Chapter III: Part 3

Many a devout one since that day has had his secret communion-place with God. Perhaps it was in the woods on a mossy knoll, under an oak, on a grassy spot on the bank of a stream, or under a shade-tree that grew by the brook in the meadow. To these places of solemn silence they would retreat when the shades of night were falling or when the light of the morning was streaking the sky, and there from the fulness of their souls they would pour out their praise and thanksgiving to God. These were the dearest places in the world to them. It may be there are aged ones today who had such places in the earlier days of their lives. Though they are now far removed from those scenes, these are still sacred in their memory.

There are those today who have their altars of prayer in some secluded place. There they meet God and tell him all their sorrows and cares, there they recount to him his loving kindness, there they implore his grace to sustain them through all their trying scenes of life, and there they worship at his feet. Bless his name! Beloved, have you a "fig-tree"? and are you often found under it? Have you a quiet nook somewhere which is hallowed by the presence of God?

The beloved disciple John, when in the Spirit, saw golden vials in the hands of the worshipers of the Lamb around the throne. These golden vials, he says, were "full of odors, which are the prayers of the saints" (Rev. 5: 8). Are you, dear reader, every day filling golden vials around God's throne with the sweet odor of prayer? Again, this disciple, when the seventh seal was opened, saw seven angels standing before God with seven trumpets. Then came another angel, with a golden censer. To him was given incense, which he offered with the prayers of saints upon the golden altar, and the smoke of the incense which came with the prayers of saints ascended before God. (See Rev. 8:3, 4.) We have the privilege of mingling our prayers with the incense that is being offered before the throne.

The Psalmist seemed to comprehend something of the nature of prayer when he said, "Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense, and the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice." Psa. 141:2. The prayers that were offered by the devout Cornelius were so fragrant before God that they were kept as a memorial of him. A memorial is something kept in remembrance of any one. If you want to be kept in remembrance before God, see that your prayers are highly impregnated with a sweet odor. You must pray or die. No one can retain spiritual life any great length of time without prayer. So we exhort you to a life of prayer.

SHUT THE DOOR.

It is as impossible to live and prosper spiritually without prayer as it is to live and prosper physically without food. Those who enjoy a close walk with God and have power with him are those who pray. Natural abilities and intellectuality can never supply any lack in spirituality. Unless you are spiritual, you are of but little use to God; and to be spiritual, you must live much in prayer. It is not those who are on their knees the oftenest or the longest that do the most praying. Some may pray more real prayer in one hour than others in two or three hours. Too many people leave the door open. Prayer that feeds the soul must be offered with the door shut. "But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret." Matt. 6:6.

God is in secret. He is hidden from the world. The world does not see him, neither knows him. You can never reach God in your prayers unless you shut out the world. Shutting the door means something more than closing the door of your literal closet. Persons may enter the literal closet and close the door, and yet have the world in their hearts and thoughts. Such have not closed the door in the true sense.

In the public assembly you must enter your closet when you pray, and shut the door, or your prayers avail not with God. You must talk from your heart to the heart of God. Those assembled may hear your words, but they do not know the secret. The secret is between your heart and the heart of God. You scarcely hear your words. You know and hear more of the speaking of your heart. There is a blessing in such praying; there is a joy that can not be told. Such prayer feeds the soul upon the divine life and lifts us in realms of light and happiness. Thank God for the sweet privilege of secret intercourse with him. O beloved, when you pray, enter into your closet, and be sure to close the door.

ALONE WITH GOD.

This life of ours will never be all that it should be unless we are much alone with God. Only those who are oft alone with him know the benefit that is derived therefrom. You can not be like God unless you are much with him, and you can not live like him unless you are like him. The Scriptures tell us that Jesus departed into the mountain to be alone with the Father and that he was often "alone praying." When Jesus had anything of great importance to say to his disciples, he always took them aside from the multitude. When he was transfigured, he took three of his disciples into a mountain apart from all the world. When he was one time alone praying with his disciples, he asked them who he was. Peter answered, "The Christ of God" (Luke 9:18). It was only when he was alone with them and after prayer that he could bring them into such nearness to him that they might know in their hearts that he was the Son of God. When amid the active duties of life and when in contact with the world, we can scarcely come into that sacred nearness to God that will enable us to feel in our hearts all that God is. We may get slight glimpses of his glory, we may occasionally get a dim view of some of his beauty, we may feel a little warming of his love in our bosoms; but only when alone with him are we awed into wonder at the sight of his glory and great beauty. It is only then that we see him in his purity and feel the warm sunshine of his love. It is only then that our hearts can be deeply impressed with the knowledge that he is God, and in childlikeness we can look up to him and call him Father.

