You know how, when you used to go to school, prizes were sometimes

given. And you know, if ever you brought home a prize, how your

brothers and sisters would come round you, eager to get the first look.

Well, it is just the same in life! This life is but a school-time, a

growing-time, a running-time, in which we all set out to win a prize,

and that prize is the home in Heaven. Try and get the first prize,

reader, in this life-school. How to be most like Christ, that is the

lesson given you to learn. "As for the prizes that God has ready, I

cannot tell you about them; for they are more beautiful than anything

you have ever seen, or can fancy. In that glorious country where our

Father's home is, you will have such prizes as you never could have

dreamt of." When the time to receive the prize will come I cannot tell;

that will depend partly upon the way in which the lesson is

learnt--though some there are, alas! who never learn it at all. Never

trouble yourself about the time; "Whenever it is time for you to go

home, our Father will send for you." I remember a noble boy who gave

promise, if he had lived, to do something good and great; he was

sunshine in the house, and made his parents' hearts like summer. In the

morning he was full of health and spirits, ready to enjoy to the full

all the games and sports of the holiday; in the afternoon he was dying

from an accident--not in pain, but calm and quiet. The next day, when

he had gone home to God, his little sister came to their mother, and

said, "Shall we crown him, mother?" "Crown him! yes, by all means, for

he is a brave little soldier, who has fought for Christ. He tried to be

like Jesus--obedient, unselfish, and loving, and now he has gone back to

his Father's home, where they will make a wreath for him of fadeless

roses and lilies of light. Yes, crown him with many crowns; you can

find none so beautiful as those which the angels have been weaving for

him in Heaven."

Now I want you to look at "Heaven our home" in two different ways: 1. as

our reward, 2. as our rest. First, then, as our reward: God rarely

gives man a command without giving him a promise also. It was so, you

know, with Abraham. In Genesis xii. 1, we read, "The Lord had said unto

Abram, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy father's house, unto a

land that I will shew thee"--that was the command. "And I will make of

thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and

thou shalt be a blessing," and that was the promise. And I could name a

number of God's saints in every age, to whom He has given commands, but

seldom or never without a promise.

Reader, God has given you a command, the command to follow Him, and work

for Him, and love Him; and He has given you a promise, that if you serve

Him faithfully here you shall reign with Him eternally hereafter in

Heaven. And, oh! think of the kindness of our Heavenly Father! Just

compare the two--a few years of sickness, sorrow, and labour here, and

then an eternity of rest and perfect happiness there.

Secondly, look at Heaven as our rest. And perhaps there is no way of

looking at it which gives us more thankfulness than this. Sorrow and

labour we must have here, but there we shall have rest, and our "rest

shall be glorious." "Everything round us here has a capacity for rest

as well as action. The stormy winds and restless waters can at times be

calm and still. The city, with its ceaseless hum and stir of voices and

footsteps, lies hushed and quiet in its nightly rest. The railway, with

its snorting engines, its crowded stations, and lightning speed, seems

as if it knew no rest; yet a moment after the flying train has gone

there is no sign of life or motion along its iron rails." And so, too,

is it with life. The most active Christian will one day be at rest.

Like the stormy waves, or the whistling train, he cannot work for ever,

and after his work is over then will come rest.

Oh! reader, Heaven is indeed a home worth working for. Where is the

home on earth, in which we never hear an angry word, or never see a cold

or passionate look? But it won't be so in Heaven! In our Father's

kingdom we shall hear no angry words, and we shall have nothing but the

kindest looks. God is there, and Jesus is there; and there too we shall

meet our friends who are now "absent from the body," but "present with

the Lord." The mother who first taught you to speak the name of your

Heavenly Father will be there. The father, whose bright Christian

example you remember as a child, will be there. Your brothers and

sisters will be there. All, in short, will be there, who by their bright

Christian examples have helped you on the road to Heaven; for all God's

saints will be there, enjoying their reward and resting from their

labours.

Young man, the same Heaven is open to you as to them. The same

battle-field lies before you; the same cross and the same crown. The

same heavenly watchers as welcomed them are waiting to receive you into

your heavenly home. It is for you to say whether you will accept their

invitation to come. It is for you to show by your daily life and

conversation whose side you have chosen in the battle of life, whose

home you will live in hereafter.

*SUNDAY.*

"Oh! pass not hence so swiftly,

Bright Sabbath hours, we pray;

None other tell so sweetly

Of regions far away.

No breath of flowers at eventide,

When the rain-cloud's store is spent;

No cooling airs so softly glide

From the sultry firmament;

No waveless calm along the deep,

When its fever-pulse is still;

No visitings of dew-like sleep

To eyelids worn with ill."

_F. C. Boyce._

The word "Sabbath" means _rest_. And such indeed God intended Sunday to

be. "Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work, but the seventh

day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God[#]." Our Saviour indeed teaches

us that the stern and strict way in which the Sabbath was kept by the

Jews was an unnecessary and painful discipline. He told the people it

was quite lawful to do good on the Sabbath day, even though that good

might be misinterpreted and misunderstood. He taught us that Sunday was

a day sacred to God, and not to man, and that "the Sabbath was made for

man, and not man for the Sabbath[#]." You know the old words--

"A Sabbath well spent

Brings a week of content,"

and if you will try to put that old maxim into force, you will find as

you give up the Sunday to God and His service, so surely will He be with

you during the week. For now the old Jewish Sabbath has given place to

the Christian Sunday--our Lord chose "the first day of the week" on

which to rise from the grave, and the Church has fitly chosen the first

day of the week as the best on which to meet together to worship her

ascended Lord.

[#] Exod. xx. 8.

[#] S. Mark ii. 7.

Sunday was never meant to be a dreary day, or a wretched day, any more

than it was meant to be a working day, or a drinking day. And if you

give the day to God, be sure He will give you plenty of amusement, and

plenty of happiness. His is no wearisome service, His is no tiring

Sunday task, but in His worship you will find peace, and His service is

perfect freedom.

Sunday, again, is most valuable to working men as a _day of rest_.

During the great French Revolution, those who were at the head of

affairs determined that they would neither fear God nor regard man; and

so they passed a law to the effect that none should pay any heed to

Sunday, to its services, its lessons, or its rest. And what was the

consequence? Why, these ungodly men, looking at it only from a worldly

point of view, found that it was quite impossible for the body or mind

of man to keep on working day after day, and week after week. And so

the plan failed, and Sunday came to be restored again. You must have

felt the need of Sunday rest, after the week's toil sometimes too; you

must have felt ready to cry out, in the words of the Postman's song,

"We ask one day in seven,

'Twas ours since time began--

Sent by the love of heaven,

In pity for toil-worn man."

Look once more on Sunday as _a thinking day_. Men, and especially

working men, need some quiet hours, when they can cease work and let

their thoughts turn to the world to come. And this is one great use of

Sunday. There is a quiet calm in the air; no sound of the threshing

machine or the ploughman's voice breaks the stillness; man can feel that

he is _alone with God_. And so wandering out into the fields at

eventide, or sitting in his cottage garden, or by his hearth when the

little ones are in bed, he can think of his prospects and hopes here

below, and still more of those in the world to come.

Lastly, Sunday is _a day of learning_. On Sunday we go up to church,

and learn from God's minister's lips the lessons of His love. We sit at

home and we read our books, and most of all the Bible, that Book of

books, which is specially fit for working men to read. We go out

walking in the fields, and see God's works in nature, and from them too

we learn something; and as we learn these lessons on earth, they serve

to bring us nearer to our Father in heaven.

But do remember this; that Sundays on earth are meant to be as far as

possible copies of that eternal Sabbath rest above. The service of

prayer and praise with which our churches re-echo on earth, are but

copies of the grand and perfect worship in the courts of heaven. The

evening hours spent with our family before going to rest, are but a type

and shadow of the eternity we shall spend in that family of which God is

the Head, and Jesus Christ the Elder Brother. And the comfortable home,

which God has given us on earth, is after all but a faint picture of

those many mansions, "where the sun shines for ever, and the flowers

never die."

*CHURCH.*

"The Church's one foundation

Is Jesus Christ her Lord;

She is His new Creation

By water and the Word:

From Heaven He came and sought her

To be His holy Bride,

With His own Blood He bought her,

And for her life He died."

_S. J. Stone._

How very often it happens, when the subject of religion is mentioned,

that we hear people say, "I go regularly to church." And this is thrown

in the teeth of the clergy, as if the very fact of church attendance was

quite enough in itself to save the soul. But do you think that Jesus

Christ would have left His Father's throne in heaven, and lived those

thirty troubled years, and died that terrible death, if salvation was so

easy? Do you think that if men could be saved by merely going to

church, our blessed Lord would have made use of such expressions as

"_Strive_" (that is, toil, labour hard) "to enter in at the strait

gate," or again, "Many shall seek to enter in, and shall not be able"?

I hardly think He would. Religion was made for man, and not man for

religion. It was given him as the means whereby he might speak to God,

and hold frequent communion with his Maker. It is quite possible to be

a most regular attendant at church, and yet to go away without receiving

the slightest benefit.

Some time ago I heard of an old woman who regularly went to a place of

amusement, where she had been accustomed to go as a child. And though

she became at last quite deaf, and nearly blind, she still persisted in

going. And, reader, there is such a thing as deafness of the soul. The

beautiful words of Scripture, the grand soul-stirring music, the

touching words of our Church's prayers, may all pass by unheeded, unless

the soul is waiting upon that God Who is her helper and deliverer. But

there is quite another class of persons, who receive no benefit from our

Church's services. I mean those who never go to church at all.

Sometimes when the clergyman goes to see them they find it convenient to

tell a lie, and say they are chapel people; but they never go to chapel.

They live from day to day, and from year to year, as if there was no

God, no church, no minister, no Bible. And when they come to die, what

then? They go down into that dark hereafter of uncertainty; uncertain

indeed to them, for they have neglected during their life everything

that kindles and keeps alive the hope of a better world.

Reader, if this is your case, if you have neglected church-going, let me

implore you to do so no longer. The day will come when you will have to

confess your sins, not to man but to God. There will be no concealment

then; no shirking, or hiding your real motives under cover of a lie. The

eyes of Almighty God will look you through and through; and if you take

any excuses to Him, be sure they will not avail you.

