eyes in death.

Life has often been compared to a ship, sailing over stormy seas, but

always pointed towards the haven of rest, which is on the heavenly

shore; meeting with many disasters, suffering many losses, till at

length, "with rent cordage and shattered deck," she reaches the port of

Heaven.

There is a story told of an ancient Greek teacher, who was asked what

kind of ship he considered the safest to weather a storm--if he thought

one with a pointed keel, or a flat-bottomed boat the best for resisting

the violence of the waves? The old man answered, "The only really

_safe_ ship I know of is the one which is drawn up upon the shore." And

oh! reader, is not this true of life? Have you never felt as you sailed

across life's troubled sea, and met with ships of all kinds crossing

towards the same harbour, have you never felt that none could really be

called _safe_--safe amid the changes and chances of life--none safe

until they were drawn up high and dry upon the heavenly shore? The best

ship ever built may be wrecked in a storm, the most experienced pilot

ever known may miss his way in a fog; and the most God-fearing, upright,

honest Christian may be, nay certainly is, liable to faults, mistakes,

and failings. "The only safe ship I know of is the one which is drawn up

upon the shore!" There, out of reach of the violence of the waves, far

from their stormy tides, the ship rests safely. It makes but little

difference whether the ship be flat-bottomed or pointed as to its keel;

it makes no difference at all whether the man be rich or poor, whether

he be bond or free. It is to the same harbour both are bound, it is to

the same Master each will be accountable for deeds done in the body.

Only be sure that you are living now the life that Christ would have you

live, and that you can say with S. Paul, "the life that I now live in

the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, Who loved me, and gave

Himself for me.[#]"

[#] Gal. ii. 20.

*MY BIRTHDAY.*

"My birthday! ev'ry minute tells

Me time is passing by,

And bids me look to One Who dwells

Beyond the starry sky;

A frowning past would seem to say:

'What moments have been thrown away.'

Great God! as birthdays come and go,

And mark each fleeting stage below,

Be Thou my hope, be Thou my aid--

The only strength which cannot fade--

And when the throbs of life have passed,

O take me to Thyself at last."

_John Burbidge._

Reader, just think what a birthday is. Your birthday is the day on

which you were born. The day on which God sent you into this world,

giving you a free will to fight for Him or against Him. And every year

regularly since that day you have had a birthday. You have been getting

every year nearer and nearer to the grave, nearer and nearer home. And

what is the home to which you have been drawing nearer, God's or

Satan's? Has every fresh birthday found you growing in grace as well as

in age? Can it be said of you, as it was of our blessed Lord, He

"increased in _wisdom_ and stature, and in favour with God and man?"

Remember that such wisdom as that mentioned there is not to be got out

of learned books. It is the same kind of wisdom that Solomon had, the

gift of Almighty God. Learned men write learned books, and we read

their writings with delight. But a queen even took a long, a toilsome

journey in person to hear the wisdom of Solomon, for he was the wisest

man on earth.

Just think for a moment how old you were last birthday. How many of

those years can you truthfully say have been spent in the service of

Christ? Jesus Christ passed thirty years here on our earth, thirty

weary, sorrowful years, and He can truthfully say that every day of

those thirty years was passed for you and for me! Yes, reader, every day

and every hour! He bore the mocking laughter of the Jew, and the idle

scoffing of the Gentile, that He might know what ridicule meant, and

might help you to bear it too. He worked in the carpenter's shop that

He might know what labour was, and understand what weariness means. He

saw that foxes had holes, and the birds had their nests, while He had no

place in which to lay His head; and all this He suffered, that He might

know the full bitterness of the cup of misery drunk by the houseless,

homeless poor. And He knew too that each year, each birthday, brought

Him nearer to death, and what a death it was! Oh! have you ever thought

of the pain of knowing all this beforehand? Perhaps now and then, (but

very rarely,) you sit down on your birthday to think of your death-day.

But God has mercifully hidden from your eyes the manner and

circumstances of your death. It wasn't so with Christ. Whenever the

thought of death came into His mind, there would rise up before Him a

vision of three crosses of wood on a hill outside a city. Crowds of

people would be standing round, and Roman soldiers keeping guard. On

two of the crosses would be nailed thieves; on the centre one Himself,

the Lord of life and glory. I remember seeing a picture a few years ago

in London by a well-known artist. He had painted a boy standing near a

carpenter's bench in a village workshop. He had been working hard, and

was now resting, and in the act of stretching Himself. Both arms were

extended at full length, and the head leant slightly on one side. A

woman, kneeling on the floor behind Him, was looking at some treasures

in a large chest. The sun falling upon the figure of the boy, cast a

shadow upon the floor, a shadow of a figure stretched as if it were

ready for crucifixion, and the artist had well named his picture "The

Shadow of Death." Reader, you may be young, as young as that boy in the

picture; but near you too may be standing the shadow of death. The boy

Jesus, in stretching His weary limbs, strangely cast a shadow on the

ground of the death of the man Christ. And though you know it not,

death may be standing quite as near to you as it was to Him--or nearer.

Oh then be up and doing, working for the Master Christ, ere the night

cometh. Rather let each birthday as it comes find you nearer to your

Father in heaven, and more prepared to meet Him. And then those

beautiful lines shall be true of you, and of your life:--

"To Thy saints, while here below,

With new years new mercies come;

But the happiest year they know,

Is their last which leads them Home."

*TEMPTATION.*

"When wounded sore the stricken heart

Lies bleeding and unbound,

One only Hand, a pierced Hand,

Can salve the sinner's wound."

_Mrs. Alexander._

What is temptation? A good man was once asked that question, and he

said--"The border-line between sin and holiness. Not sin itself, but

the surroundings, the outer crust, as it were, of sin." And that is the

best answer I can give you.

Well did the Master know what temptation was; and in His godly wisdom He

has given us a special petition in His own Prayer against it. "Lead us

not into temptation," we continually pray, and we often say those words

thoughtlessly and carelessly enough, but none of us ever know how many

temptations these words keep us from. God gives us trials, and they are

good for our faith; but it has been well said, that what is a trial in

the hand of God becomes a temptation in the hand of Satan.

You should always try and remember, when tempted, that Jesus is near you

and looking on--that no temptation can befall you, save what He allows.

If you call to Him for help, He will hear you, and answer: not always to

remove the temptation, but to give you His grace and strength to

withstand it.

There is a story told of a young workman in the Black Country, who was

converted to God, and was in consequence subjected to great persecution

from those who were employed with him in the forge. One day they

stripped him naked, and placed him in front of the furnace fire, while a

number of men and lads stood by using filthy language. They threatened

to keep him there until he swore, but he remained silent; till at length

one, in whom there was more humanity than the rest, freed him from his

tormentors. The clergyman happened to hear of it, and sent for him, and

asked how he felt when in that fearful case. "Sir," was his simple

answer, "I never felt before that Jesus was so near me as then." Don't

you think that Christ had given that young man a large portion of His

Spirit? Don't you think that he was a martyr--a witness for Christ? It

was the same, you know, with those three children thousands of years ago

at Babylon. The great King of Babylon had taken them captive; and he

commanded them to fall down and worship a golden image which he had set

up. There they were in Babylon--far from the temple, where they used to

worship God, far from their friends and relatives. They were only three

young men among thousands of strangers. And after all, would it have

been so very wrong, just for once, to fall down and worship, as the king

commanded? Yes, it would have been wrong, very wrong; and Shadrach,

Meshach, and Abed-nego knew it would have been wrong; and so they

refused. And what was the consequence? Why, the names of those three

heroes, for heroes they certainly were, have been recorded in the Bible,

and translated into every language under heaven, and to this day we hold

them up as examples for our sons to follow.

Reader, if you and I resist the devil, and overcome temptation, there is

no likelihood of our names being written in the Bible. No children yet

unborn will read the records of our history; no scholar will translate

the story into other tongues. But our names, and the account of the

temptation, and how we resisted it, will all be written down in the

Lamb's great Book of Life. And is it not worth striving against any

temptation in order to obtain such honour? Is it not worth while

bearing witness for Jesus, if in return we wear the martyr's crown? But

I would have you look higher than this. Jesus Christ died to save us;

and should we not be grateful to Him for that? It is very little we can

do for Him Who has done all for us. But we can do this. The weakest,

and the poorest, and the most sinful among us can, when the temptation

comes, put up a prayer to Jesus to ask His gracious help. And I know of

none shorter, and certainly of none better, than the words He Himself

has taught us--"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Amen[#]."

[#] S. Matt. vi. 13.

*DRINK.*

"When you see a drunken sot

From out the tavern reel,

Be thankful for a better lot,

And turn not on your heel.

Go warn him of the dreadful glass,

And save him, if you can;

But never scorn him as you pass--

Remember he's a man."

_John Burbidge._

Drink! Why is it that when we speak that word we instinctively tremble?

Is it not because we feel that it is the great enemy of our country and

our race? Is it not because we call to mind strong men and women

reeling under its influences? Neglected homes, ragged children, and

general wants rise up before our eyes at the first mention of that word,

Drink! Have you ever been in any of our large towns late on a Saturday

night, and watched a woman waiting patiently outside a public house for

the drunken husband, who is spending his time and his wages within?

