Standing there by the window, she now meditated over it. Oh, if she had been more tender! If she had only exercised more self-control! If she had kept back those hasty words! It was quite true that Tom had been very careless. Still, she knew that he too loved the flowers. He did not mean to destroy one. Louise loved Tom, and because of this she felt all the more deeply what she had done. He was gone now, she knew not where. She would be glad to apologize to him and beg his pardon if he were there. She decided that she would tell him as soon as he returned, and that gave her some satisfaction, but it did not take away the cloud. She thought of how bright the morning and how light and care-free her heart had been! But now her day was clouded, and worst of all, she had made the cloud herself, by her own haste.

That is often the way it is with us. We make so many of our own clouds in life. Clouds often come over our lives from the actions of others; sometimes they come through circumstances that can not be helped; sometimes they come from Satan himself. Such clouds as these do not have the effect upon us that our home-made clouds do. The things that are hardest to bear are the things that we feel we have brought upon ourselves. These get closer to us than anything else. They have a sting to them that nothing else has. Many times people do things that try us; but if we also do or say something hastily at that time, it will increase our trial and make it the more difficult to bear. It will make the clouds that come all the darker. If we have not been as kind as we ought to have been, if there has been a sharpness in our words, or if we have manifested our displeasure at something in a way that showed our feelings too much, it is sure to bring a cloud over our day.

The more tender our consciences, the more we shall feel these things and the more the tendency will be to cloud our days. It is true that we shall feel displeased over things, and it is very natural to manifest our displeasure in some way. Some people are very impulsive and speak before they stop to think what they are saying or what the result will be, and thus they are continually making clouds for themselves. There are times when we must resolutely take hold of ourselves when the feeling of displeasure comes, as it is sure to do. The will must grapple with these emotions quickly and not let them get into action. Our wills were given us to rule ourselves with. When tempted to be unkind or to be hasty in our words and actions, we should say within ourselves: "I will not speak hasty words. I will control myself and keep sweet. I will be patient; I will be kind. I will do as the Lord would have me to do." Then we should put these resolutions quickly into action. Instead of the trial bringing a cloud over us, the fact that we have conquered ourselves and kept ourselves in the attitude that we should hold toward God and toward others will make the sunshine all the brighter.

Conquer yourself; set a watch before your lips. If you are of an impulsive disposition, you may fail again and again, but do not be discouraged, keep up the fight. You will win in the end. You will reach at last the place where self-control acts automatically, where you will think in time. If you fail and the clouds come, endure them patiently, resolving to do better the next time. Do not let yourself be crushed under the circumstance. Do not let yourself be so discouraged that you think that there is no use in trying, that you never will overcome. Keep up the fight; you will yet come out conqueror.

Sometimes people feel that God is leading them to do a certain thing; they feel strongly impressed to do it. They see an opportunity; then, perhaps through timidity or indecision, they let the opportunity pass by, and when it is gone they feel bad because they failed to improve it. How they regret not having done it! If they had another opportunity, they would not let it slip. But it has gone. In vain do they wish for it again. They have failed, and that failure brings a dark cloud over them. It is another home-made cloud. They can not blame anyone else for it—not even Satan. But they do blame themselves, and sometimes to such an extent that it takes the joy and sweetness out of the day, and possibly out of several days. If we have done such things, it does no good to heap reproaches upon ourselves. That only makes our clouds darker. The way out is to open our hearts to God and tell him all about it, asking him to help us to be more courageous, more diligent to take advantage of our opportunities, and more faithful to follow his leadings. Let us resolve in our hearts that we will do this, then go cheerfully about it.

Frivolous or foolish conversation or actions sometimes bring clouds over our sky. The Spirit reproves us and we see our fault. To chide and condemn ourselves does no good. The only profitable thing for us to do at such times is to be open-hearted and frank toward the Lord and tell him about it, to ask his help that we may do better the next time, and to determine in our hearts that we will do better. I do not mean that we should get into bondage. God wants us to be free, to live naturally, and not to live under a strain, but to exercise a proper degree of caution.

I suppose we all have regrets and come more or less short of our ideals at times. But if we are as careful and as true as we ought to be, we shall not have so many of these home-made clouds; but if we do have them, let us bear up patiently. It will do no good to chastise ourselves. The only thing we can do that will be profitable is to trust in the Lord, and go ahead until the darkness passes away and the sun shines again. Let us be true to God and hold fast our confidence and our decision to serve him and be ready to confess our faults before him. He will treat our faults as faults, not as sins. He will not cut us off for such things. He will have mercy upon us and will show his loving-kindness toward us. Let us therefore trust in him and make as few of these home-made clouds as possible.



TALK THIRTEEN. IT PLEASED THE LORD TO BRUISE HIM

It is a mystery in the minds of many why Christian people often have to suffer. With all the promises of physical healing, they still are many times in pain, notwithstanding God's faithfulness and his omnipresence. They also suffer temptations, persecutions, and soul-conflicts. How can we explain these things? How can we harmonize these with the teachings of a loving God? When we read Paul's experience, we find it largely a record of privation and suffering, of sorrow and heaviness. It is true that in it all there is a note of joy and an unquenchable shout of victory, but nevertheless soul, mind, and body often had to endure the lash of pain. Did God love him? Why, then, must such things be?

God loved Christ with a perfect love, but we read that "although he had done no violence, neither was any deceit in his mouth, yet it pleased Jehovah to bruise him; he hath put him to grief" (Isa. 53: 9, 10, A.S.V.). What strange language! He had done no evil, he was guilty of nothing, and yet "it pleased the Lord to bruise him." Is it true that love is tender, the tenderest of all things, and yet can bruise and find pleasure in it? But this is just what happened. Jesus, the innocent Lamb of God, was "smitten, stricken of God." When we remember Gethsemane, the crown of thorns, the cruel cross, it does not seem an act of love for God to give his Son over to such suffering; yet it was love, truest love. Why did God thus deal with him? It was not because the Father-heart did not feel that agony. It was the only means to an end, and love desired that end so much that it pleased it to make the great sacrifice that out of it might come the infinite joy of a world's redemption.

There is nothing that brings Christ so close to men as his sufferings; there is nothing that makes men trust in him so much as the story of those last days. If that story were taken from the pages of the Bible, what would Christ be to us? Only a great teacher whose morality was high and wonderful, though to us unattainable; but with this record added, he becomes a Savior and makes his righteousness attainable by us all. Had he not suffered, he could not have brought us to God. How much poorer we should be today without the story of Gethsemane and Calvary, without knowing that "it pleased the Lord to bruise him" and that out of his sighs and tears and groans has flowed into our hearts a fountain of joy and love and tenderness whereby we have been enriched and the angels of God have been caused to sing a song for joy!

If God was pleased to bruise his own beloved Son, need we marvel if he is sometimes pleased to bruise us? If we are sometimes bowed down with grief, if anguish takes hold upon us, if the sky grows dark above us, and if God seems to have turned away, is it any proof that he no longer loves us? Is it not only the proof that God sees something to be accomplished that can be accomplished in no other way, and that he is pleased for the sake of that gain to let us suffer? The things that are worth while come through pain. Joy does not make us stronger nor bring us nearer God; nor does it refine, ennoble, or enrich us. The pure gold comes from the fire only and the tempered steel also must have passed through the flame. God would have us pure as gold and as strong as steel, and to have us so he can not spare the flame. We must pass through the furnace of affliction. We are told that God "doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men" (Lam. 3: 33). It is only that something may come out of it that will be better and more blessed than could have been without it.

