I read somewhere of a little girl who told her mamma that God bade all
the angels in heaven keep quiet when she prayed; then all the angels
hushed their songs until she said amen. Amid all the songs and shouts
and playing of harps in heaven God hears the prayers of his humble ones
on earth. The odor of prayer from the hearts of God's children on earth
is as sweet to him as the songs of angels. The things the saints at
Philippi sent to Paul were an odor of a sweet smell to God. Cornelius'
alms-giving and prayers were kept in heaven as a memorial. So all your
gifts and doings and prayers are a rich perfume, which God keeps bottled
up in heaven as a memorial of you.
Your whole life, dear young saint, in all of its giving and doing, its
sacrifices and prayers, its humble service and devotion, is to be
constantly sending forth a sweet smell to God. This is spoken of in a
beautiful figure in S. of Sol. 1:12: "While the king sitteth at his
table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof." The king is
Jesus, who sits at the table of our hearts; the sweet spikenard is our
Christian lives. In Rev. 3:20 Jesus says, "I will come in to him, and
will sup with him, and he with me." The Christian's heart is the
dining-room; there is a table spread with the graces of the Spirit, the
fruits of the garden of the Lord. There Christ and the Christian sit
down to dine together. While the glory of the one lights up the room,
the holy life of the other perfumes it. O God, my soul doth magnify thee
for the preciousness of these thoughts.
When Christ was born wise men came and presented him frankincense and
myrrh, and in after-years Mary came and poured upon his head the
precious ointment of spikenard. These things were literally done, and
now when we bring our very best gifts, in the fulness of love, to the
Lord, we are breaking the alabaster box of sweet ointment and pouring it
upon his head. You owe Christ the very best of your life; yea, you owe
him your life. He must have all the affections of your heart. Christ
must have the very best of everything out of your life. Do not use the
dollars for yourself and give him the pennies. Do not sip the honey from
the flower and give him the leaves. Do not eat the fresh bread yourself
and give him that which is stale. Do not give him the well-worn garment
and keep the best robe for yourself.
But how can we now give to the Lord! "As oft as ye do it unto the least
of these ye do it unto me." As you go about your life work as a
Christian always do what you do as to the Lord. When you pray in public
talk to Jesus the same as if he were there in person, and not to be
heard of men. When you give money to the needy do it as if you were
giving it to Jesus himself, for such it really is. If Christ should come
to your door and ask for a drink, how eagerly you would get it for him!
You must remember that to give a cup of water to one of his little ones
is the same as giving it to him. When you visit a sick-chamber and are
invited to sing you should sing just as sweetly as if you were singing
purposely for the Savior, and all your words should be spoken as
tenderly as if you were talking to him.
[Illustration: THE TREE OF LIFE.]
Jesus has given you the purest love of heaven; he has clothed you with
the whitest robe; he gives you the very best heaven affords; and, O
beloved, will you not give him the very best life? Live with all your
soul for Jesus; serve him every moment. Bring the best of your life, its
love, its service, its perfume, and pour them upon the head and feet of
Jesus.
THE TREE OF LIFE.
"The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life," says Proverbs. How
wonderful! how inspiring! The fruit borne by a Christian is a savor of
life to many. If you live a true Christian life all the way through, God
will use the fruit you bear to bring another soul to life. Your
Christian life will not be lived in vain. That "beloved disciple" said,
"On either side of the river was there the tree of life, which bare
twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month." Your life
is compared to a river; and if you travel along down its course in the
fulness of God's grace, upon its banks will grow the tree of life, of
which others may eat and live forever. Such thoughts are almost too
wonderful for me; they overwhelm my soul.
Jesus said, "I am the bread of life," and, "He that eateth of this bread
shall live forever." This same Jesus has come into your life. You are
dead, but Jesus lives. He lives in you. The fruit you bear will be eaten
by others and be life to their souls. O my young reader, will you not be
watchful and prayerful and let God live in you and bring forth fruit to
his own glory? Cultivate the Christian graces, and see to it that there
is never a withered leaf on your life's tree, but be ever green and full
of fruit, scattering a holy influence everywhere. May your life stand
out upon the shores of time heavy laden with the fruits of the Spirit,
of which others may eat long after you are gone to your reward. You can
make it so. Will you do it? As for me, from the fulness of my soul I
answer, I WILL.
ETERNITY.