Perhaps there is a babe at her breast, and a ragged child crying at her

side. Crying! yes, crying, because it knows that this means no supper,

no comfort, no peace. It is an awful sight. I don't know any sight

more sad; no not even a weeping mother mourning her only son.

Look into the newspapers again, week after week filled with cases of

drunkenness. A horrible murder is committed; and if it should be

peculiarly brutal in its details, we are almost certain to find that the

murderer was drunk. Yes, it is drink that fills our prisons to

overflowing; it is drink that fills the mad-houses of the country; and

it is drink which indirectly taxes every single member of the society in

which we live. Then, again, drunkenness leads to the commission of

countless other sins. Apart from sins committed under the influence of

drink, there are many sins to which drink leads. I have known a case in

which a woman, who began life with high motives and honest intentions,

being afflicted with a great and deep sorrow, was advised by her friends

to seek consolation in drink. The glass which she then took led to

another, and that one to another, and so on, until to-day that woman is

pronounced by those very friends to be a hopeless and confirmed

drunkard. As I said, before she took to drink her character was good;

now it is far otherwise. And I am told that so great are her thefts,

that everything in that house has to be kept under lock and key.

Oh, don't you think that is a terrible picture of the influence of

drink? Don't you think that at the Day of Judgment God will blame the

friends, however kindly they may have meant it, who first advised her to

drown her grief in drink? Reader, that is a true story. It is no

made-up tale. That poor woman is well known to me; and so far as I can

see, the few years more she may have to live, and they cannot be many,

must be passed in sorrow, in suffering, and in pain. And, unhappily,

this curse of our nation does not end in our own land. Wherever the

English tongue is spoken, wherever the English foot treads, there the

curse follows. From the swarthy African, who knows the white man's

"fire-water," which maddens his brain and dulls his senses, to the red

Indian warrior who changes the skins of wild beasts for English gold and

English spirits on the shores of Lake Ontario, all men know of the

Englishman's curse: and knowing, learn to dread it.

It is drink which destroys our navy and our army alike. It is

drunkenness which saps the strength of many of our greatest minds before

they have left the university. And what can I say of our country

villages,--of our young men, who year by year are growing up and

beginning for themselves the labour of life; of the boys who, almost as

soon as they leave school, learn, in many cases, to follow the example

of their elders, and find the public house a convenient meeting-place?

It is for the young men of England to redeem their country's honour. It

is for every individual soul to do battle with this mighty foe. Let the

work be begun in our villages, in our homes, in ourselves. Let us be

moderate in our living, in eating and in drinking; and then, by example

rather than by precept, by deed rather than by word, we shall have done

what we could; and when we lie down in death, it will be our comfort to

reflect that little as it was we did, and poor and weak as were the

efforts of our heart, we did it to the Lord and not unto men.

*IDLE WORDS.*

"O, never say a careless word

Hath not the power to pain,

The shaft may ope some hidden wound

That closes not again.

Weigh well those light-winged messengers;

God marked thy needless word,

And with it, too, the falling tear,

The heart-pang that it stirred."

_Anna Shipton._

Our Lord, in S. Matthew's Gospel, tells us "that every idle word that

men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of

judgment[#]." Now there are so many forms of speech which may be called

"idle words," that I think it would be best to consider each separately.

And so we will divide them under three heads. 1. Needless words. 2.

Impure words. 3. Careless words.

[#] S. Matt. xii. 36.

1. Now all "idle words" are needless. You may be sure of this, that if

God had made, as He has made, many expressions necessary to our ordinary

conversation or adapted to our daily wants, such could never be "idle

words." I do not mean to say, nor would I have you think by this, that

any expressions of joy or merriment, that any of the amusing stories we

hear, or any of the ordinary conversation of life, comes under the head

of "idle words." But what I do mean by "idle words" and needless words

is all that we commonly call gossip. Now gossip is quite needless. It

is generally taken up with talk about our neighbours; rarely, very

rarely, is any thing said in their favour--most often are their

characters blackened. Now you know it is so easy often to say an unkind

thing of a person, and so hard to say a kind one, that men prefer the

easier method, and the character suffers thereby. But would this be so,

think you, if we always remembered that for these and such like "idle

words" God would bring us into judgment?

2. Then again there are _impure words_ and swearing. Now I daresay when

you swear you don't think of what it means. When you turn round upon a

fellow man and curse him, it does not occur to you that you have

solemnly called upon God to give his soul over to everlasting damnation.

God Almighty alone can tell what effect that curse, so carelessly

spoken, may have. I cannot and do not believe that it will affect the

soul of him _against_ whom it is launched. But I do believe, for God has

told us so, that that word, however carelessly and thoughtlessly spoken,

will one day be brought up against the speaker, and for that and any

other "idle words" he may have spoken, he "shall give an account in the

day of judgment."

And the same is true of impure words. They may be said thoughtlessly,

but they may yet for all that do as much harm as if you had thought over

them before speaking. Suppose you throw a stone into a pond, the stone

sinks and you see it no more, and all you can see is a widening circle

spreading ever farther and farther until it ripples at your feet upon

the shore. And this is true of life. You speak an impure word, or you

tell an impure tale to some of your friends, and you go away and forget

it. But the word or the story may have been heard by a little child

perhaps, and that word or story may be the first step on the road to its

ruin. "For every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give an

account in the day of judgment."

3. And what shall I say of careless words, for they are words so often

spoken even by the very best among us? We speak the words, and often we

regret them as soon as spoken. But we are too proud to recall them. It

may be that a word which we have carelessly spoken may be remembered

years after, when we ourselves have passed away. Besides which,

careless words, needless words, and impure words pass upwards before

God, and He hears them and notes them down against that day when men

shall give an account of every idle word.

"By God's eternal dwelling-place,

Those words went floating by,

And still the echo wanders on

Throughout eternity.

And whispering yet within thy heart,

'The still small voice' is heard,

And thou shall cry, 'O God! forgive

My needless bitter word!'"

Yes, reader, God may forgive the words, and will do so, as He has

promised; but, as that verse says, "the echo wanders on throughout

eternity." And the consequences wander on too. And though God may have

forgiven the utterance of the word, yet since it was idly spoken, you

will have to "give an account thereof at the day of judgment."

It has been said, that the words spoken here "wander on" through

eternity, and that we shall one day confront again the words which we

have spoken in the flesh. How careful then ought we to be of every idle

word! How particular that none escape us! For think of the torment it

will be to the purified soul to meet in the everlasting city with the

echoes--even though they be but the last dying echoes--of the idle words

which the lips have spoken on earth.

*EXCUSES.*

"Make not vain excuses;

God gives strength to all,

Sets His guardian angels

Round us, lest we fall.

In the hour of trial

Call upon thy Lord,

Fight thy battle bravely,

Think upon His Word,

'I will never leave thee,

I am ever near,

In My strength go forward,

Cast away all fear.'"

_E.C.O._

How natural it seems to make excuses. If we are found fault with, we

have an excuse ready to our tongue. If we have to confess that we have

been in the wrong, we do so with an excuse. Ever since the day when

Adam and Eve fled from their Maker's Presence in the Garden of Eden,

ever since Adam spoke those first words of excuse, "The woman whom Thou

gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat," ever

since then man has made one excuse after another, until excuses come so

readily that it is difficult to speak without making one. We are all of

us very fond of trying to shift the blame from our own shoulders on to

those of others. If a railway accident takes place, it is most

difficult to find out who is to blame for it. If an army is cut to

pieces in battle, the blame is generally laid upon the dead. But if a

praiseworthy action is done, and men talk about it, and it gets reported

in the newspapers, there are always plenty of people quite ready to come

forward and lay claim to having done the brave deed. And what is true

of our earthly life, the life of the body, is true also of the life of

the soul. When we fall into sin, when we come on our knees to confess

the sin to Almighty God, how very often the confession is spoilt by

excuses. Just as Adam laid the blame on Eve, and Eve in her turn blamed

the Serpent, so we lay the blame on somebody else, and expect God will

accept our excuses.

Now there are so many excuses that the devil teaches men, that it would

be quite impossible for me to deal with nearly all of them; but there

are one or two of the commonest, against which I can put you on your

guard.

One of the excuses most frequently made for not coming to Christ is, "I

am not good enough." Reader, which of us would be good enough for

Christ, if He required us to be perfect? But He wants us to come just

as we are, to come with our sins, and lay them upon Him, Who bore them

long ago "in His own body on the tree."

I have read of an artist who wanted to paint a picture of the Prodigal

Son. He searched through the mad-houses, and work-houses, and prisons,

to find a man wretched enough to represent the Prodigal, but he could

not find one. One day he was walking down the street and he met a

beggar; he thought the man would do, and he told him he would pay him

well, if he would come to his room, and sit for his picture. The day

came, and the man appeared at the artist's door, and reminded him of his

appointment with him. But the artist looked at him and said, "No, I

have never seen you before. I made an appointment with a ragged beggar,

not with you." But the man persisted, and named the place where they

had first met; so the artist asked him what he had been doing. "Well,"

answered the beggar, "I thought I would dress myself up a bit before I

got painted." "Then," said the artist, "I do not want you; I wanted you

_as you were, not as you are now_." And, reader, Christ wants _you as

you are_, when He first meets you. Without excuses, poor, sinful, and

miserable; a broken and a contrite heart He will not despise.

