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The Life Worth While

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The Life
Worth While

By
EDWARD LEIGH PEI \ .

Richmond, Virginia
Robert Harding Company, Inc.

^Publi^heps Weekly

K ^^

THE NLW ;ORK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR. LENOX AND

COPYRIGHT. 1906
BY ROBERT HARDING COMPANY, INC.

Contents

PAGE

I — The Satisfied Soul - - - 9

IT— The Blessed Life - - - j5

III— Not By Bread Alone - - 20

IV — The Most Necessary Thing 26

V — Love the Law of Life - - 33

VI— A Heart at Rest - - - - 42

VII— The Way of Life - - - 47

VIII — The Condition of Service - 53

IX — The Secret of a Fruitful

Life ------- 57

X — The Thing That Counts

With God ----- 61

XI— When a Man is Free - - 65

XII — The Worship of Success - 70

XIII— Making a Choice - - - 74

XIV — My Two Natures - - - 79

XV — The Victorious Life - - 83

Contents — Continued

XVI— A Well Armed Alan - - - 88
X\^II — Consecration vs. Annihila-
tion ------- 93

XVIII— The Source of Power - - 96
XIX— The Lowly in Heart - - - 1 0 1
XX — Heart Questions About

Prayer ------ 107

XXI— Judging Others - - - -114

XXII— How Often Shall I For-
give ? - - - - - - - 1 1 7

XXIII— The Unruly Member - - 121
XXIV— The Hour of Temptation - 128
XXV — Sweetening Our Pleasures - I 33
XXVI— The Grace of Thankful-
ness -------136

XXVII— When the Heart Aches- - 144

XXVIII— In the Day of Doubt - - 148

XXIX — Doubt's Surest Remedy - 161

XXX— In the Hour of Peril - - 165

XXXI— The Limit of Human

Power ------ 169

XXXII— In the Valley of the Shadow 1 73
XXXIII— Comfort in Bereavement - 183

To l^now Him though we cannot understand
Him, even as our children know us hut do not
understand our ways; to be always conscious
that He is, that He is actually with us, that His
eyes melt with tenderness whenever He lool^s
upon us; to recognize Him as our Lord whom
we have enthroned in our hearts forever; to serve
Him and our fellowmen blithely and with a
gentle hand; to k^ep the current of our lives in
the channel of His truth ; and to watch dail^
for the footprints of Him who has gone before
to prepare a place for us— these are aims that
are worthy of all that is loftiest and best in man.
For it is in the fulfilment of these aims that
we shall find life— life eternal; the onl^ satis-
fying life ; the only life worth while.

I

The Satisfied Soul

Man may be defined as the animal that
is hardest to satisfy. The poor woman at
Jacob's well is a fitting type of a world that
drinks its wells dry and never ceases its
thirsty cry. We are all desire. Our flesh
desires much; our minds }earn for more;
our souls — who can fathom the desires of a
man's soul? We yearn, and yearn, and
yearn. We go in quest of pleasure and
come back tired, but never satisfied. We
chase a pleasure as a child chases a butter-
fly, and when we find it we straightway
look for another. And we live in a world

10 The Life Worth While

that is provokingly unsatisfying. It is al-
ways ofTcring to quench our thirst and al-
ways putting to our lips the cup that in-
flames thirst. When the world does its
best it satisfies us but for a moment, and as
-a rule, when we say that we are satisfied
we are only surfeited, as when a child eats
a pound of candy and will have no more.
As for the mind, every truth-seeker knows
that there is no way to quench the thirst
for knowledge except by starvation. The
more we know the more we want to know,
and our craving never ceases until we
cease to know anything. As for the soul,
the world does not seriously attempt to
-satisfy it. It has nothing to quench the
thirst of our immortal part, and it can only
-suggest something to keep our souls wrap-
ped in slumber that they may not be con-
scious of hunger, as a helpless mother
without food for her hungry children tries
Tto get them off to sleep that they may

The Satisfied Soul 1 1

cease to cry. "Whosoever drinketh of this
water," says Jesus — whosoever seeks to
satisfy his thirst at any of the wells that
the world has provided for men — "shall
thirst again." A man may go round the
world and drink deep at every fountain of
pleasure that the world owns, and he may
■come home surfeited, but he will not be sat-
isfied. The world has no drink to satisfy
the thirst of the soul.

And yet the famished multitude is still
spending its money for that which is not
bread, and its labor for that which satisfieth
not. This world is a great fair — a vanity
fair — in which men and women and chil-
•dren jostle one another in their mad rush
to the booths where fakirs sell toy balloons,
and popguns, and firecrackers, and cheap
jewelry, and mysterious prize-boxes — all
warranted to satisfy every craving of the
human heart. How very absurd! Yet,
many of us who think ourselves wiser than

12 The Life Worth While

the crowd are sometimes caught up in the
mad rush, and before we know what we are
doing we too are spending our money for
that which is not bread. My neighbor on
my right was sure that the only thing in
the world he needed to make him per-
fectly happy was a home of his own. But
the home multiplied his wants a hundred-
fold and brought more unrest. My neigh-
bor on my left thought that all he needed
was another ten thousand. But the ten
thousand brought more unrest. My little
girl was confident that the secret of human
happiness was all wrapped up in a "perfect
love" of a new spring hat. But the new
hat brought a craving for another new
dress.

Is it possible to satisfy the human soul?
I know some souls that have surely learned
the secret, for they are no longer feverish
or restless, and whatever befalls them they
are always able to eat their meat with glad-

The Satisfied Soul 1 3

ness and singleness of heart. They have
not found wealth, or honor, or social posi-
tion, but they have found that which has
satisfied them. They have learned that it
is not what a man gathers from without but
what is developed within that determines
his wellbeing. They have learned that the
thirst which men are trying to quench is
not physical or mental, but spiritual, and
they have discovered for themselves that
there is nothing which can satisfy the crav-
ings of a man's spirit but the presence and
friendship of the great Spirit.

And how did they discover the secret?
By listening to the voice of Him who stands
in the temple crying, "If any man thirst let
him come unto me and drink." That is all.
There is nothing that can satisfy spirit but
spirit. It is the testimony of all men who
have come to Christ that "he satisfieth the
longing soul." No man has ever been dis-
appointed in him. No man who has opened

14 The Life Worth While

his heart to him has complained that there
was still an aching void. He meets our
case. He is our sufficiency. He is our
satisfier.

II
The Blessed Life

I have just said that it is not what a man
gathers from without but what he develops
within that determines his well being. Real
blessedness is no more dependent upon
one's outward circumstances than essential
manhood is dependent upon the clothes one
wears. This truth has been verified by the
experience of men from the beginning of
time, yet it comes to many a man to-day as
a genuine sensation. We say, Blessed is
the man who is satisfied with himself. We
envy these men who look so comfortable,
and who pat themselves with the comfor-

16 The Life Worth While

table air of one saying to his soul, "Soul,
thou hast much goods laid up for many
years." There are times when we can grasp
our Lord's view of this sort of thing — in
bereavement, for instance, or when sitting
alone with one's conscience, or under a
melting sermon — but how hard it is to
realize the blessedness of the poor in spirit
when dining with a company of men of
the world who have achieved wealth or
fame? Yet, at a single turn of the wheel
of fortune we may come again to under-
stand how utterly hollow is the happiness
that rests upon the things one gathers about
him.

Blessed is the man that laughs, say we.
Yet who does not know that it is the tear-
less life that is rich in misery? As for the
meek we contend that they will be driven
ofT the face of the earth. Yet as we grow
older we learn little by little that it is not
the man who elbows his way with much

The Blessed Life 1 7

noise and perspiration that makes his way
in the world, but rather it is the man who
quietly bides his time, and often with a
smile gives way to the blustering fellow
who is trying to run over him. If we have
not yet learned that those who hunger and
thirst after righteousness are blessed, we
have surely learned by this time that the
man who never hungers and thirsts after
righteousness remains as empty and dry in
his spirit as a last year's gourd. It is not
the man who is always looking for some-
body to show him mercy but the man who
shows mercy that is blessed. It is not the
man who is peculiarly favored in his sur-
roundings that will see God but the man
with a pure heart. It is not the man who
is descended from Abraham, but the man
who promotes peace that is recognized as a
child of God. And what is all this but
simply another way of saying that it is not
what comes to a man from without but

18 The Life Worth While

what he carries with him in his heart that
makes him truly blessed?

Now the question comes home to us : If
true blessedness is not a matter of outv/ard
circumstances — if it is not a matter of bet-
ter food, better clothes, better social posi-
tion and all that — should we who desire
real happiness give our whole thought and
strength and time to this one thing of try-
ing to improve our material surroundings?
Should we mourn over our material pov-
erty always and over our spiritual poverty
never? Should we be always craving
worldly pleasures and never yearn for any
real spiritual good? Should we spend our
whole time drawing water from a well that
never satisfies, and give no thought to the
ever-springing fountain which Christ is
ready to open up in our hearts? Should
we be always looking for favors rather than
seeking to show mercy? Should we wear
our fingers to the bone trying to keep our

The Blessed Life l^

surroundings clean and never give a
thought to the cleansing of our hearts? If
the rule of Christ in our heart is the only
source of blessedness should we not seek
first the kingdom of God and his righteous-
ness ? Should we not put the kingdom fore-
most in all things ?

Ill
Not By Bread Alone

If outward circumstances have nothing
to do with real happiness what part should
a Christian have in the world's struggle for
what we are accustomed to call the good
things of this life?

I recall that when Jesus spoke of the
evil of consuming one's life in the accumu-
lation of wealth for its own sake he was not
addressing an audience of millionaires. He
was speaking to poor people who had al-
ways been poor, and who were now by rea-
son of a long prevailing financial depres-
sion less likely to become rich men than
ever. They had reached that point in the
struggle for bread where one is liable to

Not By Bread Alone 21

forget that man must not live by bread
alone, and where one is apt to form the
most extravagant notions of wealth. In
other words, they were at the point where
many a man of to-day ordinarily finds him-
self six days in the week. They knew how
hard poverty was, and they reasoned that
wealth must be a soft bed to lie on. "If a
man has money," they must have said, just
as we are saying to-day, "he can do any-
thing ; without money he is a whipped dog."
And so it was to you and me and the
rest of the world's great army of fevered
toilers that Jesus spoke when he said : "The
question of life does not depend upon the
abundance of things which one may pos-
sess. Men have lived nobly and success-
fully without possessions, and men have
added great wealth to their names without
adding either length or breadth to their
lives thereby. Life is more than making
a living, and a man should not wear his

11 The Life Worth While

life away with anxiety over that which is
least, as if one could live by bread alone,
or as if God, who is interested in the life,
could not be trusted to exercise a provi-
dential care over it. Even nature rebukes
your anxiety and points to his loving care.
The ravens which are not able, as you are,
to sow and reap, and which have neither
storehouse nor barn, go about their simple
task of looking for their food, and God
feeds them. How much more are ye better
than the birds ? And the lilies — study them
intently and take the lesson to heart: see
how they grow; they do not toil nor spin
that they may clothe themselves with beau-
tiful garments, and yet I say unto you that
even Solomon, the highest type of magnifi-
cence, in all his glory, was not arrayed like
one of these. If God clothes the lilies how
much more will he clothe you."

One cannot help noticing that the opin-
ion of Solomon's magnificence thus inci-

Not By Bread Alone 23

dentally expressed is as far from asceticism
on the one hand as it is from worldliness
on the other. It is not an expression of
contempt. Jesus did not in one breath
urge men to work and in the next belittle
their workmanship. He was not one of
those who exalt labor and abuse its fruits.
He did not teach that it was a virtue to sow
but a sin to reap. He removed the fruit of
Solomon's labors from the mountain top
where the glamoured world had put it, but
he did not trample it in the dust, nor put
it among thorns or noxious weeds; he
placed it beneath the shadow of one of
God's lilies. No one who has considered
a lily can call that contemptuous treat-
ment.

Holy men of old had compared man to a
flower. "As a flower of the field so he
flourisheth." Jesus took up the familiar fig-
ure and declared that, in the matter of dis-
tinguishing ornament, man is inferior to a

24 The Life Worth While

flower. No man has ever been able to
array himself as gloriously as God arrays a
lily. All these things which we strive and
groan and agonize after, which cost us
sleepless nights and almost bloody sweat,
are not, when we have gotten them, equal
to the robes which are provided for the
helpless lily that does not know how to
strive nor cry. Solomon scoured the earth
to surround himself with magnificence like
an aureola, and when he had spent himself
in the task the result did not equal the
glory with which God, in the meantime,
had arrayed the humble lilies which, tied
down to their narrow homes, could only
keep their hearts wide open to receive what
heaven's thoughtful love might send. Not
that the glory of Solomon was so small,
but that what God does for the humblest
of his creatures is so great. Not that the
workmanship of our hands is despised in
his sight, but that, as compared with what

Not By Bread Alone 25

he does for his helpless ones, it is as an arti-
ficial flower to a real one, a painting to a
sunset. We are not taught to despise the
things which Solomon possessed, but we
are warned that we make a terrible mistake
when we place such an extravagant esti-
mate upon worldly glory that we are will-
ing to neglect our souls and wear ourselves
out in the struggle for it. Better would it
be to leave all the treasures of earth to moth
and rust and thieves than that the soul
should be corroded with care. Better would
it be to starve the body than starve the soul.
But the man who comes to this point
need not look for starvation. For while
man is like a flower in his career, and infe-
rior to a flower in adornment, he is infinite-
ly higher and better than a flower in the
thought of God. If the providence of God
stoops low enough to care for a lily, can
it, in stooping miss the humblest of his
children?

IV
The Mo^ Necessary Thing

Let us now think of little while, in this
chapter and in those which follow, about
some of the things which have to do with
our well being. First we will think of
faith. We place faith foremost not because
it is the greatest thing in the world, for it
is not, but because it is the fundamental
thing — the most necessary thing. The won-
derful achievements of faith and the high
estimate which our Lord placed upon it
have given it an air of mystery, and it is
not an uncommon notion that there is
something magical about it. Yet one has

The Moit Necessary Thing 27

only to put himself for a moment in the
place which Jesus occupies in the presence
of one who has appealed to him for help —
as, for example, the leper, or the centurion
— to see that it is not mysterious at all,
and that its apparently magical power is
the most natural power in the world.

For faith is the point at which weakness
takes hold of strength. A little child stands
before me. She is very beautiful; she is
winsome; she is good; she has many
charming traits. But the little thing is in
distress and she has come to me for help.
And she appeals to me in a way that shows
that she has the utmost confidence not only
in my power to help her, but in my wil-
lingness to help her. She has come trust-
ing me impHcitly. Now, what do I see in
this child? What is the thing that gets
hold of my heart and draws me to her? Is
it her beauty? her winsome ways? her
goodness? Is it not the fact that she is

28 The Ufc Worth While

trusting me? And it makes little differ-
ence what she asks — I will go through fire
and flood rather than that she should trust
me in vain.

"Like as a father pitieth his children, so
the Lord pitieth them, that fear him." Men
talk of the unreasonableness of faith, but
what is more reasonable than that God
should be touched by the cry of those who
trust in him? I do not say that this is all
there is in faith, but this is enough to ac-
count for its drawing power. If you and I
will answer the appeal of faith that comes
to us from another man's child, how much
more will our Father in heaven answer the
appeals of faith which his own children
make to him ! .

