Stepping stones to manhood

You cannot serve a better Master. He will set you free and keep you so. Any other service is slavery—but His service is perfect freedom. Work for Him. Let your life count upon the side of Christ, and for the welfare of the world.

You cannot imagine what a glorious destiny is before you if you give yourself and your life to Him.

The poet Virgil was said to have cast an enchantment on one of the public gates of Naples. All who passed the sculptured, smiling face on one side prospered, but those who passed under the frowning figure on the opposite side were doomed from the outset to disaster. Many now believe in such superstitious ideas, and “Chance” is charged with the ups and downs of thousands. Common sense and experience assure us that the one main condition of success is work. The practical person takes no stock in what Shakespeare calls “giddy fortune’s fickle wheel,” but instead relies on “Heaven helps those that help themselves.”

A dying farmer called to his bedside his three lazy sons and said to them: “My sons, a great treasure lies hid in the estate which I am about to leave you.” “Where is it hid?” exclaimed the sons in a breath. “I am about to tell you,” said the old man, “you will have to dig for it—” His breath failed him before imparting the weighty secret, and he died. Forthwith the sons set to work upon the long-neglected fields. They discovered no treasure, but they learned to work, and when these fields were sown, and the harvest came, the yield in consequence of the thorough tilling was prodigious. Then was it they discovered the treasure concealed in the estate, of which their wise old father had advised them.

The same rule holds good in the work of Jesus. Work is ordained by God, and should be ordained by us for God. The establishment of the religion of Christ in all lands, the numberless churches, the schools of learning and the asylums for the needy owe all to the energy and toil of the adherents of Christ. In the Bible Christianity is represented as a temple, but Christians are the builders. Life is spoken of as a warfare, but Christians are the soldiers. Work is shown to be the divine test of greatness, but Christians are the workers. To simply love God is not sufficient, for love must prove itself by labor. To have faith is not enough, for “Faith without works is dead.” (James 2:20). It is like a fish without water and a watch without springs. Philip might have said to Nathaniel: “I would not be surprised if we met Jesus to-day,” but the record tells us he “findeth Nathaniel and saith unto him, ‘We have found Him of whom Moses in the law and the prophets did write.’” (John 1:45). Harlan Page, pressed with business cares and battling with ill-health, might have said, “Well, now, I believe God will send laborers into His vineyard,” but he went to work and led a hundred young men into the ministry by consecrating his personal influence to Christ.

LAYING BRICKS.

A little over half a century ago a boy heard his pastor say to the trustees that he would like a new brick walk laid around the old church. They replied it was impossible as there were no funds in the treasury. That boy wanted to do something for his Master, so he said to himself: “I will do what I can to lay the walk about the church.” He went to a brickyard section of Philadelphia, and asked one of his father’s friends to give him a thousand brick, of another friend he asked a like amount; and another, until he thought he had secured a sufficient number to complete the walk. He then asked some of the men and boys whom he knew very well to help place them in position. They did so, beginning on Thursday and completing the work at half past ten o’clock Saturday night.

This lad had a great desire to know what the pastor would say, so he made his way very early Sunday morning to a place where he could see his pastor and not be seen by him. Soon after Dr. Chambers came down the street and started to go to his study, when he realized that his feet were standing on a new pavement. He took off his glasses and rubbed them. Putting them on he began to walk up and down, first on Sansom and then on Broad Street. He made the journey two or three times. The young man was soon walking along after him apparently unconcerned. The pastor had made his last trip over the walk, and turning around saw the lad. The tears began to flow as he said, “My son, who did this?” The young man looked up and said, “Dr. Chambers, I helped to do it.” Then Dr. Chambers put his hands on the young man’s shoulders and said, “God bless you, my son, you have made your old pastor’s heart glad. You have greatly aided me in my church work.” That boy was John Wanamaker.

THE COMMAND.

There is one reason which should prompt every boy to work. Jesus says, “Son, go work to-day in My vineyard.” (Matt. 21:28). He has elected boys as well as men, and commissioned them to do His will. Note the loving title which He uses. “Son.” Not slave, or servant, but son, thus presenting the fact of near relationship. Son, do what? “Work.” That’s the philosopher’s stone which turns everything to gold, and the key that unlocks the treasures of nature. By it the muscles are hardened, the intellect strengthened, and slumbering genius awakened. “Son, go work!” When? “To-day,” thus showing it is a present need, for the night cometh when no boy can work.

