Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · May 9, 1871
THE LOVE OF GOD.
By Dudley Marvin Canright
BY ELD. D. M. CANRIGHT.
TEXT: Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God; therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not. 1 John 3:1.
John exclaims, “Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God.” John was the beloved disciple. He it was who leaned on Jesus’ breast. He it was whom Jesus loved. He seems to have drank deeper into the spirit of love and tenderness than any of the other apostles. He is always talking of love. So fully does he become possessed of this idea, that he exclaims, “God is love.” As he has a view of God’s great tenderness and affection for us which he hardly knows how to express, he exclaims, “Behold, what manner of love!”
In his gospel, chapter 3:16, he breaks out thus: “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son.” Yes; God so loved poor, sinning, erring, yet repenting, men, as to adopt them, and call them his sons. We will try to illustrate it:
In a certain village there is a little boy, the child of poverty. He is covered with rags and filth. He is ignorant and untaught. He is despised by all the children of the town. One day, a rich nobleman passing through the town has his attention called to him; takes him into his carriage and takes him home with him. He puts off his rags, clothes him well, is kind to him, sends him to school, and does all he can for his improvement. Indeed, he soon adopts him, and makes him heir with his own children. How truly we might say in this case, “Behold, what manner of love this man has bestowed upon that boy, that he should call him his own son!”
This may well illustrate our condition and God’s love to us. We were poor sinners, covered with filth, iniquity, and with nothing good about us. Isaiah thus forcibly describes a sinner as he appears in the sight of God, Chap. 1:5, 6: “Why should ye be stricken any more? ye will revolt more and more, the whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot even unto the head there is no soundness in it; but wounds, and bruises, and putrefying sores; they have not been closed, neither bound up, neither mollified with ointment.” What a terrible picture this is! From the sole of the foot to the crown of the head, is nothing but wounds, bruises, and putrefying sores. A man in this condition physically would be in a terrible situation indeed.
This is the way that the sinner and unregenerated man appear in the eyes of a good and holy God. In Jer. 17:9, the prophet exclaims, “The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; who can know it?” This is verily true of every human, carnal heart. Not only is the heart full of deceit and subtlety, but it is desperately wicked.
Paul thus enumerates the works of the flesh, Gal. 5: 19-21: “Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revelings, and such like.” Not that any one heart perhaps is guilty of all these crimes; but yet each one has more or less of them. These fruits naturally grow upon the unconverted heart. But God is holy and pure. He hates all manner of sin with perfect hatred. Yet notwithstanding all this, God’s compassion and mercy were touched by our terrible condition, and it has led him to pity us, and to help and save us; and this too before we showed any signs of repentance or turning to God.
Paul thus states God’s wonderful love to us: “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Rom. 5:8. It takes little effort for a friend to love a friend, or to do good to those who first do good to us; but to love an enemy, and one who is in disgrace and poverty; one who can in no way help us to love such a man, under such circumstances, and sacrifice our pleasure for his good, this is a test of love which the world seldom gives. But in this manner has God loved us. John 3:16: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” Such proof has God given of his love that we cannot question it. It led him to deliver up his own Son, the darling Son of his bosom, to suffer agony and death for us. This must have been a sacrifice on the part of God far beyond our power to comprehend.
I once read of a king who made a law against adultery. Whoever should be found guilty of it, should have both his eyes plucked out. The first offender was his own son. What now should he do? His love for his son was great; but he also loved truth and justice. He could not allow his law to be disregarded, the offense must be punished that others might fear. What did he do? He took his son and plucked out one eye, and then had one of his own eyes put out, instead of his son’s other eye. What love this manifested for that guilty son! Could that son doubt that his father had deep affection for him? The great God has given similar proof of his love for guilty man. He delivered up his Son. Ought this not to touch our hearts and lead us to love God?
The illustration of the prodigal son, in Luke 15, most forcibly shows God’s mercy and love for repenting sinners. No sooner did the prodigal come to himself, and start to go to his father, than his father, seeing him a great way off, ran and fell on his neck and kissed him; and did more for him than he asked or expected. Christ gives this parable to teach us how willing God is to pardon those who truly repent.