I have said that faith is the most natural
power in the world. And it is the most
necessary power. It is the motive power
that runs the world. Without faith the
wheels of the world would stand still. We

The Mo^ Necessary Thing 29

never do anything without faith except in
our insane moments when we are moved
by sheer animal impulse. Take faith out
of the world and there would be no life;
there would be only stagnation, cold boil-
ers, dead wires, death. Take faith out of
business and there would be a world-panic
as soon as the wires could carry the news.
Take faith out of the home and you would
have left — perdition. Take faith out of so-
ciety and every man would snatch up his
gun and take to the woods, each seeking
some retreat in which he could barricade
himself against the whole world. The thing
that makes the world beautiful and happy
is love. But the thing that makes the world
endurable is faith. Faith is the most neces-
sary thing in the world.

Perhaps there is no grander spectacle in
all ancient history than that of Abram the
Chaldean leaving home and friends, and at
the command of heaven striking out across

30 The Life Worth While

the country for an unknown land with no
assurance that he would ever have a home
again — striking out through the dark ''not
knowing whither he went." It is the grand-
eur of courage, we say sometimes; and
again, the grandeur of implicit obedience.
But no, it is the grandeur of faith; for it
was his faith that gave him the courage and
the will to obey.

That picture of the father of the faitliful
overwhelms us like a glimpse of a great
mountain. We feel small. We feel so
weak. There are two things we are always
crying out for — courage to obey, and the
will to obey. We see the right and we want
to walk in it, but our worldly friends — what
will they say? We see our duty and we
want to perform it, and the spirit is willing
but the flesh is so weak. When we look
for courage our hands tremble and our
hearts grow faint. I said we want to walk
in the right way, and we want to do our

The Mo^ Necessary Thing 31

duty; perhaps I should have said we have
a desire, though we have net the will. We
lack the power to obey. And so we cry out
for courage, and we cry out for the spirit
of obedience; and we are still cowards,
and still disobedient. What is the trouble ?
If Abram's faith had been small would he
have had the courage to say to his friends
that Heaven had commanded him to go to
an unknown country ? Could he have faced
their ridicule ? Could he have passed by in
silence their suspicions of his sanity?
Would he have had the courage to go at
all? If his faith had been small would he
have had the will to go? Would he have
been strong to obey? Would he have
cared whether he obey or not? But having
faith he had both courage and the spirit of
obedience; and he had all that he needed.
Having faith he could obey, and in obeying
he drew God to himself to be his protector,
to stand by him, to favor those who fav-

32 The Life Worth WhUe

ored him, to punish those who sought to
hurt him. Having faith in God he became
the friend of God.

And so this is my need — to have faith in
God. How can I cultivate the little faith
that I have? I notice that I have believed
in him more since I have learned him bet-
ter. If, then, I learn him better still — if I
read more about him in his Word, if I com-
mune with him oftener, if I listen more
earnestly to his voice, if I follow more
closely his will, if I get closer to his heart —
will I not believe in him better still?

V
Love The Law of Life

I have said that faith is the motive power
that runs the world. But it would not be
worth while for the world to run at all if
there were no love. For love is the thing
that makes life worth living. It is the very
•essence of the real life — the life of the spirit.
It is the spirit what the breath is to the
l)ody. There is no spiritual life without it.
There is no good without it, for God is
love; and a thing is good only as it ap-
proaches the likeness of God.

In his wonderful "charity" chapter Paul
teaches us that whatever else we may have,

34 The Life Worth While

if our hearts are not saturated with love,
we are nothing. Love is the fulfilling of the
law — the law of God, the law of life, the law
of all good. Love is the thing that secures
for us all that is beautiful in life and pre-
serves us from all that is ugly and that
makes us wretched. For example, it is pa-
tient with the faults of others, and keeps
us from the discomfort of worrying over
other men's weaknesses. It never envies,
and therefore keeps us from much un-
speakable misery. It never thinks too much
of self, is never puffed up, and therefore
keeps us from all danger of being hu-
miliated. It never behaves itself unseemly^
and therefore saves us from the unhappy
consequences of acting the fool. It is not
always seeking its own and making us
miserably selfish. It is not easily pro-
voked, and therefore saves us from those
outbreaks of temper that make so many of
us unhappy. It does not suspect men, and

Love The Law of Life 35

so saves us from losing faith in humanity.
It never takes delight in iniquity — a sen-
sation which a man never has without be-
coming more of a fiend than he was before.
It finds joy in the progres of the truth. It
bears and endures all things. It looks on
the best side, and believes in the best that's
in men. And it never ceases to hope.

Great is love, for great is God. How
may we come into possession of this gieat
gift ? The answer is plain : By opening our
hearts to God who is love. If we will lay
ourselves entirely upon his altar, if we will
receive him wholly into our hearts, he will
come in and take possession of us. And
when he is in possession, love will be in
possession.

But love is not a wild flower that best
thrives beyond the touch of human hands.
It is rather a rose that grows on to perfec-
tion in proportion to the intelligent, sympa-
thetic care that is bestowed upon it. If

36 The Life Worth While

love grows somebody must be the garden-
er. We must cultivate it. We must con-
tinue to cultivate it. There will never
come a time when we can safely lay it by
and leave it to care for itself.

What can I do to cultivate my love ? Did
you ever watch the development of love in
the baby in your home? Your baby does
not begin loving by loving everybody. He
begins by loving his mother. And he
begins loving his mother only after she has
gently with her own hands, as it were,
opened up his little heart to hers. Now
watch love grow. When the mother is sure
that her own image has found a place in the
little heart she has opened, she brings be-
fore that open heart day by day father,
sister, brother, until the little one begins
to love father and sister and brother. Then
she begins to tell him about God, and by
and by there comes before his little heart
some vision of God that makes him as real

Love THe Law of Life 37

as the face of his father, and he begins to
love God. How does the baby learn to love
mother, father, sister, brother, God? By
learning them. By finding them out. By
learning them better and better. It is a mat-
ter of association — association with mother,
father, sister, brother; association with the
thought of God which the mother keeps
continually before him. Break up this asso-
ciation and the baby's love will grow cold.
He may even cease in time to love his
mother if she is taken out of his sight and
her name is never uttered in his presence.

It is in association that love is formed,
and by association that love grows.

So, if you and I want to love our fellow-
men more we must associate with them
more. We must learn them better. We
must discover how lovable they are. We
must learn how worthy they are of our con-
fidence. And if we want to love God we
must associate with him more. We must

38 The Life Worth While

learn him better. God has given us his
Book in which to learn about him. He has
given us this larger book — the book of na-
ture— and on every leaf and every blade of
grass he has written a chapter that tells of
his love. What use do I make of my
Bible ? Do I read it to find out more about
God? — to learn him better? Or do I read
it only for conscience sake, or out of re-
spect for the memory of my mother who
taught me to read it? What use do I make
of the place of secret prayer — my meeting
place with God? Do I go to it to seek
his presence that I may know him better,
or do I go to it merely to ''say" my pray-
ers? Do I cultivate God as I cultivate
those whom I want to know better and
love better? Do I value his companion-
ship ? Shall I cultivate the neighbor whom
I want to know better and stand afar off
from God and expect him to perform some

Love The Law of Life 39

Strange miracle that will help me to love
him more?

But is there nothing more that you and
I can do to strengthen our love for God
and for our fellowmen ? Yes ; we can give
expression to the love we already have.
And this, it seems to me, is what we need
to do most of all just now. O friend, let
love have its way in your life. What though
that way may seem foolish and extravagant
to loveless hearts ! Loveless hearts are not
our judges ; God is our judge and God is
love. Let love have its way. There is
little enough of it in the world anyway,
and if we repress the little we have there
will soon be none at all. For love lives on
loving deeds and loving words. Loving
words, I mean, not merely sentimental
words but words that are backed up by
loving deeds.

Let love have its way in your heart. If
it impels you to some great deed do it.

40 The Life Worth While

Don't sit down and count the cost. Love
has little liking for arithmetic. It despises
your bargain counters. It will do things
with a grand sweep or not at all. It is the
only impulse we can afford always to fol-
low. Love, I mean ; not mere gushing sen-
timent. This may impel you to foolish
things, but love never does. Love, I mean,
the kind of love that God has for you and
me, and the kind that you and I have for
him in our highest moments.

Let love have its way. Let the loving
Marys pour out their hearts in precious
gifts, and let no loveless Judases rebuke
him. Never mind what the cold world
says about it: if we repress our love out
of respect for the cold world the cold world
will freeze. We must warm the world back
to life with our love. For this is what is
the matter with the world to-day — there is
so little love. And there is little love be-
cause we make so little use of the love we

Love The Law of Life 41

have. Yonder is a man, who, a year ago
took for granted that his wife ought to
know his love for her without his telling
her, and gradually left ofT expressing it
either by words or deeds. To-day there is
little love left in his heart to express. Over
there is a boy, who, in the awkward, fool-
ish years that must come to all boys, be-
came ashamed to kiss his mother. He
stopped, and to-day there is not enough
love left to make him ever want to kiss her
again. And yonder is a man who has
smothered his impulse to show his love for
God by some great sacrifice, some great
deed of endurance, some hard, painful task ;
and now he is never moved to do anything
for God. Oh, if we would only give ex-
pression to the love we have, how much
more love we would have to express !

VI.
A Heart At Reft

It is a common notion that peace is a
pearl hidden in the path of Hfe, which
some men dig for and others stumble upon.
There are good people who wish for good
luck that they might find this pearl in the
road. They make themselves miserable
looking for it. They strive and cry and
their voices are heard in the streets for
peace. But there is no peace. Into their
storm-tossed lives no quiet ever comes. And
yet all through the Bible there are prom-
ises of peace for those who serve the Prince
of Peace. "The Lord will bless his people

A Heart At Re^ 43

with peace"; and again, 'The work of
righteousness shall be peace, and the effect
of righteousness, quietness and assurance
forever." Search the Book through and
you will nowhere find that the Lord will
afflict his people with worry, or that the
work of righteousness is fret and care, and
the effect of righteousness a long face and
a turbulent life forever.

What is the secret of a Hfe of peace ?

Of course the first essential is to make
friends with the Prince of Peace. We must
have a sense of pardon. "Therefore being
justified by faith we have peace with God
through our Lord Jesus Christ." But if the
Prince of Peace is to come to our hearts
we must give him a quiet place to dwell in.
We must cultivate a peaceful frame of mind.
If the peace of God is to keep our minds
we must keep the peace. There are people
who pray for peace who do not know what
it is to hold their minds for a moment.

44 The Ufe Worth Wh^e

They are constantly committing crimes
against the peace and dignity of the king-
dom. They court a disturbance. They are
never so happy as when they are distracted,
or when they have run somebody else dis-
tracted. They do not cultivate peaceful
ways. They go plunging along without a
thought of anybody else's toes ; they stand
for their rights rather than for right; they
never keep their side of the walk ; they
must always have the last word. They
pray for peace and refuse to budge an inch
to escape a quarrel. They expect peace,
but never try to pacify themselves or any-
body else.

If peace is to dwell within we must do
what we can to keep the peace without. If
we are to "be at peace with God we must
strive to live peaceably with all men. And
we must cultivate the art of peacemaking.
A man never gets less peace than he makes
for others.

A Heart At Re^ 45

Again, if peace is to dwell within we
must make room for it. Many a man has
no peace mainly because of the crowded
condition of his heart. Here is a heart that
belongs to God. God's altar alone has a
right there. While the affections are wholly
fixed upon God there is peace. But in an
evil hour there is erected by this altar an
altar to Mammon. When Mammon comes
in at the door peace flies out at the window.
It is inevitable. When a man tries to wor-
ship God and money at the same time, he
is on the verge of brain fever. When he
erects a third altar — an altar to fame, or
appetite — the conflict becomes a ceaseless
torment. It is this that keeps many a man
tossing at night when he ought to be asleep.
Nothing under heaven or in heaven can
bring peace into our lives while the strange
altars remain.

It is only when we have made room in
our hearts that we have an opportunity to

46 The Life Worth While

test the promise, "Thou wilt keep him in
perfect peace whose mind is staid on thoe."
There is little that can disturb a man whose
thoughts are continually of God. "I will
both lay me down in peace and sleep ; for
thou Lord only makest me dwell in safety."
Whatever we may do, we will never rest
quietly until we are conscious that the Lord
is around about us as the walls are around
about Jerusalem.

VII
The Way of Life

The highest place In the kingdom of God
is the place nearest to God. He is nearest
to God whose thoughts, desires and plans
revolve closest about God — who is most
entirely given up to the service of God.
The farthest point from God is the point
where a man sets up a god of his own. He
who revolves around self, who is given up
to self-indulgence or to selfish interests,
has made a god of self and is therefore be-
yond the bounds of the kingdom of heaven.
It is just as impossible to cherish self and
God too as it is to revolve around two wide-

48 The Life Worth While

ly separated points at the same time. He
who would be exalted in Christ's kingdom
must renounce self and devote himself
wholly to the service of Christ. It is not
the best office-seeker but the most faithful
servant who stands nearest his throne.

It is not a matter for argument. It is a
truth which lies deep in the world's con-
sciousness. There is nothing which men
so heartily despise as selfishness — in other
people ; and there is nothing quite so beau-
tiful in the eyes of the world as an unseifish
spirit — in other people. The reign of sel-
fishness means the destruction of all that is
good and beautiful. A selfish child is re-
pulsive, though it may have the face of a
Madonna. There is absolutely no substi-
tute for an unselfish spirit. The self-seek-
ing habit makes us miserable and makes
everybody around us miserable. The unsel-
fish heart is a fountain of joy that is con-
stantly overflowing upon the hearts within

The Way of Life 49

its reach. What a benediction to the home
is the unselfish child in the midst! If sel-
fishness is outlawed in the kingdom of this
world, how much more in the kingdom of
God.

The way to life, Jesus tells us, is not
through selfishness but through self-sacri-
fice. The way to honor is through hu-
mility. The way to authority is through
service. He who saves himself — who counts
himself very precious — comes to nothing.
He who counts not his life dear unto him-
self lives forever.

Even nature testifies to this great truth.
Suppose a grain of wheat, for example,
should choose to save itself. Suppose it
should settle down in some safe, sunny
place out of reach of hungry mouths, de-
termined to preserve its golden coat and to
dwell in peace and comfort. What would
become of it ? It would simply abide alone.
It would not multiply itself, it would do no

50 The Life Worth Wh^e

good, and it would eventually come to
naught. So long as it cherished itself — sa
long as it sought its own comfort — it would
be nothing but a grain of wheat. It would
not live; it would simply exist. But sup-
pose one day there should come to this
little grain of wheat the ambition to be
something, and to do something — the am-
bition to live, to go abroad, to spread itself
out, to clothe the fields in beauty, to feed
men, to save life, to comfort the world.
What course must it pursue ? Is there any
way but the way of death? Would it not
have to humble itself and drop into the
ground, and allow itself to be covered up
and lost sight of and forgotten and effaced
— would it not have to endure the dark-
ness, the dampness, the loathsomeness of
the grave.

How can I turn away from selfishness?
There is but one way. Sometimes we say,
"I am going to give up this selfish habit;

The Way of Life 51

I am going to give up all selfish indul-
gence ;" but before the day is over we have
forgotten our resolution and we are as
selfish as ever. The secret of our failure
is in trying to turn away from selfishness
without turning toward anything. We can-
not turn away from everything. To turn
away from one thing efifectually, we must
turn to another. If we would turn from
seeking our own interests, we must turn to
seek the interests of another. If w^e would
turn from self, we must turn to God. If
we will make him the center of our
thoughts, our desires and our plans — if we
will revolve around him day by day, we
will not need to be concerned about our
selfish habits; we will have no selfish
habits.