Some people, again, there are who stay away from church for the

following reason. They feel that they believe the Word of God, and all

the great truths written in the Bible; but they also feel that they love

the world very much, more indeed than they love Christ, and if they

become Christians they think they will have to give up all pleasure and

go through the world with a long face, and never smile or laugh again.

But, believe me, no greater lie was ever forged than that. The devil

started it thousands of years ago in sunny Eden; but there is not one

word of truth in it; it has been well called "a libel on Christianity."

It does not make a man gloomy to become a child of God. Do you think

that if a man is dying of thirst and you give him a drink of water, that

the _drink_ makes him gloomy? Do you think that when the Queen's

gracious message of pardon comes to a condemned murderer, that the

_pardon_ makes him a gloomy man for the rest of his days? Oh, no. And

that is what Christ and Christianity are to the soul of man. What the

water is in the one case, what the Queen's free pardon is in the other,

so is religion, so is church-going, so is Bible-reading, so is Christ to

the soul. Oh, then, come to church, the church of your baptism, the

church of your fathers. Come to it as God's own blessed appointed means

of salvation. Join in the prayers and praises. Listen to the lessons

and the sermon, and ask that your heavenly Father may send His blessing

upon your hard and stony heart. And don't forget this most important

duty, without which all church-going, all prayer, and all sacraments

will be worse than useless,--don't forget to practise in the week the

lessons you have learnt in church on Sunday. You will learn there the

lessons of life, the lessons of holiness, therefore act up to what you

hear, and "let your light so shine before men, that they may see your

good works, and glorify"--_not you_, but--"your Father which is in

heaven[#]."

[#] S. Matt. v. 16.

*HOLY COMMUNION. PART I.*

"Once, only once, and once for all,

His precious life He gave;

Before the Cross our spirits fall,

And own it strong to save."

_Canon Bright._

It is such a very sad sight Sunday after Sunday to see so many people,

and especially young men, go out of church when the Holy Communion is

going to be administered. In so many churches, even in those where the

congregations are large, we see the great bulk of the congregation

getting up, as soon as the sermon is over, and leaving church. You may

perhaps often have been among the departing guests, you may have sung

the words,--

"My God, and is Thy Table spread?

And doth Thy Cup with Love o'erflow?

Thither be all Thy children led,

And let them all Thy sweetness know."

Yes, you may often have sung those words, and yet left the church with

the rest, directly after singing them. You had been asking Him that

_all_ His children might be led to His Table, and yet you yourself

walked out of church among the first. And yet you say, perhaps, many

people do it. My friend, is that any reason why _you_ should do it?

When God comes to judge you, He will not ask you what _many_ people did,

neither will He ask you what your friends and neighbours did, but He

will ask you what _you_ did.

Our Saviour told His disciples of a certain broad way, and of a great

company who were walking along it. He told them moreover of a wide gate

by which the multitude entered, but which opened on destruction. And

again He told them of a certain narrow way, and of a straight gate,

leading unto life, and of this gate He added, "few there be that find

it[#]."

[#] S. Matt. vii. 13, 14.

Now one of the great helps to travellers on the latter road is this

Communion Feast. To the worthy partaker, to the travel-stained and

weary wayfarer there come "times of refreshing from the presence of

Jehovah[#];" times when he may turn aside from the rugged way, and rest

awhile before resuming his march heavenward. God has provided many

helps for Christian soldiers, but I know of none so mighty, so

comforting, so refreshing as that of the Holy Communion of His Body and

His Blood.

[#] Acts iii. 19.

Now we often hear objections raised to coming to Holy Communion. And

one of those most often given is, "I am not good enough to come."

Reader, which of us is _good enough_ for that sacred feast? If you are

waiting until you are "good enough," I fear you will have to wait until

your hair grows white with age, and even then you will not be "good

enough." It is like a man who has never been into the water, standing

on the river brink, and saying he wishes to bathe. And I go to him, and

say, "Why don't you go in? there is the river, there are numbers of

bathers already in the water, you can see what it is like, why not go

in?" And he answers me, "I won't go into the water until I can swim."

What could you say to such a person as that? Would you not tell him

that the only way for him to learn to swim was by going into the water?

And that is just the mistake people make about Holy Communion. They

think it is intended for saints, not for sinners. But this is not so;

Holy Communion is for the sinner, who feels his sin and feels his need

of a Saviour. If you feel that you are a sinner, and that you want to

get the better of your sin, and to lead a new life; if you really hate

your sin, and really love Christ, then come to Holy Communion: for

Christ has appointed it for you especially. He will not ask you to give

Him any promise that you cannot keep. All he requires is that you should

try and do your duty, your duty to God, and your duty to man, and to do

it lovingly and cheerfully, "as to the Lord, and not unto men[#]."

[#] Col. iii. 23.

*HOLY COMMUNION. PART II.*

"O agony of wavering thought,

When sinners first so near are brought!

'It is my Maker--dare I stay?

My Saviour--dare I turn away?'"

_Keble._

I felt that in one short chapter it was quite impossible to grasp all,

or nearly all the objections to coming to Holy Communion; and so I

propose in this chapter to speak of one more objection, commonly brought

forward, before closing this subject.

You will remember that in the last chapter we considered the objection

of not being good enough. Now another very common objection, and one

very often heard, is, "I am afraid of being laughed at!" Perhaps you

will say, "I never have said that." No, reader, you may never have

_said_ it with your lips, but have you never _thought_ it in your heart?

This power of laughter, or ridicule as it is called, is a terrible one

indeed. There is hardly a weapon in Satan's armoury which he uses with

such deadly effect upon the souls of men. Very many a young man goes up

to the Bishop for Confirmation, and the Bishop lays his hands upon his

head, and then as those grand old words, which have been spoken over the

heads of so many, are said over him, "Defend, O Lord, this Thy child

with Thy heavenly grace," the Holy Ghost enters into his soul, and for

the moment he feels that he can go out and conquer. But his good

resolves--and they are really good--are too often like the seeds which

fell in stony places, which "had no deepness of earth: and when the sun

was up, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered

away." And then the young man leaves the church, with his good resolves

fresh made; and from that moment there begins within him the struggle,

which is to end in Heaven or in Hell. He goes and joins his companions,

and if he says anything about religion he gets laughed at, and in too

many cases he forgets his Confirmation vows, and the good in him quickly

dies. I cannot help thinking that the reason why so many young men fall

away after Confirmation, is because they neglect to go _at once_ to the

Holy Communion of Christ's Body and Blood. Oh! yes, ridicule is indeed

hard to bear, even for the best amongst us. "Almost any man," says

Canon Farrar, "will confront peril with a multitude; scarcely one in a

thousand will stand alone against a multitude when they are bent on

wrong ... for martyrdom (or bearing witness for Christ) is not one, but

manifold; it is often a battle-field where no clash of earthly

combatants is heard; it is often a theatre no wider than a single,

nameless home."

But just think for a moment of this laughter of your friends. How long

is it likely to last? and when it is over (for it must end some day),

what is there to follow? Think of that when you are tempted by ridicule

to turn aside from doing what is right. It would be hard indeed if you

could not bear a laugh for Christ, Who could bear death for you!

Some time ago a very young boy went to school for the first time. He

was a mere child, only eight years old, and he had never seen so many

boys together before. The boys slept in large rooms, about fifteen boys

in each room, and when he came, he was put into one of these, without

knowing a single boy in the room. Now this child had been carefully and

religiously brought up, and before the little fellow left home his

mother had talked to him about the school to which he was going.

Amongst other things she had told him never to forget to say his

prayers. So, accordingly, the first night the boy got to school he knelt

down to pray. No sooner, however, was he on his knees than the whole

room was in an uproar. Some of the boys threw their slippers at him,

some laughed, some shouted, or hissed, but still he kept on his knees.

At last he rose and the tears stood in his eyes, for remember he was

only a child. The next night he knelt down again, with the same result;

boots and slippers were thrown at him, but still he persevered. For

many nights this went on, until at length one night a little fellow came

and knelt beside him, and said, "Mother told me to say my prayers too,

but I was afraid." And so for some nights the two knelt side by side,

and got an equal share of the slippers and the laughter. But at length a

change came over the room. The good example had borne fruit, and one

after another the boys in that room knelt down regularly and said their

prayers.

I have read of the greatest victories by land and by sea. I have read

accounts of the Duke of Wellington's campaigns, and of Nelson's battles;

but nowhere have I read of a greater victory, won under more trying

circumstances, than that child's victory over his companions' laughter.

And will you be beaten by him? Will you, a strong man, give in, where a

weak child of eight years old would not? Will you deny Christ, and

break your Confirmation and Baptismal vows, because you can't stand the

laughter of a few? Just look on a few years ahead--it may be only a few

hours. You will be standing before a great white throne, while on it

will be sitting your Judge. Around that throne stands the noble army of

martyrs--men who laid down their lives in torture and pain for the sake

of Christ crucified. The charges against you are read out, charges of

carelessness and neglect of God and of His Sacraments; and then the

Judge turns to you, and asks you if you have any excuse to make. And

you answer Him, "Yes." And then God turns to you again, and He looks at

the martyr band, and thinks of all that they have suffered, as He asks

you--"What?" And then I fancy I can hear you saying that you made good

resolutions, and that you intended to keep straight, but your companions

laughed at you, and you fell away. Do you think Almighty God would be

satisfied with such an excuse. I think not. Do you think that you

would deserve a place in the same kingdom as that in which the martyrs

of Jesus rest?

Reader, go to Christ when the world laughs at you, and ask Him to

strengthen you against temptation. He is well able to do so, for when

He was on earth, men "laughed Him to scorn." He suffered the rebukes of

many, for "He bare the sin of many. He was wounded for our

transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of

our peace was upon Him, and with His stripes we are healed[#]."

[#] Isaiah liii. 5.

*THE BIBLE.*

"There is a Book, who runs may read,

Which heavenly truth imparts;

And all the lore its scholars need,

Pure eyes and Christian hearts."