Christ’s love for his people is as deep as that of his Father, and as thoroughly tested. Think of what he has suffered for us. Says the prophet: “He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. And we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.” Isa. 53:3, 4. All this he truly suffered. He did it willingly, without a murmur, that we might be made whole. He ever manifested a most tender and sympathetic spirit. When Jerusalem had rejected him and was about to crucify him, instead of feeling a spirit of bitterness or revenge toward them, he pitied them. His tender heart was touched and melted; and he wept over them, saying, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not.” Matt. 23:37. Notwithstanding all their hardness of heart, he shed tears for them. See him at Lazarus’ grave with Martha and Mary. They were in affliction, they were bereaved. As he beheld them, it touched the tenderness of his soul. His heart was moved. He groaned in his spirit, and wept with them. What a sight! The Son of God in tears, unfeigned tears that were shed in sympathy with the passing sorrows of human hearts. When Peter denied him, and sinned so grievously, how did the Lord remember him? He turned and looked upon Peter. That look of tenderness and pity melted Peter’s heart. This was all the reproof he gave him. He did not lay it up and sharply rebuke him afterward. He accepted Peter’s repentance, and did not chide him with it afterward.
The psalmist exclaims, “Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him; for he knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are dust.” Can we really believe this? and is it verily true that the great God pities his humble saints as a father pities his children? We know how easily the heart of a kind parent is touched for his children when they come to him with repentance and confession. The psalmist continues: “For he knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are dust.” God does make allowance. He is acquainted with all our weaknesses, and considers us in mercy. Of Christ, Paul says: “Wherefore in all things it behooved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people. For in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succor them that are tempted.” Heb. 2:17, 18. He is a merciful high priest. He is able to succor them that are tempted because he himself has been tempted. Again Paul says: “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.” Heb. 4:15, 16. Christ can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities and our weaknesses. We have weak points, points where Satan frequently attacks us, and often successfully, and we are betrayed into sin. Then we sorrow for it, feel ashamed, and think that perhaps God can no more hear us. Can our High Priest sympathize with us in this? Paul assures us that he can. God knows our frame. Christ has been tempted as we. He knows the power of temptation, and the weaknesses of the flesh. He pities us when we are betrayed into sin, and is ready to intercede for us when we repent. How this should encourage us to return unto God, and never give up trying.
In Isa. 63:9, the prophet says of the people of God, “In all their afflictions he was afflicted.” What testimony from the Spirit of God! Can our hearts believe it? When Paul was persecuting the followers of Christ, Jesus says, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?” Mark, he does not say, Why persecutest thou my followers? No; but, Why persecutest thou me? It was Christ that he was persecuting. Christ felt for his brethren. This is just as true of his followers now as then. In another place, he says: “He that toucheth you, toucheth the apple of his eye.” Zech. 2:8. What figure could express greater care than this? If there is one that expresses more tenderness, perhaps it is Isa. 49:14, 15: “But Zion said, The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me. Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.” Nature does not furnish a figure that could more forcibly illustrate the love of God for his people than this. Can a woman forget her darling babe? We all know the deep, the undying, love of a mother for her child. She will watch it every moment. She will go hungry and tired, weary and sleepless; she would lay down her life for it. Is it in pain? she suffers too. Can she forget it a moment? God says they may forget; yet will I not forget thee.
Poor, doubting, faithless soul, take courage, and believe the word of God. God loves you, and has the tenderest care for you. Do not grieve him by unbelief, by distrusting his affection for you. Trust him with all your heart. Nothing can please him more. Believe in his promises, cast yourself upon his mercy, confide in him, and you will find that the everlasting arms are underneath you.
Such declarations as these that we find in the word of God ought to move our hearts, and would if they were not hardened by sin. May the Spirit of God come into them, and soften them, that they may appreciate God’s love. Paul realized this when he said, “Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and long-suffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?” Rom. 2:4. Yes; it is the love of God that leads man to repentance.
Paul, the apostle, suffered the privation of friends, of home, and of every earthly comfort, and all that the world holds sacred, bearing his back to receive stripes, and giving himself a martyr for Christ. What led him to this? He tells it in one short sentence. Says he, “The love of Christ constraineth us.” 2 Cor. 5:4. Could we get a proper view of the love of God and of Christ for us—could our souls be open to view it—I am sure that our hearts would be melted like wax by it. We would count all our sufferings nothing; we would be ashamed of our murmuring.