PRAYERFUL REMEMBRANCE.

At evening time when dark'ning shades draw nigh
And flickering rays of light go chasing by,
When all around glad nature sweetly sings
And seems you hear the sound of angel's wings,
Some one in memory may be brought to thee.

Maybe some one from distant land away,
Of whom you had no thought for many a day.
'Tis passing strange; you do not understand
Why such a one and from such distant land
Should step across the threshold of your mind,
Why he to you at this time should be brought.
'Tis mystery when all else claims your thought;
You seek to understand, but learn it not.

Maybe this one has conflict great and sore,
Is struggling long and hard 'gainst grim despair,
And God who rules the thought and mind of man
Has brought him this long way to you for prayer.
Then do not drive these whisperings from your mind
Nor cast them carelessly upon the wind:
'Tis but the voice of God, in tender care
For suffering one on life's broad way somewhere,
Inviting you to plead for him in prayer.

Kind friend, if at morning, noon, or night
I come to thee on wings of memory,
It is no doubt because the fight is fierce;
Then will you bow and pray to God for me?

HE CARETH FOR THEE.

Life will never be successful unless we learn to let God care for us. Unless we have faith to know that God is our keeper and that hence we have nothing to fear, we shall never be the cheer and sunlight in this dark world that God designed us to be. This is a world of trouble. Sin envelops many souls in awful midnight gloom. Some may never find Jesus unless they see him smiling in your face. You as God's dear child are to be a light to those poor, benighted souls. To be such a light, you must be full of light, and to be full of light you must be full of hope by faith in the cheering and encouraging promises of God. None can be truly happy, none can be the cheer, comfort, and consolation to the world, who are bearing their own burdens. Only those who have learned the sweet lesson of trust in God and know that he cares for them are truly happy and free and capable of cheering others.

He who this one short life would live
As heaven has designed
Must scatter rays of cheering light
From a heart with Hope enshrined.

There are many priceless promises in the Word of God. There is a promise for every need, condition, and circumstance of life. Among these blessed promises, here is one that has brought comfort to many a weary pilgrim on life's way: "Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." 1 Pet. 5:7. If this promise does not lift you far above all the trials, discouragements, and weariness of life, it is because you do not believe it nor understand the fulness of its meaning. "He careth for <i>you</i>." It is not your neighbor or your friend, but it is you. Cares will come to you, certainly; you could never cast your cares upon God if you had none. But you have them and doubtless many of them. The difficulty with many is, they do not cast them on God. Reader, your life will never be, it can not be, that free, happy, radiant, sunlit, helpful life that pleases God, if you bear your own cares.

There is nothing too trivial in life to take to God. In the very smallest concerns of your daily life he has an interest. In everything let your requests be known unto him. Do learn to take everything to him. Fret over nothing, never worry for a moment. Let nothing disturb or disquiet you. I say <i>nothing</i>. "He careth for you." Do you comprehend the full meaning of these words? Think them over for a moment. Let go of yourself and let God keep you. Oh, the freedom that belongs to the children of God! Theirs is a sweet land of liberty. But alas! how many will go on bearing their own burdens and weighted down with care with these words right before them: "He careth for you"! Why not let him?

Care is a grace-destroyer. If you would be strong in the grace of God, you must live free from care. It gnaws at the very vitals of the soul. A strong cable made of many fine wires was stretched across the river and was used to tow a heavy scow back and forth. One of the small strands was broken. This was thought to be a small matter. Soon another was broken and then another. Still this was not of much consequence. One by one more were broken but unheeded because each was so small. Finally all were broken, and the boat went adrift. A little care does not seem to be of much consequence. But the Bible says to be "careful for <i>nothing</i>," and to "cast <i>all</i> your care upon him."

Some have thought that the bearing of burdens and cares made us strong in the Lord. No, it is the casting of them on Jesus that makes us strong. For a man to be down under a heavy weight is no exercise to his muscles; but to be up on his feet and passing heavy weights on to another, this is exercise. To be down under burdens and cares is no exercise to the soul, but is really death; the passing of the cares on to Jesus is the exercise and the strength of the spiritual powers. If you only knew how much grace a little care destroyed, you would quickly cast them on Jesus. Some have come to find themselves entirely without grace because they did not cast their cares on the Lord. We knew a sister whose baby was such a care that she could not keep saved. One day when asked how she was getting along in the Lord, she answered, "Not well; the baby is such a care and worry that I can not keep the victory I should like to have." Was it not too bad to lay such a blame upon a poor little innocent child? I was asked one time if it was possible to reach an experience where we would never fret or worry. Certainly we can. We shall never get to a place where we shall have no temptations, but we can get to a place where we shall not yield to the temptations. Your life has not reached that degree of perfection that it should, until you have attained to such an experience. Jesus says, "Take no thought for the morrow." When you are having any great anxieties about future things, you are doing what Jesus tells you not to do, and you can not do something he tells you not to do without suffering spiritual loss. Oh! why will you worry about anything, when Jesus says, "Be anxious for nothing." "But," you say, "when there is no meat in the larder and no flour in the bin, can we then be not anxious?" There are those who have been in just such circumstances and yet have not been greatly troubled.