Ledyard, on being summoned before the Geographical Society of Great Britain was told they desired him to visit and do certain work in Africa. After enumerating the perils, the exposure, the hard work, they asked when he could be ready to start. “To-morrow morning,” was the reply. The learned men were astonished. They thought it would take weeks and months to get ready. But God requires even greater promptness than Ledyard’s. He asks, “to-day.” There’s not a moment that has not a work assigned to it, and if neglected it is left undone forever. Like a ship at sea, with compass gone, the boy loses his bearings. It is by the velocity with which a ball is shot from a cannon that it is kept from the ground. It is by a peculiar law that electricity will keep to the wire till it reaches a break, and thus an active Christian boy will keep at the Master’s work until life ends. He will be a Samuel, saying: “Here am I,” (2 Sam. 3:5) and a Paul, “What wilt Thou have me to do?” (Acts 9:6).

EQUIPMENT.

God not only calls us to work, but He also has a definite work, and equips every worker with ability to do that work. It is not sufficient to testify of being saved and a willingness to be used by God. No. God has something especially for every Christian to do. As surely as we have named the name of Jesus, so surely have we been called to do His service,—a service that is for each one just as definite as for any who have lived before us. We may not be able to do what we would like, but we can do a great deal more than we do for the Master. It is not always—

There was a boy who led thousands to Christ. He was converted under somewhat peculiar circumstances, and owed the beginning of his religious life largely to the influence exerted upon him by the silent performance of an act of religious duty on the part of a room-mate and fellow-apprentice. This boy’s early years were such as to produce a very unquiet conscience, but the claims of religion continued to assert themselves in his soul amid all his irregularities of conduct. At last he began to have longings for a better life. Sometimes on a Sabbath he would go away by himself and pray. “I wanted to be a Christian,” he said, “but knew not how. I prayed that the Lord would raise up someone in the house to be my guide. I am sure I was sincere in this, and now came the turning point of my life. The gentleman with whom I lived was in need of money, so he took another apprentice for the sake of the premium. This youth had been religiously educated. The apprentices all slept in the same room. The first time this boy lodged with us he knelt down by his bed and prayed in silence. The thought instantly occurred to me as I looked with surprise on the youth bending before God, that there was the answer to my prayer. So it proved. I became acquainted with him and with boyish simplicity he told me the love of Jesus. It was not long before the light of the Gospel shone in my heart.” This boy that did his duty so silently and unconsciously is not known to us, but the boy he led to Christ and who became such a great soul-winner was the eloquent Henry James.

Joel Stratton was a poor, unlettered young man, but he led the great temperance worker John B. Gough to Jesus. It was a kind word and a hearty handshake that brought the white-headed, clear-brained, sweet-spirited, silver-tongued Bishop Simpson to Christ. Robert Eaglen is unknown but for one thing. One day standing up in meeting he attempted to preach the gospel. Before him was Charles Haddon Spurgeon, of whom the great evangelist Richard Knill once said: “That voice will be heard by thousands.” Knill exacted a promise from him, that when he preached in Rowland Hill’s great chapel in London, he would announce the hymn, “God moves in a mysterious way.” This boy heard Eaglen give out the text, “Look unto Me, and, be ye saved.” (Isa. 45:22). Then he caught the eye of the speaker looking at him as he cried, “Look! Look! Look! only look and be saved.” Through that sermon Charles Spurgeon became a Christian. At sixteen he preached his first sermon. At nineteen he was placed on trial as a candidate for a pastorate. He was greeted by an audience of two hundred persons to hear the first sermon, but before his three months’ trial was over, the twelve hundred sittings were all taken, and within a year the house was enlarged. The Royal Surrey Garden Music Hall was then engaged while a larger tabernacle was being built. Ten and twelve thousand people flocked to hear him. Rich and poor, lords and laborers sat at his feet. Men said, “What a brilliant meteor.” But he proved to be a fixed star. He wrote many books, built orphanages until five hundred children were sheltered, erected a college and did a vast amount of good. Great honor is his, but how great that of Robert Eaglen who led him to Jesus.

ONE BOY’S WORK.