Dear reader, have you tasted of the love of God? has your poor heart felt its warming influence? If not, you have never known what joy is. The peace that you might have, you have never felt. Come and taste and see that the Lord is good. The sentiment of my heart is so fully expressed in the following lines that I transcribe them as an appropriate conclusion to the foregoing thoughts:
“Oh! for a glance of heavenly dayTo take this stubborn heart away,And thaw with beams of love divineThis heart, this frozen heart of mine.“The rocks can rend, the earth can quake,The seas may roar, the mountains shake,Of feeling all things show some sign,But this unfeeling heart of mine.“To know the sorrows thou hast felt,O Lord, an adamant would melt;Yet I can read each moving line,And nothing moves this heart of mine.“Thy judgments, too, which devils fear(Amazing thought), unmoved I hear.Goodness and wrath in vain combineTo stir this stupid heart of mine.“But something yet can do the deed,And that blessed something much I need.Thy Spirit can from dross refine,And melt and change this heart of mine.”
WHY DOST THOU WAIT?
Poor, trembling lamb! Ah! who outside the fold
Has bid thee stand, all weary as thou art,
Dangers around thee, and the bitter cold
Creeping and growing to thy inmost heart?
Who bids thee wait till some mysterious feeling,
Thou know'st not what—perchance may'st never
know,
Shall find thee, when in darkness thou art kneeling,
And fill thee with a rich and wondrous glow
Of love and faith, and change to warmth and light
The chill and darkness of thy spirit's night?
For miracles like this who bids thee wait?
Behold! “the Spirit and the bride say, Come,”
The tender Shepherd opens wide the gate,
And in his love would gently lead thee home.
Why shouldst thou wait? Long centuries ago,
Thou timid lamb, the Shepherd paid for thee!
Thou art his own. Wouldst thou his beauty know,
Nor trust the love which yet thou canst not see?
Thou hast not learned this lesson to receive:
More blest are they who see not, yet believe.
Still dost thou wait for feeling? Dost thou say,
“Fain would I love and trust, but hope is dead,
I have no faith, and without faith, who may
Rest in the blessing which is only shed
Upon the faithful? I must stand and wait?”
Not so. The Shepherd does not ask of thee
Faith in thy faith, but only faith in him.
And this he meant in saying, “Come to me.”
In light or darkness, seek to do his will,
And leave the work of faith to Jesus still.
—Sel.
Prayer Is the Wish of the Heart
AN English paper says, pertinently to the ritualistic controversy: “Try to fancy St. Paul spending his whole energies in proving before Felix that he might wear a hat on his head in a synagogue, or that if not, he might carry it in his hand, and then measure the distance between him and his successors.”
A LITTLE deaf and dumb girl was once asked by a lady, who wrote the question on a slate, “What is prayer?” The little girl took the pencil and wrote the reply, “Prayer is the wish of the heart.” So it is. Fine words and beautiful verses do not make real prayer, without the sincere wish of the heart.
KEEP a list of your joys; and let the joy unspeakable and full of glory be the first.
John Gaspard Lavater and the Poor Widow.
It was a practice with Lavater to read every morning several chapters from the Bible, and select from them one particular passage for frequent and special meditation during the day. One morning after reading the fifth and sixth chapters of the gospel of St. Matthew, he exclaimed, “What a treasure of morality! how difficult to make choice of any particular portion of it!” After a few moments’ consideration, he threw himself down upon his knees, and prayed for divine guidance. When he joined his wife at dinner, she asked him what passage of Scripture he had chosen for the day.
“Give to him that asketh thee; and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away,” was the reply.
“And how is this to be understood?” said his wife.
“‘Give to him that asketh thee; and from him that would borrow of thee, turn not thou away,’ are the words of Him to whom all and everything belongs that I possess,” rejoined Lavater. “I am the steward, not the proprietor. The proprietor desires me to give to him that asks of me, and not to refuse him that would borrow of me; or, in other words, if I have two coats, I must give one to him that has none, and if I have food, I must share with him who is an hungered and in want; this I must do without being asked; how much more then when asked?”