_Keble._

There is no book that is so frequently given as a present as the Bible.

It has been translated into every tongue, and carried to every shore.

In the king's palace, and in the lonely hut, from one end of the world

to the other, wherever Christianity is preached, the Bible is read. I

have often seen a picture of a lady reading a book intently. She is

represented as sitting near a table, with a shawl thrown loosely round

her, and a widow's cap upon her head. That lady is the Queen of

England, the greatest woman in the world; and the book she is reading is

the Bible, the Word of a greater than she. Underneath is written, "The

Secret of England's greatness." Yes, the Holy Bible, or rather the

study of the Bible, is indeed the secret of England's greatness, just as

drunkenness is the secret of England's weakness. It is not because the

Queen of England alone reads the Bible, but it is because the Bible is

read in so many English homes.

Now there are several ways of reading the Bible. It is quite possible

for a very clever man to read the Bible, and not understand it; and it

is quite possible, too, for a poor unlettered man, if he have faith, to

read, and understand. Some people read the Bible as a history, and a

very good history it is, and so they get what they want. Some, again,

read it to try to find fault with what they read. Some read it to try

and draw out words in support of their own peculiar views, and if they

can get only a few words, which they can so twist as to satisfy their

easy consciences, then they are quite content that their religion is

right, and all else wrong. But some there are, quite different from any

of these, who read the Bible, not to make out some new doctrine, or plan

of salvation, but as the Word of the Living God. To these, every word

they read is as the voice of God, and every text a guide on the way

which ends in Christ. Instead of picking put texts and founding a new

sect upon them, and so adding to the already too numerous divisions

amongst us, they diligently "search the Scriptures[#]," and by them they

make proof of their religion. Love to Christ as their Head, and

obedience to His laws, these are their two great doctrines; and these

shall inherit the promises, and "sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob

in the kingdom of heaven[#]."

[#] S. John v. 39.

[#] S. Matt viii. 11.

Yes, depend upon it, there is no book to take the place of the Bible.

It has brought comfort to the souls of many, who could find no comfort

elsewhere. It has soothed the pillow of the dying, and its holy words

are repeated over the dead to comfort the mourner. It is read and

accepted by men, who cannot agree on many other points. Its plain

homely truths are suitable for all, rich and poor alike. But it is

eminently the working man's book. "It is chiefly the inspired sayings

and doings of working men; from David the shepherd, and Amos the

herdsman, Peter and John the poor fishermen, up to One chosen out of the

people, of Whom it was said in contempt, "Is not this the carpenter?"

Reader, you will find as you go on in life many books and other things

to interest you. You will find companions gather round you, and make

much of you, and some perchance may try to turn your heart away from

Christ and His Word; but the day will come when you will grow tired of

the books, delightful though they may appear now; and the day will come

when the companions will drop off or die, and you will find that the

only companion you have left will be the old Book; the Book out of which

in early childhood you first learnt the lessons of life--lessons of a

warfare with evil, lessons of a Saviour's love. And oh! what a comfort

is the Bible in the long weary hours of sickness and of sorrow. I have

known men who have lived godless lives, and never opened their Bible, or

thought of their Saviour; I have known such, at the very first touch of

sickness, send for a person to read to them something from the Bible.

The Christ they had neglected all their lives through, was only sought

for on the bed of death, and the unopened Bible plainly bore witness how

little they cared while in health for their Saviour's words. We should

think but little of a child who was in the habit of receiving money and

clothes and frequent presents from his father, and who, when that father

wrote to him, put his letters regularly by unopened. Reader, you are

ready to blame the child; are you quite as ready to blame yourself for

neglecting to read the letters of your heavenly Father, which He has

written in His holy Word?

*THE HOLY SPIRIT.*

"Our blest Redeemer, ere He breathed

His tender last farewell,

A Guide, a Comforter bequeathed,

With us to dwell.

And every virtue we possess,

And every victory won,

And every thought of holiness,

Are His alone."

_Harriet Auber._

We say in the Belief, "I believe in the Holy Ghost." And we need to

think often of what these words mean, for many hardly stop to think who

He is, in Whom they here profess to believe. People know of God the

Father, and His love to sinners. They can speak of Jesus as the Saviour

of a lost world. But the name of the Holy Spirit rarely enters their

thoughts, and seldom perhaps occurs in their prayers. But is this

right? Is not the Holy Spirit quite as much God as Jesus Christ is? It

is His special office and pleasure to help mankind. With what loving

care He does this the lives of individual men can shew. When a sinner

is converted to Christ, a lost sheep restored to the Fold, it is the

work of God's Holy Spirit. When we feel that we want to lead better or

holier lives, when we feel grateful to Christ for all He has done for

us, when we seek to please God, or to deny self, this again is the work

of the Holy Spirit. At Holy Baptism He is present at the font; He

washes away sins in the Blood of Jesus; He gives a new heart, and a

right spirit to the repentant sinner, and leads our feet into the way of

peace. Sometimes we see a man who has been leading a life of sin

suddenly turn from his evil ways and become a consistent, God-fearing

Christian, and we wonder at the change, and say how extraordinary it is;

and we ask each other if it will last--and if it does last we wonder

still more, never thinking for a moment that it is only an instance of

the power of the Holy Spirit of God.

I have spoken of how very near the Holy Spirit is to us at Holy Baptism.

He is near us always; He hears every word we speak, and notes down every

thought of our heart; but there are special occasions on which He is

specially near us: Holy Baptism is one of them, Confirmation is another.

He is present when a young man or young woman kneels before the Bishop

to be confirmed. He loves to hear and answer the prayer, "Defend, O

Lord, this Thy child, with Thy heavenly grace, that he may continue

Thine for ever, and daily increase in Thy Holy Spirit more and more,

until he come unto Thine everlasting kingdom." Yes, young man, He was

with you at your Confirmation, and heard and noted down the promises

made by you then--promises to give up "the devil and all his works, the

carnal desires of the flesh," not to "follow or be led by them;"

promises to "keep God's holy will and commandments, and walk in the same

all the days" of your life. And though you may have forgotten that you

made those promises, He has not. And He, too, promised something in

return. He promised that God's "Fatherly Hand should ever be over you,"

and that He Himself would ever be in you, as you travelled onward on the

road to heaven. In Holy Matrimony, again, the same Holy Spirit is ever

near. He joins the man and woman in an unseen union, as a great and

good poet has it--

"A high mysterious union

Which nought on earth may break."

And when at Ordination the white-robed priests and deacons of our Church

pass up to kneel before the Bishop, the Holy Ghost is there. And,

lastly, at the bedside of the dying Christian, while weeping friends

stand round, the Holy Ghost is there. He is above all things _the

Comforter_, and He loves to comfort those that mourn. With His gracious

influence He cheers the dying spirit, pointing away from earthly things

and earthly dwellings to a "Paradise of God," where "there is no more

death, neither sorrow, nor crying," and where "the former things," that

is the things of earth, "are passed away, and all things have become

new."

*GOD'S MINISTERS.*

"Lord, pour Thy Spirit from on high,

And Thine ordained servants bless;

Graces and gifts to each supply,

And clothe Thy Priests with righteousness.

So, when their work is finished here

They may in hope their charge resign,

So, when their Master shall appear

They may with crowns of glory shine."

_James Montgomery._

What is a Minister? The word "_Minister_" means "_a Servant_"--and the

ministers of God are God's servants. Now, of course every Christian man

and woman is a servant of God. But ministers are men who are specially

set apart, by His Holy Spirit, for their high and holy work.

Just as in the days of the Apostles, the Holy Spirit told the Church to

separate Barnabas and Saul for the work of the ministry, so now the

principal question in the Ordination Service is that of the Bishop, who

asks the candidate--"Do you trust that you are _inwardly moved by the

Holy Ghost_, to take upon you this office?" And that is only another

way of asking--"Do you think you have really received a call from the

Holy Spirit?"

There is no work on earth so noble as the minister's work--the work of

taking care of souls. Just as a doctor cures the body, by giving proper

medicine to the patient at the right moment, so it is the duty and

privilege of the Christian minister to give the right medicine to the

soul.

Now if you will take your Prayer Book, and turn to the Service for the

Ordering of Priests, you will find that the first words spoken by the

Bishop to the Archdeacon, who presents the candidates, are these, "Take

heed that the persons, whom ye present unto us, be apt and meet" (that

is to say, well fitted) "for their learning and godly conversation to

exercise their ministry." So you see that two things are required of

those who come up for ordination,--1. that they should be

well-instructed; 2. that they should be godly men.

Of the first of these it might be and has been objected--"What is the

use of having a learned clergy, so long as they have the love of God in

their hearts?" To this objection, I would simply answer, that while

doubtless it is far more important to have a godly than a learned

Ministry; still the Bible has given us two special instances of great

learning among the servants of God. In the Old Testament, "Moses was

learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and was mighty in words and

in deeds[#]." While in the New Testament S. Paul was "brought up at the

feet of Gamaliel[#]," a doctor of the Law. And surely I need not

attempt to prove from Scripture that God's ministers must be godly men.

Experience and common sense alike teach us that unless they are godly,

their learning can profit them but little. For if God's ministers are to

do God's work, the work of doing good to others, it is most important

that they should set a good example in their daily life. A man may

preach the very best of sermons; he may draw together immense

congregations; his services may be reverent, beautiful, impressive; but

unless his daily life aims at strict accordance with his Sunday

teaching, that man's religion is vain.

[#] Acts vii. 22.

[#] Acts xxii. 3.