"I came to Jesus as I was,

Weary, and worn, and sad;

I found in Him a resting-place,

And He has made me glad."

Another very common excuse is, "There is no hurry." Men, and especially

young men, think, "Oh! I've got life before me, why shouldn't I amuse

myself a bit now? and then, when I'm old, too old for amusement, I'll

give the days of my life to God." I have heard a story, that on one

occasion Satan gathered his wicked spirits together, and they took

counsel as to how they could best ruin mankind. And some said one thing

and some another. One, for instance, stood up and said, "I'll go and

tell them that there's no God." But Satan said, "No, that won't do;

it's too old a story; it has been tried and failed." And another rose

up and said, "I'll go and persuade them that the Bible is not true."

And Satan replied again, "No, that won't do either; you might persuade a

few, but you would not convince many. But," he added, "I'll tell you

what to do, go and tell them that there's no hurry, they'll all believe

that." And from that day to this Satan has been telling us that there's

no hurry, and we all _do believe that_. Yes, the very best of us and

the very wisest, as well as the worst and most ignorant, still think

that there's no hurry. Morning after morning the sun rises, and every

evening he sinks beyond the distant hills. Year by year, spring follows

winter, and summer follows spring. Every year we gather in a new

harvest, and then the winter evenings are with us once more; and because

these things come so regularly and so naturally, we are apt to think

that there's no hurry.

Reader, if you are still persuading yourself that there's no hurry _for

you_, make the excuse no longer. Jesus invites you, saying, "Come unto

Me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest."

God's ministers invite you, preaching the Gospel of the Blessed God.

The open church and the pealing bells invite you, "the gay green earth"

and the open sky, the birds and beasts, all these invite you to look at

them, in and beyond them, to their Maker's love.

I wish I had time to say more about these excuses. They are as numerous

as the grains of sand on the seashore. But I suppose if I did exhaust

them all, Satan would be quite ready to give you fresh ones.

God "willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should turn

from his wickedness and _live_." Oh! think of that joyful life,

immortal, everlasting, around the throne of Christ. Think of your dear

friends who have gone before; think, it may be, of the pious mother, who

first taught your infant lips to say "Our Father, which art in heaven."

And she, too, is there! And then, reader, think of the punishment of

sin; there's no escape from that! Our Lord Himself has told us what

that will be--"Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness;

there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth[#]."

[#] S. Matt. xxv. 30.

*POVERTY.*

"God sends us poverty or wealth,

Whichever He thinks best;

The best for earthly warfare here--

The best for heavenly rest.

If God has sent you wealth, it is

Not yours, but only lent.

If He has sent you poverty,

Then learn to be content."

_R.D._

One of the questions, which men have wasted many weary hours in trying

to answer, is the question of the uneven division of wealth in the

world. Great men and clever men have tried, and all alike have failed;

nay, some have gone further, and have declared that since an unseen

Being has divided wealth so unevenly, it is for them to redistribute it.

And these, too, have failed. And I suppose as long as the world lasts

we shall never have an answer to the question--How is it that one man in

this world is so rich that he really does not know what to do with his

money: he buys horses and carriages, and stocks his house with lovely

and costly treasures, and with wrought silver and gold? And how is it,

on the other hand, that a man, living perhaps at the rich man's very

gates, a man as religious, as honest, as straightforward as he, how is

it that he must needs rise early and go late to rest to gain his daily

bread? How is it that sometimes even with all his daily toil he feels

an anxiety quite unknown to the other, as to where the next meal is to

come from? Can you answer that question? I think not! And, reader, you

are not alone in your ignorance; for I have never heard of anybody yet

who could give any cause for this uneven division of wealth.

No, of all God's gifts to men, none are so unevenly distributed; and

none cause so much bitterness between men, as His gift of riches. The

great thing then to remember is, first, that both poverty and wealth

come from Almighty God. If we have riches, God has given them, not to

use them selfishly for our own purposes, but in order to benefit other

people. While, if we are poor in this world's goods, we may be rich in

heavenly treasure, and still look upon our poverty as the gift of God.

"But," you may say, "it is all very well for you, with everything you

can want, to talk to us about poverty being a blessed state, and a gift

of God, but you can't know anything of the troubles of poverty." Now,

there may be and there are certain troubles which a poor man necessarily

feels, and which a rich man does not, and these of course I don't

pretend to know. There may be moments in your life, in which you feel

that God has forgotten you, that starvation must be very near! But do

remember that God never _forgets_ His people. He never fails to help

and govern those He has brought up in His steadfast fear and love. The

same kind providence watches the poor man's humble cottage and the royal

throne. The same God will mark what is done amiss in both cases, and

will most surely punish it.

Our Lord and His Apostles were poor working men. He had made all men,

and had only to speak the word, and the kings of the earth would gladly

have flocked in eager to be His disciples; but no, He passes over all

these, and He goes down to the seashore, and He finds some plain

fishermen mending their nets, He bids them follow Him; and, just as if

it was the most natural thing in the world, they get up, and leave

behind them their few earthly possessions (probably little else than

fishing-tackle), and they follow Him without delay. They know well that

they are going after a poor man, but they never think of the poverty.

They know that theirs will be no bed of down, when the toils of day are

over, for He whom they follow has "not where to lay His head[#]." They

know that the man they are following has no earthly home, and that when

they leave their father and the ship, they leave all that they have and

all they will ever have on earth. I wonder, reader, if you have ever

thought of these Apostles of Jesus leaving _all_ to follow Him, and of

their reason for doing so. And what was the reason--was it hope of

worldly honour? I think not; if so they would very soon have been

bitterly deceived. Or was it, think you, to have their names and

history written down in the Bible, that all men might read of their

self-denial? I hardly think that likely, for when they started to

follow Jesus, they knew but little of Him, and nothing at all of a

Bible, in which their names should appear. No, what these Apostles had

is what we want so much, rich and poor alike. God's great gift of

_faith_. Faith to believe God, as Abraham believed Him. Faith to take

Christ at His word, as the Apostles did. Faith here, which shall guide

us through this world of sin, and land us, whether rich or poor, on the

eternal shore beyond it. To us, then, poverty or wealth alike would

come as God's gifts, and we should thankfully accept them as such, and

we should no longer complain of our hard lot and our little grievances,

but should think more of Christ, and less of ourselves--more of His

riches, and less of our poverty.

[#] S. Matt. viii. 20.

*OUT OF WORK.*

"Be it good or ill,

Be it what you will,

It must help me on my road,

My rugged way to Heaven, please God."

_C. Rossetti._

As this book is written specially for working men, it could hardly be

complete without a few words on the above heading.

Now I am not going to enter into the question of why it is that so many

people are constantly out of work. In some cases, it may be the fault

of the master: in some cases, that of the men. There may be, again, hard

times in which it is difficult to get work, and for some perhaps quite

impossible. But what I want to do is to offer a few kindly words of

advice to such as may be out of work. And, first of all, if you have

ever been so, you must have felt, and I hope have felt keenly, the

blessing of practising habits of saving. We all know what is meant by

putting aside something against a rainy day; and those of us to whom the

rainy day of wanting work has come, have probably had cause to regret a

good deal of wasted money, spent in the public house, before that evil

day came. We have felt that if we had kept the money we had wasted in

this way, it would have greatly helped in keeping the wolf away from the

door.

But the great point for Christian men to remember is that whether they

are out of work or not in a worldly sense, they are always, or ought

always to be hard at work in a heavenly sense. If we are out of work, it

may be our master's fault, or it may be our own. But if we are out of

work for Christ it is never His fault, and so it must always be ours.

Our work for Jesus begins as soon as we enter this world, and ceases not

till we leave it. If you were to go to a far-off country, where there

was no other human being near you, you would still have to be working

for Jesus. There is always the battle with self, the daily

self-denials, the oft-repeated doubts to be silenced; and this we shall

find quite enough work for us to do. Each Christian has his own

separate work to do for God; and we may be quite sure of this, that God

will not take us out of this world until that work be done. Some time

ago, in an English dockyard, a great ship was to be launched. An

immense multitude of people came to see it glide down the slides that

were to carry it into the water. The blocks and wedges were knocked

away; but the massive hull did not stir. Just then a little boy ran

forward, and began to push the ship with all his might. The crowd broke

out into a laugh of ridicule; but it so happened that the vessel was

just ready to move; the little push the boy gave it was all that was

needed to start it, and away it went into the water.

Now we have each of us got some work to do for the Master. It may be

great, or it may be small; but if we will but look for it, there it is.

It may be our business to speak a word to a friend who is living in sin,

or it may be we may have to speak to multitudes. It is certain that we

all have to set a good example, and to live a Christian life. Yes, even

when we are out of work, we can show that we are working for the Master.

We can try and be content with our hard lot, and God only knows how very

hard that lot sometimes is. We can refrain from speaking against our

employer, or saying anything unjust or untrue of him. You know it is

always easier to say an unkind word, or to think a hard thought of one

who has done us harm, than to speak or think kindly of him; and because

it is easier we generally do so. You may say this is but natural. So it

is. But there are a great many things which come quite naturally to us,

which are wrong, and forbidden in the Bible; and if we would go to

heaven, nay more, if we would please God, we must deny ourselves in some

of these very things which come so naturally to us. And do remember,

reader, that though masters may be, and certainly often are unkind to

their servants, and unfaithful to their trust, it is not for us to judge

them. God has told us that vengeance is His, and He will repay.