This, continued Lavater in his diary, appeared to me so evidently and incontrovertibly the meaning of the verses in question, that I spoke with more than usual warmth. My wife made no further reply than that she would take those things to heart. I had scarcely left my dining room a few minutes, when an aged widow desired to speak with me, and she was shown into my study.
“Forgive me, dear sir,” she said, “excuse the liberty I am about to take—I am really ashamed, but my rent is due to-morrow, and I am short of six dollars. I have been confined to bed with sickness, and my poor child is nearly starving; every penny that I could save I have laid aside to meet this demand, but six dollars are yet wanting, and to-morrow is term-day.” Here she opened a parcel which she held in her hand, and said: “This is a book with a silver clasp, which my late husband gave me the day we were married; it is all I can spare of the few articles I possess, and sore it is to part with it. I am aware it is not enough, nor do I see how I could ever repay—but, dear sir, if you can, do assist me.”
“I am very sorry, my good woman, that I cannot help you,” I said, and putting my hand into my pocket I accidentally felt my purse, which contained about two dollars. These, I said to myself, cannot extricate her from her difficulty—she requires six; beside, even if they could, I have need of this money for some other purpose. Turning to the widow, I said, “Have you no friend, no relative, who could give you this trifle?”
“No, not a soul! I am ashamed to go from house to house, I would rather work day and night; my excuse for being here is, that people speak so much of your goodness; if, however, you can not assist me, you will at least forgive my intrusion, and God, who has never yet forsaken me, will not, surely, turn away from me in my sixty-sixth year!” At this moment the door of my apartment opened, and my wife entered. I was ashamed and vexed. Gladly would I have sent her away, for conscience whispered, “Give to him that asketh of thee; and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.” She came up to me and said with much sweetness:—
“This is a good old woman, she has certainly been ill of late; assist her if you can.”
Shame and compassion struggled in my darkened soul. “I have but two dollars,” I said in a whisper, “and she requires six; I’ll give her a trifle in the hand and let her go.”
Laying her hand on my arm, and smiling in my face, my wife said aloud what conscience had whispered before, “Give to him that asketh of thee; and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.”
I blushed, and replied with some little vexation, “Would you give your ring for the purpose?”
“With pleasure,” answered my wife, pulling off her ring.
The good widow was either too simple or too modest to notice what was going on, and was preparing to retire, when my wife called her to wait in the lobby. When we were left alone, I asked my wife—“Are you in earnest about the ring?” “Certainly; how can you doubt it?” she said. “Do you think I would trifle with charity? Remember what you said half an hour ago; O my dear friend, let us not make a show of the gospel. You are, in general, so kind, so sympathizing, how is it that you find it so difficult to assist this poor woman? Why did you not, without hesitation, give her what you had in your pocket? And did you not know there were yet six dollars in your desk, and that the quarter will be paid to us in less than eight days?” She then added, with much feeling: “Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for the body, what ye shall put on. Behold the fowls of the air; they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your Heavenly Father feedeth them.”
I kissed my wife, while tears ran down my cheeks. “Thanks, a thousand thanks for this humiliation.” I turned to the desk, took from it six dollars, and opened the door to call in the poor widow; all darkened around me at the thought that I had been so forgetful of the omniscience of God as to say to her, “I can not help you. O thou false tongue! thou false heart! If the Lord should mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand?”
“Here is what you need,” I said, addressing the widow. At first she seemed not to understand what I meant, and thought I was offering her a small contribution, for which she thanked me and pressed my hand; but when she perceived I had given her the whole sum, she could scarcely find words to express her feelings. She cried:—
“Dear sir, I cannot repay it; all I possess is this little book, and it is old.”
“Keep your book,” I said, “and the money too, and thank God, and not me; for verily I deserve no thanks after having so long refused your entreaties. Go in peace, and forgive an erring brother.”
I returned to my wife with downcast looks; but she smiled, and said:—
“Do not take it so much to heart, my friend, you yielded at my first suggestion; but promise me that so long as I wear a gold ring on my finger, and you know that I possess several besides, you will never allow yourself to say to any poor person—‘I can not help you.’”