We know in reality only what we know by experience. Those who would be instruments in God's hands to help others must often have a preparatory training-course in the school of suffering; how else could they know how to help others? Brother, sister, has God called you to do a work for him? If so you need not marvel if he lets the rod of pain be laid upon you. If you have hindrances which seem to shut up the way before you, if you have trials that you can not understand, if you have disappointments and perplexities, if you have spiritual conflicts that threaten to overwhelm you, do not think it strange. How can you teach others how to bear such things if you have not borne them? How can you know the way out for others if you have never gone that way? How can you teach others to look for the blessings in these things if you have not their fruitage in your own life? Those who have suffered most can enter most into the sufferings of others.

The successful worker will find that the strength and wisdom that bring him success was the gift of pain, and had not pain brought him strength and knowledge, success could not now be his. Likewise sometimes we must suffer for others if we would save them. So if you would be a worker for God and know how to enter truly into the sorrows and needs of others, you must yourself drink the bitter cup and feel the chastening rod.

After the Lord called me to his work, I endured some great soul-conflicts. In them I suffered inexpressibly. I almost despaired at times, but I look back upon those things now as being the things that made me understand the human heart, that gave me a broader sympathy, and that have since enabled me to enter into the sorrows and needs of others and to minister comfort and help as I could not otherwise have done. Those early sufferings unlocked a thousand mysteries and enriched not only my own life but also the lives of others. Endure these things with patience; for out of them will come to you that which is more precious than gold. If you do not suffer, you can be of little use to those who do suffer. The promise is, "If we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him."

Abraham suffered in that one supreme sacrifice, but his example of faithfulness in the test has enriched millions of souls. Job suffered not only physical agony but the keenest and deepest of spiritual agony, yet that suffering was only an opportunity for God to manifest his mercy and kindness. How much Job learned of God by enduring through these dark days and how much the world has learned! If we should take out of the Bible the record of suffering and its results that are written there, we should take out of it all that is best and noblest and most helpful and encouraging. How much poorer we should he if the sacred record told only of joy and peace and comfort, if it spoke only of victory and achievement, and told us nothing of the hard road that leads up to them! If the Lord chastises us, it is "for our profit"; if God smites, it is only to enrich; so bear with patience, endure as seeing him who is invisible. Be "patient in tribulation," drink the cup of your Gethsemane, wear your thorny crown without complaint, endure your Calvary; for unto you is given both to suffer and to reign with him.



TALK FOURTEEN. PUTTING CLOUDS OVER THE SUN

A little boy was walking down the street rejoicing in the possession of a bright new penny. He was going to buy some candy with it. He could almost taste it already, but just then he dropped his penny upon the sidewalk. An older boy seized it and started off. The little boy began to cry and demanded his penny, but the other boy only laughed derisively. It was a mean trick. It spoiled the whole day for the boy, and ever after when he thinks of the incident, he will have an unpleasant feeling. The older boy put a dark cloud over the little fellow's sun that day, and the shadow will be cast upon him through other days.

A number of persons were sitting in a room talking over a matter. During the conversation one man made a charge against another, comparing him half contemptuously with a man whose conduct had been quite unbecoming. The charge was like a dagger in the man's heart. He knew it was both untrue and unjust. He was conscious of the uprightness of his conduct. He had always held the other man in high esteem, and to be thus publicly wounded by him was almost unbearable. He made no defense, but he went out of that room with an aching heart, humiliated and wronged. His friend had put a great cloud over his sun. Years have passed, but the darkness of that cloud has not yet all passed away. When he thinks of the injustice, there is still a pang in his heart. He does not feel bitter toward the other; he has forgiven; but the close tie has been broken. He has never since been able to confide in the one who did him such an injury.

A faithful minister had labored for years for souls. He had been successful; he had been a blessing to many. One day a certain person spoke of him half jestingly in a manner that aroused the suspicions of some others who were present. These suspicions grew until they became whispers, and the whispers grew till they became open charges. The minister could not prove them to be false. They hindered his labors. They bowed down his head with sorrow. Some one had put a cloud over his sun and over his name, and for years the dark shadow of it rested upon his life.

How easy it is to put a cloud over some one's sun, to make some life dark that might have been bright! It may seem only a little thing, but sometimes a little cloud can make a dark shadow. We may not see either the cloud or the shadow, but the heart that is darkened both sees and feels. How many times parents, by unkind words or actions, becloud their children's sky! One way in which parents do this is by telling the faults of their children to visitors, in the presence of the children. There is scarcely anything more disheartening to a child than this. He feels humiliated and hurt. He feels, and justly feels, that he has been mistreated. It sinks down into his soul and rankles there. It discourages him, and if it is often repeated he comes not to care if he is at fault. Constant reproof and faultfinding make a child's life gloomy and sad. That is not the way to cure faults; it is the way to make them worse.

I once knew a young saint who had a rich experience of salvation. A certain relative who opposed her religion began finding fault with her and kept doing so at every opportunity. The result was that that young life was beclouded and a deep melancholy settled down over her. Her cheerfulness gave way to sadness and moroseness. The song of joy, once so often upon her lips, was stilled. Some one had put a cloud over her sun, and her life was never what it otherwise might have been.

Children may darken the hearts and lives of their parents. How many times is the mother-heart or father-heart grieved by the conduct of the children! It may be that they are only thoughtless, or they may be disobedient and wilful. Young people, cherish your parents, try to make their lives as bright as you can. They have many cares. These are enough for them to bear without your adding a single one. When you have grown older and they have gone out of your life, you may look back with a pang of regret at the times when you caused their hearts to ache. Brighten their lives while you may; then when you look into the open grave where Father or Mother is being laid to rest, your conscience will not smite you.

We are told that "no man liveth unto himself." There is a circle of influence about our lives that affects every other life that we touch. We brighten or darken the lives about us. We lighten or make heavier the burdens of others. Every unkind word or look makes a shadow on some life. Every slighting remark, every sarcastic fling, every contemptuous smile, puts a cloud over somebody's sun. Lack of appreciation has darkened many a life. How much better it would be to take away the clouds, to banish the gloom! You can do this just as easily as you can bring clouds. It is just as easy to speak kind words as to speak unkind ones, and you will feel much better over it yourself. You can encourage and help, you can speak words of appreciation. When people please you, let them know it. When people do well, or even when they try to do well and fail, you can show that you appreciate their efforts. You can be cheerful and courteous and kind. That will make sunshine for others. There are enough clouds in life at best in this world of sorrow. Be a sunshine-bearer. Drop a little good cheer into every life you touch. No matter what you are by nature, you can form the habit of being cheerful and encouraging. Even when you have heavy burdens yourself, you can be encouraging and helpful to others.

Do not let your troubles be mirrored on your face. One's face can smile and his words can be cheery if his own heart does ache. I am not writing a mere theory. I know what pain and gloom and heaviness are. I know what burdens are. During the first few months of my illness every one knew how I felt. My face told the story without words. I finally saw that that would not do, and deliberately set to work to get the gloom out of my face and out of my words. You who read what I write know something of my success. You can do the same.



TALK FIFTEEN. WHAT IS YOUR WORD WORTH?

Everything is measured by some standard of value. Material things are measured by length, breadth, weight, density, usefulness, or intrinsic value. Character also has its standard of measurement. Some people are valued more highly than others, whether in the community, in the church, or in the nation. People are valued, not for their physical size or weight, but for their abilities and more especially for their characters. In a Christian the special thing of value, and the only special thing, is his character. If one's character is not of a higher and better quality than that of people in general, one has no right to the name Christian.

The quality of ones character is indicated in various ways. One's words are generally a clear index to one's character. A person is judged by them, and his value is reckoned by the reliance that may be placed upon his word. We know some on whose word we fully rely. If they tell us anything, we believe them. If they make us a promise, we do not expect it to he broken. We rely upon them because they have shown by their conduct that they themselves place a high value upon their own word. Of such persons it is often said, "If he says it is so, it is true," or, "If he makes a promise, he will fulfil it." Such men wield a strong influence in a community. People can easily believe and trust in their character. It is a sad fact that such individuals are the exception rather than the rule, even among professed Christians. How many times promises are made only to be broken or forgotten! This is a grave matter and marks a serious defect in Christian character. We should never make a promise unless we fully expect to fulfil it, and we ought to feel under deep obligation to keep our promise. If we are careless and neglectful of this, it is sure to lower us in men's esteem, and we shall be cheapened and discredited.