Mrs. Phoebe Palmer once told of a boy in England who went to his pastor and asked him if there was something he could do for the Lord. The pastor said, “Why, I don’t know. I do not think you are capable of teaching a class, and hardly old enough to be a judicious tract distributor. I don’t know what you can do.” “Seems to me,” said the boy, “there ought to be something for us boys to do.” The pastor thought a moment and then he asked, “Is your seat-mate in school a Christian?” “No, sir, I think not.” “Then go to work, as the Lord shall show you how, and get him converted. Then take another and another. I cannot tell you exactly what to do, but if you pray, the Saviour will show you how to get them saved.” Some months after when Mrs. Palmer was holding meetings in that place, this boy was lying very ill. The doctors gave him up to die. His father went to the afternoon meeting, and coming home, the boy roused up and asked: “Was Ned Smith at the meeting this afternoon?” “Yes, my son.” “Did he give his heart to the Lord Jesus Christ?” “No, I think not.” “Oh, dear,” said the dying boy, “I thought he would.”

The next day his father again went to the meeting. When he came home the son asked him the same question and expressed the same disappointment that his friend was not converted. The third day he asked the same question and received a different answer. “Yes, Ned gave his heart to the Saviour this afternoon.” “I am so glad,” was the answer. After his death, his parents opened a little box he kept near him, and found a piece of paper with forty boys’ names written upon it. The first one was his seat-mate at the time when he went to the pastor and asked for something to do for the Lord; the last name was that of Ned Smith. Every boy on the list was converted. He had taken them one by one in faith and prayer, giving them books to read, showing them texts of scripture, taking them to church and talking to them about their sins and how Christ would forgive them, and the whole forty had been converted through his efforts.

THE KIND OF A WORKER.

There is plenty of work a boy can do for Jesus. There are tracts to distribute, acts of love to be shown to the sick and aged. There are boys who can be influenced to go to Sunday-school and church. Beethoven’s maxim was, “Not a day without a line,” and the boy’s should be, “Every day this one thing I do, something to lead a soul nearer to Jesus.” Be a patient and careful worker. “The one prudence in life,” said Ralph Waldo Emerson, “is concentration; the one evil is dissipation.” Paul’s exhortation to Timothy was, “Show thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed,” (2 Tim. 2:15), a first-class workman. To be this demands judicious planning and careful executing. It is not so much the amount done, but the way in which it is done. A right motive to a right way is found in the fact: “Thou God seest me.” (Gen. 10:13).

Hooker, speaking of Edward VI. said, “He died young but lived long, if life be action.” John Summerfield was but twenty-seven when he died, yet with a frail body, he lived long enough to tell the Gospel message to the whole English-speaking race of his time. “So little done, so much to do,” said Cecil Rhodes on his death-bed. Though a man of affairs and a prodigious worker he sorrowed over the fact that he was leaving much unaccomplished. One of Napoleon’s dying veterans received on the battlefield the grand cross of the “Legion of Honor” from the Emperor’s hand and said “Now I die satisfied.” My boy, may you be enrolled in God’s Legion of Honor. Let nothing discomfort you. Make condition your bond slave, grasp opportunity by the forelock and work out destinies in sunshine and darkness, so that you may hear the Master’s voice after the labor and battles of life are o’er.

My family and I were in Copenhagen one Fourth of July, so we hung our American flag out of the window of the hotel. Up came the United States consul, saying: “I knew there must be some good Americans behind that flag.” How glad we were to see one of our countrymen in a strange land. What favors he showed us and what honors he caused to come to us.

We belong to a better country. Let us hang out the flag. The King of the country said: “If any man serve Me, him will My Father honor,” (John 12:26) and “He that shall confess Me before men, him will I confess also before My Father which is in heaven.” (Matt. 10:32). What is your name? Be it John, Henry or whatever else, how pleasant to hear it confessed in that place, that company and by that royal King.

It is not merely there and then that our names are confessed, but here and now: the Spirit beareth witness in our hearts that we are the children of God. The Holy Ghost is a witness to us now, as really as we are witnesses for God. Mutual relations are best relations. Abel obtained witness that he was righteous; so may we.

In city courtrooms there is a certain stand known as the “witness stand,” from which individuals give evidence for or against the accused whose trial is pending. Sometimes the evidence is the means of convicting and sometimes freeing the accused. Before giving the testimony, however, they are required on oath to tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

In like manner this world is one large courtroom, and there are many witnesses testifying daily for or against right, truth and Christ. Every political party is championed by witnesses who talk and vote for it. Satan has his witnesses and they are easily distinguished. The world has its witnesses. They run after the follies and amusements of this life, all of which leave an aching void. And why should not Christ, who is pure, kind, loving and helpful have witnesses? “Ye are My witnesses, saith the Lord.” (Isa. 43:10). To be a true Christian is to be a witness for Jesus.