If you will be over-anxious about anything, you can never live close to God. When anxieties knock at the door of your heart for admittance and you open the door and let them in, you are opening the door to a dangerous band of robbers. They are robbers of grace and peace. When anxieties step over the threshold of your heart's door, grace and peace fly out of the window. "But what am I to do?" sighs a care-worn soul. Do just what a good man says he did. He said that he opened his heart to Jesus, and he came in and shut the door. Let Jesus keep the door of your heart. When anxieties come and want into your heart, tell them they must get permission from Jesus, because you have given your whole heart up to him. This is what is meant by "casting your care upon him." It is not enough to kneel down and ask Jesus to take them; you must cast them upon him. In this is the soul's needed exercise. The soul that will do this shall be strong. You must put the burden over on the Lord's shoulders and let him bear it. He will bear all your burdens for you if you will lay them upon him.

Not only must you put them upon him, but you must let go entirely. You do not even need to look after them to see what he does with them. Your little child comes to you with a tangled cord. It gives it over into your hands, but holds to one end. Now, you know that in order to get the tangle out, you must have both ends. O weary one, Jesus will disentangle all the cares of life, but you must let him have both ends. He does not want your help. You hinder him if you attempt to help him. Cares will come; things that are of a trying nature will assail us as long as we live; but we have a refuge in Jesus; he will bear our burdens; he will care for us.

"CONSIDER THE LILIES."

What a beautiful lesson Jesus has taught us of rest and quietness from the lilies! "Consider the lilies of the field," he says, "how they grow: they toil not, neither do they spin." He is trying to teach us how free we can be--free from all earthly cares and anxieties. The lily does not struggle; it has no anxieties about its future; but it grows. It grows to be beautiful. Even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of them. God paints the flower with greater beauty than the robes of kings. If you would be beautiful, you must rest in the Lord. Just a little struggling, and you will mar the whole. Christ wants to reveal himself through you. He will shine the beauty of his own glorious person into your soul if you will but be quiet. Have no anxieties about the things that pertain to this life, and Jesus will clothe you with the beauties of heaven. Character, as the years pass on, is revealed on the face. The miser's face shows the miserly condition of his heart. Jesus will stamp his own image upon the soul if the soul is kept in quietness, and this image will stand out in beauty on the face and outward life.

By this lesson of the lilies Jesus did not mean to teach that we should not pray. He once said, "Men ought always to pray." We must pray much. If we do not pray, Satan will have us toiling and spinning. Keeping close to Jesus with a strong faith and a firm trust is the only way to rest, and we can not do this without much prayer. "Cease thy toiling and care." Learn a lesson from the lilies. Rest in the Lord, and he will make you an object of Christian beauty that will bless the world. Even after you are long gone, that restful, patient life will cast its rays of light and beauty back and chase away the shadows from the life of others.

The day has gone, the twilight fades,
There's stillness everywhere;
I seek some place of solitude,
And humbly bow in prayer.

I tell the story of the day--
The joy, the grief, the care;
I keep not back one secret thing,
But tell it all in prayer.

O heart of mine, be light and free,
Not lightest burden bear,
In everything let thy requests
Be told to God in prayer.

Yes, all; I tell it all to Christ
In evening twilight dim:
Somehow my heart much lighter grows
Since all is told to him.

I lay my life at his dear feet--
O Jesus, I am thine!
I'll walk the way of life with thee;
Thy will, O Christ, is mine.

And now I lay me down to sleep
While gathering shadows fall,
And sweet indeed my rest shall be,
Since Jesus knows it all.

SORROWFUL YET ALWAYS REJOICING.

This world is sometimes called "the vale of tears." Jesus said, "In the world ye shall have tribulation," but he also said, "In me ye shall have peace." The way to heaven is through tribulations. Those whom John saw standing before the throne and the Lamb arrayed in white robes and with palms in their hands, were one day where we now are, and thank God, we, coming up through great tribulation, shall some day be where they are. While man in this world will meet with sorrow, he can by the grace of God always rejoice. Alum thrown into muddy water will clarify it. The grace of God thrown into a cup of sorrow will turn it to joy. Sorrows are needful. It is only a barren waste where there is no rainfall.