But can we do this by our own strength?
By no means. But when we come to this
point we have an offer of strength. If a
man would simply give up self-seeking, he

52 The Life Worth While

must depend on himself; but if he would
turn from self to God, he may be sure of
help from God.

VIII.
The Condition of Service

The great condition of service is love.
The highest preparation for service is love.
Other things are needful but love is the es-
sential. It is the one necessary thing.
The Master did not say to Peter, "If you
have a good common-school education,"
or "If you have had special theological
training," or "If you have had unusual op-
portunities in life," or "If you occupy such
and such a social position," or "If you can
arrange your business affairs so that you
can give your time to my cause ;" he simply
asked, "Do you love me?" If Simon loved

54 The Life Worth While

him, then Simon could feed his lambs.
What a world of encouragement there is
here for the poor and the weak among the
followers of Jesus. This or that talent may
or may not help us to be of service to Jesus,
but if we have love we can serve him,
whatever we may lack. And so we do not
need to take an inventory of our posses-
sions or our opportunities to determine
whether we can be of any service to Christ.
We have only to take an inventory of our
hearts. Have we love in our hearts for
him? Love alone may not enable us to
preach eloquent sermons, or to do this or
that particular form of service, but love
will enable us to serve the Master in some
way that will be acceptable to him, and that
is all we need to know about it. We may
always be sure that, whatever may be our
condition or our circumstances, if we real-
ly love Christ we can be of some sort of
service in his kingdom.

The Condition of Service 55

We can be and we may be. It is our
privilege. Love for Qirist gives us a right
to serve him. If we love him, it matters not
what may be our standing in the world,
we have a right to be in his service ; we
have a right to a place in his vineyard. We
may not have a right to this or that par-
ticular place, but we have a right to a
place. He may choose a high pulpit for
the eloquent man who loves him; he may
choose an honorable place in a hospital for
the talented nurse who loves him ; he may
not care to use us in either of these places,
but if we love him we have a right to some
place in his service. If we love him, we
may serve him.

And not only may, but must. Love
brings its privileges, and it also brings its
responsibilities. If I love Jesus my love
not only gives me power to serve him,
and I not only have the privilege of serving
him, but it is my duty to serve him. Love

56 The Life Worth While

is compelling. It not merely impels us to
give this or that for Jesus ; it compels us.
The moment we refuse to obey the demands
of love, that moment we begin to lose our
love. If we love Christ and there are
lambs — little ones, weak ones — to be fed,
we must feed them. We cannot keep our
love for Christ and not feed them. We
must feed them or starve our own hearts.
If we do feed them, we will feed our love.
Love feeds the spirit of obedience, and
obedience feeds love. The more we love
Christ the more we will obey him, and
the more we obey him, the more we will
love him.

IX

The Secret of a Fruitful Life

If we have a single worthy aim it is to be
saved from an unfruitful life. We have a
horror of barrenness here as we have a hor-
ror of annihilation hereafter. In our better
moments we feel that we would rather die
than live at a poor dying rate, though in
our ordinary moments we may be living at
that rate. We detest the unfruitful man —
the sluggard, the non-producer, the para-
site— the dehumanized vagabond who does
nothing because he is nothing. Where is
the man with soul so dead who never to
himself hath said, "Heaven helping me, I'll
never be an encumbrance !"

58 The Life Worth While

''Now," says Jesus, *'if you will abide in
me I will save you from a barren existence.
I will be to you as a vine to its branches;
I will supply you with life, and life in such
abundance that the making of fair blossoms
in the shape of promises and plans will not
-exhaust it, but you will be able to bring
forth fruit to maturity."

Here, then, is opened before us the way
to the realization of our highest ambition.
And it is the only way. ''Severed from
me," says Jesus, "you can do nothing. If
you abide not in me you will be as helpless,
as lifeless, as fruitless as a cut branch King
upon the ground." There is no other alter-
native. If we abide in Christ we shall bear
fruit because he will supply us with life in
such abundance that it will overflow in the
form of the fruits of the Spirit — love, joy,
peace, long-sufifering, and the rest — and in
the form of good works. Our fingers will
be restless with desire to work for him ; our

The Secret of a Fruitful Life 59

ieet to carry messages for him. If we do
not abide in him our efforts to be fruitful
will be as futile as would be the efforts of
a severed branch of the vine to bring forth
grapes.

How can we abide in him? If we have
accepted him as our Savior and Lord, if
-we are resting on him, trusting him in all
things and for all things, if our hearts are
open wide to him so that his life may find
its way through our whole being, then we
are already abiding in him and he in us. If
this intimate relation is to continue un-
broken several things are necessary. In
the first place we must take the fact of our
position into account in all of our conduct.
We must ''reckon" ourselves branches of
the vine. If you have just grafted a twig
upon a tree you will so reckon it ; you will
be governed by the fact in your subsequent
dealings with that twig. You will not hang
a heavy weight upon it, nor will you pull

60 The Life Worth While

it off and try to make it bear fruit by itself.
You will have regard for the fact of its
position. So in all our conduct we must
have regard for the fact of our position as
branches in the vine. In the second place
we must have regard for the means of grace
which help to keep the channels of com-
munication open. We must open the Book
and read Christ's word, and open our
hearts to receive the word we read; and
we must not only thus have him speak to
us but we must speak to him. In the third
place — and this is the condition upon which
our Lord lays so much stress — we must
continually obey him in love. If we are
disobedient we are disloyal, and it is absurd
to suppose that Jesus will set up his throne
in a disloyal heart. Unless we love him
with a love that obeys we can have no part
with him.

_ X

The Thing That Counts with God

With God the thing- that counts is char-
acter. We are always trying to persude
ourselves that it is something else. When
you and I were little children we thought
that God would not let us perish because
■''it's me;" and somehow somewhat of that
feeling clings to us yet. We feel that it is
the "me" that counts. It has clung to the
world from the beginning. Each race has
felt that it was God's favorite race. Each
family in a race has felt that it was God's
favorite family. Each man in a family has
felt that he was God's favorite man. We

62 The Life Worth While

Anglo-Saxons have indulged this conceit
until we have become almost absurd in
our own eyes. We are sure that we are the
people, and that wisdom will die with us;,
that we live at that particular spot on earth
upon which the eyes of God always rest;
that we are the peculiar favorites of God
because we are white in our faces, without
regard to the color of our hearts, and be-
cause we have Saxon blood in our veins,
without regard to the condition of our
blood. Reason about it with ourselves as
we may we cannot quite bring ourselves to-
believe that God at this particular moment
may be just as deeply interested in the
black man or the brown man or the yellow
man or the red man as he is in the white
man. We cannot imagine how he can
spend much time over the Eskimo or the
Chinaman or the Fijian. We take for
granted that his thoughts are with the
Anglo-Saxons, and we are not quite sure

The Thing That Counts with God 63

but that his thoughts are more particularly
with the Anglo-Saxons on this side of the
sea.

Not being very sure of our character we
like to think that other things than char-
acter count with God. We like to remem-
ber our social position sometimes, and our
family history. We persuade ourselves that
we cannot perish because we have such
good mothers — that we will be saved be-
cause of our mothers' prayers, or because
we live in a land of Bibles and gospel privi-
leges and go to Sunday-school and to
church and have been baptized and have
had our names enrolled upon the church
book, and all that.

But God is no respecter of persons. "Man
looketh on the outward appearance, but
God looketh on the heart." Whatever a
man may be, wherever he may live, what-
ever may be his position in life, if he has
character — if he fears God and keeps his

64 The Life Worth WhUe

commandments as he knows them — that
man stands before God with as good an
opportunity to reach the ear of God and to
obtain the friendship and favor of God as
he who has on his side all those things
which cause the world to respect a man.

If a man has character he is an approved
candidate for the favor of the Lord.

XI
When a Man is Free

"The truth shall make you free." But
not truth as it is popularly understood, nor
freedom as the Jews who listened to Jesus
understood it. Jesus was accustomed to
think on a high plane, and to use words in
their higher meanings. He does not mean
to say that what people ordinarily call
truth in their everyday talk will make a
man free indeed. We hear much of the
scientist's search after truth. Every scientist
regards himself as a truth-seeker, though
lie may be only seeking to know the truth
about bugs. But one may spend his life

66 The Life Worth WhUe

learning the truth about bugs and every
other material thing up to the stars, and
yet gain no freedom except freedom from
ignorance about material things. Indeed^
we have seen enthusiasm for material truth
utterly enslave a man, and so unfit him for
the duties of life that he became a charge
on his wife's hands. Jesus was speaking
of the truth which came down from heaven
— the eternal verities; the deep thoughts
of God; the great truths about God and
man, of man's relation to God, of God's
love for man and his plans to save man —
in a word, the things which the Master
came from heaven to teach. "If ye con-
tinue in these things," he says, "if ye receive
these words of mine in your hearts and
lives, and let them abide in you and work
in you, then ye shall know the truth and
the truth shall make you free."

There is nothing in the knowledge of
material truth to deliver a man out of

When a Man is Free 67

spiritual bondage. Material truth has de-
livered men out of material bondage — it
has set men to inventing labor-saving ma-
chinery, and doing things according to the
best methods, and thus delivered them from
being hewers of wood and drawers of
water ; but it has never broken the smallest
thread that has helped to hold the soul
down. A man may become a walking cy-
clopedia and remain a slave to sin. There
is nothing in human experience to encour-
age the idea that man is to be saved by
education. He that would be delivered out
of material bondage must learn material
truth, but he that would be delivered fiom
spiritual bondage must learn spiritual
truth. Learn the truth about material
things — learn the great laws of the material
world — and you shall be free from the slav-
ery of superstition and hard, primitive
modes of living. Learn the truth about the
moral universe — the great laws of the

68 The Life Worth WMe

spiritual world — and you shall be free from
the slavery of sin; and then you shall be
free indeed.

But let there be no mistake. The free-
dom which Jesus promises is the higher,
spiritual freedom, just as the truth he
speaks of is the higher, spiritual truth. He
does not promise that if we will become his
disciples he will free us from physical bond-
age— though the tendency of the gospel is
to break chains of every sort. He does not
promise to deliver us from the bondage of
physical suffering or poverty or skeletons
in the family closet — though he often does
deliver men from each and all of these
things. He does not promise to take us
away from our present surroundings so
that we will have no temptation to sin. But
he does promise to deliver us from the
power of sin, that we may rise above all
these things even to the point of glorying
in our infirmities.

When a Man is Free 69

And remember, it is not the truth by it-
self— the abstract truth — that shall make us
free ; it is the Son of Man who by the truth
shall make us free. "If the Son, therefore,
shall make you free, ye shall be free in-
deed."

XII
The Worship of Success

The god of yesterday was money. The
god of to-day is success. Within a de-^ade
men have come to worship success n.ore
than money. They would rather succeed in
what they undertake — rather "get there,"
rather be known as a "winner" — than be
rated at a milUon. Of course, most of us
like both. We would rarher succeed in
getting money than in getting anything
else; but the standard we have set up for
ourselves is success, and we would rather
succeed in whatever we undertake than
anything else, whether the undertaking is
for money or not.

The Worship of Success 71

Is this new god we have set up any im-
provement on the old? Are we not in as
great danger in worshiping success as we
have been in worshiping money? Is suc-
cess the true aim of life? Is it not better
to fail sometimes than to succeed always?
Is the successful game always worth the
candle? Is success the true measure oi a
man?

It is well to pause and look at this matter
from the standpoint of God himself as we
have it in his Word. Take the case of
David, for example. David wanted to build
God a house. It did not coincide with Je-
hovah's plans and he did not build it. He
failed in a thing that lay very near to his
heart. But God honored him as highly as
if he had carried out his heart's desire. He
honored him for what he wanted to do,
for what he purposed to do, for what he
would have done if he could. God wants
us to succeed in many of our undertakings.

72 The Life Worth While

but he would not have us look at achieve-
ment as the true aim of life. The highest
aim is not to come out a winner but to be
faithful to the end. It is not so much what
a man does as how he behaves in trying to
do it. If he is faithful to God, if he would
rather be right than be President, if he is
faithful to his fellowmen, if he is faithful to
his highest impulses, if he utterly refuses
to sacrifice a principle or a friend or even
an enemy that he may gain his end, it is not
a great matter whether he achieves or not.
He has succeeded in being a man if he has
not succeeded in his undertaking. A man
may succeed and be a great failure. A man
may fail and be a great success. Moses
failed to reach Canaan, but nobody calls
Moses a failure. Nero succeeded in hav-
ing his own way, but nobody calls Nero
a success. Men have tried to be President
and have failed and have gone down to
their graves as America's greatest sue-

The Worship of Success 73*

cesses. Men have tried to be President andl
succeeded and gone down to their graves —
not as America's greatest successes.

Let us engrave on our hearts the prec-
ious truth that it is the privilege of every
man, whatever his talents or opportunities,
to be faithful; that he who is faithful is a
success whether he succeeds in his under-
takings or not ; that success is never worth
achieving at the expense of one's faithful-
ness ; that if one succeeds who has not been
faithful the golden apple will turn to ashes
between his teeth; that if he fails, having
been faithful, he has the consciousness of
the friendship of Him to whom he has been^
faithful.

XIII
Making A Choice

To live is to choose. It is not a matter
of choice whether one shall choose or not.
We are continually coming to places where
two roads meet, and we must choose be-
tween them. We may choose what we will,
but we cannot choose not to choose.

The great question on the threshold of
life is. What shall I choose? Suppose God
should come and spread out before me all
the treasures of heaven and earth — what
would I choose ? What ought I to choose ?
Certainly common sense teaches me that I
ought to choose that which will satisfy me

Making a Choice 75

longest and that which I can never possibly
regret. Now suppose we take these two
rules and measure some of the things which
are set before us.

First, there is fame. There are two ques-
tions to ask about fame : Will it satisfy me
longer than anything else? Is it a choice
which I can never possibly regret? These
two questions are easily answered. I have
never known a man who had achieved
fame that did not feel in his latter years
that the game was not worth the candle —
that he had paid too dearly for his whistle.
And I have never known a man who had
struggled for fame who did not regret at
some time that he had not chosen another
sphere of life. A man enters politics to
become famous. In the struggle which
follows he neglects his own private afifairs
and becomes overwhelmed with debt. Then
he realizes that instead of becoming famous
he is in imminent danger of becoming in-

76 The Life Worth Whae

famous, and he begins to say to himself,
that he would rather have money than all
the fame in the world. He is sure that if
a man has money he can do anything.

But suppose I choose money? Will
money satisfy me longer than anything
else? Is the pursuit of wealth a choice
which I can never possibly regret. A man
who feels that money is king starts out to
earn it by hook or by crook. And he earns
it by hook and crook. He thinks that if
he can get enough money he can do any-
thing, but in the struggle he brings a stain
upon his name and his family is ostracized.
Then he struggles harder, not because he
cares for money, but because he hopes that
if he can get a little more the world will be
persuaded that his wife and children are
respectable, and give him the social posi-
tion he so much desires. He would rather
be accounted respectable than have all the
money in the world, and he dies regretting

Making a Choice 11

that instead of starting out to get rich he
had not started out to secure the respect of
his fellowman.

