When he reached the garden again, the gentle Glaube met him, and welcomed him back again to their peaceful home. But he hung down his head with shame and with sorrow; and as he looked up into the face of the Lord of the garden, he saw in it such kindness and love, that his tears rolled down his cheeks to think how he had broken His command, and wandered into the wilderness of His enemies. Then he tried to speak for his brother, for his heart was sore and heavy with thinking of him; but the Lord of the castle answered not. Many, many days did Glaube and Zart pray for him; but they heard nothing of him: whether he died in the enemies' dungeon; or whether, as they still dared to hope, he might even yet one day find his way back to the garden of peace; or whether, as they sometimes trembled to think, he had grown up amongst the enemies of their Lord, and become one of them,—they knew not, and they dared not to ask. But they never thought of him without trembling and tears, and Zart more even than Glaube: for he had crossed that terrible border; he had been seized by the fierce enemy; he had lain alone in the wide scorching desert; and had only been brought back again from death by the great love of the mighty and merciful Lord of that most happy garden.

* * * * *

Father. Who are meant by these children born in the wretched hovel?

Child. All the children of fallen parents.

F. Who are such?

C. All who are born. For we were "by nature born in sin, and the children of wrath."

F. Who is the kind Lord of the castle who takes pity on them?

C. Jesus Christ our Lord.

F. What is meant by His taking them to His castle?

C. His receiving us when children into His Church.

F. When was this done?

C. At our baptism. For "being by nature children of wrath, we were hereby made the children of grace."

F. What is meant by the clean raiment and the new name He gave them?

C. The "forgiveness of all our sins" (see Collect in Confirmation-Service), and the giving us our Christian name.

F. Why is it called your Christian name?

C. To mark its difference from our natural, or parents' name.

F. Why was it given you at that time?

C. Because then I was taken into God's family, and "made a member of Christ, child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven."

F. What was the food with which they were fed?

C. All the means of grace of the Church of Christ.

F. What was the desert, and who those who dwelt in it who were enemies to the Lord?

C. The ways of sin, and the devil and his angels.

F. What were the bright flowers and the bird?

C. The baits and temptations of sin.

F. Why did Kuhn, or "bold," cross the border more easily the second time?

C. Because one sin makes another easier.

F. Why did Zart, or "tender," follow him?

C. Because bold sinners lead weaker sinners after them.

F. What were the dry sands into which Kuhn and Zart were carried?

C. The evil ways of sin.

F. Who came to Zart's rescue when he prayed?

C. The gracious Lord who had at first received him into His Church by baptism.

F. Why was he still sad and ashamed after he was brought back?

C. Because he had wandered.

F. Did he then doubt whether he was forgiven?

C. No: but he "remembered and was confounded, and never opened his mouth any more, when the Lord was pacified toward him for all his iniquity."

F. What was the end of Kuhn, or the "bold?"

C. We know not; but they who "draw back unto perdition" are punished above all others.

F. What are we to learn from the whole?

C. The blessedness of being taken into the Church in our infancy; and our need of prayer and watching, lest we turn it into a curse.



The King and his Servants.

A great king once called his servants to him, and said to them,—"You have all often professed to love me, and to wish to serve me; and I have never yet made trial of you. But now I am about to try you all, that it may be known who does in truth desire to serve me, and who is a servant only in name. To morrow your trial will begin; so meet me here in the morning, and be ready to set out upon a journey on which I shall send you."

When the king had so spoken, he left them; and there was a great deal of bustle and talking amongst these servants. Not that they were all alike. Some were very busy, and said a great deal of the services they should render; and that they hoped it would be some really hard trial on which the king would set them. Others were quiet and thoughtful, saying little or nothing, but, as it seemed, thinking silently of the words the king had spoken, as if they feared lest they should fail in their trial. For they loved that king greatly; he had been as a father to them all. Once they had been slaves, and cruelly treated by a wicked tyrant who had taken them prisoners, and cast some of them into dungeons, and made others work in dark mines, and dealt evil with them all. But the king had triumphed over this their enemy, and rescued them from his hands. His own son had sought them in the dungeons and dark pits into which they had been cast, and had brought them out; and now he had given them places in his service, and fed them from his own kingly table; and he promised to such as were faithful, that he would raise them yet higher; that he would even set them upon thrones, and put crowns upon their heads; and that they should remain always in his presence, and rule and dwell with him. Now, when the time of their trial was come, these faithful servants were grave and thoughtful, fearing lest they should fail, and be led to forget him their kind and gracious king. But one thought held them up. He had said unto them all, "As your day, so shall your strength be." They knew, therefore, that he would put on them no task beyond their strength. They remembered his kindness and his love in taking them out of the dungeons of the enemy. They desired greatly to serve him; and so they rejoiced that their trial was come, even while they feared it; and they trusted in him to help them, even whilst they trembled for themselves.

These servants spent much of the night in preparing for their journey; in thinking over all the directions the king had ever given them; for many times had he spoken to them of this coming trial; and even written down plain rules for them, which should teach them always how he would have them act. All these they gathered together, lest in the hurry of setting out, they should forget any one of them; and so they went into the court of the palace to meet the king.

Then he came forth from his palace-door, and gave them all their charge.