Hasty Promises.

Many times promises are made hastily. The person does not stop to consider what he really is promising; he does not weigh its meaning. He says, "Yes, yes, I will"; but later when he thinks the matter over, it looks different to him. He is sorry that he made the promise, and begins to look for some way out so that he will not have to fulfil it.

These hasty promises are just as binding as any others. If we ignore them and do not make our word good, the persons to whom we have made them will have just reason to condemn us. It is easier to make promises than it is to fulfil them. Beware of making haste to promise. Think about the fulfilment. Think whether you really want to do, or really will do, what you promise. Consider your promises binding. Have the fear of God before you just as much in this matter as in other things. If you wish people to value your word, you must show that you value it yourself. If you do not value it enough to keep it, do not expect others to value it. If you value your word, it will make you careful about your promises—careful in making them, careful in keeping them.

Do not make rash promises. Consider what you are promising. Is it something that you can perform? Consider your ability and what things may hinder. Have you any just reason to suppose that you can fulfil it? Would it be wise for you to do it? Would it be best? Have you made other promises that will conflict with it? Remember that when you once promise, if you do not keep your word your failure leaves a shadow upon your character in the mind of the one you promised unless there is some good and sufficient reason to excuse you in his sight.

Do not make careless promises. The Bible tells us that in our planning we should say, "If the Lord will"; that is, we should take in to consideration that the unexpected may happen. We do not know the future; therefore we ought not to make our promises too positive. We ought to qualify them so as to allow for hindrances.

We ought to be honest in making our promises. Many promises are made when there is no intention of carrying them out. Many people, rather than to say no, will promise and then refuse to perform, thereby making themselves liars. They have not manhood enough to refuse and honestly tell why, so they make a promise and break it. That is the coward's way out. It is the dishonest way out.

Some people say, "If the Lord wills, I will do so," when they do not consider the Lord in the matter at all, but simply mean, "If I do not change my mind." Do not throw the odium on the Lord. If you think you may change your mind, do not commit yourself definitely. If you are not fully decided, do not be afraid to say that you do not know what you will do. Be honest enough to let the other know the state of your mind. Be honest in making promises; be honest in fulfilling them.

Fidelity to Promises.

Do not make too many promises. He who is too free to promise, places little value upon his promises. He forgets them readily or lets some trifle hinder the performance of them. He always has a ready excuse to ease his conscience and to release himself from the obligation. This indicates a want of character, a lack of real sincerity.

When you make a promise, do not forget it, do not break it. Never disappoint people when you can help it. They feel disappointment as keenly as you do. There is an old saying that "promises are like pie-crust—made to be broken." Are your promises of the pie-crust variety?

Possibly you have heard the story of the old deacon. A man came to him one day to endeavor to get him to fulfil a promise that he had made. The deacon refused. The other urged and entreated him, but still he refused, and finally said, "The Bible says that we should let our words be yea, yea, and nay, nay; and my words are so." "Yes," quickly retorted the other, "when you are asked to make a promise, they are yea, yea; but when you are asked to fulfil it, they are nay, nay." This is one brand of yea-and-nay Christians, but not the kind in whom God delights or man trusts.

When you make promises, keep them. They are a test of your character. I do not mean that you should be under bondage to your promises. Sometimes we fully believe we can and will perform them, but later find that it is impossible. In such a case we should explain matters and so relieve the mind of the one to whom the promise was made and show him that the failure to make good our word is not due to neglect or unwillingness. Keep your business promises. Many persons get into debt and promise to pay and then just let things drift along. This is wrong. Pay your debts when you agree to, or give a reason for not doing so, and let it be a reason, not an excuse. If you promise to do work for some one, do it. Keep your promise if you must sacrifice to do so.

Many parents are very careless and inconsiderate regarding their promises to their children. Children will "tease" for things if allowed. Too many times parents make promises that they do not expect ever to fulfil, just to be rid of the children's asking. Children soon learn the value of such promises, and they learn the value of your character. Do not lie to your children; do not make promises to them unless you mean them. If you make promises to them and then are not able to keep them, value your word enough and their respect enough to explain to them the reason.

Reader, what is your word worth? What value do you place on it? What value do others place on it? What value does God place on it? God wants you to "speak the truth, and lie not." Your standing, your influence, your usefulness—all depend upon your faithfulness; and if you are faithful, you will be faithful to your promises. Think seriously over these things. If you are at fault, set about to amend. Such a fault will be a blight upon your life and upon your character until it is corrected. When the Psalmist pictures a righteous man, he says that he "sweareth [promiseth] to his own hurt, and changeth not." Are you that sort of righteous person?



TALK SIXTEEN. HOW TO KEEP OUT OF TROUBLE

Old Uncle John was not so spry as he had once been. There were only a few black hairs left among the many gray ones. His limbs were shaky and his steps faltering. He was "no good for work any more," he said; but there were two things that he kept on doing right along: he seemed to be always smiling and he seemed to be always praising the Lord. "Happy John," people called him, and he certainly deserved the name. He did not seem to have much of this world's goods to make him glad. His lot in life did not appear to be more than usually pleasant, nor was there anything in the way of external evidence to show whence his happiness came. I had often sat and gazed upon his placid face lifted in devotion to God. He never seemed to get into trouble. No matter what happened, Uncle John seemed to have no part in the trouble. With others, troubles came and troubles went, but Uncle John still smiled and praised the Lord.

One day I was standing outside the meeting-house with a little company of brethren, when Uncle John came walking out, smiling as usual and praising the Lord. One of the brethren said to him, "Uncle John, how does it come that you are always so happy and never seem to get into trouble?" He stopped and looked at the speaker with a broad smile, and answered, "I just praise the Lord and mind my own business." He turned and walked away, but his words lingered in my ears and were indelibly impressed upon my memory. His secret was very simple, but very effective. And thus he went on smiling, praising the Lord and minding his own business, and he was "happy John" even to the end. Many years ago he went to his reward, but the lesson that I learned that day has never been lost.

Uncle John's rule for keeping out of trouble seemed very simple. It looks very easy to mind one's own business, but it is one of the hardest things in the world to do, because it is one of the hardest things in the world for us to be willing to do. The Scripture says, "Every fool will be meddling," and it is so hard for some folks not to act like fools, anyway in this particular respect, even though they are ever so wise. The affairs of others are so interesting to them! This is a very human trait, but it sometimes leads to unpleasant consequences.

God knew the failing of people on this line, so he said, "Study to be quiet, and to do your own business" (1 Thess. 4: 11). You have, no doubt, studied a great many lessons, but have you studied this particular one? It is evident that many have not yet learned this if they have studied over it. Probably they did not know that it requires studying. Possibly they never thought of it as being an object for study. But it is. We shall never graduate in the school of wisdom until we study this lesson and learn it thoroughly. "Study to be quiet and to do your own business." That is the lesson. Have you learned it? Some folks are always talking, talking, talking. There seems to be no end to their talk. When people talk so much they are sure to talk of some things that should not be talked of. Some people can not keep an experience of salvation because they talk too much, and as a result they have a great deal of spiritual trouble that might be avoided. But, then, they are so interested in their friends and neighbors! How can they help talking about them? Why, just let them spend their time in studying to be quiet. Let them give themselves a few lessons in minding their own business.

Peter had that human trait. He was interested in what John was going to do. When he asked the Lord, "What shall this man do?" he received an answer. He did not have to wait for it. It was this, "What is that to thee? Follow thou me." I have known many good Christian people who became mixed up in neighborhood or family affairs and got into a great mess of trouble because they failed to mind their own business. If there is a dog-fight going on, all the dogs in the community seem to want to join in it. There seems to be something in humanity that is very much the same. If there is trouble in the community they want to mix into it some way or another. Trouble is a thing that is much easier to get into than it is to get out of.