A BRAVE WITNESS.

When Frederick the Great of Prussia was ridiculing Christ and Christianity before a company of jolly nobles and officers of the army, there was one brave general who remained gloomily silent. It was Joachim von Zietan, one of the ablest and bravest officers present. Rising and shaking his gray head solemnly, he said to the King: “Your Majesty knows well in war I have never feared any danger, and everywhere I have boldly risked my life for you and for my country. But there is One above us who is greater than all men. He is my Saviour and Redeemer, who has died for Your Majesty, and has dearly bought us all with His own blood. That Holy One I can never allow to be mocked or insulted, for on Him I repose my faith, my comfort and my hope in life and death. In the power of this faith your brave army has courageously fought and conquered. If Your Majesty undermines this faith, you undermine at the same time the welfare of your State. I salute Your Majesty.” Frederick looked at the man in admiration, and in the presence of the illustrious company, apologized for what he had said. So no boy ever stands for Jesus, but that he awakens in the heart of those who make light of spiritual matters a sense of honor and respect for him and his testimony.

HOW TO WITNESS FOR JESUS.

It is not every one who says the most that does the most good. Actions speak louder than words. Nearness to Christ means Christ shining in the life. Seneca said regarding the quality of life: “It is the bounty of nature that we live, but of philosophy that we live well.” Paul said, “I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.” (Gal. 2:20). “You may depend upon it,” says Lavatar, “that he is a good man whose intimate friends are good,” and no friend is so good or dear as Jesus. Every boy should witness for Christ because wicked men oppose the work He wrought. From the trial of Christ to the present, there have been those who have ridiculed His blessed atonement. They have uttered blasphemous epithets and have advanced many arguments to demolish the church He organized. Every manner of persecution has been hurled against His people. Yet in spite of fire, sword, rack and thumbscrew the adherents of Jesus number more than ever before. Atheists and infidels have warred against the Christian religion, but we are living witnesses against them and their theories, “Their rock is not as our Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges.” (Deut. 32:31).

BEECHER AND INGERSOLL.

Colonel Ingersoll was one day in the society of Henry Ward Beecher and four or five gentlemen, all of whom were prominent in the world of literature. Several different topics were discussed with decided brilliancy, but no allusion was made to religion. The distinguished infidel was too polite to introduce the subject, but one of the party finally desiring to see a tilt between Mr. Ingersoll and Mr. Beecher made a playful remark about Colonel Ingersoll’s idiosyncrasy, as he termed it. The Colonel at once defended his views with his usual apt rhetoric and eloquence. He was met by several gentlemen in very effective repartee. Contrary to the expectations of all Mr. Beecher remained an abstracted listener. The gentleman who introduced the topic with hope that Mr. Beecher would answer Colonel Ingersoll, at last remarked, “Mr. Beecher, have you nothing to say on this question?”

The old man slowly lifted himself from his attitude and replied, “Nothing, in fact. If you will excuse me for changing the conversation, I will say that while you gentlemen were talking, my mind was bent on a most deplorable spectacle which I witnessed to-day.” “What was it?” at once inquired Colonel Ingersoll, who, notwithstanding his peculiar views of the hereafter, was noted for his kindness of heart. “Why,” said Mr. Beecher, “as I was walking I saw a poor blind man with crutches, slowly and carefully picking his way through a morass of mud in the endeavor to cross the street. He had just reached the middle of the filth when a big, burly ruffian rushed up to him, jerked the crutches from under the unfortunate man and left him sprawling and helpless in the pool of liquid dirt, which almost engulfed him.” “What a brute he was!” said the Colonel. “What a brute he was!” they all echoed. “Yes,” said the old man, rising from his chair and brushing back his long, white hair, while his eyes glittered with his old-time fire, as he bent them on Ingersoll, “yes, Colonel Ingersoll, and you are the man. The human soul is lame, but Christianity gives it crutches to enable it to pass the highway of life. It is your teaching that knocks these crutches from under it and leaves it a helpless and rudderless wreck in the slough of despond. If robbing the human soul of its only support on earth be your profession, ply it to your heart’s content. It requires an architect to erect a building; an incendiary may reduce it to ashes.”