From the great treasure-chambers of that palace he brought out many different gifts, and laid them before these his servants. One had gold and silver, and another had precious stuffs; but all had something good and costly: and as he gave them these gifts, he told them that this was to be their trial. He was about to send them with these gifts into an exceeding great and rich city, which lay afar off from his palace; and in that city they were all to trade for him. They were to take his gifts and use them wisely, so that each one of them might bring something back to him. He gave them also very close and particular instructions. He told them that there were many in that city who would try to rob them of these his gifts; and he told them how to keep them safely. He told them that many would seek to make them waste what he had given to them on pleasing themselves. But that they must remember always, that what they had belonged to him; that they would have to give him an account of their way of using all his gifts; and that of his mere mercy he, who had redeemed them from the dungeon and made them able to serve him, would graciously reward hereafter all their efforts to use his gifts for him. He told them also to set about trading for him as early as they could; for that all the merchants' goods were freshest in the morning; that then the precious stones were the finest and the truest; but that those who waited till the evening would find all the best goods sold; and that, perhaps, before they had any thing ready, the trumpet would sound which was to call them all out of the city, and then they would have to come back to him empty-handed and disgraced.

When he had given them these charges, he sent them from his presence to begin their journey to the great city. All that day they travelled with horses and camels over plains and hills, and fruitful fields and deserts, until, just as the sun went down, they came to the walls of a great city; and they knew that it was here they were to traffic for their king upon the morrow.

Then the thoughtful servants began carefully to unpack their goods; they looked into their bales of precious stuffs to see that they had got no injury from the dust and sand of the desert; they counted over their bags of money to see that all was right; and began to lay them all in order, that they might enter the town as soon as the gates were open, and trade for their king in the morning hours, which he had told them were the best.

{The King and His Servants: p115.jpg}

But some of the other servants laughed at them for taking all this care and trouble. "Surely it will be time enough," they said, "to get every thing ready when the markets are open to-morrow. We have had a long, hot, weary journey, and we must rest and refresh ourselves before we think of trading." So they spread the tables, and began to feast in a riotous way, quite forgetting the king's service, and putting the morrow out of their thoughts.

Now as soon as the sun was up, in the morning, there was a great stir amongst the servants. Those who had been careful and watchful in the evening were ready with all their bales; and as soon as ever the city- gates were open, they marched in through them with their goods. It was a great wide city into which they entered, and must hold, they thought, a vast multitude of men. Houses and streets of all sizes met their eyes here and there; but they passed easily along, because it was still so early in the morning, that few persons were in the streets, and those few were all bent upon business, as they were themselves. So they passed on to the great market where the merchants bought and sold, and here they set out all their goods; and the merchants came round them to look over their wares, and to shew them what they had to sell in return. Now they found it true as the king had foretold them. For they had the first choice of all that the merchants could offer. One of them opened his stores, and shewed them rubies, and diamonds, and pearls, such as they had never seen before for size and beauty. So they chose a pearl of great price, and they bought it for their prince, and they trafficked in their other wares, and gained for him more than as many bags of treasure as he had given them at first. Thus they traded according to their skill, and every one had now secured something for his lord. The pearl of great price was stored by some; others had rich dresses adorned with gold and precious stones; others had bags of the most refined gold; others had the spices of Arabia and the frankincense of the islands of the East.

One there was amongst them who seemed to have got nothing to carry home with him; and yet he, as well as the rest, had laid out his master's gifts. Then some of the other servants asked him, what he had stored up for the king? and he said that he had no riches which he could shew to them, but that he had an offering which he knew that the merciful heart of the king would make him love and value. Then they asked him to tell them his story; so he said that, as he was walking through the market, he had seen a poor woman weeping and wringing her hands, as if her heart would break: he stopped, and asked her the cause of her sorrow; and she told him that she was a widow, and that some merchants, to whom her husband had owed large sums of money, had come that morning to her house and taken all that she had, and seized her children too; and that they were dragging them away to the slave-market to sell them for slaves in a far land, that they might pay themselves the debt which her husband had owed them. So when he heard her sad tale, he opened his bag of treasure, and found that all the gold which he had got in it would just pay the widow's debt and set her children free. Then he went with her to the merchants, and he told out to them all that sum, and set the children of the widow free, and gave them back to their mother; "and I am taking," he said, "to our merciful king the offering of the widow's tears and gratitude; and I know well that this is an offering which will be well- pleasing in his sight."

So it fared with these faithful servants in their trading; and all the while they were cheerful and light-hearted, because they remembered constantly the love and kindness which their king had shewed to them; and they rejoiced that they were able to serve him and to trade for him with his gifts. They thought also of the goodness of the king's son towards them; they remembered how he had sought them when they were prisoners in the dark dungeons of their tyrant enemy; and they were full of joy when they thought that they should be able to offer to him the goodly pearl, and the other curious gifts, which they had bought. They thought of these things until they longed to hear the trumpet sound, which was to call them out of the town and gather them together for their journey home. When that trumpet might sound, they knew not; but the sun was now passed its noon, and the town, which had been so quiet when they came in the early morning along its empty streets, was now full of noise, and bustle, and confusion, as great towns are wont to be, when all the multitude of sleepers awaken and pour out for pleasure, or business, or idleness, into the streets, and squares, and market-places.

Heartily glad were they now that they had been so early at their traffic. Now the merchants had shut up all their richest stores; and the markets were full of others who brought false pearls and mock diamonds, instead of the costly gems for which they had traded in the morning. There seemed to be hardly any true traders left. Idlers were there in numbers, and shows and noisy revels were passing up and down the streets; and they could see thieves and bad men lurking about at all the corners, seeking whom they could catch, and rob, and plunder.

On all these things the servants looked; sometimes they saw beautiful sights pass by them, which gladdened their eyes; and sometimes sweet music would fill their ears, as bands of merry harpers and singers walked up and down through the market; and they rejoiced in all of these, but still their hearts were full of thoughts of their kind king, and recollections of his son their prince; and they longed to be at home with them, even when the sights round them were the gayest, and the sounds in their ears were the sweetest; and they were ever watching for the voice of the trumpet, which was to call them again homeward.