But suppose I choose social position?
Will it satisfy me longer than anything
else? Is the pursuit of a high place in so-
ciety a choice which I can never possibly
regret? It all looks very beautiful at a dis-
tance but who that has risen to that exclu-
sive circle that soars far above the heads
of ordinary people, has not grown weary
of its demands, weary of its shallowness,
weary of its heartlessness, and has longed
for some obscure quiet spot where he could
dwell under his own vine and fig-tree with
none to molest or make him afraid?

There are a dozen other things which
one might choose — not one that will con-
tinue to satisfy ; not one the choice of which
we will not eventually regret — if we choose
it as the chief thing. Among all the
treasures spread out before mortal man

78 The Life Worth While

there is but one that will satisfy him for-
ever, one the choice of which (as the chief
thing) he can never regret.

What is this one Supreme Treasure?

If I choose Christ as my savior and lord
— if I open my heart to him ; if I enthrone
him in my heart as my king;^ if I allow
myself to be dominated by him — I shall
be satisfied, and I shall be satisfied for-
ever. It matters not what may happen,
the Spirit-filled life is the one continually
satisfying thing. And since the beginning
of time no man who has made this choice
has ever been known to regret it.

XIV

My Two Natures

Here are two natures, the flesh and the
spirit — the lower nature that is given up to
the gratification of the senses, and the high-
er nature that reaches out after spiritual
things. These two natures are utterly con-
trary to each other. They cannot dwell
together; they have nothing in common
with each other. To feed the one is to
starve the other. To lift up the one is to
pull down the other. One must rule su-
preme, and the question which every man
must decide is which one. Shall I look
after my lower nature — follow where it

?80 The Life Worth While

leads, seek to fulfill its desires — or shall I
give myself to my higher nature?

Paul says that I am not a debtor to my
lower nature; what I owe, I owe to the
higher. "I am a debtor not to the flesh,
but to the spirit." He does not mean to
say that I do not owe food to my body,
that I should not take care of my body, but
that I am under no obligation whatever
to gratify the tendencies of my lower na-
ture. Why should I gratify these tenden-
cies when they all lead to death? Why
should I give myself up to that which must
•die, and which must eventually bring me to
eternal death ? I have no obligation in this
direction. There is no reason in the world
why I should give myself up to the grati-
fication of the desires of my lower nature.
My lower nature is my enemy. It pulls me
downward. If I follow where it leads it
will eventually lead me down to eternal
death.

My Two Natures 81

On the other hand my spiritual nature —
this spirit within me which yearns/ after the
spiritual — is my friend. Its tendency is up-
ward. It aspires after the Great Spirit. It
is the best of me. My lower nature is
death. My higher nature is life. It reaches
out after God ; and when my spirit is united
with the Spirit of God, all its aspirations
and movements are toward God and to-
ward eternal good. Following the desires
of my lower nature I shall find death ;
following the aspirations of my higher na-
ture I shall find life. If God so loved me
as to give his Son to come down into the
world and condemn this lower nature, and
put his Spirit in my heart, and give me
power to gain the victory over this lower
nature, and to live according to his Spirit,
and to become a son of God, then surely
all my obligations are toward my higher
nature. The business of my life is to feed
my higher nature. The business of my life

82 The Ufc Worth While

is to mind the things of the Spirit and not
the things of the flesh ; to think the highest,
noblest thoughts ; to aspire after the high-
est things ; to walk after the pattern which
God has given me in the life of his Son ;
to give myself up to thinking, feeling, as-
piring, acting on the highest spiritual plane.
He who does this is a son of God. So
long as I follow the tendencies of my lower
nature I am a slave, and the chains tighten
about me as I go on downward. If I will
let Christ come into my heart ; if I will turn
my back upon sin ; if I will choke to death
these lower desires ; if I will open my
heart to be led by the Spirit of God — he
will not only set me free, but he will adopt
me as his own son. "For as many as are
led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons
of God."

XV
The Vidorious Life

Here are two young men who have
started out to be Christians. They are both
honest in their purpose and equally in ear-
nest. Both go regularly to church and
Sunday-school, both read their Bibles
daily, and both are frequent in prayer. Yet
to one life is a long drawn-out battle; to
the other life has its battles, but it also has
its victories. To one the effort to live a
Christian life is one continual strain ; to the
other there is a joyful consciousness in the
midst of every struggle of an arm uphold-
ing and helping him. One pauses now and

84 The Life Worth While

then to wipe the sweat from his brow, and
to ask whether after all life is worth living ;
the other cries, "For me to live is Christ;
to die is gain." One cries out in despair:
"Who shall deliver me from the body of
this death ?" The other shouts as he runs :
"Thanks be to God who giveth us the vic-
tory through our Lord Jesus Christ." One
weeps with bowed head; the other may
weep, but with upturned face toward the
Sun of Righteousness. To one the Chris-
tian life is a burden ; to the other it is a tri-
umph.

What is the secret of the difference be-
tween these two young men? Simply this.
One has repented of his sins and has started
out with the determination to lead a new
life. He knows not how to lead a new life
except by his own strength, and he starts
out trusting in his own will-power. He be-
lieves in Christ as the Savior of men, and
he believes that if he is faithful unto the

The Vidorious Life 85

end Christ will save him at the end. He
has accepted Christ as his lord, his king,
his ruler, but he thinks of him as a king
sitting upon a throne in heaven. In a
word, he believes in Christ as a future Sa-
vior. The other has repented of his sins,
and started out with equal determination
to lead a new life, but he realizes at the
beginning that there is no use trying if he
must depend upon his own feeble arm. He
has tried that before. He cannot be his
own savior, and there has come to him the
blessed revelation that the Christ in whom
he has been asked to believe is not merely
the lord, the ruler, the king of men, but
that he has come into the world to be the
present Savior of men; that while he re-
turned to heaven after the resurrection, he
descended again in the person of the Holy
Spirit; that the Holy Spirit present in the
world and in the hearts of men to-day is
the present Christ. He has realized that

86 The Life Worth WhOe

Jesus, the all-sufficient Savior from all sin,
is at his right hand ready to enter into his
heart, to take possession of his life, to
strengthen every nerve and every muscle,
to fight for him and through him, to over-
come his temptations, to give strength to
him in his weariness, to give health to him
in his sickness, and to enlighten him in his
darkness. He has realized that Christ, the
complete satisfier of all his wants, is at his
side ready to meet all his deficiencies, and
to be his sufficiency in all things ; and he
has opened his heart and given himself up
to Christ his present Savior. And so in the
hour of weakness, instead of fainting and
crying out in despair, he looks up and
claims Christ's strength and Christ gives
him strength. In the hour of temptation,
instead of entering into the fight single-
handed he turns his eyes toward Christ
and claims the promise of his strength for
the hour of temptation, and the strength of

The Vidorious Life 87

Christ takes possession of him, and fights
his battle and wins his victory. He has his
struggles, he has his heartaches, he has his
sorrows, but in all things he has the victory
through our Lord Jesus Christ.

XVI
A Well Armed Man

Here is a young man who is making a
brave effort to live a noble life. He has
accepted Christ and he is struggling to
keep true to his profession. But every-
thing is against him. His friends are all
trying to lead him astray. He is teased
continually. He cannot even say his pray-
ers in peace. Every imp of Satan is point-
ing his finger at him. He is persecuted
for Christ's sake just as truly as the early
Christians were persecuted. Then, too, he.
is struggling with all sorts of temptations.
The boys are going off to have a good

A Well Armed Man 89

time. He knows what that good time
means. He has been with them before and
he knows that a Christian cannot have that
sort of a good time. Yet, he wants to go.
There are many things that make it a hard-
ship to stay behind, and it is hard to say
"no." Every day he meets some new temp-
tation, and sometimes he overcomes it and
sometimes it overcomes him. He is con-
scious that he is too weak for the battle.
He needs a stronger armor of defense.
What is the strongest defensive armor for
a persecuted young man? You will find it
in I Peter iv:2:

"Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered
for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise
with the same mind."

Sometimes we arm ourselves with good
resolutions. Sometimes we arm ourselves
with the thought that it is too cowardly to
go back after starting out for Christ. Some-
times we strengthen our backbone by ask-

90 The Life Worth While

ing what So-and-so will say? But these
things are not strong enough for times of
real persecution. There is but one thing
that is strong enough : it is to be armed
with the mind which Christ armed him-
self. Just as our Lord, when he was about
to come down among us, determined out of
pure love for us, to suffer even unto death
for our sakes, so we should arm ourselves,
out of pure love for him, with the determi-
nation to suffer even unto death for his
sake. The reason why it is so hard to bear,
to endure, to suffer hardships for Christ is.
because we have never settled this matter
in our own minds. Our love for him has
never moved us to decide that we would
suffer for him even unto death. Because
Christ loved us he determined to suffer
unto death for us. Having settled this mat-
ter at the beginning he bore the sufferings
which came upon him almost as a matter
of course. It never occurred to him to

A Well Armed Man 91

ery out, "How much more shall I en-
dure?" He never exclaimed, "When will
patience cease to be a virtue!" No man
ever heard him say, "I am willing to bear
my part, but enough of a thing is enough."
He did not come to us with the intention
of drinking as much of the cup of suffer-
ing as he could and letting the rest go. He
came determined to drink the very dregs.
And he drank the dregs.

This is the spirit which you and I must
have if we are going to quit ourselves like
men. We have played baby long enough.
We have had no strength to endure simply
because we have had no mind for it. Our
mind has been to run from suffering, and
when we were overtaken to cry as babies
cry. If Christ had set his mind on him-
self rather than on us he, too, would have
cried out. If we will set our minds on him
rather than on ourselves we will count it a
privilege to be permitted to suflfer for his

92 The Ufe Worth While

sake. Is the idea clear? The bottom sec-
ret is love. That young man is happy when
he is permitted to suffer for the woman he
loves — if he loves her. That mother is
happy to suffer for the child she loves — if
she loves him. That man is happy to suffer
for the Christ he loves — if he really loves,
him.

XVII
Consecration vs. Annihilation

It is a common notion that consecration
is the equivalent of annihilation. We are
in the habit of saying that men hesitate to
give themselves wholly to God because
they are afraid it will cost them their pleas-
ure, but there are many who hesitate out of
fear that it will cost them their very exist-
ence. We know good people who hold on
to an uncomfortable position with one foot
on the altar and the other on the earth lest
if they should lift the other foot on the
altar they would literally cease to be. They
share the common instinct that shudders at

94 The Life Worth While

the thought of dropping into obHvion, and
they have not advanced to that refinement
of ambition that seeks to be absorbed in
Nirvana.

The phraseology, if not the teaching, of
certain modern apostles of the higher life
is perhaps largely responsible for the preva-
lence of this notion. We are told that when
we surrender ourselves to the Lord we re-
sign in his favor and that he immediately
assumes our place and does our work for
us. We are to give up everything, even to
trying. We are to stand still with our
eyes closed, and wait for the Holy Spirit to
hypnotize us and lead us by an irresistible
influence. And we are assured that if we
will stand very still and keep perfectly quiet
and not peep, we will surely feel this influ-
ence, just as a blindfolded man is said to
feel an impulse in the particular direction
agreed upon by the mesmerists who place
their hands upon him.

Consecration vs. Annihilation 95

The chief trouble about this sort of teach-
ing is that it is not scriptural. God is our
sufficiency, and we are nowhere taught that
he is our substitute. When we consecrate
ourselves to him we are not asked to re-
nounce our names, to drop ourselves into
the sea of oblivion, and to cast the talents
he has given us to the winds. When we
come to God we bring to him the work-
manship of his own hands. God is not ex-
travagant. He does not make men and
then throw them away. He does not give
us the power to do a thing and then insist
that we shall throw away that power and
look to him to do it. The Holy Spirit
comes not to take the place of what we
have, but to meet all our deficiencies. In
consecrating ourselves to God we need not
fear that we will have to give up anything
that he has given us. A consecrated man
is not less than a man, but more.

XVIII
The Source of Power

Stripped of all technicalities, enthusiasm,
mysticism and hair-splitting, the doctrine
of the Holy Spirit is that Jesus has prom-
ised that the Father will give to those of us
who obey him in love "another Comforter,"
who shall abide with us, and be to us for
all time what Jesus himself was to his dis-
ciples during his earthly ministry. In a
word, if we obey him in love we shall have
no occasion to envy the disciples who saw
him in the flesh, for the Holy Spirit will be
to us a present Christ and he will abide
with us forever.

The Source of Power ' 97

Let us see if we can realize what this
means. Here are a hundred and twenty
followers of Jesus — plain, obscure men and
women praying and waiting. Well may
they wait, for there is no one in the entire
band who has the power to take the first
step in the great work which the Master
has planned for them. And well may they
pray, for if the power they need does not
come from heaven there is no hope that it
will come from anywhere else. There is no
man in authority who is going to throw the
weight of his influence in their behalf;
there is no powerful organization coming
to their help; there is no hope that they
will have the aid of the influence that comes
from wealth or social position. They are
set apart for a great work ; they are to be
the instruments of supernatural power; but
now they are powerless. They are but dead
wires.

Suddenly the Holy Spirit enters their

98 The Life Worth While

hearts. It is like the rushing of an electric
current into a wire that has been prepared
to furnish light and power. Before the
current is turned on the wire is dead; the
next moment the electric fluid bursts into
dazzling light and sets every wheel going.
But a little while ago they forsook their
Master in his hour of trial. A little while
ago Peter found himself too weak to endure
the scorn of a servant girl. A little while
ago they were not bold enough to whisper
the name of the Master outside of the upper
room. They did not have the courage;
they did not have the knowledge ; they did
not have the magnetism ; they did not have
anything which they peculiarly needed for
their work. Now the men who fled from
Gethsemane to escape arrest go forth and
arrest the attention of the great multitude
that would have crucified them with their
leader. Now even Peter, who had denied
his Master and backed up his denial by

The Source of Power 99

oaths, stands forth as strong as a giant, and
dares to charge the men of Jerusalem with
slaying his Lord.

What does all this mean. Simply that
the Holy Spirit, the promise of the Father,
is our light and our power; that without
him, whatever may be our equipment, we
are but dead wires ; that with him we may
have all the light and the power we need.
Yesterday we went forth to the day's tasks,
praying that we might walk as Christ our
example would have us walk. There came
a time when we did not know which way to
turn ; we needed light. There came a time
when we grew weak in the face of duty;
another moment, and we stumbled from
sheer weakness of soul. All the day long
we denied our Master; not in so many
words like Peter, and yet we denied him,
for all the day long our actions said that
we did not know Jesus. Last night we wept
bitterly on our pillows and wondered if to

400313

100 The Life Worth While

live means to fail in everything we try to
do. What was the matter? We were but
dead wires. What will give us courage for
to-day? What will give us light that we
may not stumble in the way? To whom
shall we go but to him who has promised
the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth, who
will guide us into all truth?

XIX
The Lowly in Heart

Humility was a rare virtue among the
Jews in Jesus' day. The seeds of vanity
and conceit diligently sown by the rabbis
through generations had yielded a nation
of coxcombs. One true-blue Jew, to their
thinking, was worth more in the sight of
God than all the heathen on the face of the
earth. The Jews of Judea were better than
the Jews of Galilee ; the rich Jews were bet-
ter than the poor Jews; the elders were
better than the people, and every Jew was
better than every other Jew. The most un-
attractive thing about Jesus was his humil-

102 The Life Worth While

ity. Even his disciples were slow to take
his yoke upon them and learn of him, for
they did not want to learn that he was
meek and lowly in heart.