Masters and men alike have hard times: and though the masters may have

more money, they have more calls upon their purse and heavier expenses

than the poor. For failing crops do make hard times for the farmers,

and loss of wealth means hard times for the merchant, just as hard in

its own way as any the poor have to suffer when they are out of work.

*DISCONTENT.*

"Some murmur if their sky is clear

And wholly bright to view,

If one small speck of dark appear

In their bright Heaven of blue;

And some, with deepest love are filled

If but one ray of light,

One star of God's good mercy gild

The blackness of their night."

_Trench._

Discontent in any form, and among any class of people, is indeed a

disagreeable, and a wicked thing. It is disagreeable, because it makes

one's neighbours uncomfortable. It is wicked, because it is a sin

against God. It is bad enough and wrong enough when we find it amongst

the poor. It is worse than wrong when we meet with it among the rich.

"Godliness with contentment is great gain[#];" and so often do these two

go hand in hand, that they have come to be looked upon as almost

inseparable. A discontented man is always an unhappy one, and we may

say, too, generally manages to render those about him unhappy. We have

given us in the Bible, for our warning, an example of discontent in the

person of Jonah. Jonah, as you will remember, was sent to a city called

Nineveh, to warn its sinful inhabitants of the wrath of God. So he went,

and preached throughout her streets that after forty days the city

should be overthrown. But, contrary to the expectation of Jonah, the

King of Nineveh and his people humbled themselves before God, and

repented of their evil ways. And Almighty God, with that forbearing love

which He is wont to show to His repentant children, heard the prayer of

the people of Nineveh, and they and their city were saved. But, strange

as it may seem to us, this forbearance "displeased Jonah exceedingly,

and he was very angry[#]." He was angry because Nineveh was saved, and

because it seemed to him that his was now a false position. And so this

discontented man went out of the city, and there he made himself a

booth, or tent, to keep off the hot rays of the noonday sun, and he

wished that he might die. And then Almighty God taught Jonah a

lesson--such a lesson as it would be well for each one of us to learn.

He caused a gourd to grow, to ward off the heat from Jonah; and when

Jonah began to be glad because of this tree, God sent a worm to its

roots, and one after another the leaves fell off, and the tree died; and

discontent again prevailed in Jonah's heart. Then God called him, and

said, "Thou hast had pity on the gourd for the which thou hast not

laboured, neither madest it grow; and should not I spare Nineveh,

wherein are more than six score thousand persons, that cannot discern

between their right hand and their left[#]?" How many houses there are

in England, which would be happy ones were it not for this demon form of

discontent. How many families have been made wretched, and homes broken

up, all through discontent. There are people, who enjoy the best of

health, the fruits of the earth in their season, and many other gifts of

God Almighty's providence, and who yet amongst it all lack His great

gift of contentment. And there are others who lie upon beds of

sickness, or beds of pain, in our crowded hospitals, or in loathsome

dens in the back streets of our great cities, and these have that gift

of contentment which the world never gave them, and can never take away.

There are little children, who play happily and contentedly in our great

thoroughfares, who have never seen a country lane, a cornfield, or wild

flower. And there are many grown-up people, to whom these are sights of

every day, and who fail to recognise the hand of the great Giver.

[#] 1 Tim. vi. 6.

[#] Jonah iv. 1.

[#] Jonah iv. 11.

The dew of heaven only falls on those parts of the earth which most need

it--gardens, grasslands, and cornfields. Little, if any, is wasted on

the barren rocks, or on the unthankful sea. So, too, is it with

contentment. God does not lavish it where it will not be gratefully and

thankfully received; but where few of His good things come, in

hospitals, in orphanages, and very often among the poorest of the poor,

there He rains down His great gift in rich abundance, that all men who

see it may wonder, and thank the great Giver of all.

*"I WANT TO BETTER MYSELF."*

"We've no abiding city here:

This may distress the worldling's mind,

But should not cost the saint a tear,

Who hopes a better rest to find."

_Kelly._

"I want to better myself!" How often we hear those words. A man has a

very comfortable place, he has a kind master, a good home, pleasant

companions, and yet he throws up everything and makes a fresh start in a

new place, and all because he says he wants to better himself. Now I am

not going to say one word against a man's trying to better himself. Not

only is there no harm in it, but it is everybody's duty to try and do so

as far as he can. But I hope to shew you, before you put down this

book, that there is more than one way of bettering yourself; that it is

quite possible to change your place, and to get more money by the

change, and yet not to better yourself at all. Do try, first of all, to

get out of your head the idea that money is the great thing. It is not.

It is, of course, necessary to have money, but it is not good for any

body to have too much. You generally find that an increase of wages

means fresh disappointment, while if a man has just enough to live on he

learns to be content. Oh! I know it is the same with all classes. The

rich are quite as bad as the poor; nobody ever has enough.

Now undoubtedly the first thing we ought to look out for, though very

few do so, when trying to better ourselves, is a greater opportunity of

practising our religion. Ask yourself the question, "In changing my

village, am I likely to be any nearer to my God? Shall I read my Bible

more often? Shall I get more time for prayer?" Be sure that the time

thus spent in the service and worship of Almighty God will not be

wasted, for He will make it good.

Again, another question to ask is, "Shall I find as comfortable a home,

and as nice companions, as I have here?" For, I trust, we all know the

influence companions have upon each other. Man was never made to be

alone always, and therefore it is most necessary that his companions

should be good and pleasant men. And who can rightly estimate the value

of a good home. A place to which a man can go at night, instead of the

public-house. A place to which the angels love to come, and bring down

stores of happiness from the presence of God.

And then there is one way more in which a man may better himself; and

that is what most people put first instead of last on the list; I mean,

by money.

Your wages may not be sufficiently high, and you may know of a place

where they are higher. But don't be deceived by the pay given for work

being higher, for other things may be higher too. For instance, in some

country places the wages are twelve shillings a week, while in London

they may be one pound. But in London, clothes are dearer, and you would

want more of them. Lodgings are dearer and harder to get, and, reader,

people are harder too!

But perhaps you will say, "How is it that so many men leave their work

in a place to better themselves, and return without having bettered

themselves at all?" The answer to that question is plain and simple

enough. They thought it was only a question of money, and they looked

no further, and so failed. But if you really wish to better yourself,

ask yourself the questions I have asked above, and don't be satisfied

until you get an answer. Ask God to help you to better yourself, and He

certainly will help you to do so. If He sees it would be good for you,

He will allow you to better yourself in this world; and if not, then He

will take you away, in His own good time, that you may better yourself

in the world to come.

*MASTERS AND MEN.*

"God has given each his station,

Some have riches and high place,

Some have lowly homes and labour,

_All_ may have His precious grace.

And God loveth all His children,

Rich and poor, and high and low,

And they all shall meet in heaven,

Who have served Him here below."

_Mrs. Alexander._

Now I want to say a few plain words about the relations of masters and

men to each other. In these days of unhappy differences between them,

days of constant strikes and lock-outs, it is surely not out of place to

say a few words in the interests of peace. There have no doubt been

faults on the side of the masters, and no doubt faults too on that of

the men. All alike are human, and as such are open to make mistakes,

and very often the mistakes they make are difficult to correct. There

is no doubt that the old spirit of familiar intercourse between masters

and men has passed away. Days when the master was indeed a father to

his people, and when all his workmen loved him, and honoured him as

such. Those days and that spirit have gone from amongst us. In the

country among the farmers we have a different class of men altogether.

In towns the employers of labour are different too. The labouring class

have changed and are changing still. Working men in the country change

their work much oftener than they used to. But there are certain golden

rules which, if carefully followed in spite of all changes, may still be

of use to masters and men. And, first, there is the grand old rule of

"give and take" (the bear and forbear of scripture); without this no

society can hold together, no two classes can live together in unity.

Masters must always give their men the benefit of a doubt in all cases,

and the men on their part must always be ready to acknowledge that their

master wishes to act justly and fairly towards them.

Another golden rule is always to be ready to receive and gratefully

acknowledge kindness. And this too applies quite as much to the master

as to his men. The man who, passing by his master's hayfield, finds

that cattle have got in and drives them out, does his master service.

And the master who knowing of it does not acknowledge the service,

deserves most richly to lose his crop. And the man who in time of

sickness receives from his master wine or other necessaries, and does

not gratefully thank him for the same, deserves to lose his place for

his ingratitude.

I have spoken in another chapter of civil speaking. Nowhere is it more

needful than in the dealings of masters and men. If a master speaks

uncivilly, or harshly, or unkindly to his men, how dare he expect that

they will care to speak civilly in return? And if the men do not speak

civilly to their master, it is certain he won't care to hold much

conversation with them. But, above all, if you would know the right and

proper relations between masters and men, you can't find it better put

than in the Bible. There, either in the dealings of Christ with His

Apostles, or in the epistles of St. Paul and St. James (notably in the

sixth chapter of Ephesians), you will find a fit example for you to copy

in your daily life. St. Paul warns the Ephesians against eye service.

And is there any more necessary caution than that in these days. Men

are so apt--we are all so apt--to slur over our work, to do it

carelessly, that we need to be cautioned that all work is hallowed, and

is done to the Lord. And the masters too will find a word for them.