But this happy case was not that of all the servants. When these watchful men had been entering the gates of the city in the morning, the thoughtless servants were not yet awake. They had sat up late at their feasting and rejoicings, and when the morning sun rose upon them, they were still in their first deep sleep. The stirring of their fellow-servants moved them a little, and for a while they seemed ready to rise and join them. But their goods were not ready, so they could not go with them; and they might as well, therefore, they thought, wait a little longer and rest themselves, and then follow them to the market. They did not mean to be late, but they saw no reason why they should be so very early.

They slept, therefore, till the sun was high, and then they rose in some confusion, because it was now so late; and they had all their goods to unpack, their stuffs to smooth out, and the dust to shake off from them. Soon they began about every little thing to find fault with one another, because they were secretly angry with themselves. Each one thought that if his neighbour had not persuaded him to stay, he should have been up, and have entered the city with the earliest: so high words arose between them; and instead of helping one another, and making the best they could of the time which remained, they only hindered one another, and made it later and later before they were ready to begin their trading.

At length, after many hard words and much bad temper, one by one they got away; each as soon as he was ready, and often with his goods all in confusion; every one following his own path, and wandering by himself up the crowded streets of the full town.

Hard work they had to get at all along it when they had passed the gates. All the stream of people seemed now to be setting against them. The idlers jested upon their strange dress; and if they did but try to traffic for their lord, the rude children of the town would gather round them, and hoot, and cry: so that they could not manage to carry on any trade at all.

Then, as I watched them, I saw that some who had been the loudest in talking of what they should do when they were tried, were now the first to give up altogether making any head at all against the crowd of that city. They packed up what goods they might have, and began to think only of looking about them, and following the crowd, and pleasing themselves, like any of the men around them. Then I looked after some of these, and I saw that one of them was led on by the crowd to a place in the town where there was a great show. Outside of it were men in many-coloured dresses, who blew with trumpets, and jested, and cried aloud, and begged all to come in and see the strange sights which were stored within.

Now when the servant came to this place, he watched one and another go in, until at last he also longed to go in and see the sights which were to be gazed on within. So he went to the door, and the porter asked him for money; but when he drew out his purse, and the porter saw that his money belonged to some strange place, and was quite unlike the coin used in that town, he only laughed at it, and said it was good for nothing there, and bid him "stand back." So as he turned away, the porter saw the rich bundle on his back, and then he spoke to him in another tone, and he said, "I will let you in, if you like to give me that bundle of goods." Then for a moment the servant was checked. He thought of his lord and of the reckoning, and he remembered the words, "As good stewards of the manifold grace of God;" and he had almost determined to turn back, and to fight his way to the market-place, and to trade for his lord, let it cost him what it might;—but just at the moment there was a great burst of the showman's trumpets; and he heard the people shouting for joy within; and so he forgot all but his great desire, and slipping off the bundle from his shoulders, he put it into the hands of the porter, and passed in, and I saw him no more.

Then I saw another, who was standing at the corner of a street gating at some strange antics which were being played by a company of the townsmen. And as he gazed upon them, he forgot all about his trading for his master, and thought only of seeing more of this strange sight. Then I saw that whilst he was thinking only of these follies, some evil-minded men gathered round him, and before he was aware of it, they secretly stole from him all the gold which his lord had given him to lay out for him. The servant did not even know when it was gone, so much was he thinking of staring at the sight before him. But it made me very sad to think that when he went to buy for his master, he would find out, too late, his loss; and that when the trumpet sounded, he would have nothing to carry back with him on the day of reckoning.

Some of these loiterers, too, were treated even worse than this. One of them I saw whom the shows and lights of that town led on from street to street, until he came quite to its farther end; and then he thought that he saw before him, beyond some lonely palings, still finer sights than any he had left; and so he set out to cross over those fields, and see those sights. And when he was half over, some wicked robbers, who laid wait in those desolate places, rushed out upon him from their lurking- place, and ill used him sorely, and robbed him of all his goods and money, and left him upon the ground hardly able to get back to the town which he had left.

Then I saw one of these loiterers who, as he was looking idly at the sights round him, grew very grave, and began to tremble from head to foot. One of his fellows, who stood by and saw him, quickly asked him what made him tremble. At first he could not answer; but after a while he said, that the sound of the trumpet which they had just heard had made him think of the great trumpet-sound of their master, which was to call them all back to his presence, and that he trembled because the evening was coming on, and he had not yet traded for his lord. And "How," he said in great fear, "how shall we ever stand that reckoning with our hands empty?" Then some of his companions in idleness laughed and jeered greatly, and mocked the poor trembler. But his fears were wiser than their mockings; and so, it seemed, he knew, for he cared nothing for them; but only said to them, very sadly and gravely, "You are in the same danger, how then can you jeer at me?" And with that he pointed their eyes up to the sky, and shewed them how low the sun had got already, and that it wanted but an hour at the most to his setting, and then that the trumpet might sound at any moment, and they have nothing to bear home to their lord.

Now, as he spoke, one listened eagerly to him; and whilst the others jeered, he said very gravely, "What can we do? Is it quite too late?" "It is never too late," said the other, "till the trumpet sounds; and though we have lost so much of the day, perchance we can yet do something: come with me to the market-place, and we will try." So the other joined him, and off they set, passing through their companions, who shouted after them all the way they went, until the townsmen who stood round began to jeer and shout after them also: so that all the town was moved. A hard time those two had now, and much they wished that they had gone to the market-place in the early morning, when the streets were empty, and the busy servants had passed so easily along. Many were the rough words they had now to bear; many the angry, or ill-natured, crowd through which they had to push; and if any where they met one of their late and idle companions, he was sure to stir up all the street against them, when he saw them pushing on to the market-place.