We have sung, "No days are dark to me." This can indeed be true, but it is not to be taken in the sense that there will be no clouds nor rainfall. Show me a man who never has a cloud to float across his sky, and I will show you a man who has not faith enough to see clearly in the sunlight. It is those whose faith pierces through the cloud and keeps the smiling, sunlit face of Christ in view that have the truest, sweetest joy. Their rejoicing is in the Lord. By bravery and force of will some may shut themselves against sorrow and soon become insensible to it. But the heart that is steeled against sorrow is in all probability so calloused that it can not experience joy. Those who know the deepest sorrow may ofttimes know the fullest joy, and that in the midst of their sorrow. Do not harden your heart against sorrow, but look to Jesus for that balm which heals, that grace which sustains, that comfort which gladdens. Some have thought that true joy consists in never having a sorrow; that those who have sorrow have not found the way of peace. In this they err. Those who never have a sorrow rejoice because they have no sorrows, but some who have sorrow have learned to rejoice in the Lord. This is truest joy.

"Sorrowful," said one who was crucified with Christ, "yet always rejoicing." He never once denied having sorrow; nay, he said, "I have great heaviness, and continual sorrow in my heart." But he also said, "I glory." It was the deep sorrow that made him most like Jesus. He had feeling. "We sorrow," he said, "but not as those who have no hope." The world knows a sorrow that the Christian does not know. Christians should be careful lest in hardening themselves against feeling they do not render themselves incapable of feeling compassion, sympathy, and pity.

Let the tears flow. If you keep them back, the fountain will dry up. May the Lord pity those who have no tears! Jesus wept. The apostle Paul said, "Out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote unto you with many tears." Oh, that unfeeling heart that can not suffer, that dry heart that has no fountain of tears! It weeps not over the sorrows of others and consequently can not rejoice when others are joyful. Only those who weep can truly rejoice.

You rejoice because you and your family are in good health, because your friends are smiling upon you, because circumstances surrounding you are favorable, because you have an abundance of good things to eat and of clothing to wear. But your rejoicing is only in earthly things. We are to be grateful for these things, but they are only the sea-foam of joy; the water lies beneath. True joy is to rejoice not only <i>in</i> the Lord but <i>with</i> the Lord. Rejoice in those things in which Jesus and the angels rejoice. When your goods are being wasted, you find your deepest joy because God is being glorified.

If you can not weep with angels, you can not rejoice with them. See that aged pilgrim: his has been a hard and stony way; loved ones have gone one by one from his embrace; riches have taken wings and flown away; sorrows are multiplied; trials are many; burdens are heavy; he is footsore, sad, and weary. Angels are bending over him weeping. Can you weep with him and them? They comfort him. The sadness of his heart begins to die away; hope begins to dawn. The dawning of the hope causes the angels to rejoice. This is truest joy. Rejoice when souls are saved; rejoice when hearts are gladdened; rejoice when God is praised. This is the true source of purest joy. But it is only those who are capable of suffering deeply with the sufferings of others, that can truly rejoice when their sufferings are turned away. The more we are like Jesus, the more we have of his Spirit, the tenderer will be our hearts and the more deeply will our souls be moved by the sufferings of others.

When some dear friend has proved untrue; when some loved one has gone astray; when the death-angel has left a chair vacant at your hearth-stone and deep sorrow lies upon your soul, then it is that you feel nearer to Jesus. You feel ripe for heaven. The world has suddenly gone out, and you have cast your eyes upward. Do not try to keep back the tears; let them flow. They are pearls in angels' sight. It is the tears of the child that touches the heart of the parent, and cites him to give comfort to the little one. It is the tears of the Christian that touches the great loving heart of God and moves him to give that solace which only Heaven gives. David said in a time of deepest sorrow--his son was seeking his life--"It may be the Lord will look on my tears [margin], and that the Lord will requite me good." Hezekiah was doomed to die. The prophet told him to 'set his house in order, for he should die, and not live.' The dying man turned his face to the wall and prayed, "I beseech thee, O Lord, remember now how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight"; and he "wept with a great weeping [margin]." This touched the heart of God, and he said, "I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: behold, I will heal thee."

If the heart of God's saints were a deeper fountain of tears, more sick people would be healed in these days. Around are the sick and suffering, but alas, how few tears! When saints have so deepened into God, cultivated such a tenderness of heart, and become so deeply compassionate, that they will "water their couch with their tears all the night" at the sight of sick persons, they will get answers to their prayers. To such God will say, "Behold, I will heal him." If tears will not reach God, the case is hopeless. Esau sought for a place of repentance and sought it with tears, but could not find it. The mentioning of tears here implies that the addition of tears to earnest heart-seeking has influence with God. Jeremiah, in his lamentations for fallen Israel, said, "Oh, that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people!" He knew that if anything would avail with God, it would be tears therefore he wished that his eyes were a fountain of tears, so that God might be moved to save Israel.