And now, having spoken on the duty of God's ministers, let me say a few

words as to the duty of the flock towards their clergyman. First to

respect and reverence him as "the Servant of the living God[#]." We do

not indeed respect the man himself more than he deserves, but we respect

God's minister, on account of his office, and for the reverence we feel

for the Master at whose hands he holds it. Secondly, if we really

respect the office, we shall readily obey the advice God's minister

gives; we shall gladly and frequently go to church, and frequent the

Holy Communion--we shall listen with care to his sermons, and act upon

the advice contained in them; and thus we shall find ourselves daily

growing more and more fit for joining the Church in Heaven. Thirdly, we

shall do all in our power to help him in his work. Everybody can do

something. Some no doubt can do more than others, but all can do a

little. If you hear things said of him, which you know to be untrue,

say so. When God's minister stops to speak to you, shew that you are

glad of the opportunity of speaking to him; for if we will, we can

always get some good from the words of a good man. And then if you get

into any trouble or difficulty, go and ask his advice. There can be no

doubt as to this being the right and proper course. God's minister has

been set over your parish, as a person found "meet for his _learning_

and godly conversation" to exercise his ministry. In some parishes the

Vicar is the only person of education, and by going to him for advice in

a difficulty, instead of to the publican or the nearest neighbour, a

great deal of trouble might be saved.

[#] Dan. vi. 20.

But perhaps you will ask, "How is it that we see some of the clergy

leading evil, or even immoral lives?" Reader, I understand your

difficulty; it is one I have often felt myself. But just ask yourself

this question. Is there any profession on earth, of which it can be

said, that _every single member_ is living up to what he professes? I

do not for one moment defend immorality or evil-living among the clergy.

It is terrible indeed to think that they to whom we might most

reasonably look for example should be setting a bad example, and

poisoning instead of curing the souls that Jesus died to redeem. But

these men are few and far between. And thank God, there is another side

to the picture. The greater number of the clergy of the Church of

England, are men leading high, noble Christian lives; many of them men

who have given up wealth, comfort, and a happy home, to serve Christ and

His poor in our crowded cities, or in our country villages; men who have

learnt Christ as "the truth is in Jesus[#]," and whose one desire is to

give that precious truth to others also.

[#] Eph. iv. 21.

As to the others, it is not for us to pronounce their doom; we may

safely leave them in the hands of that God Who has said, "Woe be to the

shepherds that do feed themselves! Should not the shepherds feed the

flocks[#]?"

[#] Ezekiel xxxiv. 2.

And I am quite certain that if we do not help God's ministers in this

work, God will require a reason from us for this. How many of us I

wonder ever pray for our ministers, and yet the prayers of the people

are one of the greatest helps the ministers of God can have. Then again

we can help him in his choir, and in many other ways besides. The young

men of a parish especially can help the parson. He looks to them as

having been trained in his schools (baptized it may be by him), to fill

up the gaps in his church, and above all to set a good, manly, Christian

example when they are out of his sight.

There are a great many people, especially in country villages, who are

always speaking against God's ministers, and do all they can to hinder

their work. But the day of sickness comes, and they are laid by for a

time, and money and victuals get scarce, the very first place they send

to is the Vicarage, and the man from whom they ask help is the minister

they have abused. And very rarely is this help refused. For though it

is often given with a heart, heavy at the thought of the little thanks

he is likely to get, and the little good it is likely to do his Master's

cause, it is yet given ungrudgingly, for he remembers his Lord's words,

"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren,

ye have done it unto Me[#]."

[#] S. Matt. xxv. 40.

Oh! then think kindly of God's minister whom He has set over your

parish. He thinks of you and of your wants, and of your troubles, more

often than you suppose. He is more frequently at the Throne of Grace,

asking God to bless His people, than you may think; and in that day when

the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed, it will be known how many

souls owe salvation to the prayers, frequent and earnest, of the

ministers of God, and how many jewels by their means will shine for ever

in the Master's crown.

*PRAYER.*

"Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,

Uttered or unexpressed,

The motion of a hidden fire

That kindles in the breast."

_Montgomery._

What is prayer? Prayer is the uplifting of the soul of man to heaven,

in silent communion with its God. Prayer is the telling out of our

wants, of our weaknesses, our temptations, and failings to our Father in

heaven. It has been known ere now to bring down marvellous and

unexpected answers to the children of men. Homes have been saved from

destruction; armies delivered from slaughter; sinners converted to

Christ--by the power of prayer. As John Keble has taught us, in his

beautiful morning hymn--

"New mercies each returning day,

Hover around us while we pray;

New perils past, new sins forgiven,

New thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven."

You remember the answers to prayer recorded in the Bible. Elijah prayed

that it might not rain; and God withheld the showers. On another

occasion, he prayed that fire might come down on his sacrifice, and fire

came down. Hezekiah prayed for an increase of days; and we are told

that "there was added unto his life fifteen years." In the New

Testament again, our blessed Lord, we are told, spent whole nights in

prayer to God. In the history of the Early Church too, there are many

instances of answers to prayer. There is the beautiful story of St.

Augustine, who after leading a wicked and immoral life, was brought to

Christ through the prayers of his mother. But why quote more? You and

I, reader, I trust know and value this power of prayer. To be able, in

the midst of the most pressing business, or the hardest toil, to retire

into the secret chamber of our heart, as it were, and there tell to God

our most urgent needs in prayer is one of the greatest comforts of our

life.

And God often answers prayer in a way we little expect; so little,

indeed, that we are apt hardly to realize it as an answer at all. A few

years ago, there was an awful storm on the east coast of England, and a

ship was seen to be in peril about a mile from the shore. The life-boat

was launched, but owing to some delay, it seemed likely to be of but

little use. As the boat was nearing a dangerous spot, one of the men

cried, "Boys, shall we turn back, it is almost certain death to go on?

The ship seems to have gone down, and, no doubt, all hands have

perished." But one of his mates answered, "As I ran along the cliff, I

saw behind a hedge two ladies praying. I am a wild chap, yet I do

believe God hears prayer; we shall save some lives." Then on went the

life-boat, with her gallant crew, ploughing her way through the

dangerous breakers. The ship had gone down when the boat reached the

spot, and no sign could be seen of her crew. The life-boat drifted four

miles. In those four miles the sailors picked up first one poor fellow,

then another, until eight lives had been saved. The shipwrecked sailors

often told the tale afterwards, how that in answer to those ladies'

prayer, the life-boat held on its way, and the little crew were saved.

Yes, and I could tell you of more wonderful answers to prayer than that,

but my object is not to tell you interesting stories, but to strive to

leave a lasting impression, by God's grace, upon the heart. I have told

you how God answers prayer, in a way which, though kind and loving, was

quite unexpected. Sometimes God's answers may not seem to us kind and

loving, but may at first appear to be harsh. We find in the end,

however, that He knows best what is good for us. Oh! it is impossible to

pass through life without feeling the power of prayer. The life of

every separate person must testify to its power; the death of every

Christian is an exhibition of it. "Pray without ceasing," then.

Whenever you feel inclined to speak an _idle word_, say a few words to

God instead. You can speak quite easily to your father on earth, why

not speak as easily to your Father in Heaven? Nothing is too small, or

too common, to tell Him about. The little daily troubles; the

differences between masters and men; the question of your wages; the

home troubles, the field troubles; the wet season, or the summer heat;

the insects which destroy your garden, or the sins which are destroying

your soul--these and such as these are not too small, or too simple to

take up the attention of our Father in Heaven, "Who feedeth the young

ravens that cry unto Him," and without Whose knowledge not even a

sparrow falls to the ground, and dies.

*ON BEING ALONE.*

"Call it not solitude to be alone,

Call it not solitude, for God is nigh:

And holy angels from His heavenly throne

Breathe round us love, and comfort from on high.

Then go we forth to work and struggle on,

Onwards our steps, and upwards still our hearts;

Let all men see the strength, the power supreme,

One precious hour of solitude imparts.

Oh! never, never let us turn away

From one such blessed hour that God has given,

One moment when we can in silence pray

And raise our hearts unto our home in heaven."

_Anon._

There are but few people, I suppose, who care to be alone. Man, you

will say, was made for society; he was made to be of use to others, and

not to dwell alone. True, it is not good for man to be always alone;

and yet there are times when it is well to withdraw ourselves from the

busy world, and to go into some solitary place, and be alone. It is a

want that we all feel more or less. David felt it, "Oh that I had wings

like a dove," he cried, "for then would I flee away and be at rest[#]."

The Master felt it, for He continued whole nights alone in prayer to

God. And God's saints in every age have felt it. In this busy life of

ours we must often feel rest and solitude acceptable. How glad we are,

for instance, when the evening comes, and we know that the day's toil is

over, and that we can be alone. And when Saturday night comes we are

more glad still, for we know that it means not merely a night's rest,

but a day's rest too. Now I want you to think of being alone in three

separate and distinct senses, 1. Solitude. 2. Loneliness. 3. Isolation.

And first, solitude. A recent writer, speaking of our blessed Lord's

frequent nights spent alone on the Mount of Olives, says,--"There is

something affecting beyond measure in the thought of these lonely hours;

the absolute stillness and silence, broken by no sounds of human life,

but only by the hooting of the night-jar, or the howl of the jackal; the

stars of an eastern heaven raining their large lustre out of the depth;

the figure of the Man of Sorrows kneeling upon the dewy grass, and

gaining strength for His labours from the purer air, the more open

heaven, of that intense and silent communing with His Father and His

God."

[#] Ps. lv. 6.

Yes, there is something wonderfully solemn and grand in that kind of

solitude, the solitude of prayer. The intense silence of the world

sleeping below Him, the cold night air upon His brow, the kneeling

figure and earnest words; these all we can picture to ourselves, and say

such _solitude_ is good!

Then, again, there is loneliness. Who has not felt lonely? It may have

been that as we stood round an open grave and listened to the beautiful

words spoken by our Church over the departed, we first learnt what

loneliness meant. I have been told that nowhere is the sense of

loneliness stronger than on hearing the service for the Burial of the

Dead at sea. I have been told that there comes over the spirit an

untold sense of loneliness when one of a vessel's crew is committed to

the deep, far from land, in the midst of the ocean, "looking for the

resurrection of the body, when the sea shall give up her dead;" and the

living comrades stand around the corpse and see the cold waves close

over their mate's remains. But solitude is no mere feeling of the mind,

it is a stern reality. It comes as a necessary part in the life of all

men, and so it must be met.