Breathing such an atmosphere, it was
natural that the chosen twelve should allow
themselves to think that they were superior
to the other disciples, and it was just as
natural that James and John should imag-
ine that they were worthy of greater honors
than the rest of the twelve. And why
should not their mother think so too?

But the very fact that it was natural made
it all the more dangerous, and our Lord
lost no time in showing these men their
peril and pointing out a better way. Such
a spirit, he told them plainly, was of the
earth earthly. Heathen kings were accus-
tomed to contend for place and to lord it
over men, and among little men of the
world the man who lorded it over others
was called a benefactor; but that was not

The Li>wly in Heart 103

the way in which it would be looked upon
in his kingdom. There is no greatness in
sticking one's self upon a pedestal to re-
ceive the enforced homage of the great or
the voluntary homage of the small. No
man is great who calls himself great, or
insists on being regarded as great. The
ambition to lord it over others is born only
in small men. True greatness shows it-
self in service. It is service. In the eyes of
God and in the judgment of all good men
the man who sets himself up, sets himself
up because he is too small to be seen other-
wise. That man is great who serves and
thereby deserves to be enshrined in the
hearts of the people, whether he is en-
shrined or not. In a word, that man is
great who most resembles Christ, the ser-
vant of men.

But let us make no mistake about Christ.
He is our humble servant, not a humiliated
servant. The picture of the Master wash-

104 The Life Worth WHle

ing his disciples' feet is a picture of hu-
mility, not a picture of humiliation. It is
strange that we should so often mistake one
for the other when there is no real resem-
blance between them. Many a young man
will not come to Christ because he has got
it into his head that a life of service is
inimicable to one's self-respect. Humility
is not a stooping to unworthy things ; it is
not that spirit which leads us to do any-
thing we are ashamed of. It is simply love
having its way in lowly spheres. Jesus
washed his disciples' feet because he loved
his disciples to the uttermost. If you love
your child a little you will serve him in
some things, but you will have a servant to
attend to lowly duties. But if you love
your child unto the uttermost you will find
delight in serving him in lowly ways; and
when he is very sick and your love is there-
by drawn out to the utmost you will want
to do the utmost for him with your own

The Lowly in Heart 105

hands ; and you will delight in doing for
him things which you would be ashamed
to do for one whom you loved less. Hu-
mility has no connection with shame ; where
shame is there is only humiliation.

Again, humility is opposed to ostenta-
tion. Strangely enough this act of Jesus
has been interpreted as a theatrical exhi-
bition. We are given to interpreting other
people's acts by our own feelings, and we
remember how on one occasion when there
was an humble duty to perform and every-
one shrank from it — we remember how we
stepped forward and said that we would
like for them to know that we were not
too proud to do it. But when we put such
a thought as this in the mind of Jesus the
story loses all of its beauty and becomes a
pitiful exhibition of vanity. Humility dies
the moment it begins to advertise. Nay, it
dies with the thought of advertising. The
proudest man among us is the man who is

106 The life Worth Wye

always reminding people how humble he
is ; for the proudest man living is the man
-who is proud of his humility.

XX

Heart Que^ions About Prayer

If I were asked what is the most pitiful
picture that human eyes ever looked upon
I would doubtless recall a certain vision of
a poor little baby waif — a tiny castaway
who had no mother's eyes into which it
might look. But if I should take time to
consider it would probably come to me that
after all the case of this little castaway is
not the most pitiful in the world. It is not
so pitiful, for example, as that of a big,
full-grown man I know who, in his hours
of helplessness, has no Heavenly Father's

108 The Life Worth While

eyes into which he may look. That man
is the world's most wretched castaway.

A baby must look up into its mother's
eyes or into the eyes of one who may take
the mother's place; denied this privilege
it will soon cease to live. A man must look
up into the face of God; denied this privi-
lege he is already dead.

This looking up into the face of God is
what we call prayer. For prayer, when we
come to think of it, is simply conscious
helplessness looking up to the source of
help. It is not a matter of words. It is
true we are accustomed to say that prayer
is the language of faith ; but faith, like love,,
can speak without the tongues of men or
of angels. Prayer is not the mere saying
of one's little speech to God on set occa-
sions. It is the very breath of one's life —
the outpouring of the heart's desire and the
heart's gratitude continually to God. We
do not know the meaning of prayer until

Heart Que^ons About Prayer 109

we have formed the habit of breathing out
toward God.

There are two famiHar texts which, if
kept in mind, will answer nearly all the
questions our hearts are asking about
prayer.

The first is the assurance of the Psalm-
ist : "Like as a father pitieth his children so
the Lord pitieth them that fear him." How
does a wise, loving father who has unlim-
ited means to do as he wishes treat his
children? We know that there are many
things which he is glad to do for his most
wayward children. He will see that they
have food and clothing, and he will do
much to keep them out of trouble and
everything to get them out of trouble when
they have fallen in. But there are many
things which he loves to do for his obedient
children. A loving, obedient boy can go to
such father with perfect confidence that his
father is always ready to do the best for

no The Life Worth WMe

him. He does not give him everything he
asks for because he knows the boy better
than the boy knows himself, and he is more
concerned over his boy's welfare than his
boy is concerned for himself. But if he
does not do what his boy wants he does
not turn a deaf ear to his cry. He will seek
other ways to satisfy him and often he
delights in doing far more for him than
he has hoped for. He is not going to give
him anything that will hurt him. If he
asks for bread he will not mock him by
giving him a stone. If he asks for whole-
some food, as a fish or an egg, he will not
give him a serpent or a scorpion to poison
him. Like as a father pitieth his children so
the Lord pitieth them that fear him. Recall
the questions you have been asking about
prayer and look at them in the light of this
saying. Will God hear us when we cry?
Yes ; for he is our Father. Will he give us
everything that we ask for ? No ; for he is

Heart Qye^ons About Prayer 1 I I

our Father. Why does God allow the sun
to shine and the rain to fall upon the unjust
as well as the just? Because God is our
Father. Does God make a difference so
that those who obey him may go to him
with the assurance which one who does not
obey him cannot have? Yes; for God is
our Father. You and I can trust a wise
and loving father who has unlimited means
to do all that his love and wisdom prompt
him to do. Can we not trust God who is
our wise and loving Father and who has
unlimited means to do all that his love and
wisdom prompt him to do ?

The other text is from Hebrews vii : 25 :
"Seeing he ever liveth to make intercession
for them." Does God hear my prayer?
Does he understand my case? Does he
know my circumstances? Does he think
of my needs? Alas! my prayers are not
worth hearing, and I don't understand my
own case, and I am thinking of my wishes

112 The Life Worth While

rather than my needs. What hope is there
that a poor mortal may enter for one mo-
ment into the thought of God? One may
answer, God is love and therefore he does
not forget. But there are times when the
throne of God seems so far off, and I say,
"Oh, if I only had some one to look after
my case at court !" That is just what Christ
is doing in heaven to-day. "He ever liveth
to make intercession." He is there with
our cases on his heart and on his mind.
He is there to represent us. He is there
to plead with the Father for us. He comes
between us and the Father, not to separate
us, indeed, not because the Father would
not draw near to us, but to bind us to-
gether. He is our high priest. I do not
understand that this means that God our
Father is far away from us, that we need
to have a representative at court lest he
should forget us, that he would not under-
stand our cases if Christ did not tell him

Heart Qye^ons About Prayer 1 1 3

all about us ; it simply means that we need
not have the slightest fear concerning God
as to whether he will hear our prayer, or
whether he understands our case, or wheth-
er he knows our circumstances, or whether
he enters into our needs ; but we may pray,
if we pray as we ought, with perfect assur-
ance that our petitions will not fall short
of his ear. If our case is pecuHar, we may
be sure that he knows it, for we have an
Advocate at court. If we have any real
need we may be sure that he knows what
it is, "for he ever liveth to make interces-

XXI
Judging Others

There are at least four good reasons why
we should not sit in judgment upon others.
In the first place, we are unfit to be judges,
for the reason that we look on the out-
ward appearance and not on the heart. In
the second place, the habit of judging peo-
ple destroys the spirit of charity, and feeds
the flame of hate within us. In the third
place, it blinds us more and more to our
own faults. In the fourth place, it is utter-
ly futile, for the reason that we look for
faults in others, hoping thereby to minify
or blot out our own. After all, why should

Judging Others I 1 5

we judge others when we have so many
faults ourselves ? It is notorious that those
who are so quick to speak of the motes
in other people's eyes have great, blinding
beams in their own eyes. It is the fault-
finder who is fullest of faults. Why should
we be so deeply concerned about other
people's motes and so little concerned about
our own beams? Will pulling motes out
of other people's eyes get the beams out
of our own? Nay, nay; let us be a little
selfish until he have — to change the figure
— swept before our own doors. Let us get
the beams out of our own eyes and then
shall we see clearly to pull the mote out
of our brother's eye; though it is likely,
when we are able to see how small the
mote is, we will not be so bent on getting
it out.

But Jesus would not have us go to the
other extreme of exaggerated charity,
which some superior saints affect. He

116 The Life Worth While

would not have us so charitable that we
would refuse to see the wolf that comes to
us often hidden in sheep's clothing. He
would not have us hide our eyes from the
cloven foot when the devil comes to us an
angel of light. He does not ask the good
mother to imagine that the vile scab who
wants to visit her daughter is every inch a
gentleman. He would not have us under
obligations to show our charity for show-
people of doubtful character by giving
them the encouragement of our presence,
even if the ticket costs us nothing. He does
not move the hearts of fair women to send
bouquets and perfumed notes to condemned
murderers. We are not to turn away from
our own faults and look for the faults of
others, but on the other hand, we must not
turn away from the fact that if the fruit is
not good the tree is corrupt.

XXII
How Often Shall I Forgive?

It is not a question of mathematics; it
is a question of love. Love does not take
note of its own good deeds or of another's
evil deeds ; it is malice that keeps a memo-
randum of such things. It is not enough
to forgive a man seven times or seventy
times seven. What Jesus wants is the spirit
that cherishes no evil against any man, that
refuses to harbor any bitterness, and is al-
ways ready and always seeking to live in
love and charity with all men. There is
never an occasion for asking how often one
shall forgive, when one shall forgive, or

118 The Life Worth While

under what circumstances one shall for-
give. The only question is, Shall I at any
time, or under any circumstances, or for the
smallest moment, admit into my heart any
ill-feeling toward my neighbor? Never!
says Jesus. And he gives us a reason. We,
too, are offenders, and we are looking to
God continually for forgiveness. And he
forgives us. If our Father in heaven, who
is too holy to look upon sin, can forgive
us, utterly unworthy as we are, surely we
cannot afford to refuse to forgive any one
of his creatures.

It is sometimes said that we are not re-
quired to forgive other until they ask our
forgiveness, because God does not forgive
us until we ask forgiveness, and God would
not require us to go further than he does.
But who are we that we should thus com-
pare ourselves with God? Who are we
that we should put on such fine airs and
think ourselves so high and of such dignity

How Often Shall I Forgive? 1 19

that those who offend us must fall at our
feet and sue for mercy, as if they had of-
fended their creator, upon whom they were
dependent for every need? The man who
offends me is my brother — my equal — not
my servant, who receives his Hfe and all
that he has from my hands. And I — given
as I am to offending others, and the more
given to offending God himself — ^why
should I stand at a great distance and curl
the lip with scorn and declare that I will
not forgive my enemy until he comes and
sues for peace? Why should I set myself
up as a superior being, whose offended dig-
nity can only be satisfied by the humiliation
of the offender?

But even admitting that we are at lib-
erty to enthrone ourselves above our ene-
mies and require them to come to us and
plead for forgiveness, as we say God re-
quires of his enemies, it may be further an-
swered that while God does not pardon

120 The Life Worth While

those who refuse to ask for pardon, he
never for a single moment cherishes in his
heart the feelings which you and I are dis-
posed to cherish against those whom we
refuse to forgive. If we wish to follow
God in the matter of forgiving our enemies,
let us follow him in this : let us keep from
our hearts all bitterness against the oflfend-
er and seek continually, as God by his Holy
Spirit seeks, to win the offender to our
hearts.

XXIII
The Unruly Member

When you and I grow old we are going
to sit down some day and say: ''I've had
a good many troubles in my time, but after
all I am responsible for most of them my-
self." And some of us are going to add:
^'Most of the troubles which I brought
upon myself came through my tongue and
my temper." This is what nearly all the
old people we know have learned, now that
they have grown old. The pity of it is that
they did not learn it while they were young.
Why may you and I not learn it while we
are young?

122 The Life Worth While

A large part of the trouble that comes to
the average man or woman in a life time
comes through the tongue or the temper.
If this is true surely one of the most vital
questions you and I can ask is, How can
I get control of my tongue and my tem-
per?

Jesus tells us how.

As for the tongue, he says, the impor-
tant thing is to let one's communications
be, Yea, yea ; nay, nay. He does not mean
that we should confine our speech to yes
and no. This old world would be insuf-
ferable if the followers of Jesus did that.
What he means is that we should say yes
when we mean yes and no when we mean
no, and not seek to bolster up our yes or no
with oaths or lies or extravagances of any
sort. In a word we should rule our ton-
gues and not let them rule us. James dwells
upon this idea in his epistle. If your tongue
rules you, he says, it will ruin you; if you

The Unruly Member 123

rule it, it will be a blessing to you and to
all around you. For this little member is
a tremendous power — like the little bit with
which we manage horses, and the little
rudder with which we guide ships. You
might harness up every muscle of a horse
to the big wheel of an engine, and you
could not, with all the steam power you
could use, manage him so well as you could
manage him with a tiny bit in his mouth ;
nor could a thousand men do for a ship
what one little rudder under the control of
one man could do. It is a frightful thing
to see a horse running away, with the reins
on the ground; it is pitiful to see a great
ship tossing helplessly about in the sea
without a rudder. But it is both frightful
and pitiful to see a man's tongue tossing
to and fro, or running away for want of
somebody to control it. The tongue is a
little thing, but in its very littleness lies
much of its danger. It is like the spark
that kindles the flame that burns a city.

124 The Life Worth While

The world has had so much good advice
concerning the abuse of the tongue that
some pious folk have concluded that this
little member is an incurably w^icked thing,
put into the world for no good purpose ex-
cept to exercise patience in holding it.
There are many really good people whose
highest ambition in life is to be able to hold
their tongues. They don't want to be any-
thing in the positive, but they want to be
something in the negative ; they want to be
as harmless as posts, forgetting how harm-
ful a post may be when it is in people's
way. *Tf I can only manage to say noth-
ing wrong," is their soul's deepest cry.
And so, while the world is cursed with bad
tongues loose at both ends, it suffers be-
cause there are so many good tongues tied
at both ends. Everyone knows some good
woman who rarely says anything for fear
she might make a mistake. She would like
to speak a comforting word to a bereaved

The Unruly Member 125

neighbor, but she is afraid she will say
something she ought not, and so tear the
wound afresh. She would like to tell the
minister how helpful his sermons have
been to her, but she is afraid she will spoil
him. And so she holds her tongue day by
day, smothering her best impulses and
starving because she will not give.

If a friend should give you a mettlesome
young horse, would you tie him to a post
and let him stay there a lifetime for fear if
you should try to drive him he might run
away? Would you not buy a good, stout
harness, with a good stiff bit, and train him
for service ?

Can a man's tongue serve the purpose
for which it was made if it is kept tied to
the roof of his mouth ? Are we exhorted to
tie our tongues ? Are we not rather urged
to bridle them that we may use them?