"Do you think that we shall ever get there?" said he who had been moved by the other's words to him, who led the way, and buffeted with the crowd, like a man swimming through many rough waves in the strong stream of some swift river. "Do you think that we shall ever get there?" "Yes, yes," said the other; "we shall get there still, if we do but persevere." "But it is so hard to make any way, and the streets seem to grow fuller and fuller; I am afraid that I shall never get through."

Just as he spoke, a great band of the townspeople, with music, and trumpets, and dancing, met them like a mighty wave of the sea, and seemed sure to drive them back: one of their old companions was dancing amongst the rest; and as I looked hard at him, I saw that it was the same who had given away his precious burden in order to go into the show. Now, as soon as he saw these his former fellows, he called to them by their names, and bid them join him and the townsmen round him. But he that was leading the way shook his head, and said boldly: "No: we will not join with you; we are going to the market-place to traffic for our lord." "It is too late for that," said he; "you lost the morning, and now you cannot trade." Then I saw that he who before had trembled exceedingly grew very pale; but still he held on his way; and he said,—"Yes, we have lost the morning, and a sore thing it is for us; but our good lord will help us even yet; and we WILL serve him, 'redeeming the time, because the days are evil.'" Then he turned to the other and said to him,—

"And will not you stop either? Do not be fooled by this madman: what use is it to go to buy when the shops are all shut, and the market empty?" Then he hung down his head, and looked as though he would have turned back, and fallen into the throng; but his fellow seized him by the hand, and bid him take courage, and think upon his kind master, and upon the king's son, whose very blood had been shed for them; and with that he seemed to gather a little confidence, and held for a while on in his way with the other.

Then their old companion turned all his seeming love into hatred, and he called upon the crowd round him to lay hands on them and stop them; and this the rabble would fain have done, but that, as it seemed to me, a power greater than their own was with those servants, and strengthened them; until they pushed the rude people aside on the right and on the left, and passed safely through them into another street.

Here there were fewer persons, and they had a breathing-time for a while; and as they heard the sound of music and of the crowd passing by at some little distance from them, they began to gather heart, and to talk to one another. "I never thought," said the one, "that I could have held on through that crowd; and I never could, if you had not stretched out your hand to help me." "Say, rather, if our master's strength had not been with us," said the other. "But do you think," said he that was fearful, "that he will accept any thing we can bring him now, when the best part of the day is over?" "Yes, I do," he replied. "I have a good hope that he will; for I remember how he said, 'Return, ye backsliding children, return ye even unto me.'" "But how can one who is so trembling and fearful as I am ever traffic for him?" "You can, if you will but hold on; for he has once spoken of his servants 'as faint yet pursuing.'" "Well," said the other, "I wish that I had your courage; but I do believe that I should not dare to meet such another crowd as that we have just passed through; I really thought that they would tear us in pieces." "Our king will never let that be," said the other, "if only we trust in him." "But are you sure," replied he, "that our king does see us in this town?"

Just as he said this, and before his companion had time to answer him again, they heard a louder noise than ever, of men dancing, and singing, and crowding, and music playing, and horns blowing, as if all the mad sports of the city were coming upon them in one burst. At the front of all they could see their old companion; for the band had turned round by a different street, and now were just beginning to come down that one up which they were passing. Then he who had been affrighted before, turned white as snow; and he looked this way and that, to see what he could do.

Now it so happened, that just by where they stood was a great shop, and in its windows there seemed to shine precious stones and jewels, and fine crystals, and gold and ivory. And, as he looked, his eyes fell full upon the shop, and he said to his fellow,—"Look here; surely here is what we want: let us turn in here and traffic for our master, and then we shall escape all this rout which is coming upon us." "No, no!" said the other; "we must push on to the market; that is our appointed place; there our lord bids us trade: we must not turn aside from the trouble which our lateness has brought upon us—we must not offer to our master that which costs us nothing. Play the man, and we shall soon be in the market."

"But we shall be torn in pieces," said the other. "Look at the great crowd: and even now it seems that our old companion sees me, and is beginning to lead the rabble upon us." "Never fear," said he who led the way; "our king will keep us. 'I will not be afraid for ten thousands of the people who have set themselves against us round about.'"

Then I saw that he to whom he spoke did not seem to hear these last words, for the master of the shop had noticed how he cast his eyes upon the goods that were in the window, and was ready in a moment to invite him in. "Come in, come in," he said, "before the crowd sweep you away; come in and buy my pearls, and my diamonds, and my precious stones; come in, come in." And while he halted for a moment to parley with the man, the crowd came upon them, and he was parted from his friend, who had held up his fainting steps; and so he sprung trembling into the shop, scarcely thinking himself safe even there.

Now the man into whose house he had turned, though he was a fair-spoken man, and one who knew well how to seem honest and true, was altogether a deceiver. All his seeming jewels, and diamonds, and pearls, were but shining and painted glass, which was worth nothing at all to him who was so foolish as to buy it: but this the servant knew not. If it had been in the bright clear light of the morning, he would easily have seen that the diamonds and the pearls were only sparkling and painted glass, and the gold nothing but tinsel; but the bright light of the morning had passed away, and in the red slanting light of the evening sun he could not see clearly; and so the false man persuaded him, and he parted with all the rich treasures which his king had given him, and got nothing for them in exchange which was worth the having, for he filled his bag with bits of painted glass, which his lord would never accept.