She kissed me, and left the apartment. When I found myself alone, I sat down and wrote this account in my diary, in order to humble my deceitful heart—this heart which no longer than yesterday dictated these words: “Of all characters in the world, there is none I would more anxiously avoid being than a hypocrite; yet to preach the whole moral law, and fulfill only the easy part of it, is hypocrisy.” Merciful Father, how long must I wait, and reflect, and struggle, ere I shall be able to rely on the perfect sincerity of my profession? I read over once more the chapter I had read this morning with so little benefit, and felt more and more ashamed and convinced that there is no peace except where principle and practice are in perfect accordance. How peacefully and happily I might have ended this day had I acted up, conscientiously, to the blessed doctrine I professed. Dear Saviour, send thy Holy Spirit into this benighted heart, cleanse it from secret sin, and teach me to employ that which thou hast committed to my charge, to thy glory, to others’ welfare, and my own salvation!—Set.
And Gashmu Saith It.
“AND who is Gashmu?” Why, simply an Arab renegade, and railer, a confederate and crony of Sanballat and Tobiah, who, having failed to scoff down the work of God, now tries to slander his workmen out of existence. Neh. 2:19; 6:1, 6 (margin).
“And who is Gashmu talking about?” Why, Nehemiah, to be sure, who could not abide in a Persian palace while Jerusalem lay waste; and who, after days and nights of sadness, tears, and prayers, had been prospered of the Lord, and permitted to come to Jerusalem and repair its desolations.
“And what is Gashmu troubled about?” “The desolations of Zion? the ruins of the temple? the captivity of Israel?” Oh, no! none of these. But he sees some one else trying to do something for God, and he wants to hinder it all he can.
“Why did not Gashmu mind his own business?” Perhaps he had no business to mind; may be he thought Nehemiah was handling more money than any one ever dared to trust him with; possibly he conceived that Nehemiah was influential while he was only despicable, and so he wanted to meddle and mar as much as possible.
“How did Gashmu go at it? Did he go and see Nehemiah and talk with him about his work? Did he investigate the character of his undertaking? Did he confer with those best acquainted with the matter?” Oh, no! these things were not in Gashmu’s line of business.
But first he and Sanballat and Tobiah clubbed together, and laughed, and scorned, and sneered; and then, when that availed nothing, they started a batch of falsehoods, and accused Nehemiah of trying to rebel against the king. But through all this dust and smudge, the man of God kept right along with his work, which the Lord had called and appointed him to do.
Then these same worthies sent four times in succession for Nehemiah to come down into some of the villages in the plain of Ono, and talk over matters; so that they might get him in their power and do him some mischief. But Nehemiah kept about his work, sent them word that he was too busy to leave his post of duty to listen to their babblings.
Then the fifth time comes a servant from Sanballat, with “an open letter” in his hand, impudent and insulting, and it read: “It is reported among the heathen, and Gashmu saith it, that thou and the Jews think to rebel, and now shall it be reported to the king according to these words. Come now therefore, and let us take counsel together.”
So they kept at it. Once they tried to frighten him to leave the walls and hide in the temple; but he said “Should such a man as I flee?” But still the lies flew back and forth, fast and furious; nobles in Judah wrote to Tobiah, correspondence was kept up, and Gashmu’s falsehoods were peddled among the heathen outside and the hypocrites within, till the timid were terrified, and the strong made weak; but still Nehemiah kept about his work, which went steadily up beneath his zealous hands.
Gashmu dealt in talk and slander, Nehemiah in stone and timber. Gashmu used lies, and Nehemiah lime. Gashmu peddled his abuse among the scoffers, and Nehemiah cried to God for help, and hurried up the walls which had been broken down. And when the walls were finished, and the chop-fallen foes beheld them, “they were much cast down in their own eyes, for they perceived that this work was wrought by our God.” Neh. 6:16.
Let the servants of God learn a lesson from this story. Gashmu the Arabian is around yet, with his hand against every man, and his tongue like a two-edged sword. And he is at his old business. His stock in trade costs nothing. If he cannot pick up lies by the wayside, he can make them to order about any man who serves the Lord and minds his own business. And so “it is told among the heathen, and Gashmu saith it.”