Did you ever attempt to look to the end of eternity? Have you endeavored
to comprehend its duration? Alas! it is something beyond the conception
of the finite mind. Look into it as far as you can and no less of it
lies beyond the end of your vision. Eternity is something never begun
and something that will never end. It is a circle which has no end of
beginning and no end of closing. It goes on and on and on until millions
upon millions of ages have passed away, and then on and on to other
millions upon millions of ages, and then still on, being no less in
duration than before. When you have been there ten million years you
will be no nearer the end than when you first entered this boundless
duration.
What a vast and awful thought! Eternity! I stand upon the shore of ocean
and looking out upon the broad expanse I see nothing but ocean; I see no
other shore. I stand and look out upon the ocean of eternity, and see
nothing but eternity. I can see out for millions and billions and
trillions of years, and yet it is eternity. Where shall I spend it? My
soul answers, "In heaven through the blood."
NEARER TO THEE.
Nearer to thee, O my Savior,
Nearer I would be each day.
As I cross life's stormy ocean
Never from thee let me stray.
Nearer, nearer, ever nearer,
Is the language of my soul
As I journey down life's pathway,
As I near bright heaven's goal.
Lead me through this world of sorrow,
Let my hand in thine e'er be;
Throw thy arms of love around me,
Savior, let me walk with thee.
When the storm-clouds round me gather
In the clefted Rock I hide;
When the surging billows threaten,
Fold me closer to thy side.
There's a home for me in heaven,
By the crystal, silvered sea;
Some sweet morn the golden portals
Opened wide will be for me.
There in amaranthine glory
I will sit at Jesus' feet;
There I'll sing the sweet old story
As I walk the golden street.
O my heart, wait on in patience,
Each day brings me nearer the goal;
In some blissful dewy dawning
Heaven will receive my soul.
CONCLUSION.
Our introduction is upon the subject of Life; our conclusion is upon
Death. To many people the word _death_ is full of horror. Thank God, it
holds no horror to the pure in heart. Death has no sting for those whose
souls are in fellowship with God. Those who love God hail with joy the
hour in which they are to meet him. Death to a Christian is only his
removal from earth to the paradise of God. If some man of wealth were to
tell you he had a rich home prepared for you in a distant land, where
you could have all your heart could wish, and be happy as long as you
lived, if you had confidence in the man, you could say good-by and
cheerfully go to your new home. Death is nothing more.
Some may shudder at the thought of the pain in death. How often we hear
remarks like this: "This pain is almost like death," or, "it's like
taking one's life." Have you not stood beside the infant's crib and
watched it go peacefully to sleep? Where was the pain? Death to a
Christian is only a going to sleep. You have had far more pain in life
than you will have in death.
There may be pain just prior to death, but none in death. Death to a
saint is as peaceful as going to sleep.
Have you not often been in some solitary place and given yourself into
the arms of Muse? You have fallen to thinking about heaven and the
angels and the Savior and your crown. You seemed as your soul was wafted
upward on the wings of meditation, to lose consciousness of all on
earth. Such will it be in death. Your soul will begin to see the glories
of heaven; you will hear the sweet strains of music; you will begin to
lose consciousness of earthly things and comprehend more of heaven. Then
soon you will draw your last breath on the shore of time and sound your
first note of praise on the shore of eternity. This is all there is in
death. It is precious to fond parents to see their little children, with
folded hands, go peacefully to sleep. So to our Father in heaven is the
death of his saints precious.
In fancy I can see many of my young readers, after a well-spent life,
gathered in ripe old age on the banks of old Time's-river, waiting in
bright hope to be summoned over to their rich possessions in the verdant
fields of heaven.
There is nothing more of death than this to a Christian. I pray that
the life of many of you will end like this. I believe it will be so.
Amen.
A strange, sweet vision fills my soul,
A glimpse of glory and of God;
Am I not near life's final goal?
My feet scarce touch this mortal sod.
The zephyrs blow divinely sweet,
With fragrance fill the balmy air;
Are heav'n and earth about to meet?
Who can this vision bright declare?
I hear the notes of seraph song,
The rustle of an angel's wing;
Do signs like these to earth belong?
Do men and angels meet to sing?
Life's journey seems about complete;
I con it well, yet know not why.
My heart with longings is replete,
And yet I do not long to die.