More people get into trouble through the wrong use of their tongues than through any other means, I suppose. The Wise Man says, "He that keepeth his tongue keepeth his soul from trouble." He also says, "The beginning of strife is as when one letteth out water." You know how it runs in every direction, so that you can not gather it up again nor confine it. Never meddle with the strife of others. You are sure of an abundant crop of trouble if you do. It is written, "He that passeth by and meddleth with strife belonging not to him is like one that taketh a dog by the ears." You know how that is: if he holds fast he will get into trouble, and if he lets go he will get into trouble.

There are some people who are religious and who seem to get along pretty well until their children get mixed up in trouble with some one. Just as sure as that happens they are in the trouble, too. They think that their children could not be to blame. They take the children's part, and trouble is the result. And when they have gotten out of the trouble, if they do get out, they have dishonored both themselves and their religion. There are others who can never let trouble alone if their friends or neighbors are in it. They will mix in. They feel that they must defend their friends, and they are often so partial in their feelings toward them that they can not believe them to be in the wrong. They become all heated in the thing, and before they know it they have a big case of spiritual trouble on hand in addition to the other trouble.

When people get into trouble, they like to tell others about it. If you have sympathetic ears for trouble, you can hear plenty of it. When you hear such things, it is very easy to pass them on to some one else. Never let yourself he a news-carrier for trouble. You will have trouble of your own if you do. The only business that a Christian has in relation to such troubles is as a peace-maker, and even then he must be very cautious and wise, or he will become involved.

Few people want to take God's way out of trouble. They will do anything to have their own way out. We are told to leave off strife before it is meddled with. That is the only safe way. While you are out, keep out; and the only way to keep out is to mind your own business. Try Uncle John's rule. It will work very well. It is a splendid preventive of trouble. Would you be happy? Would you have the confidence of your neighbors and associates? Would you be free from worldly entanglements? Would you have a contented heart and a cheerful mind? Would you be worthy of the esteem of the people? Would you be different from worldly people? Would you be a sunshine-bearer for your neighborhood? There is just one way to do it. You must do as "happy John" did—smile, praise the Lord, and mind your own business.



TALK SEVENTEEN. WHAT THE REDBIRD TOLD ME

It was a cold winter morning. Snow covered the ground. The frost on the trees sparkled in the bright sunlight like ten thousand diamonds. But the brightness outside seemed to find no reflection in me. I had been confined to my bed for more than six months. I was gloomy and despondent. It seemed as though all the light and joy had gone out of my life and that only pain and suffering and sorrow were left to me. I had no desire to live. Again and again I prayed that I might die. I should have welcomed any form of death, even the most horrible. I had grown morbid, and almost despaired. I had been prayed for again and again, but the healing touch came not. Life seemed to hold for me no ray of hope, no gleam of sunshine.

As I lay brooding in my melancholy state, a red grosbeak, with his bright red plumage, alighted on a tree a few feet from my window. His eyes sparkled as he gazed at me with interest. He turned his head now this way and now that, apparently studying me intently, and then he gave a cheery call and hopped as near to me as he could get and repeated his cries over and over. Somehow his cries took the form of words in my mind. This is what he said to me: "You, you, you, cheer up, cheer up, cheer up." He hopped about from limb to limb, wiping his beak, picking at pieces of bark, but ever and anon hopping back to look at me and cry again. "Cheer up, cheer up, cheer up." This he did for a long time, then he flew away, only to return soon and to peer at me again, crying his merry "You, you, you, cheer up, cheer up, cheer up." For more than two hours he continued to repeat this and then went away, and far in the distance I heard the last echoes of his notes still saying, "Cheer up, cheer up."

It seemed as though God had sent the bird to bring a message to my soul; and as I thought of the cold and the snow and the winter winds, of the bird's uncertain supply of food, of his many enemies, and considered that, in spite of all this, he could be so cheerful and gay, it made me feel ashamed that I should be so melancholy and despondent. His message, enforced by his example, sank into my heart. I began to think over the favorable side of my situation. I began to consider how many things the Lord had bestowed upon me in the past—his mercy, his kindness, and his blessings. My heart took courage, hope began to lift herself up from the dust I reflected over the way I had yielded to discouragement. I saw that if I was ever to rise above it I must set myself resolutely to the task of looking upon the bright side and of overcoming the gloom and heaviness. The message of the bird made me ashamed to submit longer to my feelings. I resolved then and there that I would be different. And from that day I began to act and think and speak more cheerfully. Many times I had to act contrary to the way I felt, but I found that this was having an influence upon my feelings, and the more I practised being cheerful the more cheerful I became. Many times I have been sorely pressed down in spirit, but I have found that I can act cheerfully and talk cheerfully even in the midst of depression, and that this is not hypocrisy, but the true way in which to meet such things and conquer them.

Cheerfulness is largely a matter of habit. We must do one of two things—either yield to our feelings and let them be our master or compel our feelings to yield to us that we may be their master. It is a case of conquering or being conquered. So many persons are at the mercy of their emotions. If they do not feel well in body, or their mind is troubled, or their spiritual sky is clouded, they yield themselves to gloomy thoughts and look upon the dark side of the picture. Their thoughts and feelings are reflected in their face, and actions and words. This, in turn, reacts upon them, and they then feel worse in body and mind. Every one around them knows how they feel. This is putting a premium on your bad feelings. It is encouraging them. And it is a very bad habit. You can be cheerful if you will. Do not wear your troubles on your face. Do not let them put a note of sadness in your voice. Cease your sighing: you are only adding to your burdens. Take the birds advice and cheer up. You can if you will. You can hide your burdens instead of advertising them. To hide them will help you to forget them. You have a place to put your burdens—"Casting all your care upon Him."

I still suffer; I still have periods of mental depression; but I have learned to be cheerful and not let these things be on exhibition. I find it now the easier, and by far the better, way. Cheerfulness is a habit; get the habit. It depends upon you, not upon your circumstances. You can rule your circumstances instead of letting them rule you. Take hold of your bad feelings with a will and conquer them with cheerfulness. The task may not be easy at first, but keep at it and you will win. Do not despair if you lose a few battles. You may have cultivated gloom for so long a time that it has become the fixed state of your mind. Overcome the habit. God will help you. When your feelings become gloomy, say, "I will not be so," and force your mind into other channels. It will want to go back to its former habit, but as often as you catch yourself thinking along gloomy lines turn your thoughts back to the sunshine. Put good cheer into your voice and a smile on your face, no matter how you feel. It will prove a tonic for soul, mind, and body. Listen to the redbird. Hear his merry "Cheer up, cheer up," and act upon his advice. You will find it worth while.



TALK EIGHTEEN. WHAT OLD BILL COULD NOT DO

Old Bill M— was a drunkard. Everybody knew it. People expected to see him stagger as he walked; that was the common thing. As a young man he had been the leader among his chums, and people thought he would make his mark in the world. He had excelled most of his companions, but alas! it was not in the things that make men noble and great. As people said, "The drink was getting him." He was a familiar figure in each of the three saloons in A—. He was popular, for he was good-natured and jolly. He was still the leader of a company, who called themselves the "bunch." Each night they made the rounds of the saloons, then at a late hour staggered homeward.

Yes, Old Bill was a drunkard. He had tried many times to quit. His friends had warned him and advised him to quit. His wife had begged him a hundred times, with tears running down her face. He had promised again and again, had tried, over and over, to master the habit, but it held him fast. One night when he went home, drunk as usual, he found his wife seriously ill. Three days he watched by her bedside, and then the end came. In her dying hour she laid her hand on his and asked him once more for her sake, and his own, to quit drinking. Bill promised with hot tears falling like rain, and he meant it with all his heart.