Well, what of it? Let the old liar lie, like his lying father; you keep at your work. What if the air is thick with lies, and murky with rumors and false reports, keep about your work. Let them lie, you keep building. And if false-hearted friends around you peddle Gashmu’s scandal, still do you keep building up the fallen walls. God will take care of Gashmu and his lies, as he has taken care of other liars before and since. Persistent fidelity will conquer difficulties; the Lord will send prosperity; success will compel silence; the walls when once up can never be talked down; and by-and-by your distrustful friends who have believed and whispered the falsehoods that have so harassed your soul, may have grace to come and own their sin, or sense enough to perceive their folly, and policy enough to pretend that they always had perfect confidence in everything you did.
Let Gashmu talk; only see to it that his talk about you is not true, and you will come out right at last.—The Christian.
Jesus a Present Saviour.
EVERY Christian should feel that Jesus is a present Saviour—a Saviour who enters into all our sufferings, and sympathizes with all our efforts to overcome the world, the flesh, and the devil. Spurgeon, in his usual forcible way, says:—
“It is because of our attenuating, vaporizing, and spiriting, our Lord away, and making him into a myth so often, instead of gripping him with a common-place, practical, firm, realizing faith, that we suffer so much from our troubles. For, brethren, it is a sad cause of trouble to have a phantom Redeemer, a Saviour who gives us only a little indefinite hope about our guilt, but does not literally put it away. This is the seed-bed of all manner of evil weeds. I do not wonder if you are vexed with doubts and fears if you have not realized Christ. Beware, my brethren, of resting with anything short of faith in an actual, literal, living Mediator, for nothing but reality will be of any use to you in the matter. Of course, with a phantom Saviour for real sins, an apparition of a Redeemer for real bondage, you cannot find comfort. Of what use is the appearance of bread and the resemblance of water, to famishing pilgrims in the desert? If you have a phantom helper for real woes, you are the worse for such help. If your Saviour does not actually and practically support you in times of need, and supply your wants and console you under depression, then in what respects are you better off than those who have no helper at all? Jesus is a friend indeed. His grace, love, and presence, are no fictions; of all facts they are the most sure. If I have to carry a real load, and then have a shadow to assist me, I am in truth unassisted. We want true power, force, and energy in our helper, and all that faith sees in Jesus the Lord; but you will readily see how sorrows multiply where Jesus is lightly esteemed.”
Many a poor sinner even imagines Jesus to be an angry spirit, and he cries out for fear. He imagines that Jesus is wrathful and will reject him with indignation. Ah! thou dost not truly realize my Saviour if thou thinkest he would ever reject any one who came to him. When on earth what a physician of souls he was! he mingled with publicans and sinners: he did not talk about them as people having to be looked after, but he actually went after them himself, and suffered one of them to wash his feet with her tears, and wipe them with the hairs of her head. He was wont to touch diseased sinners with his finger as he healed them. He was not a dilettante Saviour; he did not come into this world to save us from supposititious sin and imaginary trouble. There is nothing which is more overlooked, but which ought to be better remarked, about our Lord than his common-sense practicalness. He is utterly devoid of sham and pretence. He is always in the gospel history as real as the scenes of life around him; he never strikes you as theatrical and pretentious. May we all feel that he is really a loving Saviour, a tender Saviour, and a practical Saviour to us. May you know him, may you realize him, and then your sorrows will either come to an end, or be accepted with thanksgiving.—Sel.
How to Read the Bible.
By James Hamilton
To SOME the Bible is uninteresting and unprofitable, because they read too fast. Among the insects which subsist on the sweet sap of flowers, there are two very different classes. One is remarkable for its imposing plumage, which shows in the sunbeams like the dust of gems; and as you watch its jaunty gyrations over the fields, and its minuet dance from flower to flower, you cannot help admiring its graceful activity, for it is plainly getting over a great deal of ground. But in the same field there is another worker, whose brown vest and business-like, straight-forward flight may not have arrested your eye. His fluttering neighbor darts down here and there, and sips elegantly wherever he can find a drop of ready nectar; but this dingy plodder makes a point of alighting everywhere, and wherever he alights he either finds honey or makes it. If the flower-cup be deep, he goes down to the bottom; if its dragon-mouth be shut, he thrusts its lips asunder; and if the nectar be peculiar or recondite, he explores all about till he discovers it, and then having ascertained the knack of it, joyful as one who has found great spoil, he sings his way down into its luscious recesses. His rival, of the painted velvet wing, has no patience for such dull and long-winded details. But what is the end? Why, the one died in October along with the flowers; the other is warm in his hive in winter, amid the fragrant stores which he gathered beneath the bright beams of summer.