"They that sow in tears shall reap in joy." There can be no harvest from seed sown unless the seed is watered. As you go out to sow seed in the Master's field, water them with your tears if you would have a joyful harvest. May God save his people from unfeelingness of heart! A soul with no tears is a soul with no flowers. There is no verdure where there is no water. Those who are not deep enough in God to shed tears over a lost and ruined world are not deep enough to shed tears of joy over a soul's salvation. Out from the depth of his heart Jesus cried, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! how oft would I have gathered thee as a hen gathereth her brood under her wing, but ye would not." When did you shed tears over lost souls? Do you ever have a Gethsemane? Is your pillow ever dampened by tears shed for a doomed world? Do you ever go out beneath the starry sky and with outstretched arms cry in the severe pains of travail, "O lost souls, lost souls! how oft would I have gathered thee to Jesus, as a hen gathers her brood under her wing, but ye would not"? Only those who have deep travail of soul for the lost can fully rejoice when the lost are found.

One of the apostles said he served the "Lord with many tears." A heart from which flows no tears is not a heart that is wholly imbued by the Spirit of God. Tears of compassion for the suffering, tears of warning and entreaty for the lost, tears of joy for the saved, will flow through a perfectly holy heart as freely as water through a sieve. Sunlight perforates the block of ice from the center outward; so the love of God perforates the heart to its depths and lets the tears of affection, pity, and sympathy flow out.

Do not try to escape suffering. Do not shut your heart against sorrow. It is the bruised flower that gives out the sweetest scent. Open thy heart to God and let him bruise it, let sorrow flow in and break it, that sweetness may flow out. When the poet sang:

"I no trouble and no sorrow
See today, nor will I borrow
Gloomy visions for the morrow,"

he sang not of sorrow for souls lost in sin, nor of needful heaviness through manifold temptations, nor of sorrow awakened by the suffering of others, but of that sorrow which arises from the world through distrust and separation from God.

There is a sorrow which comes through Christ. It is as the refiner's fire, purifying the soul and binding it closer to God. Such sorrow detaches the heart from the world and from self, and hides it in God. It is impossible for the soul to approach any degree of nearness to Christ only through sorrow and suffering. In my own experience my heart once longed for deeper grace. My whole soul breathed out, "O Jesus! give me more meekness." For a few days a heavy cloud of sorrow lay upon me; when it had passed away, I had an answer to my prayer.

I would have you beware of that unfeeling state in which one has no sorrow, and mistakingly attributes its absence to grace. Grace helps us bear sorrow, but does not harden our hearts against it. Sorrow brings us to a throne of grace for grace and grace brings us joy, so that we have joy in sorrow. No other joy is so sweet as this. It is the real and true joy of Christ.

GENTLENESS.

Fruit-bearing trees are used in the Scriptures to represent the race of mankind. The Savior likens the wicked to "corrupt trees," which bear evil fruit and the righteous to "good trees" which bear good fruit (Matt. 7:15, 20). He also teaches very emphatically the impossibility of one's being a good tree and yet bearing evil fruit, or of being a corrupt tree and bearing good fruit. Since the nature of the fruit we bear determines what manner of tree we are, it is very advisable that we as professing Christians should frequently examine the fruit we are bearing. To be Christ's, or to be a Christian, we must have the Spirit of Christ; for the Scriptures say that "if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his" (Rom. 8:9). As certainly as cause produces effect, those who have the Spirit of Christ bear the fruit of the Spirit. Not to bear the fruit of the Spirit is full proof that you have not the Spirit. Then a close examination of the fruit you are bearing will reveal to you whether or not you have the Spirit of Christ, whether or not you are his, whether or not you are a Christian. You can make a superficial examination, and allow yourself to be deceived. You can make excuses for yourself because of your weaknesses, and thus deceive yourself. But a close, thorough, profound examination will disclose to each one the manner of spirit he is of.

Gentleness is one of the fruits of the Spirit (Gal. 5: 22). If we have the Spirit of Christ, we bear this fruit. "Well," says one, "in my very make -up I am rough, harsh, and hasty." You need to be made anew. When God finds a man that is rough, harsh, and severe in his make-up, He will, if the man will yield to the operation of the Holy Spirit, make him mild, gentle, and peaceful. People go to a hospital and by a scientific operation have abscesses and tumors removed from the stomach and other internal parts. God, by a blessed, wonderful, and successful operation of the Holy Spirit, will take that roughness, harshness, and severity out of your nature, and instil mildness, tenderness, softness, and gentleness instead. Harshness and roughness are a corruption that God, in his gracious plan of salvation, is pleased to remove. If you will allow the Holy Spirit to work in you that which is pleasing in God's sight, he will make you gentle.