The old man sat down and silence brooded over the scene. Colonel Ingersoll found that he had a master in his own power of illustration and said nothing. The company took their hats and departed. Unbelief may scoff but it cannot controvert the fact, Jesus saves to the uttermost all who come unto Him.

WHAT OTHERS SAY.

A boy should witness for Christ, for as master minds declare, His character is spotless. Christ stands the ideal among men. The Roman centurion called Him: “The Son of God” (Matt. 27:54); Judas, “The innocent blood,” (Matt. 27:4); Pilate, “The Man without fault” (Luke 23:4); Josephus, “The wise man” and Celsus, “The miracle-working magician.” Diderot the atheist speaking of the history calls it “The unsurpassed story.” Napoleon declared Christ to be “The Emperor of Love;” John Stuart Mill “The guide of humanity;” Renan “The greatest among the sons of men;” Robert Owen “The irreproachable;” Theodore Parker “The youth with God in his heart;” to which millions add, He “is all and in all,” (Col. 10:32) “and over all, God blessed for ever.”

THE PROMISE.

A boy should witness for Christ because Christ has promised to witness for him before His Father. “Whosoever therefore,” said He, “shall confess Me before men, him will I confess before My Father which is in heaven.” (Matt. 10:32). Dr. Theodore Cuyler says the word “confession” is a very deep and far-reaching one. It refers to the heart, then to the lips, and then to the daily life. Whoever would be saved must embrace Christ in the heart; this signifies conversion. Next we must acknowledge Him with the life; this is what is usually styled “a profession of faith.” Above all, those who make this open confession are expected to honor Christ by obedience to His commandments; this is vital Christianity. To all who honestly make confession Christ has promised He will own as “His brethren and chosen” in this world and in the next.

It was a drummer boy by the name of Charlie Couston that led the great Dr. Roosvalley to Christ. After the battle of Gettysburg this boy was so frightfully wounded that it necessitated the amputation of an arm and leg. When chloroform was about to be administered he politely refused it. The doctor asked the reason. “Doctor,” said he, “one Sunday afternoon in the Sabbath-school when I was nine and a half years old, I gave my heart to Christ. I have been trusting Him ever since, and I know I can trust Him now. He is my strength and stimulant. He will support me while you amputate my arm and leg.” The doctor asked if he would take a little brandy. Looking up, the lad answered, “Doctor, when I was about five years old my mother knelt by my side with her arm about my neck, and said, ‘Charlie, I am praying to Jesus that you may never know the taste of strong drink. Your papa died a drunkard, and I promised God, if it was His will that you should grow up, that you should warn young men against the bitter cup.’ I am now seventeen years of age, but I have never tasted anything stronger than tea or coffee; and as I am in all probability about to go into the presence of God, would you send me there with brandy on my stomach?”

The operation began. While cutting through the flesh Charlie never groaned, but when the surgeon took the saw to separate the bone, the lad took the corner of the pillow in his mouth, and prayed: “Oh, Jesus, blessed Jesus, stand by me now.” Five days after this, Charlie sent for Dr. Roosvalley, to whom he said, “Doctor, my time has come. I do not expect to see another sunrise, but thank God I am ready to go; before I die I desire to thank you with all my heart for your kindness to me. Doctor, you are a Jew, you do not believe in Jesus; will you please stand here and see me die, trusting my Saviour to the last moment of my life?”

The doctor remained. Taking his hand Charlie continued: “Doctor, I love you because you are a Jew; the best friend I have found in this world was a Jew.” Dr. Roosvalley asked who was that. Charlie answered: “Jesus Christ, to whom I want to introduce you before I die, and will you promise me that what I am about to say, you will never forget?” The surgeon promised. “Five days ago,” said the dying boy, “while you amputated my arm and leg, I prayed to the Lord Jesus Christ to convert your soul.” The boy soon died, and the words had their effect, for the surgeon soon became a Christian.