Reader, to which class do you belong, the butterflies or bees? Do you search the Scriptures, or do you only skim them? Do you dwell on a passage till you bring out some meaning, or till you can carry away some memorable truth or immediate lesson? or do you flit along on heedless wing, only on the look-out for novelty, and too frivolous to explore or ponder the Scriptures? Does the word of God dwell in you so richly that in the vigils of a restless night, or in the bookless solitude of a sick-room, or in the winter of old age or exclusion from ordinances, its treasured truths would perpetuate summer round you, and give you meat to eat which the world knows not of?—James Hamilton.
Giving Yourself to the Missionary Cause
A YOUNG man, very poor, having no money to put on the plate at a missionary meeting, wrote on a slip of paper, “Myself,” and dropped that in. How many among our readers will say to the Lord, “I will give ‘myself’ to the missionary cause”? May this not be your duty? Come, think of it; pray over it. Jesus gave himself for you.
The Tongue.
By H. Nicola
The tongue was designed by the Creator to express only holy and righteous thoughts, and thereby be a blessing to the race. But this, like many other good things, is wrongly used by many, and will prove a curse in the end. The following are some of the ways in which the tongue is wrongly used, even by many who are trying to be Christians:
First, By speaking vain and idle words. “But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of Judgment; for by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.” Matt. 12: 36, 37. If all could realize this at all times, words would be much fewer and far better chosen.
Secondly, By foolish talking and jesting. This is generally done when one feels cheerful; but Paul says this is not convenient, but rather giving of thanks. Eph. 5: 4. “Is any among you afflicted? let him pray. Is any merry? let him sing psalms.” James 5: 13.
Thirdly, By cursing others. Are any of those who are trying to be Christians guilty of cursing? James says, speaking of the tongue, Therewith bless we God and therewith curse we men. James 3: 9. That the reader may more readily see how cursing is very often done, I will here give one of Mr. Webster’s definitions of the word: “To bring great evil upon; to be the cause of serious harm or unhappiness; to vex, harass, or torment; to injure.” In the light of this definition of the word, how many have been cursed by the tongue of the slanderer, the backbiter, and tale-bearer?
There are those who would not be guilty of raising a slanderous report against another, yet would not hesitate to utter and help to circulate one. The wise man says that he who does this is a fool. Prov. 10: 18. And David, in describing what kind of a character shall abide in the tabernacle, says, He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbor. Ps. 15: 3.
Another very common way of cursing is by speaking angry words, and fretting and scolding. Who can estimate the evil that originates from the tongue of the fretter and scolder? Thousands of families are made miserable and unhappy by irritating words. Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not so to be. Doth a fountain send forth at the same place sweet water and bitter?
It is no small matter to curse others with the tongue. If we curse our fellow-creatures who are made in the image of God, and have God for their father, we offend God and he cannot accept a blessing from us. Perhaps this is one reason why so many of our prayers are so weak and powerless, and do not seem to go any higher than our heads.
Says James, The tongue is a little member, and boasteth great things. It is a fire, a world of iniquity, it defileth the whole body, it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison; but no man can tame it. James 3.
How then can it be managed? There is only one way, and that is to always keep it bridled. “If any man among you seem to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue, this man’s religion is vain.” James 1: 26.
Every word should be considered before the tongue is allowed to utter it. “The heart of the wise teacheth his mouth, and addeth learning to his lips,” Prov. 16: 23. “Whoso keepeth his mouth and his tongue, keepeth his soul from troubles.” Prov. 21: 23. “He that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile.” 1 Pet. 3: 10. H. NICOLA.