Lastly, there is isolation. And this to men is the hardest trial of

all. To be obliged to mix with people with whom we have nothing in

common, to go about and live with those who have no fear of God before

their eyes, to work with the blasphemer, to toil for the vicious, to mix

with the depraved; oh! sit needs a Christian spirit indeed to bear up

under such a trial. But Christ knew well what it was to do this. He was

as much alone in the crowded street as ever He was on the cold hillside.

He was as truly alone when He sat at meat in the Pharisee's house as He

was while walking on the sea of Gennesaret. Oh yes, isolation is the

portion of all true Christians as it was of the Master. We can talk to

men of the world, we can mix with men of the world, and we can do good

to men of the world, and yet all the while we are alone. Oh! don't you

know what it is to long to ask advice, and yet have none of whom to ask

it? Don't you know how easy it is to make hundreds of acquaintances, but

how very hard it is to have one true friend? And this is what Jesus

felt, and felt for us. He went through it all, all the solitude, all

the loneliness, all the bitter isolation for you and for me, that when

the time came that we should be alone, we might remember His loneliness

and take courage. Reader, the day will come when you too will have to

be alone. You may surround yourself with friends now, you may take

pleasure in counting the number of those who are proud to know you; but,

believe me, it won't be so always. Alone you will have to pass through

the dark valley of the shadow of death, alone you will have to stand

before the judgment-seat of Christ. Alone you will have to give "that

strict and solemn account" of the way in which you have used your time,

your influence, and your power on earth. But there is One, One who

knows what loneliness is, Who has promised to be with you, if you ask

Him; promised to take care of you over the dark valley, for the darkness

is no darkness with Him, and He has passed over that way before. Go

then to Jesus, the lonely Man of sorrows. Make a friend of Him, and

tell Him that you want His help in your solitude, His guidance in your

loneliness, His presence in your isolation; ask Him to come to you as He

came of old to His toiling, weary, lonely disciples on the Galilean sea;

ask Him to come and guide your ship into quiet harbours, and safe

resting-places, and to bring you into a better country, even an

heavenly, where none are sad, or sick, or lonely, for all are filled

with the Presence of God.

*ON SETTING A GOOD EXAMPLE.*

"Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee

Thou no ray of light and joy canst throw,

If no silken cord of love hath bound thee

To some little world through weal and woe.

If no eyes thy tender love can brighten,

No fond voices answer to thine own,

If no brother's sorrow thou canst lighten

By daily sympathy and gentle tone.

Daily struggling, though enclosed and lonely,

Every day a rich reward will give;

Thou wilt find, by hearty striving only

And truly loving, thou canst truly live."

_Harriet Winslow._

There is no subject of those on which I have written as yet in this

book, or of those on which I shall write, that I believe to be of

greater importance than that of setting a good example to others.

Amongst other things our influence on one another has been compared to

the action of the sea. And indeed the comparison is a good one. The

sea is a mighty power, stronger perhaps than any other natural force.

It is constantly and silently at work. We stand on a rock in the midst

of the ocean; a rock that looks so firm, and seems so hard that it

blunts the sharpest tools to work it. And yet, quite silently, the

restless sea is eating into its very heart with its ceaseless beatings.

And so is it with influence, or example. Silently, but none the less

surely, do we make our influence felt upon each other. The influence

may be bad or good; it may be a bad or good example we are setting, or a

bad or good word that we speak, still there are always plenty of people

ready to take it up and copy it. Probably for every person we can see

to be influenced by our example, there are at least ten of whom we know

nothing. Reader, these are solemn thoughts. The idle word you spoke

yesterday has gone beyond recall; but God heard it and noted both it and

its effect upon those who stood by. And you may one day find that that

word has caused a world of sorrow to spring up around it. Yes, we

cannot unspeak a word carelessly spoken, or unthink one evil thought.

How often we hear it said, "Alas! I possess no influence, what can I

do?" Now it is true that many have no wealth, no beauty, no rank, no

intellect, no learning; but there never has been a heart created since

the world began, that has not received and exerted the precious, though

much-abused gift of influence. How is this? Just because every heart

has the power of loving! There is a story told of Cecil's little

daughter, who was asked by her father how it was that everybody loved

her so much. "I think, dear father," replied the child, "it must be

because I love everybody." Here, then, is a work we all can do, and we

all have to do. "Love is power." The sunshine has to do its work; it

penetrates the darkest places, the dirtiest streets, the most dismal

prisons; it brings light and heat to the chilled and cold; it gives

colour to the flower, and ripeness to the fruit. And so it is with good

influence. The influence of one loving heart may do a world of good.

It may not be a powerful heart; it need not be the heart of a learned

man; still less need it be the heart of a rich one; so long as it is a

loving heart it will go about cheering and lighting up, warming and

colouring and ripening all things like the sun.

Many good people seem to think it a duty to keep their hearts locked up

tight from their fellow men. Have you ever thought seriously of the sin

of doing this? Have you ever thought that such a course makes the

religion of your gentle, kindly, warm-hearted Master appear in a cold

and disagreeable form? Have you ever thought that as the Lord Jesus

looks upon the cup of cold water bestowed on a neighbour as given to

Him, so He will look upon the wounded feeling, the repulsed confidence,

the bruised spirit, you have occasioned as given to Him too? Oh! it is

a sad thing to fold up in a napkin the talent of _manner_; to lose, as

it were, the key of the door which opens the hearts of men.

But if you are using your influence, don't be afraid to use it for

Christ; to be an out-and-out Christian! Those are the sort He always

blesses in the end, and their works follow them long after they have

passed onward to their reward.

Not long ago, in a Sussex village, there lived a young man, a

farm-labourer. He had often wished to stay in church for Holy

Communion, which he knew well would help him, beyond all else, in the

good and earnest life he was trying to lead. Still the fear of his

companions' laughter held him back. One Sunday morning, however, after

praying much for God's help to aid him to do what was right, he knelt

on, when the others had left the church, and went up to receive the Holy

Communion. On coming out of church his friends began to laugh at him

for staying, but he said nothing, and walked quietly home. Sunday after

Sunday he persevered, though it was hard work, and he was often tempted

to give way. Months passed, and one Sunday another boy came and knelt

down beside him, instead of leaving church, and he too received the Holy

Communion. A few Sundays after they were joined by another, and after

that more and more of the young men of that parish began to follow their

example. Nor did the good resulting from this end there. These young

men are now banded together in that parish, working together for the

same great Master Christ, each in his own occupation, and leading others

to the knowledge of the Saviour. And all this came from the courage of

that one brave soldier of Christ, who used his influence in his

Captain's cause. Reader, will not you go and do likewise?

Hitherto I have spoken only of the good influence we may exercise upon

our companions and on strangers. What shall I say of the influence we

may exercise on our home? Ere this, one Christian man has been known to

change the whole manner of life of a household. St. Paul tells us in

his Epistle to Timothy to "shew piety at home;" and after all it is _in

our own homes_ that we must bear witness for Jesus Christ. Speak up for

Christ when occasion demands it, above all live a Christian life, and

then the lives of those around you will be brought more under the

influence of religion. But to young men particularly is the call to

influence others loudest and clearest, and to set a good example their

plain duty--

"Young men be strong for Jesus,

To toil for Him is gain--

And Jesus wrought for Joseph

With chisel, saw, and plane."

*HELPING OTHERS.*

"The cowslip and the spreading vine,

The daisy in the grass,

The snow-drop and the eglantine,

Preach sermons as we pass.

The ant within its cavern deep

Would bid us labour too,

And writes upon its tiny heap--

'There's work enough to do.'

To have a heart for those who weep,

The sottish drunkard win;

To rescue all the children deep

In ignorance and sin;

To help the poor, the hungry feed;

To give him coat and shoe;

To see that all can write and read--

Is 'work enough to do.'"

_John Burbidge._

Of all the different kinds of work that God has given us to do here on

earth, there is none more important, none more satisfactory, than this

work of helping others. Ever since Jesus Christ stood upon the shore of

the sea of Galilee, watching two fishermen mending their nets; ever

since He spoke to those two, saying, "Follow Me, and I will make you

fishers of men[#]," the command has been binding upon all Christians. To

go out upon the grand field of philanthropy, of love of men, is the

noblest occupation that our poor life can have. To spend and be spent

in the service of our fellow-men is a work that is so specially blest by

Christ, that I hardly think that a chapter on "helping others" will be

in any sense out of place here.

[#] S. Matt. iv. 19.

But perhaps you will say, "How can I, I who am so poor, help others?"

Reader, you have only to look for such work, and God will give it you.

It may be you can help others by giving them your time. For instance,

if you have an aged or infirm neighbour, too feeble to dig his own

garden, it would no doubt be a great help to him if you were to go and

offer to do it for him. Some time ago, in a country village, there was

a young man, who wished to try and help others in some practical way,

for the Master's sake. For a long time he could not find anything to

do; but at last one of his neighbours, an old man, became very ill, and

bedridden. He was very poor, and his old wife almost too infirm to

attend to him properly. For the last two years this young fellow has

gone in in the morning, before going to his work, and done all he could

for him in the house; and every night on returning home, he goes again,

settles him for the night, and reads the Bible to him before leaving.

One day, when he was praised for doing this, he said, quite simply, "I

do like to do it, it seems like helping Christ: whenever I go there, I

say to myself, 'I was sick, and ye visited _Me_.'"

That young man understands the true meaning of the words "Inasmuch as ye

have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it

unto Me[#]."

[#] S. Matt. xxv. 40.

Reader, there may be no sick neighbour for you to help, but there is no

doubt you can find work to do if you will only try. Oh! don't stand

idle all the blessed hours of youth, that God has given you to work for

others. Stand up like men, ready to go and fight for Jesus, the Great

Captain of the Lord's host. Ask God to give you strength and victory,

and to fulfil the promise He once gave to His chosen people, by the

mouth of the prophet Isaiah, "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew

their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall

run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint[#]."

[#] Isaiah xl. 31.

"Come labour on!

Who dares stand idle on the harvest plain,

While all around him waves the golden grain?

And to each servant does the Master say,

'Go, work to-day.'

Come labour on!

The toil is pleasant, the reward is sure,

Blessed are those who to the end endure;

How full their joy, how deep their rest shall be,

Oh! Lord, with Thee."