They are warned against threatening their servants, or speaking harshly

to them, for they too have a Master in heaven, Who will one day be their

Judge.

If you are a master, an employer of labour, then remember that poor

folks have their troubles. They may not be your troubles, and you may

not understand them; but oh, do speak kindly and, if you can, feelingly.

There are some poor fellows working on our English farms and in our

large warehouses who have never known what a kind word meant; whose

earliest recollections carry them back to an ill-tempered mother, or a

drunken father, and to them a kind word would be a comfort indeed.

And if you have to toil, reader, in the sweat of your brow for your

daily bread, remember that your master has his troubles too. Failing

crops or losses in business tell upon his purse, and sometimes on his

temper, and then perhaps he may speak harshly. But it will soon be

over; all the work, all the angry words, all the sorrow, and the great

Master Himself shall enter the harvest-field, and the golden sheaves

shall bow before Him, as they did in Joseph's dream, "for that harvest

is the end of the world, and the reapers are the angels."

*FORGIVENESS OF OTHERS.*

"Oh! never bear malice, 'twill poison the breast,

The storm is all over, then, there let it rest.

The hot word of rage has been truly unkind,

But the sting of deep sorrow may linger behind.

'Twere better to yield than for ever be foes,

One look of compassion strikes harder than blows;

'Tis human to injure--to wound--or to threat,

But oh! 'tis divine to forgive and forget."

_J. Burbidge._

In that beautiful prayer which our blessed Lord left to His disciples,

we have amongst other petitions, one especially directed to the

forgiveness of sin. We ask God to forgive us what we have done amiss

against Him, and call Him to witness that we forgive our brother who has

sinned against us. "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that

trespass against us." You see it is as much as saying to God, that we

_don't_ want Him to forgive us, _unless_ He sees that we have freely

forgiven any who may have sinned against us. Now it is very much

easier, is it not, to speak an angry word, or to think an unkind thought

of anyone who has offended us? It may be they have not even _sinned_

against us. Perhaps they have said something about us which in our

hearts we know to be quite true, only we don't want the neighbours to

know it, and so we pretend it is false; and we pretend to think we have

been injured, and that we have something to forgive. And many of us I

fear go farther still and refuse to bestow forgiveness at all. I have

known forgiveness withheld from people for the smallest reasons. A

family have not received the pew in church they wanted, or their name

has been omitted by mistake from a dinner list, or they were forgotten

in a Christmas charity, or something of the kind. And for such trifles

as these they blame the clergyman generally, forgetting that his parish

work may have taken up his time, and so the mistake may have arisen. And

yet these people are nothing loth to kneel before their Father in

Heaven, and with this unforgiven trespass on their hearts they pray,

"Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against

us."

Perhaps you may say, "I don't see that it matters much to people whether

I forgive them or not. I am but a poor man, and my love or my hatred

can't make much difference to them." But reader, I answer, whether your

friend be rich or poor, if he be a true friend, it will always make the

greatest difference to him, if he have done you hurt, whether he have

your forgiveness or no. And more than this, it matters very much indeed

to Him who has said, "If ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither

will your heavenly Father forgive you your trespasses." And just think

what an awful feeling it would be for you, if you heard that a person

with whom you had a quarrel, had died suddenly, and carried the sense of

his unforgiven trespass into the world to come.

A short time ago in the South of England there lived two friends. They

were always together; they loved each other, and could not bear to be

apart. For a long while, the greater part of a lifetime, this

friendship continued, and as they were both religious men, their

friendship was blessed and strengthened by Almighty God. But after a

while it pleased God to try their love for each other, and like the dead

fly in the ointment, or the worm at the root of Jonah's gourd, he sent a

slight cause of disagreement between them. So slight a matter was it

that it was difficult to say which of the two was to blame, but it was

sufficient to come between them. And so little by little a coldness

arose, each being too proud to say he was in the wrong, until the

coldness ripened into anger, and so they separated. For some years they

lived apart, hearing nothing of each other, until one morning when one

of them was reading the newspaper, he found the report of his friend's

death. So sudden and unexpected was it that it took him quite by

surprise, and he never recovered the shock. Night and day he kept

thinking of years gone by, when they were firm friends, and then he

would remember the evil day when their disagreement took place, and then

came death!

Reader, if you have been living, or are living in enmity with anyone, go

_at once_ and ask their pardon, or if necessary grant it. So shall you

pray with some hope of acceptance the oft-repeated words, and show not

only with your lips, but in your life, that you really mean what you say

when you pray, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that

trespass against us."

"Then forgive and forget!--'tis a rule of such worth,

That 'twould scatter rich blessings all over the earth;

Turn deserts to gardens of beauty and peace,

And bid half the storms of contention to cease.

As we act to ourselves, we should act to another,

And look on each man that we meet as a brother,

In hope that when nature lays claim to her debt,

Our God will in mercy forgive and forget."

*HARD WORK.*

"Work is sweet, for God hath blest

Honest work with quiet rest--

Rest below, and rest above,

In the mansions of His love,

When the work of life is done,

When the battle's fought and won.

Working ere the day is gone,

Working till your work is done:

Not the work that pain imparts,

But the work of honest hearts;

Working till your spirits rest

With the spirits of the blest."

_Anon._

I have spoken so often in these passages already on the subject of work,

that but little remains to be said. And yet there are so many kinds of

work, and hard work too, that we can do on earth, that it seems as

though we could never get to the end of them. There are, for instance,

home work, warfare work, praying work, and a great many other kinds of

work, of which it would take too long to speak now. Of some of these I

have spoken already in this book, but I want to say a few words about

_warfare work_ in this chapter.

Warfare work is perhaps the hardest kind of work of all, because it is

work of the spirit. It is a work that must be always going on, while we

live here; so long as Satan lives to tempt man to sin, man must war

against it. In the sixth chapter of S. John we read in the 28th verse,

"Jesus said unto them, this is the work of God that ye believe on Him,

whom He hath sent." It is no easy thing to believe; nay, it is very

hard to believe simply in Jesus Christ; and yet in the above passage He

Himself speaks of it as the work of all others, which is to be done for

God. When our hearts get crusted over with sin and selfishness, it is

no easy matter to take again the heart of a little child and simply

believe our Father's word; and yet this is needful work for His

children.

But besides this inner struggle, there is another that affects more our

outward life. All have a besetting sin to fight against--drunkenness,

lust, or such like. Very different, however, are the ways in which this

warfare is waged. Some struggle because they can't help it, and are

like "the dumb driven cattle"; others are so feeble that they soon

"By the roadside fall and perish,

Weary with the march of life."

Others try to conceal, even from themselves, that they have a conflict

to maintain. It is the Christian only, who going forth in the strength

of Another, can hope to work joyfully and successfully.

And now having said thus much about warfare work, let me add a few words

about everyday labour, by giving a few hints to those who may be doing

hard work. First, then, _be punctual_. Time is a gift from God. And if

we choose to mislay our own portion, we have no right to take that of

those around us. Just look, for instance, at a case which happens

almost daily. A man starts to go on a long journey. Say, if you will,

he is going to Manchester. His train is so timed, that he reckons it

will arrive in London half-an-hour before the departure of the

Manchester train. In that half-hour, he will have to collect his

luggage, and cross London. The train arrives in London ten minutes

late, the man misses the train for Manchester by five minutes. It may

make a difference to him, all through his life, that he missed that

train. And so you see the need of punctuality. Secondly, _be

thorough_. "Whatsoever thine hand findeth to do, do it _with thy

might_." Do not try and do more than you are able; but what you do, do

well. It is better to do one thing well, than half-a-dozen badly.

There is nothing too small to be done thoroughly--no work so

unimportant, that you can say, "It doesn't matter _how_ I do it." And

this thorough spirit, you will find, will prevent your delaying doing

your work. You won't wish to put off till to-morrow what can be done

to-day.

Thirdly, _be straightforward_; never mind anybody seeing _how_ you work.

Never do evil that good may come. The devil has so much power over the

mind of man that he will readily suggest the evil, but he will keep back

the good which might follow. The Christian's road is the straight road,

where none can lose their way. Any duty that has to be done secretly is

not duty at all, but a sham! The truths that must be made pleasant by

worldly methods will lose their truthfulness, and fail of their effect.

Fourthly, _be patient_; God doesn't care about your success, He looks

upon the unwearied arm, the patient heart. If you measure your work by

that of others you will grow impatient, for in many cases they may seem

to do much more, and to succeed much better than you. Be patient when

your employer speaks sharply to you. It may not be deserved; it may be

he blames you where he should blame someone else; never mind, be

patient. "If ye do good to them which do good to you, what thank have

ye? for sinners also do even the same. But love ye your enemies, and do

good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be

great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest, for He is kind unto

the unthankful and to the evil[#]."

[#] S. Luke vi. 35.

Lastly, reader, _be spiritually minded_. Never let work of any kind

interfere with the worship of God. Remember, He is your Father and your

Friend, as well as "the great Work-master." If we are to work hard in

our earthly business, it must, if it is to prosper, be softened and

mingled with our heavenly work; that so "passing through things temporal

we finally lose not the things eternal."