What is gentleness? It is blandness, softness, mildness, and meekness. It is the opposite of harshness, roughness, etc. It is sweetness of disposition, mildness of temper, softness of manner, kindness, tenderness, etc. Those who are of a gentle disposition act and speak without asperity. They are not morose, sour, crabbed, and uneven, but are smooth, mild, and even. Good manners are intimately connected with gentleness, and good manners are no dishonor to Christianity.

The apostle Paul by way of testimony said to the Thessalonian saints, "We were gentle among you, even as a nurse cherisheth her children." 1 Thess. 2:7 Such was his manner. As a kind mother is to a delicate child, so was he to those whom he loved. Vastly different was he then from what he was when he was persecuting and wasting the church of God. He had been changed by grace. He exhorts servants of the Lord to "be gentle unto all men" (2 Tim. 2: 24) and to be "gentle, showing all meekness unto all men" (Tit. 3:2). David, in his sublime tribute of praise to God in 2 Sam. 22: 36 says, "Thy gentleness hath made me great."

Would you, my reader, like to be more gentle in your manner? Are you too harsh and rough? Are you, if a parent, as gentle to your children as you should be, at all times? Husband, are you as kind and gentle toward your wife as you should be? Do you believe you fill the Bible measure in this particular? Are you as gentle to your domestic animals as you should be? or do you have impatient feelings and act in a hasty, abrupt manner towards them? If you meet with something quite provoking from your wife or the children or the animals, do you keep as mild and sweet as you know you should? Now, I hope you will examine closely. I do not mean to condemn you; I want to help you. There are many professing saints today who are not nearly so gentle as they should be. Why not be in earnest, and seek God for help, and make improvement? Why go along with crossness, and coldness and snappishness in your life? Be gentle toward all.

Gentleness is a beauteous grace. Her excellence is great. By culture this grace is capable of much improvement. Too few saints experience it to the extent they should. I beseech you by the gentleness of Jesus to be in earnest and improve upon your gentleness. Never allow a frown or a scowl to settle for a moment upon your brow. It will leave its mark if you do so. Learn to be gentle in your home. Sometimes when far away from home, you picture to yourself how gentle and kind and loving you should be at home. By God's grace you can be just as gentle as you see in the picture you should.

TENDERNESS.

In order for life to be what it should, it must flow from a heart full of tenderness. This is that quality of soul which enables us to give kind attention to others, to be willing and eager to do good, to exercise great carefulness to give no offense, and to be soft and gentle in every expression. Like all other good qualities, this is found in perfection in the character of God. "The Lord is very pitiful and of tender mercy." Because of his pity he never lays upon his trusting child a greater burden than he can bear, and in his tender mercy he always gives to each trial a happy ending.

It will be helpful to study for a few minutes the principle of tenderness as an attribute in the nature of God. "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him." It is the father who sees his little child in deep pain that knows what pity is. It is that feeling which makes the father desirous of bearing all the pain. It was the pity or compassion of God for the lost in sin that caused him to give his only Son to suffer and die for them. When God saw the wretchedness of men, he had such a feeling in his heart that he could find relief in no way but in providing the only means of their rescue. Oh, think of this! The child of God never has a pain or a sorrow but that God has a feeling of pity. The knowledge that some one has pity for us and fellowships our suffering goes far toward alleviating our pains. Recently while I was in deep soul-suffering, I received a letter containing these words: "We suffer in spirit with you." This was a great relief. If in a time of trial we could know how God was suffering with us, it would be a great consolation.

Again, we read, "As one whom his mother comforteth so will I comfort you; and ye shall be comforted in Jerusalem." Who is it that knows not the comfort of a mother? When we hear of a young man's meeting with a sad accident away from home, we have great pity; but when we learn of his mother's having gone to him, we feel better. Ah, the comfort of a mother is surpassed only by the comfort of Jesus. "If Mother were only here!" says the troubled daughter. Nothing else so fittingly represents the nature of the comfort that God gives as the comfort of a mother. O child of God, you will never have a sorrow nor a pain but that the tenderness of God will cause him to come and comfort you. Let us lift up our hearts and praise him for his mercy and comforting love. A mother may forget to comfort her child, but God will never forget.