Yes, the end of helping others lies in the Master's kingdom. The reward

of serving Christ in the person of His poor, awaits you in the many

mansions. You may meet with coldness, and hard words, from those you

would seek to help; but generally, you will find them only too glad of

it. And what matters it what men say and think of your work, if the

Lord approves of it? What will it matter whether your friends did not

help you, if Christ helps you here, and gives you your reward in heaven?

It is especially a young man's calling to help others. He need not give

up the least bit of his ordinary daily work or daily pleasure to do so.

All he needs is a ready will to undertake the work as soon as Christ

gives it him to do.

I cannot close this chapter better than by quoting some remarks, made

some years ago by one of the London clergy. Preaching to young men upon

the words, "Young man, I say unto thee arise!" the preacher said--"We

need young men, fired with the thought that they are called by Christ to

be the saviours of society from the sins that are wasting it, to render

to their country and to humanity the noblest service, by fighting with

voice and hand against those deadly foes that menace our very life; and

will, if they are allowed to run riot, certainly drag us down to hell.

Young men, rise up to stand against it and destroy it. Lift up against

it the Standard of the Cross. Be known as Christ's soldiers, banded and

pledged to overthrow it. Let your conversation be pure from all taint

of uncleanness; and never let the glass rob you of your power to stand

up for Christ against sensual sin. Rebuke and frown down the young

man's talk, and the habit of life it engenders; you know what I mean.

Say to those who love it, it is just this that is destroying us as a

people. Unless our young men rise up together, as one man, and make

drunkenness and harlotry shameful and hateful, I see no hope for our

country, but a hope of growing decay."

Those are wise words, carefully and thoughtfully spoken. God grant,

reader, that you and I may lay them seriously to heart.

*OUR COMPANIONS.*

"A friend I had, long, long ago,

And one I learnt to prize,

He taught a truth that all should know--

In work true honour lies.

A frank and cheerful face had he,

And a heart as light as heart could be.

* * * * *

He has found his rest in Heaven above,

But has left a golden fame;

For the neighbours tell his deeds of love,

And the children bless his name;

And comrades too for many a day

Shall roughly wipe their tears away."

_John Burbidge._

There are, perhaps, few things so important to a young man as to make a

right choice of companions. How much depends on this. How much of our

present and future happiness; nay, more, how much of our eternal welfare

depends upon those with whom we mix on earth. Very many a young man has

begun life with the best intentions and the holiest desires; and all

these have been dashed to the ground by his having made an unwise choice

in selecting his companions.

Now there are several things to be thought of in making this choice.

And I shall try to put a few of these before you. First, it is most

important that your companions should be God-fearing men. I don't think

any friendship can be really happy, or even lasting, unless this is the

case. For remember that there are friendships which do not end with

life; that true friendship, blessed by Almighty God, is only begun here

below, and is carried on in that distant spirit-land beyond the grave.

Secondly, don't think that because your companions should be godly men,

they must needs be gloomy or dull. A man may be godly, and at the same

time quite able to laugh with others, and make as good jokes as they;

but his laughter will never be turned against religion, nor his jokes

made at the expense of the people of God. A man who is a drunkard, for

instance, will never be a good or even pleasant companion for you. His

conversation in his sober moments is rarely interesting, and when he is

in liquor he is worse than a beast. And as to his example, what can I

say of that? It will be an example which God grant, reader, you may

never follow; but it is an example which it is better you should not

even see. In a word, as a recent writer has put it, my advice to you

is, "Make friends with sober men, who can talk and laugh without

incessant liquor."

Now it may be you think you are quite strong enough to resist

temptation. It may be you think that as you pass through this world

yours will be a life of temptation, and you feel that if you can't

resist it now, you never will. It was said of Sophronius, a wise

teacher in Ancient Greece, that one day when his daughter Eulalia came

to ask permission to visit a worldly friend, Lucinda, Sophronius forbade

her. And when Eulalia, trusting in her own power to overcome the

temptations of her evil companion, replied, "Dear father, you must think

me childish if you imagine I should be exposed to danger by going."

Sophronius took, in silence, a dead coal from the hearth, and gave it to

his daughter. "It will not burn you, my child: take it," said he.

Eulalia did so, and behold! her hand was blackened, and, as it chanced,

her white dress too. "We cannot be too careful in handling coals," said

Eulalia in vexation. "Yes, truly!" replied her father; "You see, my

child, the coals, even if they do not burn, blacken."

And so, too, is it with companions. The coals may not burn, but only

blacken; and companions may not leave any lasting impression for evil on

the heart. Their example may not even appear to the conscience as being

black and evil, but they blacken the character, at any rate for the

time, none the less, if not in the sight of men, undoubtedly in the

sight of God.

And there is one point more. Do remember, that even the worst of us,

the most degraded, are being constantly watched by people above us in

society. And very often they don't care to have anything to do with us,

_because of our companions_. I once heard a foreman, who employed a

great number of hands on a certain work, say of a young man, whose name

had been recommended for employment, "He keeps such bad company." And

though I knew the young man in question well, and knew that whatever his

companions might be, he himself was pure and good, still it was of no

use my speaking to the foreman, because he _was_ keeping bad company.

Depend upon it, reader, there is truth in words written down in our

Father's Book, "Godliness is profitable unto all things, baring _promise

of the life that now is_, and of that which is to come[#]."

[#] Tim. iv. 8.

*THE BOOKS WE READ.*

"There is a Book, who runs may read,

Which heavenly truth imparts,

And all the lore its scholars need

Pure eyes and Christian hearts.

The works of God, above, below,

Within us and around,

Are pages in that Book to show

How God Himself is found."

_John Keble._

There are few things which have so mighty a power for good or evil, on

the lives of most of us, as the books we read. Nor is it easy for us to

read nothing but what is profitable and good. From the Bible, of course,

we can always get wholesome reading, and always gain fresh stores of

knowledge; but we cannot always be reading the Bible. And there are in

these days many books and papers which a young man may come across,

which can hardly fail to do him harm; books with perfectly innocent

titles, and apparently quite harmless, and yet the reading they contain

is as poison to the human soul. But there are plenty of good books too,

thank God; and almost every village has its library, and every cottage

home its books.

But even if you are ever so careful as to what you read, it is almost

certain the devil will put something into your hands that you should not

read. He does so to us all. Rich and poor, young and old, all alike

read a good deal that they should not--for rich people have their

temptations too, and very hard they are tried sometimes. Well, the only

safeguard I know of is, whenever you read anything you know to be bad

shut up the book at once, and read no further. And whenever you read

anything that you are doubtful about, take down your Bible and ask God

to shew you, out of His Word, whether what you have been reading is

right or wrong. You know, I daresay, that all along a part of the south

coast of England there are a number of round towers, built at certain

distances from each other. And the object of these towers was this.

Many years ago we expected a foreign foe to land on our shores, and we

built these watch-towers to guard against surprise. And it is just the

same with the Bible. God has said, I won't prevent the devil trying to

persuade you to read these bad books, and I won't prevent your reading

them; but I give you the Bible, which, if you compare its words with the

words of the books you read, they will, like the men in the

watch-towers, give you warning of the enemy's approach. Reader, if you

require plainer words than those written in God's Bible, I fear you will

never read them on earth, and you certainly will never read them in

heaven. How often we hear men say, "I'm no scholar." And this is given

as an excuse for not coming to church, and for not reading the Bible,

and a lot of other things too. But there's many a man who will tell you

he's no scholar, if you ask him to read the Bible; but if you give him a

newspaper and tell him there's an account of a horrible murder in it,

he'll take that gladly, and he won't tell you he's no scholar then!

He'll very soon find that either his wife or his children can read to

him about the murder of a fellow creature, but he won't take the trouble

to ask them to read to him about the death of God's only Son.

Oh, reader, be honest with God. He is honest, and means what He says.

Man may not see through your excuses. He may go away and pity you for

your want of learning, and you may be sitting at home thinking how

cleverly you have deceived him. But all the while, though you little

think it, God is holding up your character, and He sees through you, and

every bit of what He sees, is written down in His great book to be

brought up against you at the last day. Some people give as an excuse

for reading bad and immoral books, that they can understand them. They

say they _can't understand_ the Bible. No doubt that is true. God says

the carnal man--that is the man who loves this world and things of the

flesh--cannot understand spiritual things; and the Bible is a spiritual

book. How can the unwashed heart understand the Bible? Well, you say

if it is a sealed book, how am I to understand it? The word of God, I

answer, may be and is darkened to the worldly man, but the way of

salvation is written so plainly, that a little child of six years old

can read it, if he will. And oh! if you come across any impure or

sinful book, do be careful what you do with it. Don't let it lie about.

A little child may take it up and read it, and it may be, through your

carelessness, its first step on the road to ruin. Don't say, that's not

my look out! Reader, it is your look out; and God will lay it to your

charge. If you stop under a hayrick to light your pipe, and you

carelessly throw the lighted match away among the hay, so that the rick

catches fire, isn't that your fault? You didn't mean, I daresay, to set

fire to the rick; you didn't leave home, and go to that particular place

in order to set that rick on fire, but I think that any magistrate in

the kingdom would make you suffer for your carelessness. And so it is

with God. He looks at results as well as at intentions. And if you

carelessly leave a bad book about, and it happens to do harm, the

punishment of that harm, be it little or be it much, will rest upon your

soul in the life to come.

*TRUE MANLINESS.*

"There are other battles to fight, my boy,

Than the battle of which you speak;

There are battles which none can win, my boy,

But the lowly in heart and meek;

There are battles in which earth's mightiest fail,

And the strong ones are the weak.

There's a battle, my boy, with the world's rude laugh

At the lessons our Saviour taught,

And many a battle with self, before

We can do the things we ought;

A battle which, not for the praise of men,

Is in secret and silence fought.

If in the battle of life, my boy,

Thou would'st stand on thy Captain's side,

With the white-robed hosts that follow the Lamb,

The called, and chosen, and tried,

Thou must take up thy cross, denying thyself,

And follow the Crucified."