About eighteen months later, Dr. Roosvalley attended a prayer meeting in Brooklyn. Among those who gave their testimony was an elderly lady who said, “Dear friends, this may be the last time I shall have the privilege of testifying for Christ. My family physician told me yesterday that my right lung is nearly gone, and my left one is very much affected; I have but a short time to be with you, but what is left of me belongs to Jesus. Oh! it is a great joy to know that I shall meet my boy with Jesus in heaven. My son was not only a soldier for his country, but a soldier for Christ. He was wounded at the Battle of Gettysburg, and fell into the hands of a Jewish doctor who amputated his arm and leg, but he died five days after the operation. The Chaplain wrote me a letter and sent me my boy’s Bible.” In the letter he informed me that my Charlie said to the Jewish doctor: “Doctor, before I die, I wish to tell you that five days ago, while you amputated my arm and leg, I prayed to the Lord Jesus Christ to convert your soul.” No sooner had these words fallen from her lips, than the doctor left his seat, crossed the room and taking her hand said, “God bless you, my sister, your boy’s prayer was heard and answered. I am the Jewish doctor for whom your Charlie prayed. His Saviour is now my Saviour.”

Oh, my boy, there is no need of your living or dying without doing what Charlie Coulston did. Someone is waiting for your advice and invitation to come to Christ. While a lad was showing Mr. Charles Spurgeon to a church where he was to preach he was asked, “Do you love your Master?” The boy stopped and said, “Mr. Spurgeon, for years I have shown ministers to the church, and not one has ever asked me that question.” The result was a new life for Christ.

If my boy, you would influence others to love and live for Christ you must do as the gifted young preacher Tyng exhorted his friends to do. He had met with an accident that cut short his glorious career. When about to die there gathered around him the young men who had rallied at his trumpet call, and lifting his wounded arm, he said, “Young men, I am about to die. Stand up for Jesus.” The sentence rang out on the air and did not cease ringing. It was printed in large capital letters, placarded in church vestries in many denominations, and became the rallying cry of thousands. My boy, stand up for Jesus;

Love is the root of creation; God’s essence.—Longfellow.

Love! what things are wrapped up in this word. Joy is love exulting. Peace is love in repose. Long suffering is love untiring. Gentleness is love enduring. Temperance is love in training. Meekness is love under discipline. Goodness is love in action. Therefore my boy be loving, for “not to know love is not to live.”

It has been well said that the three elements of manliness are love, principle and courage. Every boy knows that without the two latter he cannot succeed. But boys are too apt to think that to “be loving” belongs to girls. Analyze a great man’s character and you will find love is the main-spring of his action. To be loving and lovable will give him a stamp which will pass current the world over.

It is related of the Apostle John that when old and feeble he was borne by his disciples to the House of God, where, spreading his hands, he addressed the people again and again: “Love one another.” (1 John 4:7). When asked why he repeated it so often, he answered: “Because there is nothing else, attain that and you have enough.”

Love is the greatest thing in the world, the pivot on which the commandments turn, the pillar of the Christian religion and the keystone in the arch of our salvation. It is a height without top, depth without bottom, and length and breadth without boundary. It will not yield to bribes or threats, cannot be burnt by fire, submerged by billows or restrained by castle bars, but shines in patriotism, bleeds in sacrifice and dies in atonement.

To define love is impossible. It cannot be framed in sentences. Language is inadequate to express the feelings prompted by it. No philosopher can explain its whens, whys and wherefores. No geologist can unearth its footprints. No rhetorician can find a fit garb to clothe it. Artists cannot sketch it, scribes cannot pen it, nor can death destroy it.

THE LAW OF LOVE, THE RULE OF LIFE.

Love is a social virtue, “the soul of life.” It is the underlying principle of voluntary associations and is the governing force of action. In its relation to etiquette it is courtesy, “Love doth not behave itself unseemly.” (1 Cor. 13:5). Politeness has been defined as love in trifles, courtesy as love in little things. In social standing it is another word for a real gentleman. “Gentleman” has been defined as a man who does things gently, with love. In its relation to God it is self-sacrifice. “To be great-hearted, for the love we bear to our Master, and in imitation of Him, is ideal Christianity, for it is the religion of Him whose life and death were self-sacrifice.” Such love lightens the burdens of other lives, sweetens their toils and imparts music with every step. Such love begets love. It knows no discouragements and what it does is done gratuitously. To love thus is to live. Said Phillips Brooks, “Duty makes us do things well, but love makes us do them beautifully.”