As for the temper, the important thing,
Jesus teaches us, is to renounce forever

126 The Life Worth While

that which many of us have learned to re-
gard as the sweetest privilege of life — the
privilege of retaliation. Have you ever no-
ticed that when a man is more concerned
about standing up for the right than he is
for his rights you rarely find him engaged
in giving a free exhibition of his temper?
Look at that little child who has thrown
himself upon the floor in a fit of rage.
What is the matter ? Somebody has gotten
in the way of his rights. The little fellow
has been made to feel from the beginning
that all things revolve about him ; that sun
and moon and papa and mamma were
made for him ; and this has developed in
him the habit of always looking out for his
rights ; not for right — he cares nothing for
that ; nor for your rights — he cares nothing
for that ; but for his rights. And this habit
of standing up always for his rights and
demanding on all occasions an eye for an
eye and a tooth for a tooth has fed his tem-

The Unruly Member 127

per until now he falls to pieces at the slight-
est provocation. Suppose one day he
should suddenly awake to the utter folly
of retaliation — what a change would come
over his temper ! It is the spirit of retalia-
tion that keeps the temper at the exploding
point. The very moment one renounces
the privilege of revenge — the moment he
decides to stand up for the right and let
God take care of his rights — that moment
will he cease to be the slave of his temper.

XXIV
The Hour of Temptation

It is one thing to be tempted, another
thing to fall. We are not responsible for
what the temper has to do with us ; we are
only responsible for what we have to do
with him. With this thought in mind
there is nothing to disturb us in the fact
that Jesus could be tempted. We say that
God cannot be tempted and we say well,
for God has all things and can desire noth-
ing; there is nothing with which to tempt
him. But when Jesus took upon himself
our nature he subjected himself to our limi-
tations, and one of man's limitations is pov-

The Hour of Temptation 129

erty; he is dependent on God for every-
thing. Jesus was in need; he had re-
nounced the power to provide for himself
and any good thing presented before him
would naturally awaken desire. Note that
Satan tempts men with good things as
well as with evil, and that in tempting
Jesus he ofifered only such things as were
in themselves good. He knew better than
to waste his time with offers of evil things
— things which would awaken no desire
in a pure heart.

It is not a sin to be tempted nor is it
anything against our good name that Satan
should try to overcome us. We are some-
times perplexed by his visits; we think
he ought to know what is in us and we feel
humiliated, just as we would if a man
should oflfer to bribe us. But Satan, like
death, loves a shining mark; he does not
trouble himself about those he is already
sure of, or about those who can do him no

1 30 The Life Worth While

harm ; he attacks those who get in his way.
The man who is never tempted is either
half dead or is living in such a way as to
satisfy the temper. Jesus was not only
tempted like as we are, but being the devil's
worst enemy he was subjected to his fierc-
est and most violent assaults.

But while it is not a sin to be tempted
it is a sin to deliberately put ourselves in
the way of temptation. So long as we have
nothing to do with the temptation we are
not responsible for it, but when we help out
the tempter by meeting him half-way, we
must expect at least to share the respon-
sibility with him. Jesus did not go into-
the wilderness to be tempted. He was not
impatient to measure swords with the
prince of darkness. He was led by the
Spirit. And being led by the Spirit it mat-
tered little whether he was led into a wilder-
ness among the wild beasts, or brought in
contact with the devil, or both. We are not

The Hour of Temptation 1 3 1

to walk in a lion's den on our own will
counting upon God's protection, but if we
are led by the Spirit we may go with the
assurance that the mouths of the lions have
been closed.

But how can I overcome temptation? I
wish we would not always ask this ques-
tion so hopelessly but would really look
for an answer. In the story of the temp-
tation in the wilderness you will find the
Master's own method. This method you
will notice is remarkable not only for its
simplicity but for its brevity. A successful
method with temptation must be a short
one. Time is one of the devil's best friends.
If he can only persuade us to stop awhile
and talk over matters he will feel quite sure
of his game; for he is better at an argu-
ment than we are — he has been at the busi-
ness so long — and while he is arguing we
forget ourselves, and he has a chance to let
fly a tiny dart now and then at the joints

132 The Life Worth While

of our armor. What is done must be done
quickly. Jesus puts it all in one short sen-
tence. He does not argue, he does not par-
ley, he does not suggest any "ifs" or
"ands" ; he simply quotes a word of Scrip-
ture. In other words, when the devil makes
known his will, Jesus instantly thinks of his
Father's will and brings it forward. This
silences Satan on the matter in hand, if
it does not entirely vanquish him.

Now let us take Jesus as our example
in this as in all other things. To over-
come temptation let us do as he did — let
us turn our thoughts instantly toward the
Father. Let us drive the devil's thoughts
out of our minds with the Father's
thoughts. Let us ask, not. What would this
or that friend have me do? but, What
would God have me do? What does my
Bible say?

XXV
Sweetening Our Pleasures

The simple folk of Cana won immortal
distinction by inviting Jesus to share their
pleasures. It was a beautiful thing to do,
though I imagine if they had really known
who he was they would have been just like
the rest of us — they would not have in-
vited him. How quick we are to invite the
Son of God to the house of mourning, and
yet who thinks of inviting him to the house
of rejoicing? We share with him our
pains, but never our pleasures. We feel
the need of him in our troubles, but we feel
that we can get along in our sunny hours

1 34 The Life Worth While

without him. At any rate we do not see
how he can help us. And so it happens
that even in the most innocent pleasures of
life we manage to get along without his
presence.

We even leave him out of the pleasures
of the home. And yet he who had no place
to lay his head dearly loved a home. For
he believed in the home, and in all those
relationships which make the home — which
open our hearts ; which awaken love and
sympathy and sacrifice ; which make us
patient and forbearing; which give present
joy and turn our thoughts to never-fading
joys.

I wonder if this habit of leaving Jesus
out of our pleasures is not the reason why
we get along so poorly in our pleasures.
I wonder it if is not why so many of our
pleasures turn our badly — why the most in-
nocent recreations so often lead us into
sin — why so many pleasures that are inno-

Sweetening Our Pleasures I 35

cent in themselves have become so danger-
ous that we can hardly afford to have any-
thing to do with them at all.

The simple folk of Cana invited Jesus
to their wedding and his presence was a
blessing to them. He helped them when
they were in trouble ; he saved them from
humiliation. He added to their happiness,
for his goodness we may be sure was not
the sort that is likely to spoil a wedding
festival. He honored them by his pres-
ence and we may be sure that they were not
led away by the pleasures of the hour as
they might have been led away if he had
not been present. If you and I felt the
need of our Lord's direction in our pleas-
ures as well as in our troubles, would not
our pleasures in life be sweeter and purer?
If we should go to him in the midst of the
innocent recreations of life and depend
upon him to keep us, would we be led into
those things which have so often caused
us to hang our heads for shame?

XXVI
The Grace of Thankfulness

A young man stopped me on the street
to ask the time of day. As he turned
slowly away I had time to notice that
while he was conscious of having received
what he wanted, there was not the faintest
indication that he recognized it as a favor.
As for thanks, he had no tongue for it, and
as for thankfulness, he evidently had no
heart for it. He was so poor — this well
dressed beggar of the streets — that he
could not even pay his debts of gratitude.

The Grace of Thankfulness 1 3 7

He came back a little while afterward
to ask another favor. I granted it, but I
think it must have been with a bad grace.
In fact, I felt much as a merchant does
when a man who has ignored an old ac-
count comes to ask the favor or starting a
new one. Why this change in my feelings ?
When he came to me before, it was a pleas-
ure to stop and grant the trifling favor
asked, because he approached me with a
show of respect. Now the way was closed,
though he was as respectful in manner as
before. The trouble was, he knew how to
open up the way to favor, but he did not
know how to keep it open. We may open
the way to another's favor by approaching
him in a respectful manner, but we can
only keep the way open by acknowledging
the favors which he bestows upon us. Here
is the chief part which thanksgiving plays
in religious experience. It does many
things for us; it makes the air better, and

138 The Life Worth While

the sun-light more cheerful, and the com-
pany happier, and living more delightful,
but best of all, it helps to keep the channel
of blessing open. The man who goes to
God solely to beg, finds that the way must
be opened anew every time he goes, and
that it is getting harder and harder to
open; but the man who sends a prayer to
heaven, and then proceeds to use the chan-
nel made by it as a channel for the incense
of a grateful heart, keeps the way to God
open, keeps heaven in sight, and keeps
himself where blessings are continually
falling. Incense helps to keep the way to
heaven clear. A grateful acknowledgment
of a past blessing is an effective prayer for
a future blessing.

I am reminded of two women whose lives
made up two parts of a better sermon on
thanksgiving than I can ever hope to
preach. One is a poor wretched creature
whose life is dominated by the belief that

The Grace of Thankfulness 139

the world owes her a pension. On what
grounds she bases her claim, other than
the fact that she has long been in the di-
lemma of the old woman who lived in a
shoe, has never been made quite clear ; but
that she is fully convinced of its validity
has never been doubted by the neighbors
from whom she has been diligently collect-
ing it for the past dozen years. A more
persistent, untiring, shameless beggar it
would be hard to find. She never wants
anything that she does not ask for it, and
she is liable to want anything anywhere
and at any hour of the day or night. And
when she comes to beg, it is with the air
of a collector who has come for the six-
teenth time for the rent that has been three
months due. The world owes her a living,
and she is going to get it in cash, potatoes
or clothes, or somebody will be sorry. And
when you have done your best for her, she
gives you a look that says as plain as plain

140 The Life Worth While

can be that it is no more than you ought
to have done long ago, and you don't de-
serve a bit of thanks for it. There is no
expression of gratitude, no sign that you
have reached her heart, no indication that
she has a heart to reach. If she ever ut-
tered a "Thank you" that meant it, the
oldest inhabitant does not recall it. Every-
body knows grumbling Jane — under pro-
test. And everybody despises her, as she
despises everybody, and calls her a hateful
old thing, a public nuisance that ought to
be abated, a running sore on the body poli-
tic. And yet grumbling Jane is only a
human being, made after the pattern of
human beings, minus a thankful spirit.

The other woman in the matter of pov-
erty is as much like the miserable creature
of whom I have spoken as one black-eyed
pea is like another. But if she ever sufifers,
it is because her needs are not made known^
for all the neighbors say that it is more

The Grace of Thankfulness 141'

blessed to give to her than to receive from
any one. You would probably, call her a
beggar, though no one who, knows, her
would think of using such a term, in con-
nection with her name. But there are times
when the meal gives out, and the wood
gives out, and everything gives out, and
the poor, struggling creature looks down
into the pinched, pale faces of her children,
and sets her lips resolutely together, and
goes out with her need to a neighbor who
has befriended her. But she does not ring
the doorbell as if she had a first mortgage
on your home. And she does not begin
her tale of woe with a complaint against
"the people who ought to help the poor
and don't do it." And when you have done
your best for her — for you always do your
best for her — there wells up in her eyes
and overflows upon your heart such grati-
tude that you turn away feeling that you
have received too much for your paltry.

142 The Life Worth While

gift. And you are better and happier all
the day for the vision of a heart that can
suffer so much, and yet always keeps full
of the spirit of thankfulness. Carry that
poor woman a gift, however small, and
when you return home you will straightway
plan to carry her something better to-mor-
row. Her thankfulness is such a benedic-
tion.

There is nothing in the demands of mod-
ern culture inimical to the culture of
thanksgiving. The difficulty is, so many
think that the art can be acquired by mere-
ly studying the forms of graceful expres-
sion. You cannot disguise the sounding
brass of purely formal thanks with all the
art in the world. To give thanks one must
be thankful — full of thanks. And to be
thankful one must be "thinkful." There is
no other secret. One must think upon fav-
ors bestowed — one must give as serious
thought to the things which are bestowed

The Grace of Thankfulness 143

as to the things which are desired if the
heart is to be kept full. Of course, one
must begin at the beginning and learn the
art of giving thanks unto Him who is al-
ways giving. That is real incense which
both ascends and spreads in a circle.

XXVII
When The Heart Aches

An old sheik sits in the door of his tent
with his head bowed upon his hand. It is
the strong man's hour of weakness. Abram
is very rich, but he is very lonely. And he
has just returned from a great victory;
but what is that to a man whose heart is
set on higher things ? And what is that to
a man to whom God has come with a great
promise, and the promise remains unful-
filled ? A few years ago he was in his fath-
er's home, surrounded by friends; now he
is in a strange land, though it is the land
of promise, surrounded by newly-made

When The Heart Aches 145

enemies. And he is childless; and he is
old; and the nephew upon whom he had
set his heart is no longer his daily com-
fort. And the days are passing swiftly by,
and it begins to look as if God has forgot-
ten his promise.

The sun sets, the shadows gather, and
with a heavy sigh the old man rises from
his seat, and going into his tent lies down
to sleep. That night God comes to him
in a vision. God, the great Jehovah, comes
and talks with him, a mere man, because
he is lonely and cast down — talks with him
as a father would talk to his little child —
as a father seeing his little one in tears over
his play, would come and kneel at his side
and put his arm around him and brush
away his tears, and then take his little
blocks and build his little house for him.
And when Abram gives vent to the com-
plaint that is in his heart God does not
scold him. He simply leads him out under

146 The Life Worth WhOe

the stars, like the patient, loving teacher
that he is, and shows him an object-lesson
that revives the old man's faith; and when
he beheves, God in his mercy counts it as
a great thing — counts it as so much right-
eousness. And when Abram asks for a
sign God very graciously grants his re-
quest and condescends to go through an
old ceremony with him by which men
bind themselves to each other, that Abram
might feel all the more confident that the
promise of Jehovah would be fulfilled.

God loves to come to his people in their
hour of darkness. He loves to part the
fingers that are bound tightly over the
weeping eyes and let in the sunlight; and
he does it so gently. He loves to bring
light to our minds in the midst of our per-
plexities. He loves to help us with life's
mysteries. He loves to soothe the aching
heart. He loves to come to us when our
little block houses have fallen down and

When The Heart Aches 147

we are in the midst of hopeless tears. Now
the question comes home to us : If all this
is true, if God loves to come to us in our
need, why do we not go to him? Why
should we stand so far off in our time of
trouble and look askance at heaven? Why
should we insist upon nursing our sorrow
in secret? Why should we condemn our-
selves to a life of loneliness when we might
have Divine companionship? Why should
we struggle through the day with our bur-
dens when there is a burden bearer? If
God is our shield why should we not go to
him and let him shield us ?

XXVIII
In The Day of Doubt

There are doubters and doubters. There
is the man who has doubts that come to
him unbidden and unwelcome. He has my
sympathy. And there is the man who sends
off for his doubts — to Germany or Chicago
— and who is very proud of his large and
assorted stock. He has my pity — the sort
of pity which we always feel for a man who
is making a fool of himself. It is time
we were making the distinction. We may
laugh if we will at the man who proudly
introduces himself as "Mr. Agnostic" ; but
I cannot find it in my heart to ridicule the

In The Day of Doubt 149

man whose doubts are a source of great
trial to his own soul. And there are many
men of this sort — many men, and a few
women, who would give anything in the
world if they could accept the mysteries of
our religion with the confidence of little
children, but who seem to themselves
doomed to grope their way in the dark to
the end. And there are many men and
women who find believing at natural as
breathing, but who have learned that there
are times when even breathing itself is not
natural. And there are those who have no
difficulties of their own, but are in deep dis-
tress because a son or a daughter has been
drawn into the vortex of doubt. My heart
bleeds for the father who stands looking
on helplessly while his own son turns his
back upon the faith of his fathers.