_From_ "_The Child's Book of Ballads._"

There is nothing a young man desires more than to be thought manly. At

school he is constantly told to be manly. And indeed true manliness is

a grand thing. How often we hear our young men say that they want to be

more independent. You may have said so yourself, reader; what harm if

you have? Isn't it a fine thing, and a noble thing, and a right thing

to be independent? Certainly it is; and I hope before the end of this

chapter to have shewn you the difference between true and false

independence, and true and false manliness.

Now let us deal with manliness first. What is it to be manly? To be

manly means to be man-like--like a man. And He Who was our great

pattern man, the only perfect pattern that ever lived, has shewn us in

His own life what true manliness means. He knew well how fond young men

in all ages would be of trying to be manly, and so He gave them His

advice how to be so. Listen to it. He said, "Except ye be converted,

and become _as little children_, ye shall in nowise enter into the

kingdom of Heaven." As little children! Young man, do you hear that?

you must become as submissive, as obedient, as trustful and believing as

a little child, if you would be manly.

And one of the greatest marks of true manliness is respect paid to

women. A true man is ever courteous, and careful of his words and acts

in the presence of a woman. He indulges in no thoughts of impurity or

lust; but if they arise he drives them out. Like Joseph, when he is

tempted to sin against his master's law of purity, he says to himself,

"How can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" I know no

surer test of manliness than that. To be careful of woman's virtue, and

to be mindful of God's commands. To help the weak and those who cannot

help themselves, to think for those who will not think for themselves,

is manliness indeed; and he who will do these things in the midst of a

mocking crowd, shews that he is truly manly.

And next, let me say a word about independence. So many young men

nowadays seem to think that independence consists in being rude to every

one they meet. But if this is your idea of independence you may be sure

you are on the wrong road, and the sooner you get right the better.

Real independence is, as I said, a fine and noble thing. An independent

man can walk through the world with his head up, and give every one a

civil answer, for he is as good as they. Oh! learn, reader, to be more

truly independent. Learn to withdraw your dependence from man, and put

it all on God. It is quite possible to be too dependent on man; it is

quite impossible to be too dependent on God. Whether you wish it or

not, you must depend on Him. He sends you life and health, food and

raiment, all that you have, and all that you hope for. If you have

saved enough money you can take a cottage, and live comfortably and

independently in your old age; but if you have saved ever so much money,

you can never lose your dependence on God.

Lastly, let me in all earnestness say a kindly word to young men. You

are just beginning life; everything is before you; and perhaps you feel,

as indeed you ought to feel, that as you grow in years you wish to grow

in true manliness and independence. Very well; take a kindly word of

advice from a stranger; it is this, always be civil to everybody. A

little civility goes a long way, farther often than you think. Be civil

to your superiors, and they will think the more highly of you for it.

Be civil to your equals, and they will respect you for it. Be civil to

your inferiors, and they will look up to you for it. It costs very

little to give a civil answer, and we often have reason afterwards to

regret an uncivil word, uncivilly spoken. I do believe that this is a

most important thing in going through life. We so constantly hear whole

masses of men classed together and unfairly judged because of the

conduct of one of their number who may chance to have been met. I have

so often heard railway porters, for instance, described as a most civil

class, and no doubt they find their civility paying. Above all, reader,

to look at it from a higher ground, civility is pleasing to God. Of

Christ it was said, "When He was reviled, He reviled not again[#];" and

if He set us this example of civility it was to shew us that we can be

truly manly, and truly independent, and at the same time truly civil,

and truly Christian in heart.

[#] 1 Pet. ii. 23.

*HONESTY.*

"'Tis but a flash that spans the sky,

A few short hours of joy to wreathe:

Reader! this moment you and I

Might cease to breathe!

Then, live more worthy of a soul

Implanted by a Hand Divine!

Press onward to a richer goal!

While yet there's time!

He who can so secure his fame,

Has nobly filled his narrow span,

And future times shall write his name,

_An honest man!_"

_John Burbidge._

"Honesty is the best policy" is a saying we frequently hear. And we may

have said, "Ah! that's all very well for thieves and such like, but it

doesn't apply to me." Reader, you may be honest, strictly honest in the

sight of man, but are you strictly honest in the sight of God? You may

never have taken so much as a pin that did not rightly belong to you,

but are you quite certain that you have never taken of the things of

God?

Now let us just consider this for a few moments. To-day, we will say, is

Sunday, God's holy day! To-day, of all days in the week, God has chosen

to be set apart for His worship. He has given you time to be so

employed. He has given you an open church to go to. He has given you

health and power to go, and yet perhaps you reject all, and never go at

all. Don't you see that you have taken of things of God, that you have

taken His gift of health, and His gift of Sunday rest--things given that

they might be spent in His service, and in worshipping Him in His

church. And yet you accept these gifts, you take them as the most

natural things in the world, and use the gifts of Almighty God for your

own selfish purposes. And is this honest? Certainly not.

But we will take another and a commoner case, if you like. God has

perhaps given you influence among your fellows, and as you go about

among them, you hear some person spoken against in terms which you know

are not true. And yet you allow the matter to pass, because you are

afraid that if you spoke, you might lose your influence. You forget

that even if you lost it for the time, God, for Whose sake you spoke,

would surely give it back, if He thought it good for you; and besides

this, you would have the consciousness of having done an honest deed,

and of having done it in an honest fearless way.

And so you see that it is quite possible to be a strictly honest man in

the sight of men, and a very dishonest man in the sight of God. And

which, think you, is the best? Which will stand you in good stead at

the day of judgment, your character as it has appeared to men, or as it

appears to God? I think the latter. For in the Bible we are taught that

the sight of God and that of men are two utterly different things, "for

the Lord seeth not as man seeth, for man looketh on the outward

appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart."

Some time ago in Edinburgh two gentlemen were standing at the door of an

hotel one very cold day, when a little boy with a poor thin blue face,

his bare feet red with cold, and with nothing to cover him but a bundle

of rags, came and said, "Please, sir, buy some matches." "No, don't

want any," the gentleman said. "But they are only a penny a box," the

poor little fellow pleaded. "Yes, but you see we don't want a box," the

gentleman said again. "Then I'll give you two for a penny," the boy

said at last. And so to get rid of him the gentleman who tells the

story says, I bought a box of him. But then I found I had no change,

and so I said I would buy a box tomorrow. "Oh do buy them to-night, if

you please," the boy again pleaded, "I will run and get you the change,

for I'm very hungry." So I gave him the shilling, and off he started.

I waited for him, but no boy came. Then I thought I had lost my

shilling; still there was that in the boy's face I trusted, and I did

not like to think ill of him. Late in the evening I was told a boy

wanted to see me. When he was brought in, I found it was a smaller

brother of the boy that had got my shilling, but if possible still more

ragged and poor and thin. He stood for a moment diving into his rags,

and then said, "Are you the gentleman that bought the matches from

Sandie?" "Yes." "Well, then, here's fourpence out of your shilling;

Sandie can't come, he's very ill; a cart ran over him, and knocked him

down, and he lost his cap and his matches and your sevenpence, and both

his legs are broken, and the doctor says he'll die, and that's all."

And then, putting the fourpence on the table, the poor child broke out

into great sobs. So I fed the little man, and went with him to see

Sandie. The two poor little things lived alone, father and mother both

dead. Poor Sandie lay on a bundle of shavings; he knew me as soon as I

came in, and having told me how his legs were broken, he added, as his

eyes fell on his little brother, "Oh Reuby, little Reuby! I'm sure I'm

dying, and who'll take care of you when I am gone?" Then I took his

hand and said, I would always take care of Reuby. He understood me, and

had just strength enough left to look up at me, as if to thank me; the

light went out of his blue eyes. And in a moment--

"He lay within the light of God

Like a babe upon the breast,

Where the wicked cease from troubling

And the weary are at rest."

That story was told in the noblest church of our great city. It was

reported in the papers the following day. And I have no hesitation in

saying that beautiful as are the words in which it is told, and

wonderful as the effect may have been on the hearts of those who heard

it, it was a sight far more wonderful than any we can imagine, when that

story was told in the courts of the kingdom of heaven.

Reader, think of little Sandie when you are tempted to say you are

honest, and ask yourself the question, "Can I lay my hand upon my heart

and say, My God, I am honest indeed, honest as that poor child was,

honest before my neighbours, honest before Thee."

*BEARING THE CROSS.*

"'Take up thy cross,' the Saviour said,

If thou would'st My disciple be;

Deny thyself, the world forsake,

And humbly follow after Me.

'Take up thy cross,' nor heed the shame,

Nor let thy foolish pride rebel:

Thy Lord for thee the Cross endured,

To save thy soul from death and hell!

'Take up thy cross,' and follow Christ--

Nor think till death to lay it down;

For only he who bears the cross,

May hope to wear the glorious crown!"

_C. W. Everest._

Bearing the cross, or self-denial, as it is sometimes called, forms a

necessary part of the daily life of every Christian man. Every one of

us can give up something for the good of others. A rich man is called

upon to give up one thing, a poor man another. But let none think that

his riches or his poverty, as the case may be, will excuse him from

bearing the cross of Christ. And indeed in the heart of any true

servant of God, there will be no wish to shirk the hard and disagreeable

part of His service. His heart will be so filled with love and devotion

to Christ, that he will gladly bear the cross, "despising the shame."

It may be we are called upon to give up our time to go and see a sick

neighbour, or it may be we are asked to do a neighbour a good turn by

going on an errand for them when we wish to go elsewhere. But whatever

it may be, it is certain that opportunities for practising self-denial

occur in the lives of us all. "If any man will come after Me"--Christ

has told us--"let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow

Me[#]." There is the command, now hear the promise made to such as

fulfil the command,--"and where I am, there shall also My servant

be[#]."

[#] S. Matt. xvi. 24.

[#] S. John xii. 26.