Two days later he followed her body to the church, and as he took his last look at that still form, he vowed with all his strength of will never to touch drink again. He walked silently back to his home, but it was not home any more. He was heart-broken. What would he do? How could he bear it? Presently two of his comrades came out to sympathize with him. After talking a while, one pulled a bottle from his pocket, saying, "Here, Bill, take a bit to brace you up." "No, Jack," he answered, "I'm going to quit the stuff; I promised her I would." "That's all right," said Jack, "but you need a little now for your nerves." He lifted the bottle to his own lips, then held it uncorked in his hand. The odor entered Bill's nostrils, the old appetite asserted itself, and before he knew it he had seized the bottle. A minute later it was empty! When Bill next came to realize what was happening, it was a week later. He had been drunk all the time; he did not even know what day it was; but when he realized what had happened, he was stricken with remorse. He knew now, as never before, that drink was his master.

Two years passed. His few belongings had been sold to pay the funeral expenses; the remainder had gone for drink. Another family lived in the home now. Mr. Wilson, a kind neighbor, had given him a home, and he worked for him when he was sober enough. One evening as he was making his way to the saloon as usual, he heard singing. "That's strange," he muttered; "wonder what's going on?" He turned and walked toward the singing and soon found a large tent filled with people. "Queer-looking show," he thought as he approached the entrance. A pleasant-faced young man stepped up to him and said, "Come in, Bill, and I will get you a good seat." He mechanically followed the usher in. The singing was good, and he enjoyed it. Presently a man arose and, with tears running down his face, related that he had been a drunkard, and that after years of trying to overcome the habit, he had finally turned to God for help, and that he was now a free and happy man. Bill understood the struggle part, but not the rest. He knew what it meant to fail, and as he pondered he thought of his wife. Did she know how he had broken his promise? Did she weep over him now as she used to?

Some one entered the pulpit and talked for a long time, but Bill did not hear anything he said. Bill was thinking, thinking. There was a man who had "beat the drink," and he said the Lord had helped him. Bill wondered if the Lord would help him. When the preacher finished, the first man rose again; Bill straightened up and looked keenly. "Yes," he thought, "he has been a drinker all right, and a hard one; his face shows it." The speaker was inviting men to Christ for the help they needed.

Old Bill never quite knew how it happened, but he suddenly found himself up in front holding the stranger's hand and telling him that he wanted help to quit drink. Side by side they knelt while the saved man earnestly poured out his heart to God for the drunkard. Old Bill did not know how to pray, he had never tried in his life, but he wanted help; all his soul longed for it. He listened to the other man praying. He was asking for just what Bill needed; his heart joined in. Yes, he wanted to quit drinking; he wanted to be a good man, but he had to have help. The other man prayed as though God were right close by, and Bill felt that He must be, so he said: "Yes, God, I'll quit it if you'll help me. I'll be a man if you'll help me, but I can't do it by myself!" That was all, but he meant it, and he felt that God would help him. A strange, quiet peace came into his heart, and he really felt happy. He went home sober that night.

Some of the "bunch" outside the tent had seen Bill go forward, and soon the news was in all the saloons. "He'll be back by Saturday night," they said. But he did not come back. Instead he was in the meeting telling the people what wonderful things God had done for him. He did not want strong drink any more at all, he declared. The "bunch" did not believe this. They laughed and made many prophecies; they waited week by week, but Old Bill came to the saloon no more. Two years passed; Bill lived a joyful Christian life and never tired of telling what the Lord had done for him. He went out to a country schoolhouse, where he organized a Sunday-school and labored zealously and successfully.

There were many temptations. At first the "bunch" laughed and made him the butt of many rude jests, then they laid plans to trap him. One day one of them stuck an open whisky-bottle under his nose, saying, "Smell it, Bill; ain't it a fine odor?" Bill stepped back, all smiles, and said quietly, "Well, Tom, drink was my master a long time, but I have a better Master now." He went on his way unobstrusively but steadily, and finally won the respect and confidence of all.

At last the end came; Old Bill was dead. There was a peaceful smile upon his face, for his sun had gone down in splendor. The "bunch" followed him to the grave. They could not quite understand even yet what had happened to him. It was a wonderful change, and his life had won their respect, and they followed him silently to his last resting-place. After the burial they stood talking it over in a little group by themselves, "I thought the drink had him sure," said one; "I don't see how he beat it." "It was not Bill who did it," said a quiet voice behind them; "it was Jesus Christ." They turned and saw the pastor walking away. "Guess the parson must have it right," said one of them. "It was a pretty good job, too."



TALK NINETEEN. DIVINE AND WORLDLY CONFORMITY

The Scriptures say, "Be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Rom. 12: 2). They also say that we should be "conformed to the image of his Son" (Rom. 8: 29). We have here two sorts of conformity, one of which is condemned and the other approved. Much is said by some classes of religious professors about worldly conformity, while little is said about divine conformity. It is my purpose herein to point out the essential nature of these two kinds of conformity.

By worldly conformity most religious teachers mean outward likeness of dress, manner, customs, etc. This, however, is not its true significance. Conformity to Christ does not mean dressing as he dressed, speaking the language that he spoke, eating the same kind of food that he ate, or observing any of those externals that went to make up his life.

In the true meaning of the word, conformity goes deeper than externals. Two things may look very much alike and yet be very different in their natures. Pyrites of iron looks so much like gold that it has deceived many a person into thinking that he had found riches. For this reason it is called "fool's gold." Likewise things may outwardly seem very different, while in reality they are very much the same. A sparkling diamond seems very different from a lump of coal, but the chief difference is only in the arrangement of their particles. Both are composed chiefly of carbon, so in nature they conform closely to each other.

Conformity is a thing of nature, not of external appearance. We are "by nature the children of wrath." Our likeness to the world consists in a likeness of character, and for that reason we are told that we must be transformed. This transformation is a change of character; it has to do, first of all, with internals, not with externals.

Conformity to the world in most externals is not only advisable but necessary. We wear clothing as the world does; we live in houses built like those around us; we speak the same language as sinners; we have the same habits of thought and speech in general that they have; we use the same implements and tools; we raise the same crops; we employ the same methods of work and business; in fact, we conform to the world in all these things. We can not avoid doing this without sacrificing what is vital and proper in our lives. Conformity to the world in these externals becomes evil only when such conformity has its origin in an evil principle in the heart or when it produces an evil effect.

When Christ prayed for his disciples, he said, "Keep them from the evil." Paul said, "As using and not abusing." It is that which is evil, or the evil use that is made of externals, that is obnoxious to God. A proper use of all things is permissible, and if our hearts are conformed to God, we naturally desire and seek only the proper use of things. But the natural heart is wicked; it is set on pleasing itself; it is full of vanity and pride. So long as this condition exists, the heart is not conformed to God. There must be a transformation, and this is not one which starts from the outside and works inward, for such at best could be only a reformation. The real transformation is a thing that begins on the inside and works a vital change in the spiritual condition and character. When this internal change is wrought, it gives a new quality and direction to the whole range of thought and activity. It manifests itself in new desires and aspirations, in new habits and customs, in newness of speech and looks and behavior. When we are transformed so that we become new creatures in Christ Jesus, we begin to act like new creatures. But our bodies are not transformed: we still have bodies of flesh, which retain their natural desires and appetites, and these we may gratify in a lawful way without sin.

When the heart is transformed and purified from its vanity and pride, these qualities will not be manifested in external things. But so long as pride and vanity remain in the heart, preaching to people and requiring them to cease wearing worldly adornment is like trying to kill a tree by pulling off some of its leaves—the people may layoff such things under pressure, but they are no better than before. People must be taught the Bible standard of externals, but the chief thing is to get their hearts right. When the heart is conformed to the image of Christ, the words of the old song are true of it:

"There's no thirsting for life's pleasure, Nor adorning rich and gay; For I've found a richer treasure, One that fadeth not away."