Religious doubt is sometimes nothing
more than a physical or mental phenome-
non. It may have nothing whatever to do

150 The Life Worth While

at first with one's moral or religious con-
dition. One of the most pious women I
have ever known was all her life tor-
mented by doubts. In her case it was a
mental disease. But doubts may come with
certain changes of mind that are perfectly
natural and healthy. If I am told that Mr.
Jones has become skeptical, I do not de-
nounce him as a fool, or pity him as a mis-
erable sinner; I simply ask how old he is.
In youth doubt is a symptom of certain
changes going on in the mind just as the
gosling voice or the down on the upper
lip are symptoms of changes going on in
the body. For the mind passes through
critical periods very much like the body.
The first critical period in which doubt is a
noticeable symptom occurs ordinarily about
the seventeenth year, sometimes earlier.
Up to that time your boy has accepted what
was told him with child-like confidence.
Now everything appears hazy and con-

In The Day of Doubt 151

fused, and it becomes as natural to distrust
or doubt as it was formerly to believe. If
at this period the youth goes off to school
and falls among thieves — agnostics who
would steal our faith for which they have
no use — and is exposed to the germs of
doubt, he is exceedingly liable to catch it.
When the mind is passing through this
critical stage, it is as easy for a youth to
catch doubt as it is for a child to catch
measles. The difference is, when the child
is told it is measles he believes it and sub-
mits to treatment, while the youth who is
told that his attack of doubt is only a pass-
ing contagion, looks at you as if you were
a mild lunatic. A young man goes to Ger-
many and comes back a skeptic. He thinks
he has got something ; the trouble is some-
thing has got him. It is a clear case of
mental measles. If you who are nearest to
him will take him in hand wisely and nurse
him carefully, if you will keep him in a

152 The Life Worth While

warm room and give him plenty of flax-
seed tea, as it were — that is to say, if you
will keep his heart warm by our love and
tender care — the attack will in all proba-
bility run its course in due time, and he
may be none the worse for it. But the
trouble is, we do not treat him kindly. We
call him a fool. We tell him he has dropsy
in his head, and all that ; and by such crimi-
nal malpractice we have caused many a
case to become chronic. There may be
trouble with his head, but he is not to
blame for that, and we need not remind
him of it. We should rather let him feel
that we respect him, and that we respect his
thoughts. And it would be better to re-
nounce once for all the privilege of lectur-
ing him, to stop trying our arguments upon
him, and simply seek to turn his mind by
our example to the experimental evidences
of Christianity. We can show him what
Christ does for our own lives — not by argu-

In The Day of Doubt 153

ing the matter out, but by living it out in
his presence. We ought so to walk before
him that he will one day wake up and ex-
claim : I do not see any sense in it ; it
is all a mystery ; but there is mother — I see
what it has done for her; there is father, I
see what it has done for him."

A great many attacks of doubt are caused
by attempting to think through a great
mystery of religion without due prepara-
tion or without taking proper precautions.
When you were a boy you did not like to
feel that there was anything another could
do that you could not do. That feeling led
you sometimes into water that was over
your head because another boy had gone
before you ; and it caused you to get lost in
a swamp because some other boy had suc-
cessfully explored it. And since you be-
came a man you have had much of the same
feeling with regard to yoijr brain. You do
i>pt like to admit that what another has

156 The Life Worth While

A young man who has never made a
study of reHgious subjects, and does not
know what to expect, plunges into the doc-
trine of miracles, for example. In a mo-
ment he is lost. Then he becomes con-
fused and begins to flounder about. By
and by some good angel of God may come
along and pull him out. Or he may never
see light. Another who is equipped for
such investigations undertakes the study
of the same object. He also gets lost, but
knowing what to expect he is not dis-
turbed. He has been through the dark be-
fore. He may not see the simshine, but he
knows it is shining. He may not see God,
but he knows God is there. And so he
goes on quietly with his investigation, al-
ways consulting his companionable Bible
and following its guidance. And eventually
he comes out into the light. Some men
have plunged into the thicket with Tom
Paine under one arm and a volume of

In The Day of Doubt 157

Tngersoll's under the other, and they have
never come out.

Many other doubts come from depend-
ing upon the brain to do what it was never
designed to do, and can never be made to
do. "Ye shall seek me and find me, when
ye shall search for me with all your heart,"
says the Book. But the Book also asks :
^'Canst thou by searching find out God?"
Seek God for help, and you will find him,
for he will find you ; but seek God in order
to investigate him, to find out his ways,
and you will never find him though you
seek him till the crack of doom. For God
denies us the right to investigate him. The
brain alone cannot investigate and under-
stand God, or the doctrines of God. Here
is . a little ant crawling in my hand. He
looks up in my face and exclaims : "Ho !
what is this ? A man ! Ah ! I have heard of
him before; he is the creature I want to
investigate. I'll see what he thinks; I'll

1 58 The Life Worth While

understand why he treads on us little fel-
lows so unmercifully." Now the ant is a
very wise insect, but will he find me out?
Will he be able to discover my motive?
Here stands a little scientist in the hand of
God. He looks up and exclaims : "Ho t
what is here? God. Ah! a fit subject for
investigation. I am going to discover his
thoughts; his motives. I am going to see
why he does thus and so." The little ant
crawling in my hand will come nearer
learning my motives than that man will
learn God's. Why? If you want to grasp
a thing you must grasp like with like. Here
is a book. I want to pick it up. Can I
grasp it by an intellectual process? I may
stand by it and think thoughts great enough
to move the intellectual world, but that
book will not move. Can I grasp it with
my spirit? Never. What is this book. It
is material. Then I must grasp it with that
which is material. I can no more pick up
this book by an intellectual process than I

In The Day of Doubt 159

can pick up a thought with a pitch-fork.
With material things we grasp that which is
material ; with intellectual things that which
is intellectual ; with spiritual things that
which is spiritual.

But, says one, "If I cannot grasp God
with my intellect I can still grasp truth with
it." Never! Why? Because truth is spirit-
ual. Here is the great mistake by which
so many intellectual men have fallen into
doubt. They have tried to understand
God's truth by the intellect alone — some-
thing which the intellect cannot do — and
failing therein they have declared that
there is no truth. What, then, can the in-
telect do? It can grasp facts, theories, ar-
guments. Is not a fact truth? No. It is
true, but it is not truth. A fact is the body
in which truth may live as the spirit. A fact
is a thing existent. It may exist to-day
and may be gone to-morrow. Truth is es-
sence— eternal, invisible essence. Truth is
the expression of the divine mind — the

160 The Life Worth While

Word, the utterances of God. 'Thy Word
is truth."

You may train your intellect to grasp
the most subtle facts of nature and yet be
unable to grasp the simplest truth of God.
We have exaggerated the power of the in-
tellect until it has become ridiculous. We
say the brain can do everything. But noth-
ing has been guilty of wilder things ; noth-
ing has yielded greater absurdities, and
nothing is so helpless in the presence of the
spiritual. Whence come your highest and
noblest sentiments? From your brain?
Whence your heavenly motives? Whence
this undying love? — this discernment of
high things? Was it your brain that dis-
covered to you your love for another?
How did you discern what was in that
mother's heart? By your brain ? Why, Pro-
fessor Sophocles, with all his bulging brow
and musty tomes and vile swelling cruci-
bles, old bachelor that he is, can never tell
you.

XXIX

Doubt's Sure^ Remedy

The incident of Peter's walking on the
water suggests one of the most common
causes of doubt. Peter looked upon Jesus.
As he looked, his heart swelled with desire,
and his faith grew higher than the highest
billow. "I will come to you on the water,
Master, if you will only speak the word,"
he said; and Jesus bade him. With his
eyes still upon his Master, he stepped light-
ly out upon the waves. With his eyes upon
his Master, his faith was as outstretched
wings, and he scarcely touched the face of
the water. But suddenly something — a

160 The Life Worth While

Word, the utterances of God. "Thy Word
is truth."

You may train your intellect to grasp
the most subtle facts of nature and yet be
unable to grasp the simplest truth of God.
We have exaggerated the power of the in-
tellect until it has become ridiculous. We
say the brain can do everything. But noth-
ing has been guilty of wilder things ; noth-
ing has yielded greater absurdities, and
nothing is so helpless in the presence of the
spiritual. Whence come your highest and
noblest sentiments? From your brain?
Whence your heavenly motives? Whence
this undying love? — this discernment of
high things? Was it your brain that dis-
covered to you your love for another?
How did you discern what was in that
mother's heart? By your brain? Why, Pro-
fessor Sophocles, with all his bulging brow
and musty tomes and vile swelling cruci-
bles, old bachelor that he is, can never tell
you.

XXIX

Doubt's Sure^ Remedy

The incident of Peter's walking on the
water suggests one of the most common
causes of doubt. Peter looked upon Jesus.
As he looked, his heart swelled with desire,
and his faith grew higher than the highest
billow. "I will come to you on the water,
Master, if you will only speak the word,"
he said; and Jesus bade him. With his
eyes still upon his Master, he stepped light-
ly out upon the waves. With his eyes upon
his Master, his faith was as outstretched
wings, and he scarcely touched the face of
the water. But suddenly something — a

162 The Life Worth WhOe

great billow, perhaps — drew his eyes from
Jesus, and instantly he was overwhelmed
by the fear of Nature. He had been trying
to go contrary to Nature — all-powerful Na-
ture! And with that thought he sank. A
moment before he was the servant of the
Creator; now he was the slave of the crea-
ture. He had forgotten that there stood
one before him who was greater than Na-
ture. Oh ! this idolatrous thought of our
hearts — that Nature is the God of the uni-
verse! That nothing can be true that is
not natural ! It is because we trust Nature
so much that we trust God so little.

You look into the fact of God every day ;
you live much in your closet; you pray as
naturally as you breathe; you listen con-
stantly to his voice; you dwell so close to
him that you feel the very breath of his
love fan your cheek, and your faith never
wavers. But something diverts your atten-
tion from the Divine face for a moment.

Doubt's Sure^ Remedy 1 63

You become absorbed in the things of Na-
ture, the study of Nature — the study of
men, and waves, and tides, and bread, and
clothes, and stocks, and bonds, and rail-
roads, and fevers, and politics — and by-and-
by the face of God becomes so unreal, so
dim, in the distance, that you say, "I don't
know about God. I know Nature."

After all, the great cure for doubt is a
vision of the face of God.

You have a dear friend in a distant com-
munity, whom you have not seen for years.
In the days when you walked together you
trusted him perfectly. Lately you had some
correspondence about a matter of business,
which resulted in a misunderstanding, and
you began to doubt the friend whom you
had once trusted as you had trusted your
own heart. You wrote him sharply, and
he replied, trying to explain ; but you could
not understand. You could not under-
stand because you had begun to doubt him.

164 The Life Worth While

After a while he wrote: ''I can't explain
the matter on paper; I am coming to see
you face to face." And the other day he
came. He walked into your office, and you
looked into his face. He held out his hand
and began to say, **I came to — " "Oh!
never mind," you answered, "that is all
right. I don't understand it, but I can
trust you." The glimpse of his face had
brought you back to where you had stood
in the days of your perfect confidence. And
so, dear friend, yonder is God. You have
been thinking of other things of late, and
the divine face has gradually receded until
you have almost forgotten. And something
has happened of late — some great trial, per-
haps— that has created a misunderstanding ;
you don't know about God now. But come
to him. Come to the secret place of the
Most High, and look again into his face.
Then you will say, "Lord, I don't under-
stand, but I don't need to understand. I
do not know about this great trial, but I
know thee, and I can trust thee forever."

XXX '

In The Hour of Peril

"Like as a father pitieth his children, so
the Lord pitieth them that fear him." And
he also pities his children who in an hour
of peril are overwhelmed with fear of an-
other sort.

It is a truth which we cannot learn too
well, for there is perhaps no other teach-
ing which we are so often tempted to doubt.
We do not doubt it when the sun shines.
We are ready to believe anything that is
told us of God's care for the sparrows so
long as we do not feel that we are as help-
less as sparrows. But let the clouds come

166 The Life Worth While

about our own door and shut out the sun-
Hght from our own windows, and what a
host of doubts will gather! "If God really
cares for me why does he not come to my
help?" — we say in our hearts. And then
we begin to wonder if it is not all a mis-
take. How do I know that he feels toward
me as a father? Why does he not show his
sympathy for me now that I am so much in
need of sympathy? Why should he be so
indifferent to my distress? And so on and
so on. It is so easy — so very easy to feel
when we can no longer help ourselves, that
God is not going to help us.

I wonder if the beautiful picture of Christ
stilling the tempest was not given us for
just such a moment. Certainly, if it does
not answer all our questions it at any rate
puts an end to them, for one cannot look
upon it long without placing his hand upon
his mouth. These storm-tossed disciples
^ere asking, in their hearts, at least, the

In The Hour of Peril 167

rsame sort of questions. "Why does he lie
there sleeping while we are in peril of our
lives?" **Does he really know we are in
peril?" ''Does he really care if we perish?"
^'Could he help us if he were awake?" But
presently common sense asserted itself and
they went to him. That is the only way
to settle a question about Christ; we must
go to him. Their faith was weak, but they
went ; it was the only sensible thing to do.
And when they went they found that all
the trouble was in their own hearts and not
with him at all. He was the same Helper
that he had been yesterday and the day
before. His heart had not changed. His
arm had not grown weak. He was still
able and willing to help — willing in spite
of the smallness of their faith. And he
■did help. In his power the storm was noth-
ing more than a little dog frisking at his
master's feet. He had only to speak and
the wind went down.

168 The Life Worth While

Let us lay this story by the side of our
own experience. You and I have had our
hours of peril when we thought that God
was far away, or as one asleep, and we
were tempted to complain of his seeming
indifference. And yet all the while he had
the sea, and the storm, and our poor selves
in the hollow of his hand. We are ashamed
now that we ever doubted. But the hour
of peril will come again : what are we go-
ing to do ? What will help us to trust him
when we can no longer see him?

XXXI
The Limit of Human Power

There are some things which we can
overcome by our own strength, but a
stronghold of Satan can never be broken
through by human power. There are sin-
ful appetites and tempers within us that
have walls about them so high and strong
that only Divine power can break them
down. It is as foolish for us to try to over-
come these things simply by our own
strength as it would have been for the
children of Israel to try to break down the
walls of Jericho by making battering rams
of their own heads. We are to do our

1 70 The Life Worth While

part, we are to go armed for the fight, we
are to show our faith in God, we are to
praise his name, we are to proclaim his
presence, but only God can break down
the walls.

The same is true with regard to the
strongholds of Satan which we are to over-
come as a people. We are in the habit of
saying that if the good element in society
would unite against the bad element, we
could wipe out the terrible evils which dis-
grace our cities. But the fight against a
great evil is not a fight between good peo-
ple and bad people. It is a fight between
good people on the one hand, and the bad
people reinforced by Satan on the other.
We have miscalcuatel the power intrenched
in these great evils. The devil himself is
in them. Good men may in their own
strength overcome bad men, but good men
cannot by their own strength overcome Sa-
tan. "This kind goeth not out but by

The Limit of Human Power 1 7 1

prayer and fasting." If in the struggle be-
tween the good and bad the bad is sup-
ported by Satanic power, there is no hope
for the good unless it is supported by Di-
vine power. Only God is stronger than
Satan. We are not to be idle. We are not
to let any instrument remain idle. We are
not to leave a stone tmturned. We are to
show ourselves in God's ranks. We are to
stand up long enough to be counted. We
are to be willing to march in sight of the
world, and let the inhabitants of Jericho
laugh at us if they will. We are to lift up
our hearts continually unto God, and show
our faith in the power of God to overcome
evil. We are to praise him always for what
he has done and for what he is going to do,
and we are to be armed and ready to move
when the orders come — in a word, we are
to do what we can; but if the great evils
which afiflict the world are ever to be wiped
out, we must look to God himself to over-

1 72 The Life Worth While

come the hindrances which are greater than
human power.