Self-denial may be in very simplest matters, and yet be quite as

acceptable to Christ as would be the most costly gifts bestowed by the

rich upon His service. You remember when Jesus was on earth, how one

day He was sitting over against the Treasury, and as He sat there He

kept taking notice of all the pieces of money that were cast into the

Treasury. Now there happened to come by some very rich people, and they

put large sums into the box, and passed on their way. And again others

came, and they too being rich, "cast in much." But after awhile there

came by one who is described as "a certain poor widow;" and "she cast in

all she had, even all her living." How much it cost her to give that

one farthing Jesus Christ knew well. Instead of keeping it to spend

upon her own needs, she brought it up to the temple Treasury and gave it

back to God. And that is just what you must do. I do not say it is

necessary, or even right, that people should in these days give

everything they possess to God. In one sense indeed we ought to give up

_all we have_ to the service of Christ; I mean by this that we ought at

all times to be ready to part with things earthly, if they interfere

with the cross we are called upon to bear. And I do say that we ought

to deny ourselves some little comfort or pleasure, and make a rule of

giving the money that we should thus have spent upon ourselves to the

service of Almighty God.

It is told of a great and good man who lived many years ago at

Cambridge, that on one occasion, being disheartened by the wickedness of

many of those with whom he came in daily contact, he retired to his

rooms, and taking his Bible he asked God to give him such help from its

pages as would serve him in his trouble. He opened the Bible at the

twenty-seventh chapter of S. Matthew's gospel, and his eye quickly fell

on the thirty-second verse, "And as they went out they found a man of

Cyrene, Simon by name; him they compelled to bear His Cross." Charles

Simeon, for it was he, rose from his knees comforted and strengthened.

The likeness between his own name of Simeon and the Cyrenian's name of

Simon, struck him forcibly; and he came to the conclusion that it was

the will of his Father in heaven that he should bear the cross under

which he was labouring.

Reader, yours, like his, may be the cross of ridicule, of your friend's

laughter at the things of God; and a bitter cross it is to bear! But

try and look upon it as a cross laid upon you by your Saviour, a cross

which He has borne before you up that bitter hillside of Calvary.

Remember it is not merely that you are called upon to bear the cross,

but, like Simon of Cyrene, that you should "bear it _after_ Jesus."

Therefore ask Him to give you strength to take up your cross daily,

cheerfully and lovingly, and bear it after Him. Then self-denial will be

less hard for you to practise than it is now. I do not say it will be

pleasant, for that it can never be, but the sting of it will be taken

away; indeed for the Christian, it long ago was taken away and laid on

Him Who bore the burden of our sins on Calvary. So let yours be a life

of obedience here, a living for others, a pleasing of others, not of

yourself; "For even Christ pleased not Himself[#]," but "was made sin

for us, Who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God

through Him[#]."

[#] Rom. xv. 3.

[#] 2 Cor. v. 21.

*HUMILITY.*

"Fain would I my Lord pursue,

Be all my Saviour taught;

Do as Jesus bids me do,

And think as Jesus thought:

But 'tis Thou must change the heart,

The perfect gift must come from Thee:

Meek Redeemer, now impart

Thine own humility.

Let Thy Cross my will control,

Conform me to my Guide;

In Thine Image mould my soul,

And crucify my pride;

Give me, Lord, a broken heart,

A heart that always looks to Thee:

Meek Redeemer, now impart

Thine own humility."

_Toplady._

Reader, do you know what humility is? It is quite possible to be very

proud indeed, and yet seem quite humble. Indeed, humility is often made

the cloak of pride. And yet nothing can be more different than these

two. Pride enters so much into the hearts, even of the very best of us,

that there is but small place left for humility. We often hear it said

of a person, "Oh! he feels _proper pride_ about such and such a matter."

But is there any such thing as _proper pride_? I can't find it in the

Bible. I do find, indeed, written there a great deal about pride and

proud people. "God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the

humble[#]," for instance. I turn again to my Church's Prayer Book, and

I find nothing there about _proper pride_; but I read there that the

Church teaches her children to ask God to deliver, or save, them "from

all pride, vain glory, and hypocrisy." I find that in the prayer, to be

used in time of war, we ask God to abate our enemies' pride. But

neither here, nor anywhere else, can I find _any sort_ of pride

commended to Christians. And so I have come to think that we have got

hold of the wrong word, and that the word we ought to use is _delight_.

It is quite right that a man should be delighted with his children, or

his garden, or his goods. It is quite wrong that he should be proud of

them.

[#] S. James iv. 6.

Now humility is just the very opposite to all this. Pride makes a man

put forward his own opinions, and hold to them, good or bad. It makes

him think all his possessions better than those of other people.

Humility, on the other hand, makes a man ever ready to listen to the

opinions of others, and to take advice. And humility teaches him that

the best possessions earth can give, are but poor compared to those of

Heaven. Just as in a cornfield the lightest ears of corn stand up

straight and attract attention, while those which carry most grain hang

down and are kept concealed by their weight, behind the others; so, too,

is it with humble-minded men. They shrink back from the gaze of men,

behind their comrades; and because they are quiet, and seldom speak

much, men think but little of them.

I have somewhere read a story of Benjamin Franklin, who once went to

call at a friend's house. On his leaving, his friend told him he would

shew him a shorter way out. They passed down a narrow passage, talking

to each other, when Franklin's friend suddenly cried out, "Stoop,

stoop." "I did not know," says Franklin, "what he meant, until I felt

my head hit against the beam." His friend, seeing what had happened,

said, "You are young, and have to go through the world. Stoop as you go

through it, and you will miss many hard knocks."

Reader, that was good advice. It is as suitable to you as to Franklin.

Will you not take it? Never be ashamed of doing anything that humility

calls upon you to do, and "you will avoid many hard knocks." Try and

look upon all work, however distasteful and unpleasant, as work for God.

If Jesus Christ had been proud, do you think He would have borne all the

taunts of those thirty bitter years? If S. Paul had been a proud man,

do you think he could ever have written down that glorious list of

troubles and hardships, suffered by land and by water, in the eleventh

chapter of 2nd Corinthians? How often we hear it said of a man, "He's a

nice man, he's got _no pride about him_." And if pride in others

doesn't please you, do you think if you shew pride it will be likely to

please God? It was He who gave you that hatred of pride in others; but

He gave it that you might correct it in yourself.

And the day will come when pride will be destroyed. It is one of the

greatest sins. Other great sins are covetousness, lust, envy, gluttony,

anger, sloth. And the virtues which are contrary to these are humility,

liberality, chastity, gentleness, temperance, patience, diligence. Ask

yourself to-night before you lie down to rest this question, "How many

of these last virtues can I say I am practising? Am I humble? Do I

give, as I am able, of my time, or my money, or my sympathy to help any

of my neighbours? Am I thoroughly pure in thought, word, and deed? Am

I gentle and kind to all around me? Am I moderate in eating and

drinking, and temperate in my habits of life? Am I patient under

suffering, sorrow, or misfortune? Do I do my best to serve God and man,

working hard in that position of life to which Almighty God has called

me?"

Reader, if you can say _yes!_ to all those questions when your

conscience asks them, you need not have much fear of God's reckoning

day. "In quietness and confidence shall be your strength." Trusting in

Jesus for complete salvation, living in love and charity with your

neighbours, you will pass the waves of this troublesome world, and land

upon the everlasting shore, out of reach of the ocean waves. And down

from the gates of the heavenly city will come to meet you, Jesus Christ

our Lord, with the words which He has graciously promised to speak to

all that humbly follow after Him here, "Well done, thou good and

faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord[#]."

[#] S. Matt. xxv. 21.

*MARTYRDOM.*

"Not by the martyr's death alone

The saint his crown in heaven has won;

There is a triumph robe on high

For bloodless fields of victory.

What though he was not called to feel

The cross of flame, or torturing wheel:

Yet daily to the world he died,

His flesh, through grace, he crucified."

_John Keble._

What is martyrdom? We sing every Sunday morning in Church the words,

"the noble army of martyrs praise Thee;" we bless God every

Christmastide for his martyr S. Stephen, and yet I suppose there are

many people who regularly attend Church who have no idea of what a

martyr is. Now I will tell you. A martyr is a witness! Any man,

woman, or child, (for there have been children martyrs,) who bears

witness to the truth, and suffers for it, is a martyr. If you or I,

reader, bear ridicule; if our friends laugh at us for going to Church,

or for staying for Holy Communion, then we are martyrs. The man who

lives in an ungodly society, and by his life and example bears witness

to the truth of Jesus, and suffers for so doing, he is a martyr. As I

write these words I can recall a vast number of martyrs' names; for the

martyrs, like the saints, are of every age and of every Church. Just as

every cornfield has its poppies; just as every poor man's garden has its

little plot set apart for flowers, so every Church has its martyrs. I

can recall the name of Xavier, the great Indian missionary, dying alone

upon the seashore, with the cruel blasts of a Chinese winter freezing

his very bones. Or I think of Bishop Patteson, already mentioned in

these pages, dying by the clubs of the natives, far off amid the

Southern seas. I could tell you the now well-known story of David

Livingstone, of his wonderful power over the African mind, of his noble

conflict with slavery, and his patient death in his lonely hut at Ulala.

But I will tell you one story of martyrdom which happened quite lately,

nearer home than any of these, a story of how a boy, scarcely ten years

old, gained the martyr's crown. About a year ago, a boat with seven

young boys went out on the coast of Scotland. The boys rowed out from

the shore some little way, until suddenly seeing something in the sea,

they all rushed together to the side of the boat to look over into the

water. The boat was upset, and they all went over into the sea. One

boy alone could swim, and, one after another, that boy saved five of his

companions; in trying to save the sixth, he himself became exhausted,

and sank to rise no more. That night there was joy, the joy of

recovery, in five happy homes; and I dare say the parents, in their joy

at getting their boys safe back, hardly gave a thought to the brave

little swimmer who had given his life for theirs. But I can imagine

that his Saviour gave him a warm welcome in Paradise that night, and in

return for his bravery, gave him the martyr's crown. For that child was

a martyr! God had given him a brave spirit, and on a sudden He called

upon him to shew it, and he bore witness for Christ.

Reader, your witness and mine may be very different to that. But it may

nevertheless be as truly called martyrdom. If we are ready to confess

Christ before men, He will not forget our names before His Father's

throne. But if we are cowardly here below, and deny Him now, He will

certainly not recognise us in His Father's kingdom.