A holy calm my bosom fills,
And silence like the hush of morn;
Such joy through all my being thrills
As swept men's hearts when Christ was born.
Amid the crowds I look around
To see who bear love's fragrant flower;
I fain would walk on holy ground
Made sacred by the Spirit's power.
God has the keeping of my ways,
His laws I rev'rence and obey;
My prayers seem almost turned to praise,
And yet I can not cease to pray.
If this is death, I do not dread
To lay me down in peace to die--
To be with all the sainted dead,
Far, far beyond the arching sky.
CLOSING EXHORTATION.
God has forgiven you all your sins; he has sanctified you wholly. You
stand to-day in the way of life; you are fully out upon the Christian
way. You have on the whole armor of God. You possess the power of God's
Spirit in your soul, the love of God is in your heart as a burning
flame. You are tasting the sweet joys that flow from heaven's throne. In
your soul is imprinted the image of Jesus. Your heart is a garden of
opening buds, which emit the sweet fragrance of heaven. But,
notwithstanding all this blessedness of experience, I want you to
remember you are just starting on the pilgrim's way.
I thought of bringing this little work to a close with the preceding
letter, but it seems that I am loath to say the last word. I wonder if
there is one word more I can say to help you in your Christian race. It
is impossible for me to express how my heart yearns in love and
tenderness for you.
God wants to use your life on earth to his glory. He wants you so to
shine in the glory and splendor of his grace that you may light others
in the way. He wants the opening buds of grace in your soul to burst
into full bloom. He wants to lead you higher up the mountain of joy, to
the very fount of blessings. He wants to lead you down into the lowly
vale where there are greater riches than gold. He wants his image in
your heart to stand out in greater beauty and perfection; the features
are yet too dim.
While in this life your immortal soul is wrapped about with a veil of
mortality; but God wants to shine such a radiant light and amaranthine
glory into your soul that the veil of mortality will not be able wholly
to obscure it. It will shine out through the material part and glow in
transparent beauty upon the surface.
If you will follow where he leads, he will lead you on from virtue to
deeper, truer virtue; he will lead you on to fountains of sweeter joy.
It may be through the vale of sorrow; but never fear nor distrust, and
you will find your joy rising higher in the cup. If you will follow, he
will lead you from peace on to broader, deeper rivers of peace. It may
be through angry billows and past rough rocks; but if you trust him and
follow on, he will bring you to yet calmer and more peaceful waters. If
you will stay in his presence, he will impart unto you his own lovely
character, and you will grow up into a holier life, into sweeter
fellowship with God, into richer beauty and greater usefulness.
He will sometimes call you where the flowers are blooming and sweet
fragrance fills the air, where the birds sing sweetly and the zephyrs
blow gently; he will lead you along the rippling streams, and delight
your soul with the music of the wave; he will lead you through the shady
glens and leafy bowers,--until your soul will sing, "Is not this the
land of Beulah?" But he may sometimes lead you through the desert, or
over the rugged mountain, or across the stormy seas; he may lead you
away from all that is dear to your heart; he may lead you into paths
where the shadows lie deep, and thorns spring up on every side. He will
lead you on to duties that may oftentimes seem too hard for you to do;
but this one thing I assure you in Jesus' name: he will never call you
to a duty or a sacrifice but that will prove a blessing to your soul and
enrich you in his grace. You must follow on.
To get the sweetness out of your life, he may sometimes bruise you.
There are flowers that emit but little fragrance until they are bruised.
Many trials, no doubt, are awaiting you; but do not live them until you
get to them, then his grace will be sufficient for you.
In closing, I beseech you from the fulness of my heart to follow Jesus
all the way. Let nothing turn you back. Never mind the storms and cruel
winds. What if the thorns prick your feet? they pierced his brow. What
if the duties do seem hard and the way seems weary? Follow on, linger in
his presence, breathe in of his fulness, live in humble submission,
never murmur but in every sorrow draw the closer to him, never falter,
labor on, and you will find joys in every sorrow, blessings in every
sacrifice, and delights in every duty. He will perfume your life with
the odor of heaven and make you a blessing on earth to man. He will make
your life a well of water where many a weary traveler may drink and
thirst no more; he will make it a tree of life where they may eat and
hunger no more. And when life is done he will bring you with all your
golden sheaves through the gates of glory into the haven of eternal
rest, where I hope to meet you. With this, I will say farewell.
[Illustration]