And then after work comes rest! The body, so worn with sickness, so

faint with toil, so weary with fatigue, will enjoy its rest. Nor will

it rest merely in the green "sleeping-place," which has been beautifully

called "God's acre," beside the quiet river, or by the ancient church;

but it shall rise to take an active part in the great hereafter of the

sons of God. And who shall dare describe to us the rest of the troubled

spirit in the Father's house? Who shall tell us of its wanderings, its

joys, its occupations? It is enough for us to know that "there

remaineth a rest to the people of God[#]." A rest we cannot understand,

we must not seek to know, until that day, when we shall find ourselves

in that heavenly presence, "where the wicked cease from troubling, and

the weary are at rest[#]."

[#] Heb. iv. 9.

[#] Job iii. 17.

*COURTSHIP.*

"Still in the pure espousal

Of Christian man and maid:

The Holy Three are with us,

The threefold grace is said.

For dower of blessed children,

For love and faith's sweet sake,

For high mysterious union,

Which nought on earth may break."

_Keble._

As this book is intended especially for young men, it would manifestly

be incomplete if I were to avoid any subjects upon which young men were

likely to need assistance. And so now I propose to say a few plain

words upon courtship. I know that this is what is called a delicate

subject, and I know too that any words from a stranger upon this subject

must be both carefully and thoughtfully spoken, if they are to find

acceptance. Now courtship, like almost everything else, is open to

abuse; and, like very nearly everything else too, it very often is

abused. It is often made a pretext for impure conversation and indecent

liberties. Have you any right to expect that any marriage, however

suitable the match may be in other ways, if it follows such a courtship

as this, will be blessed by the Almighty, and happy in the end?

Courtship is almost as old as the world. It is the same in all

countries, wherever man is found there courtship exists, in some form or

other. But though courtship is a necessary step to married life, yet it

is by no means necessary that it should be made an excuse for indulging

in impure and filthy conversation. Young men and young women should

remember that wherever they are, and whatever they may be doing, whether

it be work or amusement, they have a duty to perform as Christians which

must come before all other duties whatsoever. I know it is hard for

young men, living in country villages, and continually indulging in what

is called "free talk," to keep such guard over their lips, as to prevent

anything passing but what is strictly pure and right. But it must be

done; for, as I said just now, if the marriage is to have God's

blessing, (and what marriage can be really happy without it?) then the

courtship must be free from sin.

Many young men, again, think it no harm to keep company with a young

woman--to walk with her, as they say--without ever having any serious

thoughts of marrying her at all. Now, this again, is wrong--all wrong.

It is one of the links in the devil's chain, with which he seeks to bind

the souls for whom Christ died. It is one of the many ways by which he

tries to draw souls into his net by teaching them to do wrong, all the

while pretending that there is no harm. Therefore, my advice is, don't

keep company with any young woman you do not mean to marry in the end.

And now one word upon the choice of a wife, for this is most important.

I do not think a man can be too careful in this respect if he wishes to

have a happy home. And this is one of the great benefits of

courtship--it enables a man to get an insight into the character of her

whom he intends to make his wife. Now, of course, there are always many

things which must be left to the man to choose for himself; and

different people will choose very differently. But there are, I think,

certain qualities which, if they were to be found oftener in wives,

would completely change the tone of many of our English homes. Such

qualities are good-temper, cleanliness, cheerfulness, patience,

contentment, and love. I might name many more, but I have no time to

speak of them now. But though at first sight it may seem strange, the

qualities which I have named above are those we most rarely meet with.

But, above all things, it is essential that a man should have a godly

wife, first for his own sake, then for his children's. One who will

look upon prosperity as the gift of a kind Father, Who thinks of the

happiness of His children; and upon adversity, if it come, as part of a

necessary discipline, sent by the same loving Friend. Then the man may

confidently and hopefully take such an one to be his wedded wife, "to

love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health;

and, forsaking all other[#]," keep himself only unto her, so long as

both shall live. And then when the weary days of sickness, or the

solemn hour of dying shall come to him, the wife will be there to nurse

the sick, or close the dying eyes, and to whisper words of comfort to

the departing soul.

[#] Marriage Service.

*MARRIAGE.*

"Husband dear, 'twas your loving hand

Showed the way to that better land,

Oh! how often you cheered me then;

'Things will be better, dear wife, again.'

Hand in hand, when life was May,

Hand in hand now our hair is grey,

Shadow and sun for every one,

As the years roll on.

Hand in hand, when the long night-tide

Gently covers us, side by side,

We will trust, though we know not when,

God will be with us for ever then!"

Before entering on this great and solemn step in life, every man should

read through the service in the Prayer Book for the solemnization of

matrimony. Therein you will see with what awe and reverence it is

spoken of, as a thing "not to be undertaken lightly, but reverently,

discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God[#]."

[#] Marriage Service.

You will find that it was ordained for the mutual society, help, and

comfort of the man and woman, that they ought each to receive from each

other both in prosperity and adversity. Each man and woman is solemnly

reminded of "the dreadful day of judgment," when "the secrets of all

hearts will be disclosed[#]." Could any words be more solemn, or full

of warning? And yet how many enter upon marriage with but little thought

of the solemn vow they then take before God. And this, I think, is

quite sufficient to account for the unhappy results of so many

marriages; for the bitterness and quarrels between husband and wife, and

the frequent applications for divorce. I have already spoken of how

careful you ought to be in making choice of a wife during the days of

courtship. Many men are taken with a pretty face, or a fine dress, or a

bright, cheery manner; but unless there is a good, honest, God-fearing

heart underneath, you may be sure you will not be happy with her when

trials and troubles come, as come they surely must into the lives of

each of us.

[#] Marriage Service.

Now let me earnestly beg of you to think of what you are going to

promise in the Marriage Service. You take each other, as those words so

beautifully express it, "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,

in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish," _until death parts

you_. Remember this--marriage is not merely a passing engagement you can

enter into for a short time and give up when you like. It is not like

courtship. No, it is lifelong. Some, alas! do not look upon it as

binding. But never allow yourself to forget how God looks upon such a

sin; and the Bible tells us that the most terrible judgment awaits those

who have broken their marriage vow. God's laws are written in the

Bible, and no Act of Parliament can change them. The Bible must be the

Christian's rule of life, and its precepts he must follow.

Let yours, then, be _a Christian marriage_--one on which you may trust

God's blessing will rest. Try throughout your life to fulfil what you

then promise, and to make your wife a good, true, and loving husband.

Be good-tempered and forbearing with her. When troubles come, try and

share them bravely together; so that she who has helped to bear your

burden, when the troubles are past, may also be "a helper of your joy."

Your wife has often much to put up with--home cares, troubles with the

little ones, delicate health, a hard struggle, perhaps, "to make both

ends meet;" therefore, when you come home after your day's work, always

have a kind word ready for her. Do not keep an undue share of your wages

for yourself, for amusement, or for drink, but share it with her, giving

her enough to make her home and the children comfortable. In short,

learn to take your rule of life straight from God's Holy Word, where it

is written, "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of

Christ[#]."

[#] Gal. vi. 2.

But, above all, try and help each other on the way to Heaven, and to

live not for yourselves, but for God and for others. Then, indeed, you

will be, as the Marriage Service says, "heirs together of the grace of

life;" not merely of the few short years spent together in this life

present, but of that blessed life beyond the grave, where "there is

neither marrying, nor giving in marriage, but they are as the angels of

God[#]."

[#] S. Matt. xxiv. 38.

*KINDNESS.*

"I ask Thee for a thoughtful love,

Through constant watching wise,

To meet the glad with joyful smiles,

And to wipe the weeping eyes:

And a heart at leisure from itself,

To soothe and sympathise."

_A. L. Waring._

A little kindness goes a long way! There are many people in the world,

nay about our own homes, whom respectable people have given up, as being

hopelessly bad; and who have become what they are because they have

never known what kindness meant. If you were to go through our prisons,

you would find that there is a vast number of criminals in them who can

trace their first step on the road to ruin to the want of a word kindly

spoken. They have never known, what you and I, reader, have enjoyed

perhaps from our childhood up, a mother's tender love. The word "home"

suggests to their minds thoughts of a drunken father, more a beast than

a man; and of a mother who was so taken up with the cares of this world,

that she had no love to give to her children. Yes, I have often heard

of cases, in which a word of kindness, spoken at the right moment, might

have gladdened the whole afterlife. I have known some cases in which

even murder might have been prevented, if only a kind word had taken the

place of an angry one.

Reader, a kind word costs very little, and goes a very long way. Even a

kind look will do something. I once knew a deaf and dumb man, whose

look was so kind that little children would run up to him in the street,

though he was quite powerless to speak kindly to them. I have spoken of

forgiveness of others--kindness and forgiveness are very nearly

connected. A really kind man is always a forgiving man; and he who

knows how to forgive is always a kind-hearted person.

Kindness shows itself in all the relations of life. A kind man is kind

to his wife, kind to his children, and kind to his friends. But nowhere

does real kindness show itself more strongly in a man, than when he is

kind to animals. They quickly understand and are thankful for kindness;

and in their way repay it. For instance, everybody who has had anything

to do with horses knows how far a little kindness will go with them.

Very often a horse's temper is upset for a whole day, because he was

unkindly treated at starting. Then there are numbers of horses whose

tempers have been completely ruined by their having been ill-treated

when they were young. Oh! yes, a little kindness goes a long way; and

it amply repays the bestower to see how gladly and how thankfully it is

received.