The tenderness of God is revealed in these touching words: "How often would I have gathered thy children together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings." The imagery is homely, but oh! so impressively sublime. I can not do better than to use here the words of another. "Was ever imagery so homely invested with such grace and such sublimity as this at our Lord's touch? And yet how exquisite the figure itself of protection, rest, warmth, and all manner of conscious well-being in those poor, defenseless, dependent, little creatures, as they creep under and feel themselves overshadowed by the capacious and kindly wing of the mother bird. If wandering beyond hearing of her peculiar call, they are overtaken by a storm or attacked by an enemy, what can they do but in the one case droop and die, and in the other submit to be torn to pieces? But if they can reach in time their place of safety under the mother's wing, in vain will any enemy try to drag them thence. For rising into strength, kindling into fury, and forgetting herself entirely in her young, she will let the last drop of her blood be shed out and perish in defense of her precious charge, rather than yield them to an enemy's talons. How significant all this of what Jesus is and does for his helpless child!" Under his great wing he tenderly, lovingly gathers his little ones and there they are secure. He is a safe retreat.

From the song of Moses we learn still more of God's tender care. "As an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings: so the Lord alone did lead him, and there was no strange god with him." This metaphor beautifully expresses the care and the tenderness of God toward his children. The eagle is noted for her great attachment to her young. Her care is extraordinary. When the little eaglets have attained age and strength to leave the nest and learn to fly, the mother bird bears them up, when weary, on the top of her wing.

These all express to our hearts the wonderful tenderness of God to his children. But there is nothing in the material world that forms a full and perfect analogy for the things in the spiritual world. These are too high.

If we do not have the tenderness of God in our hearts, our life comes short of being a full and true life. The Bible tells us to "be kind one to another, tender-hearted." There is no true holiness of life without tenderness. As we get deeper into God, we become more tender of heart.

There are some things that will prevent this tender-heartedness. Just a little feeling of resentment, a little desire for retaliation, or a secret wish for something to befall those who have done us an injury will callous the heart and harden the affections. When we have been slighted by some one or misjudged, oh, how Satan strives to get us to thinking much about this, and to work a "hurt" feeling into our heart. Even to think about the meanness of others will bring a harshness and coldness into the inner life. That which we condemn in others will, if we think and talk much about it, creep into our own hearts.

You say you are saved and sanctified. Thank God for such a blessed experience; but you have much yet to gain. You have not yet attained to the full depth of anything. There is yet a tenderness of heart you can reach only through many and varied experiences. There is tenderness of voice, tenderness of manner, tenderness of feeling, tenderness of thought, you will attain to only through much and deep communion with God. It is those intimate and familiar talks with Jesus that fashion us into his glorious image. A brother minister related to me a few mornings ago his experience of the night before. He lay awake, he said, for a long time and had a sweet talk with the Lord. So intimate was the communion that, turning over to go to sleep, he said, half unthinkingly, "Good night," as if parting from a dear friend. Such close union with Jesus gives us clearer visions of his character and stamps his beauty upon our souls.

Have you not seen those who are harsh, rough, and unfeeling in their speech and manner. No one wants to be like them. We are glad to get away from them. They measure a person by their standard, and if he is not what they think he should be, they speak about him in an unloving and unfeeling manner. We feel that something coarse and flinty needs to be taken out of their nature. We do not say they are not sanctified, but they are too bitter and severe. They need to be bathed in the love of God; they need to be immersed in the sea of his gentleness. We have seen, on the other hand, those who were so feeling, so quiet, tender, and gentle, that their presence was like the breath of a sweet spring morning. There was a tenderness in their eye, a softness in their voice, a pathos in their feeling, that cast over your soul a sense of delight.

There is much for us to gain. But we can gain it only at the end of the bayonet. If we would win, we must fight. There is no victory without battle. One brother, after gaining a decisive victory, said, "The devil is dead." He was so victorious and free that he thought the devil must be dead. In a short time, however, the brother learned his mistake. The prince of the power of the air still lives, and we still have our humanity. If we are not prayerful and watchful, we become disposed to contend for our way; to feel a little bitter if we are trampled upon. Jesus tells us to "resist not evil." We are not only to not resist evil outwardly, but to have no resisting feeling in our hearts. If we would have holiness of life, we must have tenderness of spirit. If you desire your life to be like the oasis in the desert, where the weary traveler is refreshed, be tender of heart, be compassionate, bear every trial with patience, endure all suffering without a murmur, commune much with God, and he will bring you out into that tenderness of soul that will make your life, everywhere you go, like the atmosphere of heaven.

THE CHRISTIAN WALK.

Life is termed a walk in the Scriptures. Where they say that we ought to walk as Jesus walked, they have reference to our manner of life. The way in which a Christian walks is called the way of life. It is called the way of life because it leads to a land of life--a place where death never enters, where all is life, and life forevermore. The Christian walks in the way that leads to that land of life. There is also a place of death, and the way there is called the way of death.