Neither force nor persuasion is required to get persons with such an experience to act properly regarding external things.

In carrying out their idea of non-conformity to the world, some bodies of people have adopted a special garb or a special form of speech to distinguish them from others. This, however, is not a mark of real non-conformity, but a mark of sectarianism. The true and only difference needful between ourselves and the world in externals is that we are to reject those things that are evil or that produce evil. All things else are lawful to us, though these lawful things must also be judged by the law of expediency.

Conformity to Christ means conformity in character. It means purity of desire, so that our hearts reach out for only those things that are pure, and we are moved by pure motives and actuated by holy purposes. It means that we have a conscience toward God in whatever we do. It means to put his will before everything else. It means that the dominating purpose of our life will be to please him in every detail, and not ourselves. A heart like this is not attracted by the vain and sinful things of the world; on the contrary, it is repelled by them.

When the person is adorned with gold, jewels, costly or gaudy array, or immodest clothing, we must needs look for the root in the heart. There is where the trouble lies. There is the seat of the desire. It is useless to take off the externals while the internal corruption is permitted to continue. God hates all vanity and pride. There is no such element in his character. If we are conformed to him, there is no such element in our character; and if our character is purged from these things, we have no desire for their external manifestations. God loves meekness and modesty, and these are the opposites of display. If we are meek and modest in character, our dress and deportment will manifest these qualities. If we do not manifest them, it is because we do not possess them.

It may not be out of place here to call attention to the Bible principles relating to the subject of dress and personal adornment. In beginning this phase of the subject we should note that the gospel is not a set of rules, but a revelation of moral principles. It is intended for all people in all countries, climates, and ages. We should not, therefore, expect that these principles as they relate to dress would be revealed in other than the most general terms, or applied to the details of the subject. There is just one principle involved; we may sum up the whole subject under that one heading. The Bible standard of dress consists of just three words, but these three words cover the whole scope of life. They are, "in modest apparel" (1 Tim. 2: 9). This is the standard, and this is the whole standard. We are given a hint regarding how to apply this standard, but our own good judgment is sufficient to draw the line in the right place, provided our hearts are conformed to the divine image. There is no excuse for fanaticism any more than there is for pride. Sound judgment and good sense will help us avoid both extremes.

A definition of modesty is, "Restrained within due limits of propriety; free from indecency or lewdness; not excessive or extreme; moderate." A Christian's apparel should be modest in cut, that is, in the way it is made; it should cover the body as a modest person would cover it, not displaying those parts that the prevailing standards of modesty require to be covered.(1) Judged by this standard, very many religious professors come far short, their clothing being less than decency really requires. Such a thing, of course, does not have its origin in a pure heart. The woman who displays herself to attract attention is anything but modest.

Clothing should be made to conform to modesty in all other respects also. Useless things added to one's apparel for the purpose of display and show do not conform to modesty. "Loud" and flashy colors are not modest. The Bible does not forbid us to wear any particular shade, but there are shades and combinations that are showy and gaudy, and by their extremeness violate modesty, for modesty is the avoidance of extreme. Whatever we wear, it should be modest in color just as well as in other particulars.

Christian apparel should be modest in texture; that is, it should not be so thin that it displays the body or the underwear. No man thinks a woman modest who wears goods so thin as to display her under-garments, or hosiery so thin as to display her limbs. Such things are very unbecoming to saints, and of course not less so to other people. Sisters, dress so that a modest man will not feel embarrassed in your presence.

Apparel should be modest as to cost. It should not be what the Scriptures term "costly array." It is well to buy good material, and for such we must pay a good price, but this is not what the Bible means by "costly array." It means not to be extravagant. We should not waste money, but make the best possible use of it.

Some have thought it wrong to try to make our clothes becoming. This is not the case. The Bible says "that women adorn themselves in modest apparel"; that is, their apparel should be such as adorns or becomes them, so long as it is modest clothing. It should be adapted in cut, color, etc., to harmonize with the complexion, size, and height of the person. We owe it to ourselves to make a good appearance. To make ourselves outlandish in any way is neither wise nor right. It is violating modesty, and this is not consistent. It is only when we make a proper appearance that we can have a proper influence, and so be effective for God.

God delights in modesty in dress, in words, in actions—in all things. Pride and show are an abomination to him, and if we conform to him in our inner life and character, outward conformity will naturally follow; but if inward desire runs out after that which is immodest and gaudy, if the heart desires to display upon the person gold and jewels and finery, it is because it does not conform to the image of God's Son, but to the world.



TALK TWENTY. BAPTIZED WITH FIRE

John the Baptist said, when speaking of the work of the coming Messiah, "He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with fire." The symbolic tongues of fire which sat on the believers on the day of Pentecost represented a very real something which from henceforth would be manifested in their lives. It is not my purpose here to enter into an explanation of the Baptist's words. I wish to speak only of the fervency which fire represents as it should characterize our lives. The life that has in it no fervency has little or nothing of God. The soul that is vigorous in God is a soul full of power. We need to be "on fire" for God, and there are three ways in which this fervency should manifest itself.

A Burning Love.

We need a fervent love. It is the foundation, as it were, of all Christian fervency. If our love lacks fervency, it lacks the vital element that makes it effective. If our love for God is kindled into a burning passion, it will put him before all else. His will and desire will be the delight of our hearts. His service will be no task, to sacrifice for him will be easy, and to obey him will be our meat. It will make our consciences tender toward him. What he loves we shall love, and whom he loves we shall love. If our love is fervent, we shall love truth, and we shall love it as it is worthy to be loved—above our own opinions or ideas and more than the teachings of men. We will not sacrifice it or deny it for ease or comfort or to please others. We shall strive to make our lives conform to it. We shall labor with all our strength to spread it over the world. If we love the truth, we shall be missionaries whether we are at home or abroad. Love begets labor.

A fervent love of the brethren glows in the heart that is full of God. It will burn up criticism and backbiting. It will burn up division and strife. It will destroy jealousy and envy. It will make peace in the home, in the church, and in the individual heart. A thousand troubles come when love grows cold: the eyes see no more as they once saw, the ears hear no more as before, the tongue talks differently, and the heart feels differently, the glow dies out of the eyes, the tenderness leaves the touch, sympathy wanes in the heart, and there is ashes for beauty and heaviness instead of praise. When the first love is left, when the divine fire is quenched, out of the life has gone its richness, its transfiguring beauty; and what is left?

O brother, sister, keep the red glow of fervency in your love. If you have lost it, rest not till it is rekindled. Love makes us strong to do and to bear. John Knox said to God, "Give me Scotland or I die." That was love that shook a kingdom. Paul counted not his life dear to him. That was love that overthrew the idols of the heathen. God "so loved the world," and a new era dawned, bringing light and salvation. If we have such love, it will work out in effectual action. A church fervent in love is a church reaching out and winning others. It is a church with an all-absorbing passion for the lost. Let us ask ourselves today, "Have I a fervent love? or am I cold and has my love lost its strength?"

A Burning Zeal.

A man or a church without zeal is of necessity ineffective. What is the temperature of your zeal? Does it let you go for months without speaking to a soul about his salvation? Does it permit you to rest easy while others are toiling, praying, and sacrificing? About how much time on an average do you spend each day praying for souls, or for the progress of the kingdom of God in the earth? About how often do you pray definitely for some of your neighbors, your friends, or business associates? About how long has it been since you invited some one to Christ? When did you pray with some one for his spiritual needs? When did you speak encouraging words? When did you give some one a tract or paper? When did you write a letter filled with spiritual advice or help? How much sacrifice are you making for the cause? How much time, labor, or money have you expended for the kingdom in the past year? Is your zeal dead, or is it in fervent activity? How much does the salvation of the world mean to you?