We have, many of us, heard the story of the soldier who was killed in

battle, and whose dog, unknown to him, had followed him, until he fell;

and how when night descended on the battlefield, the faithful creature,

mindful of his dead master's kindness to him, refused to quit the

corpse, but stayed there to protect it. We have heard, many of us, the

story of the poor beggar, with no friend on earth but one little dog,

who, in return for his kindness in giving it food, followed him in his

weary walks, until at last, on the cold and snowy high road, when the

poor man lay down to die, it was his only companion. When in the morning

a party of travellers passed along the road, they found them lying dead

together, with a shroud of pure white snow covering them both. Then

again you may have, seen Landseer's beautiful picture of "The Shepherd's

chief mourner." The room is deserted, and the coffin is alone in the

middle, with the shepherd's plaid thrown over it; alone, yet not alone,

for there, with his head resting on his master's coffin, sits "the

shepherd's chief mourner," the sheep-dog, who had followed him in life,

and will not leave him, even after death. And if kindness, heaven-born

kindness, goes so far with the lower animals, it has an equal, may I not

say even a greater influence upon mankind. Which of us has not felt

sometimes the benefit of kindness? It may have been in a time of

sickness, or sorrow, it may have been a kindly word spoken as we passed

away from a new-made grave. But whatever may have been the

circumstances under which it was spoken, there can be but few whom a

kind word has failed to reach. And if this is so; if _we_ have derived

joy and happiness from a kind word, why not speak a kind word to others,

after the example of our God, "for He is kind, to the unthankful and the

evil[#]."

[#] S. Luke vi. 35.

Strive, then, to practise the golden rule of kindness, in whatever

station God has placed you. Be genial, be kind, be civil to all,

following the Apostolic rule, "Be ye kind one to another,

tender-hearted, forgiving one another: even as God, for Christ's sake,

hath forgiven you[#]."

[#] Ephesians iv. 32.

*OUR PARENTS.*

"Who sat and watched my infant head,

When sleeping on my cradle bed?

And tears of sweet affection shed?

My Mother!

Who taught my infant lips to pray,

And love God's holy Book, and Day,

And walk in wisdom's pleasant way?

My Mother!

And God, Who lives above the skies,

Would look with anger in His eyes,

If I should ever dare despise

My Mother!"

Our earliest recollections are of our father and mother! All through

our childhood they were near us, joining in our play, nursing us in

sickness, comforting in pain or trouble. All that made us happy, or

that made the world seem bright to us, they gave us. They were always

ready to reward us when we were good; they were always grieved when we

did wrong. We never can repay our parents for all their kindness to us

in our infancy. All the labour which supplied the bread we ate and the

bed we slept on; and shall not we do what we can for them in their old

age? If your parents, reader, were religious people, they prayed for

you besides, and you will never know on this side the grave how many

early temptations those prayers may have kept off. You can understand

now why it was that your parents sometimes punished you for doing wrong,

though you might not have seen the wisdom of it then. And the day will

come, believe me, when you will learn--it may be only "through much

tribulation"--the wisdom of the punishments inflicted by our Father in

heaven. "For _now_ we see through a glass darkly; but _then_ face to

face: now I know in part, but _then_ shall I know even as also I am

known." And now, in all humility, do let me say a word to those parents

into whose hands this book may chance to fall. I have spoken of

influence and its wonderful power in the other parts of this book. I

have repeatedly dwelt on the necessity of setting a good example; let me

do so once again here. I cannot put what I wish to say into better, or

shorter, or simpler language than it has been put by a recent writer,

who speaks as follows--"Old friends," he says, "fathers, mothers, whose

heads are filled with the snows of age, whose brows are furrowed deep

with the traces of life's cares and burthens, perhaps with the thorns of

its crown, we look to you to teach us all that God means by death; all

the blessings with which the angel who guides our pilgrimage comes

laden, when he advances to clasp our hand, to be to us a rod and a staff

through the glooms that hang about the threshold of the ever-lasting

home. We look to see you with something of the brightness of the

heavenly home upon you now; a gleam in the eyes, a tone in the look and

bearing, which have been caught from long communion with the things and

beings, whose full glory awaits you there. No complaints, no sadness,

no sorrowful looking back to the world which you are leaving, and where

your place, to which you thought yourself all-important, is already

filled."

Lastly, let me return for a moment to those to whom this book is

specially addressed. Young men, it is your duty and your privilege

alike to take care of your parents, and to provide for their wants when

they are too old or infirm to do so for themselves. Be laying by a

little store of money now against that day, if it be only a few pence a

week that you can save out of your wages, you can't think what a help it

may be hereafter. You wouldn't like your children to leave you to die

in the workhouse; you wouldn't like, when old age comes, to feel that

you and your wife, who had lived happily together for years, were now to

be taken to live within high walls in a pauper's dress, and not be free

to go in and out as you pleased. You wouldn't like to find that you

were suffering all this want, while your son, who was quite able to keep

you out of it, was drinking away his wages in the nearest public-house.

And if you wouldn't like this yourself, why should you treat your

parents so? This, as you know, is not a made-up case; it is happening

every day in almost every village in the country. God gave us parents,

first, that they might take care of us; and then, if need be, that we

should take care of them. The earthly parent should be in every way a

pattern of the heavenly, for He is good, "even to the unthankful and the

evil," to the just and to the unjust alike.

Reader, if you have not been doing your duty to your parents hitherto,

go and begin at once. Try and make the old folks comfortable. Let them

feel that their son is indeed a comfort to them, and a stay in their old

age. And then, when old age comes upon you, God will repay you. In the

hour of sickness He will be with you, comforting and blessing you: until

the time come when you too have to lean on your staff for very age,

while the shadows grow darker and darker round you.

*OUR CHILDREN.*

"Oh! there are times when to our sight,

E'en on this side the grave, is given

A glimpse revealing in full light

The triumphs gained on earth by heaven.

In Him our little ones are great,

In Him our feeble folk are strong;

And childhood sits in high estate

Amid the martyrs' noble throng."

_R. Tomlins._

God has committed no more solemn charge to our care than that of our

children. Over and over again in the Gospels do we find that Jesus

called attention to little children. On one occasion you will remember

that strife having arisen among the disciples, as to which of them

should be greatest in the kingdom of heaven, Jesus, perceiving it, took

a little child, and set him by His side; and from this simple

circumstance He taught His disciples that in order to enter into that

kingdom, they must receive His message with the same simple, trustful

faith, as would a little child. And once again, we read that the

parents brought their little ones to Him that He might bless them; and

when His disciples, being vexed that their Master's time should be taken

up with what they doubtless considered a trifling matter, Jesus, we

read, rebuked them, and said, "Suffer the little children to come unto

Me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God[#]."

[#] S. Mark x. 13.

Reader, the times have not changed so much, since Jesus walked upon our

earth, that we can afford to disregard His words. Do remember that if

you use bad language, or tell an impure story, or even speak an unkind

word, you may be putting a stumbling-block in the children's way, and

keeping them from Christ.

And now let me say a word concerning Baptism. I do not believe, and our

Church nowhere teaches her children to believe, that a child who dies

unbaptised is in danger of eternal damnation. But she does tell us that

_the parents_ who keep their children back from that sacred ordinance,

are in danger of punishment. She goes straight to the Bible, as her

authority, and points out the blame which our Lord attached to the

disciples, who would have kept the children from Him, teaching us

thereby that the same kind of blame belongs to those parents who keep

their children from holy Baptism now.

And when your children are baptised the great thing to remember is

example. Parents, set a good example to your children at home.

Children very quickly notice anything that is wrong, and as quickly copy

it. And then they go out, and teach it to other children, and so by

your bad example at home, you may have destroyed the happiness of many

lives. Teach your children rather that they may have an interest beyond

the grave, that for them there is laid up a rich reward in our Father's

kingdom. "I pity," says a recent writer, "the son, who has never had an

interest beyond the grave; but I pity far more the mother, who has never

told him of the rest that remaineth for the people of God."

There were once two fathers, both of whom God had blessed with children.

One lived on the river Mississippi, in America. He was a man of great

wealth. Yet he would have freely given it all to have brought back his

son from an early grave. One day that boy had been borne home

unconscious. They did everything that they could to restore him, but in

vain. "He will die," said the doctor. "But doctor," cried the poor

father, "can you do nothing to bring him to consciousness, even for a

moment?" "That may be," said the doctor, "but he can't live." Time

passed, and after awhile the father's wish was gratified. "My son," he

whispered, "the doctor tells me you are dying." "Well," said the boy,

"you never prayed for me, father, won't you pray for my lost soul now?"

The father wept. It was too true he had _never prayed_. He was a

stranger to God. And in a little while that soul, unprayed for, passed

into eternity. Young man, the day will come, when you perhaps will be a

father too. If your boy was dying, and called on you to pray, could you

lift your burdened heart to Heaven? Have you learned this sweetest

lesson of heaven or earth, to know and hold communion with your God?

And before this evil world shall have marked your dearest treasures for

its prey, oh learn to lead your little ones to a children's Christ. But

what a contrast was the other father! He too had a lovely boy, and one

day he came home to find him at the gates of death. "A great change has

come over our boy," said the weeping mother; "he has only been ill a

little while, but it seems now as if he were dying fast." The father

went into the room, and put his hand on his son's forehead. He could

see the boy was dying. He could feel the cold damp of death. "My son,

do you know you are dying?" he asked. "No, father, am I?" said the boy.