However, he knew not how he had been cheated; or if, perhaps, a thought crossed his mind that all was not right, it was followed by another, which said that it was now too late to alter, and that if he had chosen wrongly, still he must abide by it; and so he waited for the trumpet. But he was not altogether happy; and often and often he wished that he had faced the strife of the multitude, and pressed on with his trusting companion to the market.

A hard struggle had been his before he had reached it. It seemed indeed at times as if the words of his fearful companion were coming true, and he would be torn altogether in pieces, so fiercely did the crowd press upon him and throng him. But as I watched him in the thickest part of it, I saw that always, just at his last need, something seemed to favour him, and the crowd broke off and left room for him to struggle by. I could hear him chanting, as it were, to himself, when the crowd looked upon him the most fiercely, "I will not be afraid for ten thousands of the people that have set themselves against me round about." And even as he chanted the words, the crowd divided itself in two parts, like a rushing stream glancing by some black rock; and on he passed, as though they saw him not.

So it continued, even till he reached the market-place. Right glad was he to find himself there: but even now all his trials were not over. Many of the stalls were empty, and from many more the fair and true traders were gone away; and instead of them were come false and deceitful men, who tried to put off any who dealt with them with pretended jewels and bad goods.

Then did he look anxiously round and round the market, fearing every moment lest the trumpet should sound before he had purchased any thing for his lord. Never, perhaps, all along the way, did he so bitterly regret his early sloth as now, for he wrung his hands together, and said in great bitterness, "What shall I do?" and, "How shall I, a loiterer, traffic for my lord?"

Then his eyes fell upon a shop where were no jewels, nor gold, nor costly silks, nor pearls of great price; but all that was in it was coarse sackcloth, and rough and hairy garments, and heaps of ashes, and here and there a loaf of bitter bread, and bitter herbs, and bottles wherein tears were stored. As he gazed on this shop something seemed to whisper to his heart, "Go and buy." So he went with his sorrowful heart, as one not worthy to traffic for his master, and he bought the coarsest sackcloth, and the ashes of affliction, and many bitter tears: and so he waited for the sounding of the trumpet.

Then suddenly, as some loud noise breaks upon the slumbers of men who sleep, that great trumpet sounded. All through the air came its voice, still waxing louder and louder; and even as it pealed across the sky, all that great city, and its multitudes, and its lofty palaces, and its show, and its noise, and its revels, all melted away, and were not. And in a moment all the servants were gathered together, and their lord and king stood amongst them. All else was gone, and they and their works were alone with him.

Then was there a fearful trial of every man's work. Then were they crowned with light and gladness who had risen early and traded diligently, and who now brought before their master the fruit of that toil, and labour, and pain. Each one had his own reward; and amongst the richest and the best—as though he brought what the king greatly loved—was his reward who brought unto his master the offering of gratitude from the broken-hearted widow.

Then drew near the servant who had wasted the morning, but had repented of his sloth, and had fought his way through the crowds, and had at last bought the sackcloth. Now he came bringing it with him; and it looked poor, and mean, and coarse, as he bore it amongst the heaps of gold, and jewels, and silks, which lay piled up all around; yet did he draw near unto the king; and as he came, he spoke, and said, "A broken and a contrite heart wilt thou not despise." And as he spake, the king looked graciously upon him: a mild and an approving smile sat upon his countenance, and he spoke to him also the blessed words, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant." Then did the coarse sackcloth shine as the most rich cloth of gold; then did the ashes of the furnace sparkle as a monarch's jewels; whilst every bitter tear which was stored in the bottle changed into pearls and rubies which were above all price.

Then the king turned to the careless servants, and his voice was terrible to hear, and from his face they fled away. I dared not to look upon them; but I heard their just and most terrible sentence, and I knew that they were driven away for ever from the presence of the king, in which is life and peace; and that they were bound under chains and darkness, deeper and more dreadful than those from which the king's son had graciously delivered them.

* * * * *

Father. In what part of God's word do we read such a parable as this?

Child. In the 25th chapter of St. Matthew's gospel, and at the 15th verse.

F. Who is the King who called his servants thus together?

C. Almighty God.

F. Who are meant by these servants trading in the town?

C. All of us Christians.

F. How do you know that they were Christians?

C. Because they had been delivered from slavery and dungeons by the King's own Son.

F. What is the great town to which they were sent?

C. This world.

F. What are the goods which God gave them to lay out for him?

C. Every thing which we have in this life: our strength, and health, and reason, and money, and time.

F. How may we trade with these for the King?

C. By trying to use them all so as to please Him and set forth His glory.

F. Who are those who rose up early to go into the town?

C. Those who begin to serve the Lord even from their youth.

F. What is shewn by their finding the streets easy to pass, and the markets full of rich goods?

C. That this service of God is far easier to such as begin to serve Him in youth; and that such are able to offer to Him the best gifts of early devotion, and their first love, and the zeal of youth, and tender hearts, and unclouded consciences.

F. What is taught us by their seeing the beautiful things of the city at their ease, after their diligent trading?

C. That those who serve God truly in a youthful piety commonly find more than others, that "godliness has promise of the life which now is, as well as of that which is to come."

F. Why were those who were late ready to quarrel with one another?

C. Because companions in sin have no real love for each other, but are always ready to fall out; being all selfish and separate from God.

F. What were the full streets they met with when they entered the town?

C. The many difficulties and hindrances which beset those who set about serving God late in life.

F. What were the shows, and the thieves, and the robbers, which troubled them?

C. The different temptations which come from the devil, the world, and the flesh.

F. Who were the crowds who withstood them?

C. Those who love this present world, and who therefore withstand those who seek to live for God's glory.

F. Who was he who sold the false jewels?

C. One of those who often make a prey of persons beginning, after a negligent youth, to feel earnest about religion, and of whom we read, Rom. xvi. 17, 18, "Now I beseech you, brethren, mark them which cause divisions and offences, contrary to the doctrine which ye have learned; and avoid them. For they that are such serve not our Lord Jesus Christ, but their own belly; and by good words and fair speeches deceive the hearts of the simple."