"By faith the walls of Jericho fell down."
By faith in a Savior who is stronger than
Satan we may overcome Satan's strong-
holds.

XXXII
In The Valley of The Shadow

A holy life does not insure a man from
trouble, but it insures help in trouble. This
ought to go without saying, but there are
thousands of people who have an idea that
if a man will become a Christian every-
thing will go smoothly the rest of his life.
As a consequence, in many instances when
one accepts Christ and troubles follow,
doubts come with them. Indeed there are
few of us who have passed through a time
of great trial without feeling that the Chris-
tian life has not met our expectations, and
many of us have said at such a time that

1 74 The Life Worth While

either God had not kept his word, or we
had misunderstood him. "The strange part
about this awful tragedy," said a friend to
me yesterday, "is that this old man who has
been so overwhelmed with trouble in his
last days is one of the best men I ever
knew; I can't understand it." As if our
Lord had ever said, "Come unto me all ye
that are afraid of trouble and I will give
you an easy time." God would no more
keep us out of trouble than a man would
keep his land from being plowed, his vines
from being prunde, his trees from being
shaken to their roots by the March winds,
his son from being laid upon the surgeon's
table, if thereby his life might be saved.

No, we shall have trouble. We may
have trouble even to the breaking of our
hearts. God has nowhere promised that
the heart shall not break. He has only
promised that it shall not break beyond

In The Valley of The Shadow 1 75

mending. *'He healeth the broken in
heart."

We often need to be reminded of this
when prostrated by a crushing blow. It is
then, if ever, that we feel like reminding
God that he has not kept his word. Has
he not promised that no trial shall over-
take us greater than we can bear? Yes;
but he has not promised that no trial shall
overtake us, and, as for bearing it, there is
time enough to decide about that. Do you
not recall the great sorrow of years ago,
when for weeks you carried about with you
that horrible sensation of something pull-
ing at your heart-strings — how you felt that
your heart was broken, and that you could
never survive, because, forsooth, it was
broken ?

But many a broken heart goes unmended.
Some because they do not want to be
mended, as the mother bereft of her child,
who nurses her sorrow, and proclaims that

176 The Life Worth While

she never wants to recover from it. And
some because the wrong methods are used.
He who depends upon Time to heal a brok-
en heart is putting more on Time's should-
ers than they can carry. Time heals many
surface wounds, but it mends nothing that
is once broken. And he who expects to
heal the wound by dissipation will fail, be-
cause he does no honor to the Heartmaker
thereby.

There is no one so deeply interested in
that heart as He who made it for his dwell-
ing place. And there is no one who under-
stands it so well, and who knows so well
the treatment it needs. "He healeth the
broken in heart and bindeth up their
wounds." And the sooner we can feel this
in the midst of our trouble the better. So
much of time and of light and of joy is lost
because it takes so long to learn where to
find a physician. So many of us never go

In The Valley of The Shadow 1 11

to the healer of hearts until we have tried
all the quack remedies.

We reach the dregs in our cup of sorrow
the moment we imagine that God has for-
saken us. Nothing else in half so bitter.
On the other hand, the bitterest cup over-
flows with honey for him who can read
around its rim the divinely engraved in-
scription, "I will never leave thee nor for-
sake thee."

Bolster up our faith as we may, there
are times when the strongest of all temp-
tations is to feel that God is no longer with
us. And the temptation is only strength-
ened when we turn from ourselves to see
how it has fared with the best of his chil-
dren. Abraham on the mount with uplifted
knife; Jacob, prosperous in young man-
hood, but in old age bereft of his best be-
loved son, and threatened by famine;
David fleeing from Jerusalem for fear of
Absalom; Daniel, the only man in the

178 The Life Worth While

realm who prayed three times a day, thrown
to the lions ; the Son of God himself crying
out in his last agony upon the cross, ''My
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ?"
— these are the scenes which, meeting us
at every turn, send us back to our own sor-
row with the despairing cry, *'Is his mercy
clean gone forever? doth his promises fail
for evermore?"

But God forsakes no man — not even his
enemies. All the expressions in the Bible
which seem to point that way are simply
presentations of the matter from our point
of view. When God says, "I will never
leave thee nor forsake thee," he is not talk-
ing poetically, though it is most beautiful
poetry. He is stating a simple fact, and
binding himself in a plain promise. He tells
us that he is with us, that where he is he
stays, and that whether we see him or not,
we may always know where to find him, be-
cause he changes not. He cannot leave us.

In The Valley of The Shadow 1 79

We may leave him. And that is as it usual-
ly happens ; we run off from him, and ac-
cuse him of running off from us. Then
when we go back and find him just where
we left him, we feel ashamed.

Sorrow is an angel sent from God to do
his bidding — if we are willing.

And only as we are willing. When we
are suffering we often comfort ourselves
with the thought that now God has taken
our salvation in his own hands, and is
purifying us by pain, in spite of ourselves.
*T think surely I will get to Heaven," said
a tired mother, "for I have had so much
trouble." But there is no virtue in trouble.
We count the lashes upon our backs and
treasure up the drops of blood as so many
shekels that will pay our way one day to
Heaven. But the question of the Father
will be not how many strokes were laid
upon us, but how many we bore. You try
to punish your wayward boy, and he re-

180 The Life Worth While

sists your will and spits in your face. You
do not think, when you have finally con-
quered him, that he deserves a stick of
candy for letting you whip him. And it is
the child of that type who usually asks for
the candy, as it is the child of God who
rebels outrageously in suffering that wants
God to give him Heaven because he has
had so much pain.

Whether our sorrow shall yield sweet-
ness or gall depends not so much upon
what is in the sorrow as upon what is in
ourselves.

The first thing to do in trouble is to sub-
mit. The first thing a wayward child does
when he is punished is to ask what in the
world father wants to whip him for. Quiet
submission would lesson the force of the
blows and give opportunity for the reflec-
tion the child needs. It is not of prime
importance for the child of God to know
all about the nature of his affliction ; but it is

In The Valley of The Shadow 181

of prime importance that he should at once
submit and place himself entirely in the
hands of God. Perfect resignation will
enable us to receive every stroke thought-
fully, and will usually enable us to see
through our trouble before we get to its
end.

The next point is to be quiet. Noise in-
tensifies pain. He who cries aloud loses his
hold upon the rebellious nature within,
which must be kept under at any cost.
Don't talk to everybody about your trouble.
Don't fan the flame of discontent. Don't
be forever on the lookout for somebody to
sympathize with you. People who do that
soon forget the only One who can be truly
touched with a sense of our infirmities.
Don't ask everybody around why the Lord
should let you suffer so much.

It is easy to mark every step a sufferer
takes toward Heaven. As we grow in
grace, we endue more gracefully. We be-

182 The Life Worth While

come less noisy. The severest pain of which
we have ever known or heard failed to
drive the smile from the face of a saintly
woman who endured in silence, and be-
tween the paroxysms spoke only of the love
of Jesus.

Finally, pain is purifying when it inspires
prayer and a love for the Word of God.
The sorrow that turns us away from the
Book will never make us saintly. A whis-
pered prayer of submission — not boisterous
begging, but the quiet pleading of a di-
vine promise — is the only medicine we have
known that could quiet the most intense
pain without in a measure destroying the
consciousness of the sufferer.

XXXIII

Comfort In Bereavement

A little slab meeting-house away out in
the mountains, a little coffin resting on a
backless bench in the midst, a little bunch
of red and pink roses tied with a bit of blue
ribbon lying on the lid, and a little knot of
curious, cold-blooded folks gazing now at
the coffin, and now at the figure of a young
man who leans over it with his face buried
in his hands trying to stifle the sobs which
convulse his manly frame. He is not one
of them — you can see it at a glance — and
no heart goes forth toward him because he
has committed the unpardonable sin of be-
ing better than they.

184 The Life Worth While

This was all that I saw at the time but
I remember it was told me by one of his
neighbors who was present, that his young
heart-broken wife was lying hopelessly sick
at home trying to nurse a sick babe, and I
knew that her only earthly comforter had
gone off with her first-born to put it out
of her sight forever. Not forever, for
within a week she too would go. And I
remember the young man himself was ill
and threatened with the loss of his vision.
And they were poor. And they were God's
children.

I have been thinking how that scene tried
my faith. It would have tried yours if you
had been there. Not until I could get away
from the scene of sorrow could I under-
stand the words of comfort which my dumb
lips tried in vain to utter. Nor do I un-
derstand them well now. But I have
learned this much : When I have prayed
for light and do not see it, I do not forget

Comfort In Bereavement 185

that God sees it and it is enough for me
to know that there is Hght. We cannot see
God through our tears ; or if we do it is Hke
the reflection of the sun in troubled waters.
I should not judge my Master by the dis-
torted view I get of him through my tears
any more than I would judge my mother
by the glimpse I have had of her face in a
spoilt mirror.

This simple fact, — that the first burst of
grief is always blinding — fixed in the mind
at the beginning of one's hour of darkness
is worth more than all the help of those
who were "born to solace and to soothe."
The tears which cleanse our vision first
obscure it. This is as true of our intel-
lectual and moral vision as it is of our phy-
sical eyesight. When the heart is over-
whelmed all our views are distorted. Men
appear as trees walking. The look of pity
in the face of God is mistaken for a frown ;
the rod we would kiss appears as a cruel
sword dripping with blood. If your hour

T86 The Life Worth WhOc

of darkness has come sit down and try to-
grasp this fact. Say over and over again
to your heart : This sorrow has bhnded
me ; things are not what they seem ; in my
present condition I cannot afford to trust
my eyes, my judgment, my feeHngs. I
cannot aflford to judge God by what I see
of him through my tears ; I am in no con-
dition to answer these questions which
knock so loudly at my heart ; I must wait ;
there is a whole eternity in which to find
out the truth about God's dealings with
me. Failing to do this you will fall into
mistakes which will add sorrow to sorrow,
and afterwards overwhelm you with hu-
miliation. "I cannot think of God as any-
thing but harsh and cruel," said a mother
to me recently ; "why does he not explain
his conduct to me?" I replied: "If your
little daughter came to you complaining of
your harshness and cruelty and demanded
to know the reason for your conduct, would
you trouble yourself to explain? Would

Comfort In Bereavement 187

you not wait until she was in a mood to
understand and accept an explanation?
And if she changed her attitude and begged
forgiveness for her harshness would you
not quickly take her in your lap and tell
her all?"

How often we delay our healing by con-
tinuing in such an attitude before God that
he cannot tell us anything. It was poor
Job's trouble. He talked and talked, and
his friends talked; but he got no relief.
Then God rebuked him for darkening
counsel '*by words without knowledge,"
and he saw his mistake, confessed that he
had uttered that he understood not, and
""abhorred himself in dust and ashes." "And
the Lord turned the captivity of Job." So
long as grief keeps our eyes closed there
is nothing for us to do but to keep our
mouths closed. David understood this, and
said : "I was dumb ; I opened not my
mouth, because thou did'st it."

When the blinding tears have done their

188 The Life Worth While

work the lips may open with safety, for
they will open with praise. It is hard to
believe it now — in the midst of darkness
that can be felt. But think a moment.
Five years ago your firstborn went home.
You felt then as you feel now; you felt
that you could never think of the little one
again without the horrible sensation of
something gnawing at your heart. But
five long, lonely years have passed and with
them the clouds : the sun shines out now,
and although you may look up into the
clear azure still watching for the glimpse of
a baby face, the sweetest, happiest, blessed-
est thought of your life — the thought whicli
strengthens you when all others fail — is
that you have one precious cherub safe at
home. You would not have her back in
this cold world for all the universe. You
would not have her return to you, for you
are preparing to go to her. And so it will
be with the present sorrow if you will but
look up. Let the tears fall if they will, but

Comfort In Bereavement 189

look up. Solace is for those who seek it.
We may extract sweetness out of woe if we
will, but if we let it alone it will yield only
gall.

There is never a sorrow so bitter but
we seek to add to it. It is easy to fall in
love with misery. Many a broken heart is
never healed because the broken-hearted
one does not want to be healed. Torn from
her child, the mother's first impulse is to
bind her soul to grief. She seeks to keep
her heart bleeding by thinking of what she
might have done, and blaming herself for
the little one's sickness and death. Or,
she probes her heart to find out whether
she is not rebelling against God. It is
wise to examine ourselves, but when the
heart is quivering with pain God would not
have us probe it. If the heart is to be
healed we must let it alone and allow the
Physician to look after it. Be a good
patient; put yourself in the hands of your
Physician and think of him. If you can-

190 The Life Worth While

not think of him, do the next best thing:
think of your glorified child. Not your
suffering child, but your glorified child.
Put yourself in her place. While she was
with you your one thought was her happi-
ness ; you gave your life for her ; you were
wholly unselfish, self-sacrificing. Why
should you descend from this high estate
and give yourself to selfish thoughts ? Why
should you think of your own sorrow when
you can think of her joy? You prayed
that she might be happy : it was hard to
pray for anything else : now that God has
answered your prayer, will you complain
because the answer was so different from
your expectations? In praying for her
happiness did you intend only to pray for
your own happiness?

Put yourself in her place. You torture
your heart continually with the thought of
what she suffered : you cannot help feeling
that God was cruel to allow it ; that he was
cruel not to allow her to remain here with

Comfort In Bereavement 191

you. Does she now torture her heart with
the thought of what she suffered? Does
she care? Looking up into his face does
she think that he is cruel? Put yourself
in her place. How often, when you have
held the precious burden in your lap and
pressed the little hand to your lips and
counted its dimples — how often have the
mists come over you when you have
thought what these little hands would have
to do ! How often your heart has ached at
the thought of the hard, stony paths those
little pink feet would have to tread ! ''Oh,
the world is too hard and cold for my
babe !" you have said over and over again.
Can you be angry with God that he should
agree with you ? Is she angry ? Put your-
self in her place. With all your wealth of
love, did you ever feel that your care would
be sufficient for her? Did you ever feel
satisfied that you were doing all that ought
to be done? Did you not feel that you
were not equal to the responsibility placed

192 The Life Worth While

upon you? Did you not feel that with all
your love and care you could not shield
her as you would like from the hardships
of life? But now she is in the hands of
One who can do the best, and who will do
the best, because his love exceeds even a
mother's love. If we know anything at
all about Jesus, we know that his heart
overflowed with a tender and gracious af-
fection for children. It was natural that
his pure soul should go forth toward those
whose lives illustrated the virtues he so
highly prized. In a world darkened by sin
they were his most congenial companions.
They refreshed his spirit. And he took
them in his arms and laid his hands upon
them and blessed them. Surely you can
never forget that. Can you not give thanks
to God that the tender Shepherd who took
the little ones in his arms nearly nineteen
hundred years ago is the same Jesus into
whose hands you committed the spirit of
your own child when she was called up
higher?

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