Behold the zeal of the advocates of some of the false movements of these days! See how they pour out their money like water. See how they never can be satisfied unless they are laboring for their movement. Are we as zealous as they? If not, why not? If we have the truth and know that we have it, should not that be enough to fire our zeal till it would not let us rest while there are others in darkness? Almost in sight of you, or perhaps within a stone's throw, are people who do not know the truth. If you do no more than you have done the past year, may they not live and die there and never know it?

Zeal does not ask for excuses. Zeal is never satisfied till it has gone full length in labor. When one man was asked what was the secret of the marvelous success of the early church in its fight against heathenism, he replied with just one word, "Zeal." The same sort of zeal will produce results today. Zeal must, of course, be enlightened. It can succeed only when guided by wisdom. Blind zeal is like a blind horse: it is likely to run in any direction regardless of results. So be wise when you are zealous. If you are truly wise with that wisdom "which cometh down from above," you will also be zealous.

A Fervent Hatred.

A good Christian is a good hater. "Ye that love the Lord hate evil." This is an age of toleration. Almost any false doctrine may be preached, while many of the religious teachers of so-called orthodoxy plod on their way indifferently. Error thrives, a multitude of souls are deceived, but many seem but little concerned. Evil raises its head everywhere and sneers at the Christian people. Dens of vice, gambling-houses, lewd picture-shows, and a hundred other forms of evil are tolerated and even looked upon as "necessary evils" by religious professors. He who really loves God just as truly hates all evil. He so hates it in himself that he will give it no place in his heart or life. He hates it in others. He sees no pleasant thing in it. To him it is foul, vile, and revolting. It is his enemy, and he is its bitter foe. The measure of his love for good is the measure of his hatred for evil. We can not love the good more than we hate the evil. The two exactly balance in our lives.

A burning love, a burning zeal, and a burning hatred will make your life as a beacon-light to the world; and if you would be a true example of what God means men to be, you must have this fervency in your life. It alone can keep you from coldness. It alone can make you a prosperous, victorious Christian.



TALK TWENTY-ONE. WHAT TO DO WITH THE DEVIL

Some people say there is no devil, but I am convinced that he is very real. In fact, I have had some personal experiences with him that leave no room for doubt. He is right here in this world. Like a lion he "goeth about seeking whom he may devour." What to do with him is the biggest problem that faces some Christians. They spend so much time thinking about the devil, fearing him, and trying to combat him, that they have little time for God. Their testimony is a testimony of the devil's doings and their conflict with him. Their religion is a negative, not a positive, thing. It consists in not doing and not being, not thinking and not feeling or in trying not to. They are working on the problem from the wrong end. Our problem is to do and be, to live a positive life. Life is for accomplishment and for character-building. The overcoming of the obstacles that we meet is only incidental; it is not the main purpose of our lives. A great many persons think that they could accomplish great things and be wonderful Christians if it were not for the devil. What to do with him is their problem. I shall tell you what to do.

First, do not be afraid of him. Have you not read these words, "Greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world"? If you will just believe that, you will have no cause to fear the devil. Do you not know that God is in you? and if he is in you, is he not more than a match for your adversary? "If God be for us, who can be against us?" Satan may oppose us, but he can not prevail against us. His opposition and his schemes will be brought to naught. Just add a little boldness to faith, and you will overcome him. Do not be frightened at his roaring. He can not touch you unless God permits, and if God permits him, it will only be to give you the greater victory in the end. Are you God's child? Will he permit anything that will do you permanent ill? Do not fear the devil; trust God. Give your attention and strength to pleasing him. If you will keep busy doing this, you will not have so much trouble with Satan. God does not want you to be shivering with fear. He wants you to "be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might."

Satan is like a lion; but when a lion roared against Samson, that man slew the beast with his naked hands because the Spirit of the Lord was upon him. If, instead of fearing, you will trust in the Lord to put his Spirit upon you when there is need of it, you may overcome Satan as easily as Samson did the lion. Daniel was thrown into the lions' den, but they did not eat him. God put a muzzle on them, not a literal muzzle, but something still more effectual, and they could not touch Daniel.

Being afraid of the devil is much like being afraid of the darkness. When I was a boy, I was bold enough to go where I wanted to in the darkness; but when I started for the house again, I could imagine that dogs and bears and all sorts of frightful things might be anywhere about, so I would run at full speed. There might have been something, but if so, I never really knew it; but I would get panic-stricken just the same. If you become frightened this way in spiritual things, you may look upon it as only a childish habit. You will never be a "really and truly" grown-up man or woman for God until you get over your foolish fear of the devil. We are told to "resist him stedfast in the faith." It is faith that counts. If you have a gun, a crow will not fly near you. If you have faith, the devil will be more afraid of you than you are of him. Try using this weapon on him. You will find it very effectual.

Second, do not run from him. A man from the East was once riding over a Western prairie with a party of friends, when he saw an Indian walking along. While he was looking at the Indian, an angry bull, which had been bellowing and pawing up the ground, suddenly charged the Indian. Instead of his running, as the Easterner expected him to do, he simply turned about, folded his arms, stood stock-still, and faced the angry animal. It came charging down till it was almost upon him, then suddenly stopped, looked at him, and ran around him. The Indian stood motionless. The animal bellowed and pawed and ran round and round him. He did not move, and the animal did not touch him, but presently went off and left him alone, after which the Indian went on his way as though nothing had happened. There is a good lesson in that for us. There is no use to run from the devil, for he can run faster than we can. Our victory is often won by our standing still to see the salvation of God.

Third, watch. That is what our Lord commanded, but he did not say, "Watch the devil." The thing that we need to watch most is where our own feet are going. If we allow ourselves to be occupied in watching Satan, we may get out of the path and not know it. The Bible also says, "looking unto Jesus," not, "looking unto Satan." It is from God that our help comes. When we look at Satan, he appears great and terrible. When we look to God, We see his greatness and realize how much greater he is than Satan, and our courage rises, our strength is increased, our fears vanish, and we become confident. Look to God and where your own feet are going, and let God manage the devil.

Fourth, ignore him. There is nothing Satan hates so much as to be ignored. For us to calmly go upon our way unafraid and trustful, not dismayed by his roaring, is not at all to his liking. If we will keep our hearts and minds occupied with good things and pay no attention to his threats, we shall find that he will go off and leave us. He may soon return, but if you meet him in the same way, he will not linger around you as he will if he can hold your attention upon himself.

You have better use for your time than to let the enemy occupy it. Use it in active service for God. Jesus said he would give us "rest unto our souls." Do you have that rest? God means for you to have it, but you can not have it if you keep your attention on Satan all the time. He will tantalize you if you will let him. While you are looking unto Jesus, you will not see the faces that Satan makes at you, and so will not be troubled. If you will listen to God, you will not have time to listen to Satan. If he is constantly troubling you, it is because you are giving him opportunity. He is a conquered foe. The victory is yours, if you will have it so.



TALK TWENTY-TWO. WAITING ON THE LORD

Some people are always in a hurry about things. If they want to do something or to have something, they can not wait, they must do it or have it at once. When they are compelled to wait, the time seems very long and their impatience grows with every delay. They can not quietly and patiently wait for anything.

Such persons bring this same characteristic into their spiritual lives. When they pray, they want an immediate answer—they want God to hurry up. If the answer is delayed, they get all worked up about it. Sometimes they murmur against the Lord and feel very bad, like spoiled children. Sometimes they pray a few times for what they desire, and if the answer does not come they conclude that God does not mean to answer them; so they give up seeking for it and sometimes question God's faithfulness. If they see something that needs doing or something that is not going to please them, it must be remedied immediately; if it is not, they are much displeased. They can not wait for a propitious time or till things have worked out so that they can be properly handled. Their motto seems to be, "Do it now." That is all very well for some things, but quite frequently it is necessary to patiently wait on the Lord and upon others. We can not hurry the Lord; all time is his. He works according to his own purposes and will, according to his own wisdom and plans. We can not choose for him; we must be willing for him to choose for us. It must be his to say both as to "when" and "how." Ours is to wait and trust, his to choose and do.