F. Who was he who held on through all difficulties to the market-place?

C. A truly humble penitent, who having turned to God with all his heart, leans not to his own understanding, but follows God's leading in all things; cleaving close to Christ's Church.

F. What were the sackcloth and ashes which he bought?

C. The true contrition of heart and deep sense of sin, which God gives to those who seek earnestly to turn away from all iniquity.

F. What was the sound of the trumpet?

C. The call of men to the general judgment.

F. Who were those whose trading the master was pleased to reward?

C. Those who had served God early; those who had given to Him the best of their youth; those who had been kind to others and helped the needy for His sake; those who had turned to Him in truth, and clave to Him with a humble penitence.

F. What was the end of the careless servants?

C. It is an awful end, which our blessed Saviour Jesus Christ speaks of thus: "Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." {148a} And, again, "These shall go away into everlasting punishment; but the righteous into life eternal." {148b}



The Prophet's Guard.

It was the very earliest morning. The day was not breaking as it does in this land of England, with a dewy twilight and a gradual dawning—first a dull glow all over the east, then blood-red rays, catching any fleecy cloud which is stealing over the sky, and turning all its misty whiteness into gold and fire;—but day was breaking as it does in those eastern countries—sudden, and bright, and hot. Darkness flew away as at a word; the thick shadows were all at once gone, and the broad glaring sun rose proudly in the sky, rejoicing in his strength. The people of the town woke up again to life and business. Doors were flung wide open, and some were passing through them; the flat roofs of the houses began to be peopled—on one was a man praying, on others two or three standing together; but most of the people were hastening here and there to get through their necessary work before the full heat of the day came on; numbers were passing and repassing to the clear dancing fountain, the cool waters of which bubbled up in the midst of a broad square within that city.

And now, what is it which one suddenly sees, and, after gazing at it for a while, points out to another, and he to a third? As each hears, they look eagerly up to the hill, which rises high above their town, until they gather into a knot; and then, as one and another are added to their company, grow into almost a crowd. Still it is in the same quarter that all eyes are fixed; their water-vessels are set idly down, as if they could not think of them. Those which were set under the fountain have been quite full this long time, but no one stooped to remove them; and the water has been running over their brimming sides, while its liquid silver flew all round in a shower of sparkling drops. But no one thinks of them. What is it which so chains all eyes and fixes the attention of all?

The hill is quite full of armed men. There were none there overnight: they have come up from the vale silently and stealthily during the darkness, while men slept, like some great mist rising in stillness from the waters, and they seem to be hemming in the town on every side. Look which way you will, the sun lights upon the burnished points of spears, or falls on strong shields, or flashes like lightning from polished and cutting swords, or is thrown a thousand ways by the rolling wheels of those war-chariots. "Who are they?" is the question of all; and no one likes to say what all have felt for a long time—"they are our enemies, and we are their prey."

But there is no use in shutting the eyes any longer to the truth. The morning breeze has just floated off in its airy waves that flag which before hung down lifelessly by the side of its staff. It has shewn all. They are enemies; they are fierce and bitter enemies; they are the Syrians, and they are at war with Israel.

But why are they come against this little town? When they have licked up it and its people like the dust from the face of the earth, they will be scarcely further on in their war against Israel. Why did not they begin with some of the great and royal cities? Why was it not against Jerusalem, or Jezreel, or even against the newly rebuilt Jericho? Why should they come against this little town?

Then one, an evil-looking man of a dark countenance, one who feared not God and loved not His servants, whispered to those around him, and said, "Have you not heard how Elisha the prophet, who dwells amongst us, has discovered to the king of Israel the secrets of the army of the king of Syria? No doubt it is because Elisha is dwelling here that the king of Syria has come upon us. And now shall we, and our wives, and our sweet babes, and our houses, and our treasures, become the prey of the king of Syria, for the sake of this Elisha. I never thought that good would come from his dwelling here."

Now, fear makes men cruel and suspicious, and fills their minds with hard thoughts; and many of these men were full of fear: and so, when they heard these words, they began to have hard bad thoughts of God's prophet, and to hate him, as the cause of all the evils which they were afraid would very soon come upon them.

Just then the door of another house opened: it was the prophet's house, and his servant came forth with the water-vessels to fill them at the fountain. He wondered to see the crowd of men gathered together, and he drew near to ask them what was stirring. He could read upon their dark scowling faces that something moved them exceedingly; but what it was he could not gather. He could not tell why they would scarcely speak to him, but looked on him with angry faces, and spoke under their breath, and said, "This is one of them." "'Twere best to give them up." "They will destroy us all." Then the man was altogether astonished; for his master had been ever humble, and kind, and gentle; no poor man had ever turned away without help when he had come in his sorrows to the prophet of the Lord. And yet, why were they thus angry with him, if it were not for his master's sake?

Broken sentences were all that he could gather; but, by little and little, he learned what they feared and what they threatened; he saw, also, the hosts of armed men gathered all around the city; and his heart, also, was filled with fear. He believed that it was for his master's sake that they were there; he saw that all around him were turned against his master, and he trembled exceedingly. For some time he stood amongst the rest, scarce knowing what to do, neither liking to remain nor daring to go; until at last, as some more stragglers joined themselves to the company, he slunk away like one ashamed, without stopping even to fill the water-vessels he had brought.