When the noted Dr. George Shrady went on a vacation in the mountains he left orders not to be called to do professional work on any account. While resting in a hammock a barefoot boy accompanied by his grandmother came to him. “I could not keep him away, doctor,” said the aged woman, “he heard that you were here, that you were the greatest doctor in the whole world. He said that you could cure him and make him like other boys. I told him he had no money and could not come; that you would not bother with him, but he said he knew you would cure him. So here he is, sir.” The doctor, moved by his simple faith, helplessness, poverty and rags, prescribed for him. He gave him two weeks of careful treatment, at the end of which he was able to romp in the fields strong and well. When Thanksgiving came, the Doctor received by express a rude box. On opening it, he found a large turkey to which a card was attached with the words: “Dear Doctor: Here is a nice fat turkey for you. It’s the best I could send. I love you for your love to me.” The gift and message imparted a new feature in the doctor’s life. He saw rising above honor, riches or reputation, love, the summum bonum, the greatest thing in the world.

WHOM TO LOVE.

By creation and birth, we are members of one common family, and are under obligations to feel and care for each other. This principle is like a cord binding heart to heart. Where it exists it proves itself by the fruit it bears. “They do not love who do not show their love.” Love is often blind to faults and failings. “Love suffereth long and is kind.” (1 Cor. 13:4). While in battle Alexander the Great received a cut in the forehead, which left an ugly scar. Years after an eminent artist was requested to paint his portrait, but did not wish to show the scar. In order to make a perfect likeness and hide the deformity, he sketched the emperor leaning on his elbow, with his forefinger on his brow, thus covering the defect. So love, in tone, word, look and gesture, often “hideth a multitude of sins.” (James 5:20).

Love God. This should be the greatest aim of life. “God is love,” (1 John 4:8), and He commended “His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Rom. 5:8). During the reign of terror in France a young man named Loizerolles was condemned to death. His aged father would not allow himself to be separated from his son, but accompanied him to prison. When the jailor a few days later presented himself at the door and called out the names of those who were to be executed, this aged man answered for his son who was asleep, and was led away to the scaffold. As that father gave his life for his son, Jesus gave His life that every boy should have life everlasting. For this consideration, should He not receive our love? Should we not love Him as He demands “with all the heart, and with all the soul, and with all the mind, and with all the strength?” (Mark 12:30).

Love your parents. Great is the love and many the sacrifices made by them for a child. From early morning till late at night they plan and labor for his welfare. Is it any more than right that he love them in return? To be disrespectful and ungrateful is to invite and incur God’s displeasure, but to be loving and dutiful is to gain heaven’s approval and increased parental affection. Filial reverence is one of the best evidences of a loving heart, and he who loves God loves his parents.

Love your enemies. No counsel need be given to love one’s friends, for friendship indicates love. To love an enemy seems hard, but it can be done, and nothing so changes enmity into friendship as love. Love cannot confine itself to the bosom that cherishes it. It must reveal itself in deeds of kindness. During the Revolutionary War, a Dunkard leader named Miller was grievously insulted by a man named Widman, who was afterwards sentenced to be hung as a British spy. Miller went a long distance to petition Washington to spare his life. The commander-in-chief said: “I would like to release Widman, because he is your friend; but I cannot, even for that consideration.” “Friend!” cried Miller, “why, he’s my worst enemy, and therefore I want to save him.”

Love everybody. “Beloved,” said John, “if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.” (1 John 4:11). It is not a question of color, education or social position, but the relationship God has made between us. “And hath made of one blood all nations of men, for to dwell on all the face of the earth.” (Acts 17:26). One of the hieroglyphics of Egypt represents a child with a heart in his hand giving honey to a bee that has no wings with which to fly from flower to flower in quest of honey. The child represents the humility of love, the heart cheerfulness of love, and the giving of honey to the wingless bee the helplessness and worthiness of the object of love. The opportunity to exemplify love in its various forms comes often. Go, my boy, through life scattering flowers in everyone’s pathway. Encourage the struggling, anoint the suffering, assist the needy, and you will break open barred hearts, melt into moral pliability iron wills and lead souls to Christ.

DID I DO MY BEST?