Many years ago I read a story. Later, when I was lying on my bed of affliction and praying earnestly for God to restore my health, he brought to my mind this story and applied its lesson to my soul. It was such a help to me that I will give it to you also. I had been much troubled because I was not healed. I would pray very earnestly, with a longing that seemed to draw out all my soul. Others would pray also, but there was no answer from God. Disappointment and discouragement seemed to shut me in with walls of darkness. A feeling of helplessness and almost of utter hopelessness came over me. I was in this condition when God brought to my memory this long-forgotten story and applied it to my heart with a peculiar emphasis that made it a direct message from him to my soul.

This is the story: The king of a certain country was growing old, and he had no son to succeed him. He announced to his people that he would choose an heir to the throne from among the young men of the country by a competitive test which would give all an equal chance. On the day appointed a great number of young men presented themselves. A certain test was made, and some failed while others passed. Then other tests came, and each time some were rejected till at last only three were left.

They were put through test after test, but all seemed equally able to meet them, so the king announced through his heralds that on the next day the matter would be decided by a foot-race. The course was marked off, the judges were at their places, and all was ready. Just at this time a man came up to each of the contestants and said secretly to him, "The king is taking special note of you. Do not run when the signal is given until the king gives you a special signal." The three took their places eager for the race. The signal was given, one bounded forward quickly, then hesitated and stopped; then another sprang forward after him, upon which the first started forward again and they ran for the goal with all speed. The third stood looking anxiously at the king and at the two runners, murmuring to himself, "I can make it yet, I can make it yet." The king gazed at the runners and gave no heed to the one still standing. The waiting man thought himself forgotten and soon realized that it would be impossible for him to win the race. He felt that all was lost for him.

The two runners ran on at top speed, reaching the goal together. They were brought back, and all three stood before the king. To the first he said, "Were you not told not to run until I gave you the signal? Why then did you run?"

"I forgot," said the man.

Of the second he asked the same question. His reply was, "I thought it would be but a moment till you would give the signal, and seeing the other running I ran also."

To the third he said, "And why did not you run?"

"Because you did not give me the signal, sir," he answered.

"My son," said the king, "I knew that you could run, but I did not know that you could wait."

So the young man found that the test was not a test of doing but of waiting. And thus the Lord said to me that day, "I knew that you could run, I knew that you would work with all your strength; but can you wait on me?" These words have been repeated over and over in my heart during the long years. It was a hard lesson to learn, and many times I have grown weary, many times I have longed for the end of the waiting; but that lesson has helped me to bear and to wait and to be patient in the waiting. Sometimes it has seemed that the answer would never come. Sometimes it has seemed that the Lord had forgotten. Many times I have had to say to my heart, "Be patient and wait." This is the hardest lesson that many of us ever have to learn, but learn it we must if God's will and his plan are to be fulfilled in our lives.

There are some things for which we do not need to wait, but for which we need to press our petitions with earnestness and diligence and with an out-reaching grasp of faith for a "now" answer—for example, the supplying of a soul-need, such as forgiveness or sanctification, or physical or other help where the need is urgent. Sometimes people think that it is not the Lord's time to save or sanctify them or to give them something else that is needed at once, when the trouble is they do not get in earnest enough or do not exercise faith as they might. God's time for necessary things, and especially for salvation work, is now; and if we do not receive when we seek, we may look for the fault in ourselves or in our manner of seeking. Waiting on the Lord is not needful in this class of things and it will only hinder receiving. There are, however, many other things for which we may not know God's time and in the case of which growing impatient and trying to force matters will grieve God and hinder us. Unfulfilled desire patiently and submissively met is often a powerful factor in character-building.

Have you prayed for things, yearned for them, reached out after them, and yet your prayer is not yet answered? Have you been tempted to believe that it was of no use to seek for them? If you are not seeking selfishly, or if God has not denied you, do not lose faith. God has said, "Ask, and ye shall receive"; and again he says, "They shall not be ashamed that wait for me" (Isa. 49: 23). God is faithful. He knows what is best. As a loving Father he watches over you. His ear is open to your cry. We are told to "rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him." Do not grow impatient, do not become wrought up, but while you must wait on the Lord, rest in him. Jeremiah tells us how to wait for God to deliver—"It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord" (Lam. 3: 26). Think of that expression, "hope and quietly wait." Do not these words mean confidence and soul-rest? Do they not mean assurance and trust? They do not mean, however, that we should be careless. They imply activity of faith and desire, but they shut out fear and unbelief. The Psalmist says, "Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart" (Psa. 27: 14). Keep up your courage while you wait, do not grow despondent, be strong in faith; God will not fail.

Again, we are exhorted to "wait on the Lord, and keep his way" (Psa. 37: 34). If wrongs are not righted, if persecutions continue, if, like Paul, we have a "thorn in the flesh" and our desires are not granted, let us do what this text tells us—let us "keep His way." Let us serve the Lord just as truly as though conditions were ideal and all our desires satisfied. Let us show our fidelity to God, by being true whether circumstances are favorable or unfavorable. God promised Abraham the land of Canaan, but he went up and down in it for many years as a stranger. His posterity went into Egypt and there, under the lash of the taskmaster, they waited, waited, waited. Did not they have God's promise? Had he not said that that goodly land should be theirs? Why did he wait so long? Was this the way that he fulfilled his promise? Had he forgotten them? Did their cries to him fall on deaf ears? Their waiting was not easy. It was long and oh, how wearisome! Why did God wait so long, was there any adequate reason? Yes, when God waits there is always a good reason for the waiting. His acts are not arbitrary; he does not act according to caprice; he acts wisely and when it is best. He tells us why he delayed in this case—it was because the sins of the Canaanites had not yet come to the full. When they reached that point, the Lord fulfilled his promise and led the children of Israel out of their bondage into that goodly land.

Have you learned this lesson of waiting upon the Lord? Can you commit your ways to him and feel that if desire is still unsatisfied, if obstacles are not yet removed, if trials yet bear upon you, the Father-love is not growing cold, nor his hearing dull, nor has he forgotten? In the proper time and way the answer will be sure, and because of the delay the answer will be fuller and will enrich you more than if it had come when first you asked. Wait patiently on the Lord, trust also in him, be not weary in well-doing, and out of your waiting will come strength, and out of your sorrow will come rejoicing, and out of the bitterness will come sweetness, and at the end of the way you will find a crown and life everlasting.



TALK TWENTY-THREE. THREE NECESSARY "RATIONS"

The soul, like the body, must have something to nourish and strengthen it, to give it vigor and vitality. An army will have neither the strength nor the courage to fight unless it has its rations. And if I may be allowed a play on words, I may say that there are three rations which are very needful to every Christian. Without these he must be weak and faltering and of little service, but with them he may be a pillar of strength in the temple of God.

The first of these "rations" is aspiration, or ardent desire. Strong desire is one of the greatest incentives of life. To be contented as we are is one of the most fatal hindrances to progress and activity. There is nothing to stir us to action when desire is satisfied. The trouble with a great multitude of people is that they are satisfied when conditions do not warrant it. If we are to make progress in the Christian life or accomplish anything for God, we must have strong aspirations. These are as a spur to our energies. Aspiration is the cure for being "at ease in Zion." Aspirations are good or bad according to the motive that prompts them. Some are essentially selfish, and such are necessarily evil. If we desire to be or do for selfish advantage, for glory and praise; if we aspire to be leaders, as so many religious people do, only that they may have authority or honor—our aspirations are evil. But each one of us owes it to himself and to God to desire strongly to be and to do his best for God.