And so he entered his own door, heavy-hearted and trembling; and he went to the prophet's chamber, for he deemed that he still slept. But the man of God was risen; and he knew, therefore, where he should find him—that he would be upon the flat roof of his house, calling upon the name of the Lord his God, who had made another morning's sun to rise in its glory.

{The Prophet's Guard: p156.jpg}

So he followed his master to the housetop; and there, even as he had supposed, he found the holy man. It was a striking sight, could any one have seen the difference between these two men. The one pale and trembling and affrighted, like a man out of himself, and with no stay on which to rest his mind; the other calm and earnest, as, in deep and solemn prayer, with his head bowed and his hands clasped together, his low voice poured forth his thanksgiving, or spake of his needs; he also, as it seemed, was out of himself, but going out of himself that he might rest upon One who was near to him though his eye saw Him not, and who spake to him though his outward ear heard no voice of words.

Thus he continued for a season, as if he knew not that any man was nigh unto him; as if he knew not that there were, in the great world around him, any one besides his God with whom he communed, and his own soul which spake unto his God. All this time his servant stood by him, pale and trembling, but not daring to break in upon that hour of prayer; until at length the prophet paused, and his eye fell upon the trembler; and he turned towards him, and said kindly, "What ails thee, my son?" Then the servant answered, "O my father, look unto the hill." And he stood gazing in the prophet's face, as though he expected to see paleness and terror overspread it when his eyes gathered in the sight of those angry hosts. But it was not so. No change passed over his countenance; his brow was open as it was before; the colour never left his cheeks; and, with almost a smile, he turned unto the servant, and said, "And why does this affright thee?" "It is for thee they seek, my father—it is for thee they seek; and the wicked men of the town are ready to fall upon thee and deliver thee into their hands. Even now, as I walked along the street, they looked on me with fierce and cruel eyes; and they breathed threats which these lips may not utter, and said, that thou hadst brought this trouble upon them, and their wives, and their little ones; and I feared that they would curse thee and thy God." But the prophet was not moved by his words, for he only answered, "Fear them not; they that are with us are more than they that are against us." Then did the servant cast his eyes to the ground, and he spake not, yet his lips moved; and if any one had heard the words which he whispered, they might perhaps have heard him ask how this could be, when they were but two, and their enemies were so many and so mighty.

Now the prophet's eye rested upon him, and he read all his secret thoughts; and he pitied his weakness, for that holy man was full of pity for the weak: so he chid him not; but, bowing his knees again on that flat roof, he prayed unto his God to open the eyes of his affrighted servant. His prayer was heard. For there fell from them as it were films; and now, when he looked out, he saw a glorious sight. All the mountain was full; and they were a wonderful company which filled it. The dark hosts of the Syrians, and their glancing swords and clashing chariots, now looked but as a mere handful; for the whole mountain round them was full of that heavenly army. Chariots of fire and horsemen of fire thronged it in every part. High up into the viewless air mounted their wheeling bands: rank beyond rank, and army beyond army, they seemed to stretch on into the vastness of space, until the gazer's wearied eye was unable to gaze on them. And all of these were gathered round his master. They were God's host, keeping guard over God's servant. And they who would injure him must first turn aside those flashing swords, must break up that strong and serried array, and be able to do battle with God's mighty angels.

Then was the weak heart strong. Then did the poor trembler see that he was safe; and know that he who is on God's side can never want companions and defenders.



The Brothers' Meeting; OR, The Sins of Youth.

A large company was winding its way slowly out of the vale in which the river Jordan runs. The sun was just beginning to strike hotly upon them, and make them long for rest and shelter, as they toiled up the open sandy hills and amongst the great masses of rock with which that country was strewn.

It was a striking sight to see those travellers. First went three troops of kine, lowing as they went; camels with their arched necks, stooping shoulders, and forward ears; asses with their foals; ewes and lambs; and goats with their kids, which mounted idly upon every rock that lay by their road-side, and then jumped as idly down again; and before and after these, drivers in stately turbans and long flowing robes, keeping the flocks and herds to their appointed way. Then came large droves of cattle, and sheep, and goats, and asses, stirring up with their many feet the dust of the sandy plain, till it fell like a gentle shower powdering with its small grains all the rough and prickly plants which grew in tufts over the waste. Then was there a space; and after that were seen two bands of camels,—the best they seemed to be of all the flock, those which came last especially,—and on them were children and women riding, over whom hung long veils to shelter their faces from the hot breath of the sandy desert through which they had travelled. And after all these came one man, with his staff in his hand and a turban on his head, walking slowly, as one who walked in pain and yet walked on, following those who went before.

If you had stood near to that man, you might, perhaps, have heard him speaking to God in prayer and thanksgiving; you might have heard him saying to himself, "with my staff passed I over this Jordan, and now I am become two bands:" or you might have heard him earnestly calling upon the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac his father, to keep him safe in the great danger which now lay close before him. His mind was certainly very full of that danger; for he kept looking up from the sand on which his eyes were often fixed, and gazing as far as he could see over the hills before him, as if he expected to see some great danger suddenly meet him on his way, and as if, therefore, he wished to be quite ready for it.

If you looked into his face, you could see at once that he was not a common man. He was not a very old man; his hair was not yet grey upon his head; and yet it seemed, at the first glance, as if he was very old. But as you looked closer, you saw that it was not so; but that many, many thoughts had passed through his mind, and left those deep marks stamped even on his face. It was not only sorrow, though there was much of that; nor care, though he was now full of care; but besides these, it seemed as if he had seen, and done, and felt great things—things in which all a man's soul is called up, and so, which leave their impress behind them, even when they have passed away.