Years ago at Evanston a young man was preparing for the ministry. He was the room-mate of the eloquent Dr. Spencer of the Methodist Episcopal church. He was a frail lad, but a good swimmer. It was his delight to give exhibitions of his skill in the boisterous lake. One night, ten miles out, a steamer with four hundred passengers was wrecked. Next morning all was excitement in the village. Two hundred men volunteered for service, among them this young man. A rope was put around his waist, that his frail body might be recovered should he be killed by the floating pieces of wreckage. Backward and forward he went for six hours, helping to save human life. Through his great familiarity with the surf he was enabled to do more than all the rest together. Out of four hundred passengers, only thirty came through the breakers alive, and of these, seventeen were saved by this youth. Between his journeys he stood before a blazing fire, covered with blankets. But each time an unfortunate one came near the breakers, he threw off his incumbrances and plunged again into the water. At first he wore the rope around his arm, but, coming to a piece of debris to which a drowning person was clinging, the wreckage struck him in the face. The crowd on shore, alarmed for his safety, commenced pulling in the line prematurely, before he had laid hold of the drowning person. Throwing off the rope, he clutched the man and brought him safely ashore. Walking up the beach, he saw a gentleman sitting in an elegant carriage, who had evidently come to the beach with his coachman from his suburban home, and going to him said: “These people have almost killed me and another accident may take my life without my having done my work. Will you consent to manage the rope, not allowing the people to pull until I give the signal? If you do this, you shall have half of the credit for anything I may be able to do.” The gentleman consented, and for five hours managed the rope. The last person saved that day was a man who was coming ashore in a difficult part of the surf, where the bank was high and precipitous. Those who came to this part of the surf were absolutely lost, as it seemed more than a man’s life was worth to save them. This youth saw this man clinging to a piece of wreck while with the other he held a bundle.

A sudden lift of the waves brought the man and the raft into full view, and there streamed out from the bundle a tress of hair. “Cost what it may, I will save that man or die in the attempt,” said he, “he is trying to save his wife.” He ran down the beach, following the retreating wave, kept down as closely as possible to the sand, and let the return wave pound him. When next seen, he was far out in the water. He swam to the piece of raft to which the two were clinging. When within six or eight feet of them, the man cried out: “Save my wife! save my wife!” The brave swimmer said: “Yes, I’ll save your wife and you also.” Fastening his hands in their clothing at the back of their necks, he said: “I can sustain you in the water, but you must swim for your lives and mine. We must push northward to get beyond this dangerous surf, if we are to be saved at all.” To the joy of the spectators, he came safely to shore with both unfortunates, for whom he had so bravely imperilled his life. Into that one day he put the struggle of his life. Finally he collapsed and was put to bed. As his room-mate ministered to him, he looked up and said, “Did I do my best? Did I do my best?” Yes, he did his best as true love always does. There is no journey too long, no effort too hard, no suffering too intense, no sacrifice too great for it to make. As with this youth, so may it be with your—

THE DURATION OF LOVE.

Love is eternal. All else shall fail, but “Love never faileth.” (1 Cor. 13:8). Wendell Phillips sang of a past golden age, and told in silvery eloquence of things now lost. Lost the instruments for lifting the pyramidal stones to their place. Lost the secret of annealing glass, and Tyrian colors undimmed by centuries. Lost the art of making the Damascus blade, whose elasticity would permit the point and hilt to kiss each other. Lost the ancient races of Israel, ancient cities, ancient books, ancient languages, but love still remains.

So great are our mental powers that we can conceive of the time according to scientific enumeration and declaration when the oil wells of the world shall cease, when all the precious metals shall have been dug and coined, when the sun shall have burnt out, yes, and by the transforming power of the coming Christ, the faith of Christians shall be changed into sight and hope blossom into fruition. Then, even then, love shall forever exist.

Cultivate love, my boy. “Men will not bow down to crowned power, or philosophic power, or æsthetic power, but in the presence of a great soul filled with vigor of inspiration and glowing with love man will do obeisance.” Frank Bragg was only fifteen years of age when he lay dying in Paducah hospital. He had fought as one of Birge’s sharpshooters. As the dew of death gathered on his brow, he said, “O, I’m going to die, and there is no one to love me.” The nurse told him that he had many friends and that God loved him. “Yes,” said he, “I am not afraid to die, but I want someone to love me.” “Frank,” said the nurse, “I love you.” She kissed his pale forehead. “Kiss me again,” he said, “that was given so like my sister.”

Did you ever think how many struggling hearts, sinful hearts, disconsolate hearts are saying: “No one loves me?” It remains with you, my boy, to sweeten many a bitter cup, cast sunshine into many a darkened soul, extract the thorn of anguish from many a sad heart, and make life worth living by expressing what John Waterhouse and David Cargill did to the cannibals of the Fiji Islands: “My love to you.” Love in Jesus Christ, for love is the—