Guide-Boards Towards Heaven.
By Cuyler
IN our last article we offered a few practical directions to the seeker after Christ. Our aim was to point out the entrance-gate to the way of life. But when the seeker has become the joyful finder—when he has once fairly entered on the straight and narrow path, does his need of guidance cease? Can he find his way alone to heaven? No! More than ever he needs to say, Thou must guide me by thy counsels, if afterwards thou wouldst receive me to glory. Let us run our eye along that heavenward path, and observe some of the pilgrims within it, and the guide-boards which the Lord of the way has prepared for their direction and encouragement. The first one that meets our eye is a timid doubter. He is one of a numerous household; as John Bunyan would phrase it, he came out of the land of Unbelief, and some of its black soil still sticks to his garments. He is the man who always sees lions in the path; their roaring frights him out of many a duty, and long ago robbed him of anything like a firm, tranquil assurance of salvation. His lips never yet could bring out the full round utterance, “I know whom I have believed.” He crept in at the entrance-gate, shivering as if an ague was upon him. His first prayer nearly took away his breath, and he never would have got in at all but for the motto over the gate, “Knock, and it shall be opened to you.” Public profession was another sore trial to him. He doubted his change of heart; he doubted his ability to be any thing else but a stumbling-block and a reproach to the church of Christ. He never can be drafted into any very severe or laborious service; for he is “laid up” a good part of the time, and when he sets out on duty, walks with a sad limp in his ankles. For new enterprises involving hard work and strong faith he has no stomach; he doubts “whether they are needed,” or, if undertaken, “whether they will succeed.” While happier Christians chant hallelujahs, he always sings bass; and has serious fear whether he will even join in the song of Moses and the Lamb. The best feature of his spiritual character is his tenderness of conscience. He hates sin cordially. He is a true disciple, for he fears God; he is not a buoyant, gladsome disciple, for he does not trust God at all times, and “rejoice in the Lord always.” I would like to point this timid brother to three guide-boards placed up on the roadside for the especial encouragement of such Christians as himself. “My grace is sufficient for thee.” “Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thy heart.” “Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown.” Now here is a single specimen of the divine counsels which God has graciously affixed to the good man's pathway, to guide him to glory. The king's highway is lined with them. They shine131on every hand. They look down from every turn of the path; they gleam out in dark places; they illumine the valleys of the shadow of death. The Christian never finds himself in a strait or an emergency but God has a “counsel” for him. The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes. Unto the upright there ariseth light in darkness. Are you perplexed, my brother, as to some puzzling question of duty? Then look up to the guide-board and you will read, “If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of the Lord, who giveth liberally.” “Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart.” Are you sitting by an open coffin, or beside a new-made grave? Try to read through the fast welling tears these precious words which an oldtime saint traced on a stone by the wayside. “Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” If you could read that blessed line in the identical language in which Paul wrote it, you would find that the words mean—a glory exceeding all excess. Oh! what are tears and groans and weary days of penury, and lonely nights of bereavement, to one who is looking not at the things which are seen, but to the things that are unseen! What is coarse raiment to her for whom the white robe is waiting? But it is not only to the perplexed and the bereaved that God giveth his counsels. There are guide-boards for every man. The restored backslider—still lame from his recent fall, and still soiled with the mire on his white garment—readeth his solemn warning as he walks: “Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.” Upon that same wayside another reads, “Be ye not conformed to the world; whosoever will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God.” What a pity the man had not looked at the guide-board before he went a few nights since to the opera-house, and from thence to a wine-supper! Worst of all, it was the night for his church prayer-meeting! We cannot, in this brief article, point to one hundredth part of the divine counsels inscribed along the road toward heaven. The church-member reads, “So walk as ye have Christ for an example.” The pastor reads, “Keep thyself pure; shun not to declare the whole counsel; make full proof of thy ministry.” The dear mother reads, “Bring up this child for me, and I will give thee thy wages.” Even the lambs of the flock can read with childish eyes, “Obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” And all along the narrow, uneven, perilous pathway the great Lord of the pilgrims has stretched one solemn, vivid admonition: What I say unto you, I say unto all, watch. With such blessed counsels doth our heavenly Father guide us. He guides over mountain tracks and through valleys of lowliness; guides us where our own foresight is at fault, and our own wisdom is but folly. He guides us in safety to the last, and then—what then? “Afterwards he receiveth us to glory.” Not yet. Afterwards. The guidance must be ended before the glory begins. Remember that. We must not grow homesick too soon. After a little more clambering of steep cliffs of duty, after a little more seed-dropping of the truth, and waterings of the seed with anxious tears, after the mission our Master gave us has been wrought out, then cometh the glory! Good old David had but one short, all-comprehending word for this endless rapture. He sums it all in the single word “glory.” It is a rainbow word, composed of seven distinct hues of truth, all beautifully blended. A light that floweth out from the eternal Godhead—a knowledge which reveals all the hidden mysteries taught us by Jehovah himself—a purity which walks in white among the seraphim—a peace that passeth all understanding—a love born of the Redeemer’s wounds on Calvary—a joy forever unsullied by a single fear—a holiness as lustrous as that worn by the Bride of the Lamb. These are the seven colors that blend into the one dazzling and insupportable brightness! No earthly eye hath yet seen it. No earthly ear hath heard its unending swell of harmonies. No human heart hath conceived it. The glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. Oh Redeemer! guide me with thy counsels, if afterwards thou canst receive me to such an exceeding and eternal weight of GLORY!—Cuyler.