"Yes, my boy, you can't live till the evening." "Well, then, I shall be

with Jesus to-night, shan't I, father?" "Yes, my son, you will spend

to-night with the Saviour." As he turned away, the little fellow saw

tears trickling down his father's cheeks. "Don't weep for me," he said;

"when I get to heaven, I shall go straight to Jesus, and tell Him that

ever since I can remember, you have tried to lead me to Him." Reader,

if God should give you a son, and should see fit to take him again to

Himself, would you not rather he should carry such testimony as that to

your Master, than have all the wealth of the world rolled at your son's

feet?

Once more, then, let me earnestly pray you to set a good example. Young

man, set a good example to the boys who work with you on the farm or

elsewhere. They will be ready to pick up anything good or bad from you.

And if they once learn it, it will be very hard to unlearn it again.

And to all who read this book, whether their work lie in the farm, in

the counting-house, in the barracks, or on board ship, my last words are

the same; the great secret of example is purity of heart and life.

Never do anything or say anything that you would be ashamed for God to

hear. And if you yourself have never thought how little it would profit

you to gain the whole world, and lose your own soul, I beseech you not

to let another sun go down before you think out that great question.

*HOME.*

"Friend,--when in trial and suffering,

Where dost thou find thy home?

Where in thy pain canst thou seek relief,

Where in thy sorrows come?

Where from the world's rude conflict

Canst thou find a calm retreat?

Where learn afresh with courage

Thy trials and sorrows to meet?

Where is thy shield from adversity's dart?

Friend, thy _home_ is a loved one's heart.

Man,--when thy heart is torn with grief,

When thy hopes are for ever gone,

When adversity's cloud hangs over thy head,

And earth's troubles weigh thee down,--

When those whom thou lovest have turned away,

And cruelly slighted thee,--

When thy heart is crushed, and thy joys are gone,--

For shelter, oh! where canst thou flee?

Man, though from comfort on earth thou'rt driven,

Thy home and thy joys are with God in Heaven."

_L. Jewitt._

Home! What a word that is. Is there any word like it? Any that brings

so much joy, or so much sorrow, into the human breast? The fisherman

who has toiled all night and caught nothing, looks anxiously for dawn,

because he knows that then he will return home to wife and children. The

sailor, toiling over the endless sea, rejoices as he thinks that each

moment he is nearing home. The labourer in the fields is glad when the

hot sun sinks towards the west, because it is nearly time to go home.

The boy at school longs for the holidays to come because it means home,

and to him home is everything. The weary traveller, well-nigh dead with

fatigue, who sees his distant home from the top of a neighbouring hill,

gathers fresh strength from the sight to continue his journey.

But the home can only be really home in the truest and best sense of the

word, when the people who live there make it home-like. It need have no

costly adornments, but every member of the family should have "the

ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of

great price." There should be no display of angry tempers, or of hard

words. Kindness should reign there; gentleness and love should be

practised there. In short, that home can only be a happy one which is a

copy of the home in heaven. Parents have a very solemn and important

duty to perform here. It is for them to make their homes not nurseries

of vice and sin, but homes of love and happiness, where Jesus and His

angels will be glad to come. How many men and women there are who can

trace an evil, misspent, sinful life back to their early home. It was,

may be, from a father's lips they first learnt to swear; perhaps from a

mother's example they first learnt to lie. And the children, too, have

a solemn duty to perform with regard to home. There are life lessons

which must be learnt at home, if we would learn them at all. Obedience,

purity, love, and piety, all must be learnt at home; and if these are

indeed to be found there, the home on earth is a fit type of the home in

heaven.

Reader, are you doing your utmost to make your home on earth like the

home beyond? Perhaps you have never thought much about it. Perhaps you

have never considered that there was any connection between them. But

there is; there should be. They should be, as it were, the same home,

separated indeed by a narrow gulf, but joined by a bridge over which all

must pass, even death itself.

Some people look upon death quite wrongly, for this reason. If one of

their children die, they almost think that when the earth covers it they

will never see it again; but the Bible does not teach that. Rather

should we feel, in the beautiful words of the hymn, that our little ones

are going home--

"They are going--only going--

Jesus called them long ago;

All the wintry time they're passing

Softly as the falling snow.

When the violets in the spring-time

Catch the azure of the sky,

They are carried out to slumber

Sweetly, where the violets lie.

All along the mighty ages,

All adown the solemn time,

They have taken up their homeward

March to a serener clime,

Where the watching, waiting angels

Lead them from the shadow dim,

To the brightness of His Presence

Who has called them unto Him."

Yes, it is even so, "they are going, only going," from the home on earth

to the home in heaven. Going from pain and sorrow and sin to a better

home, where there is no bitter parting, no more sorrow, and no more

death. And looking at it in this light, would you wish to keep them,

would you even seek to stay their departure for one short hour. The

home on earth is subject to sickness, to sorrow, and partings. But the

home in heaven knows none of these. We cannot always stay at home on

earth, but must needs go out to work for our living among strangers.

But when we once reach the many mansions of our Father's house, we shall

go no more out. There will be no more sleepless nights, or sunless

days, for the Sun of righteousness shines on all alike, "and there is no

night there."

Strive then to dwell together in unity on earth; doing _your_ best to

make home what home should be, and God will do the rest.

*HEAVEN OUR HOME. PART I.*

"There is a blessed Home

Beyond this land of woe,

Where trials never come,

Nor tears of sorrow flow.

There is a land of peace,

Good angels know it well:

Glad songs that never cease

Within its portals swell."

_Baker._

Our thoughts, as Christians, must needs often turn upon our heavenly

home. The labourer toiling in the hot harvest-field often thinks of his

distant cottage. The sailor upon the lonely sea is often thinking of

those at home. And the Christian, in the midst of his troubles and

temptations here, must often think of his home beyond. Heaven is the

dwelling-place of God. It matters little how far away it is. God is

there, and that is enough. We often feel sad when we think of our dear

ones who have left us. But if we could look beyond the veil into the

eternal city, we should see the Good Shepherd leading them by the green

pastures, and beside the still waters. Our friends, who have died in

the fear of God, are not lost to us for ever, only gone before. They

had a desire "to depart and to be with Christ, which is far

better"--better than the suffering, and the sorrow, and the toil. And

Christ has given them their wish. And He has told us that if we would

rejoin them one day, and be with them for ever, we must not lay up

treasure on earth, but in heaven. Earthly treasure, gold, silver, land,

popularity, and the praise of men, these may be taken from us, and given

to others. But heavenly treasure--purity of life, love to God, helping

travellers on the road to heaven--these we may lay up now, with the

certainty that we shall never lose _them_, either in this world or in

that which is to come.

I read a story the other day of a rich man in America, to whom a person

went to try and interest him in mission work. The rich man took him up

to the top of his house, and said to him, "Look yonder over that

beautiful rolling plain, that is all mine as far as the eye can reach."

He took him round again to the other side, and showed him thirty miles

of pasture, with horses and cattle feeding. "They are all mine," he

said, "I have made it all myself." Then he pointed proudly towards the

town, and showed him streets and warehouses, and a great hall named

after himself, and said once more, "They are all mine; I came into this

country a poor man, but my own industry has done it all." The other

listened patiently until he had done speaking, and then pointing upward

to the sky, he asked, "And what have you got there?" "Where?" asked the

rich man. "In heaven!" said the other. "I have got nothing there," he

answered bitterly. Alas, he had lived his three-score years and ten,

and must soon enter eternity, and yet he had no treasure in heaven!

Reader, where is _your_ treasure? "Where your treasure is there will

your heart be also[#]." There is no harm whatever in your feeling

pleasure in your cottage, or your garden, or your field. But when these

things shut out thoughts of God, and thoughts of heaven, from that

moment they become sinful.

"I'm but a stranger here;

Heaven is my Home.

Earth is a desert drear;

Heaven is my Home.

Danger and sorrow stand

Round me on every hand;

Heaven is my Father-land;

Heaven is my Home.

What though the tempest rage!

Heaven is my Home.

Short is my pilgrimage;

Heaven is my Home.

And time's wild wintry blast

Soon will be overpast;

I shall reach Home at last;

Heaven is my Home.

There at my Saviour's side;

Heaven is my Home.

I shall be glorified;

Heaven is my Home.

Then with the good and blest,

Those on earth I love the best,

I shall for ever rest;

Heaven is my Home."

[#] S. Matt. vi. 21.

*HEAVEN OUR HOME. PART II.*

"While I do my duty,

Pressing through the tide,

Whisper Thou of beauty

On the other side.

Tell who will the story

Of our now distress--

Oh! the future glory,

Oh! the loveliness."

_J. M. Neale._

I have thought it best in writing on so wide a subject as "Heaven our

home," to divide it into two parts; so that in this chapter I shall

finish with a few practical thoughts on the subject we entered upon in

our last. I there spoke about laying up treasure in Heaven. I gave you

the advice our blessed Lord gave when He was upon earth, and pointed out

how very much more valuable to the Christian man would be a little

treasure laid up in Heaven, than all the wealth this world could give

rolled together at his feet.