The way along which the Christian walks is a narrow way. "Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, that leadeth unto life." But we need have no fear; for although it is narrow, it is not dark. "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." I would rather walk in a narrow way in full light than in a broad way in the dark. The Word of God lights up the Christian's pathway. How beautifully the electric lights light up the walks in the city park! There is no danger of stumbling. The Bible is a light along the way of life, and it lights the way beautifully. Not one step need be taken in the dark. There is light for every step of the way. Sometimes the Christian may think he has reached a dark place; but if he will open his Bible, he will find a light to lighten that very spot.

THE CHRISTIAN IS TO WALK CIRCUMSPECTLY.

"See then that ye walk circumspectly." Eph. 5:15. To walk circumspectly is to walk cautiously; to look where one is stepping; to be vigilant, watchful, diligent, attentive. Be our pathway ever so light, if we do not look where we are stepping, we may stumble. Conybeare and Howson render the above text in these words: "See then that ye walk without stumbling." We are to walk not as foolish people but as wise. We would say that the man acts foolishly who does not look at all in the way he is walking. Those who are wise in business walk carefully; they look where they are going; they take advantage of every opportunity to make their business a success. In our Christian walk we are to seize upon every opportunity to make progress. There is no time in this short life for ease. Carelessness and indolence are dangerous and destructive to spirituality. An indolent man will never accomplish much for God nor be of any great benefit to his fellow men. But oh, how easy to become careless!

Many begin the Christian walk in carefulness and diligence, but soon give place to carelessness and neglect. How prone people are to lose interest in anything when the new has worn away! They take great interest in the new preacher, but they will become so familiar with him and so accustomed to him that they will lose interest. They have never heard any one preach so well as the new preacher, and what he says has such weight and authority; but behold, after the new has worn away, he can not preach any better than any other they have no more regard for his words than they have for the words of others. There is an old adage which says, "A new broom sweeps clean." The boy is eager to cut wood with the new ax. A child will carefully write like the copy for the first few lines; but the farther down the page, the greater the carelessness. The young lady takes great interest in the music lessons at first; she wants to practise all the time; but it soon gets old, and then it is hard to keep up an interest. The husband is very loving, kind, and attentive to his wife for a while; but alas! in a little while she becomes old to him, and then he lets her shift for herself. This need not and should not be; but it seems to be the nature of man.

In the Christian life there is a strong tendency to let things run down. Some persons hear a sermon and they are awakened, but they are soon lulled to sleep again. Perhaps the example of some one has shown them that they do not pray enough, and they resolve to pray more, but they soon drift into the same careless way. Maybe they see that they do not read enough and improve themselves, and they are greatly stirred to do better, but alas! how soon they allow that resolution to weaken and become as negligent as ever. Nothing but the greatest diligence and unyielding determination will save us from getting weary in welldoing. Keep up a strong faith. Hold your mansion in the skies well in view and let nothing hinder you in your journey home.

There are professed Christians who, I am sorry to say, never take a good look at their mansion in heaven, and it is to be feared that many who are really God's children do not view their home above as often and distinctly as they should. They see more of temporal things than of eternal things. It is by faith that we see eternal things, but if we have too keen a vision for temporal things, it dims our spiritual vision. If you knew you had a fine home in an adjoining State, and you had never seen it, you would want some one who had seen it to give you a description of it. Perhaps you would want a photograph of it. You would take a look at the picture often, and would learn all about it you could, and would think of the time when you could go and live there. Now, Jesus tells you that he has prepared a mansion for you in heaven. He does not tell you much about it, but you know full well that a mansion that Jesus prepares is perfect and complete. Why not think much about this mansion? why not view it often by faith? why not learn all about it you can? Getting too much engaged with the things of this life is the reason why. To walk circumspectly is to see that every step bears us heavenward, to have our faces set toward God, to have our eternal home in view, and to be journeying that way. We are not to be sauntering along, but to be industriously living for God and heaven.

How often have you decided that you would be more prayerful, would read more, would love God more, and the souls of men, would do more for the cause of God! How often you have decided to walk more worthily of God, to be more patient, to live a higher life, to be slower to speak, to cultivate a spirit of love and kindness, to be more like Jesus! You started out well and with great diligence, but alas! ere long you became weary in well-doing; you became less vigilant; you did not walk so carefully and were less attentive to your way. One day a circumstance occurred that caused a brother to see that he was not as attentive to others as he should be and let many opportunities of helping others in little things go by unimproved. He decided that he would be more watchful, and thus be more helpful; but, as he said, he soon became as negligent as ever. Time after time he resolved and as often became negligent. Do not be discouraged. A little more determination, a little more faith in God for help, and you will triumph.

THE CHRISTIAN'S WALK A WALK WITH GOD.