He HAD seen great things, and felt great things. He had seen God's most holy angels going up to heaven, and coming down to earth upon their messages of mercy. He had heard the voice of the Lord of all, promising to be his Father and his Friend. And only the night before, the Angel of the covenant had made himself known to him in the stillness of his lonely tent, and made him strong to wrestle with him for a blessing, until the breaking of the day. So that it was no wonder, that when you looked into his face, it was not like the face of a common man, but one which was full of thought, which bore almost outwardly the stamp of great mysteries.

But what was it which now filled this man with care? He was returning home from a far land where he had been staying twenty years, to the land where his father dwelt. He had gone out a poor man; he was coming home a rich man. He was bringing back with him his wives, and his children, and his servants, and his flocks, and his herds; and of what was he afraid? Surely he could trust the God who had kept him and blessed him all these twenty years, and who had led him now so far on his journey?

Why should he fear now, when he was almost at his father's tent?

It was because he heard that HIS BROTHER was coming to meet him. But why should this fill him with such fear? Surely it would be a happy meeting; brothers born of the same father and of the same mother, who had dwelt together in one tent, kneeled before one father's knees in prayer, and joined together in the common plays of childhood,—surely their meeting must be happy, now that they have been twenty years asunder, and God has blessed them both, and they are about to see each other again in peace and safety, and to shew to each other the children whom God had given them, and who must remind them of their days of common childhood. And why then is the man afraid? Because when he left his father's house this brother was very angry with him, and he fears that he may have remembered his anger all these twenty years, and be ready now to revenge himself for that old quarrel.

And yet, why should this make such an one to fear? Even if his brother be still angry with him, and have cruel and evil thoughts against him, cannot God deliver him?—cannot the same God who has kept him safely all these twenty years of toil and labour, help and save him now? Why then does he fear so greatly? He has not forgotten that this God can save him—he has not for a moment forgotten it; for see how earnestly he makes his prayer unto Him: hear his vows that if God will again deliver him, he and all of his shall ever praise and serve him for this mercy. Yet still he is in fear; and he seems like a man who thought that there was some reason why the God who had heard him in other cases should not hear him in this.

What was it, then, which pressed so heavily upon this man's mind? It was the remembrance of an old sin. He feared that God would leave him now to Esau's wrath, because he knew that Esau's wrath was God's punishment of his sin. He feared that Esau's hand would slay his children, as God's chastisement for the sins of his childhood. He remembered that he had lied to Isaac his father, and mocked the dimness of his aged eyes by a false appearance; now he trembled lest his father's God should leave the deceiver and the mocker to eat the bitter fruit of his old sin. It was not so much Esau's wrath, and Esau's company, and Esau's arms, which he feared—though all these were very terrible to this peaceful man,—as it was his own sin in days long past, which now met him again, and seemed to frown upon him from the darkness before him. In vain did he strive to look on and see whether God would guide him there, for his sin clouded over the light of God's countenance. It was as when he strained his eyes into the great sand-drifts of the desert through which he had passed: they danced and whirled fearfully before him, and baffled all the strivings of his earnest gaze.

But the time of trial was drawing very near. And how did it end? Instead of falling upon him and slaying him and his; instead of making a spoil of the oxen, and the asses, and the camels, and giving the young children to the sword, Esau's heart melted as soon as they met; he fell upon his brother's neck and kissed him; he looked lovingly upon the children who had been born to him in the far land; he spake kindly of the old days of their remembered childhood, of the grey-haired man at home; and he would not take even the present which his brother had set apart for him.

Jacob knew who it was that had turned his brother's heart, and he felt more than ever what a strong and blessed thing prayer and supplication was. Nor did he forget his childhood's sin against his God. It had looked out again upon him in manhood, and reminded him of God's holiness, of his many past misdeeds, and made him pray more earnestly not to be made to "possess the iniquities of his youth."

* * * * *

Father. What should we learn from this account of Jacob's meeting Esau?

Child. That God remembers and often visits long afterwards the sins of our childhood.

F. Does not God, then, forgive the sins of children?

C. Yes, He does forgive them, and blot them out for Christ's sake.

F. Why, then, do we say that He visits them?

C. Because He often allows the effects of past sins to be still their punishment, even when He has forgiven them.

F. Why does He do so?

C. To shew us how He hates sin.

F. What should we learn from this?

C. To watch against every sin most carefully, because we never can know what may be its effects; to remember how God has punished it, often for years, in His true servants; to pray against sin; to think no sin little.

F. What should we do, if we find the consequences of past sin coming upon us?

C. Take our chastisement meekly; humble ourselves under God's hand; pray for deliverance, as, "Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions: according to thy mercy remember thou me for thy goodness' sake, O Lord" (Ps. xxv. 7).

F. What should be the effect on us when God hears our prayer, and delivers us?

C. It should make us more humbly remember our sins and unworthiness, and strive to shew forth our thankfulness, "not with our lips only, but in our lives."

{Finis: p172.jpg}

LONDON: PRINTED BY GILBERT & RIVINGTON, St. John's Square.



Footnotes:

{6} Rev. xxii. 2.

{45a} Lover of God.

{45b} Wanderer.

{45c} Timid.

{46} Help.

{49a} Prov. ii. 19.

{49b} Ps. cxix. 9.

{76} Isaiah xlii. 16.

{79a} Isaiah xxxv. 3, 4.

{79b} Ps. cxix. 67.

{80} Isaiah xxxv. 9.

{95a} Bold, or Rash.

{95b} Tender.

{96} Faith.

{148a} Matt. xxv. 30.

{148b} Ib. xxv. 46.

THE END