But it is only those who learn the lesson of humility that Jesus will dwell with. He says himself, "If any man love me, he will keep my words; and My Father will love him; and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." St. John xiv: 23. And among the words of Christ which we must keep, if we wish him to dwell in our hearts, are those in which he commands the lesson of humility. It is only the humble with whom he will dwell. For "every one that is proud in heart is an abomination unto the Lord." Prov. xvi: 5.
The reason why so many people are unhappy in this world is that they do not learn the lesson of humility.
"Learn to Stoop." The story is told of some celebrated man—I think it was Dr. Franklin—who had a friend visiting him on one occasion. When the gentleman was about to leave, the doctor accompanied him to the front door. In going through the entry there was a low beam across it, which made it necessary to stoop, in order to avoid being struck by it. As they approached it the doctor stooped himself, and called out to his friend to do the same. He did not heed the caution, and received a severe thump on his head as the result of his neglect. In bidding him good-bye, the doctor said—"Learn to stoop, my friend; and it will save you from many a hard knock, as you go on through life." This illustrates the comfort which comes from learning the lesson of humility. It is those who are unwilling to stoop; or to be anything, or nothing, as God wants them to be, who have no comfort.
"The Fable of the Oak and the Violet." In a large garden there grew a fine oak tree, with its wide-spreading branches, and at its foot there grew a sweet and modest violet. The oak one day looked down in scorn upon the violet, and said: "You, poor little thing, will soon be dead and withered; for you have no strength, no size, and are of no good to anyone. But I am large and strong; I shall still live for ages, and then I shall be made into a large ship to sail on the ocean, or into coffins to hold the dust of princes."
"Yes," answered the violet, in its humility, "God has given you strength, and me sweetness. I offer him back my fragrance, and am thankful. I hope to die fragrantly, as I have lived fragrantly, but we are both only what God made us, and both where God placed us."
Not long after the oak was struck by lightning and shivered to splinters. Its end was to be burned. But the violet was gently gathered by the hand of a Christian lady, who carefully pressed it, and kept it for years, in the leaves of her Bible to refresh herself with its fragrance. Here we see illustrated the difference between pride and humility.
"The Secret of Comfort." Some years ago there was a boy who had been lame from his birth. He was a bright intelligent boy, but he was not a Christian. As he grew up, with no other prospect before him but that of being a cripple all his days, he was very unhappy. As he sat by his window, propped up in his chair, and saw the boys playing in the street, he would say to himself: "Why has God made me thus? Why have I not limbs to run and jump with like other boys?"
These thoughts filled him with distress, and caused him to shed many bitter tears.
One day a Christian friend, who was visiting him, gave him a book and requested him to read it. He did so; and it led to his becoming a Christian. His heart was renewed; the burden of his sin was removed; and the love of God was shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost. He learned the lesson of humble submission to the will of God. After this, as he looked out, and saw the young people happy at their sports; or, as he gazed on the green earth and the beautiful sky, and knew that he must remain a helpless cripple as long as he lived, he yet could say, with the utmost cheerfulness:—"It's all right. My Father in heaven has done it. I love him. He loves me. I know he is making all things work together for my good." He had learned the lesson we are now considering, and we see what comfort it gave him. And the thought of the comfort which this lesson gives, should be a good reason with us all for learning it.
A fourth reason why we should learn the lesson of humility is because of the—USEFULNESS—connected with it.
Jesus tells us, by his apostle, that "God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble." St. James iv: 6. If we have the grace of God we can be useful in many ways, but, without that grace we cannot be useful at all. And this is what our Saviour taught his disciples, when he said to them—"without me ye can do nothing." St. John xv: 5. By the words "without me" he meant without my help, or without my grace; or without the help of my grace. And it was of this grace that St. Paul was speaking when he said—"I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me." Phil, iv: 13.
And we could not possibly have a stronger reason for trying to learn the lesson of humility than this, that our receiving the grace of God, and consequently our usefulness, depends upon it. God will not give us his grace to enable us to be truly good and to make ourselves useful, unless we learn this lesson. And unless we have the grace of God, we cannot be useful. Like barren fig-trees we shall be useless cumberers of the ground.
Now let us look at one or two illustrations which show us how pride hinders the usefulness of men, while humility helps it.
"The Fisherman's Mistake." An English gentleman was spending his summer holidays in Scotland. He concluded to try his hand at fishing for trout in one of the neighboring streams. He bought one of the handsomest fishing rods he could find, with line and reel, and artificial flies, and everything necessary to make a perfect outfit for a fisherman. He went to the trout stream, and toiled all day, but never caught a single fish.
Towards the close of the day he saw a ragged little farmer boy, with a bean pole for a rod, and the simplest possible sort of a line, who was nipping the fish out of the water about as fast as he could throw his line in. He watched the boy in amazement for awhile, and then asked him how it was that one, with so fine a rod and line, could catch no fish, while he with his poor outfit was catching so many. The boy's prompt reply was:—"Ye'll no catch ony fish Sir, as lang as ye dinna keep yersel' oot o' sicht."
The gentleman was proud of his handsome rod and line, and was showing it off all the time. His pride hindered his usefulness as a fisherman. The farmer's boy had nothing to show off; so he kept himself out of sight, and thus his humility helped his usefulness in fishing.
"The Thames' Tunnel Teaching Humility." Most strangers who visit the great city of London go to see the famous tunnel under the river Thames. This is a large, substantial road that has been built, in the form of an arch, directly under the bed of the river. It is one of the most wonderful works that human skill ever succeeded in making. The man who planned and built it was made one of the nobility of England. His name was Sir Isambard Brunel. He was so humble that he was willing to learn a lesson from a tiny little ship worm. These worms bore small round holes through the solid timbers of our ships.
One day Mr. Brunel visited a ship-yard. An old ship was on the dry-dock getting repaired. A quantity of worm-eaten timber had been taken out from her sides. He picked up one of these pieces of timber, and saw a worm at work, boring its way through. If he had been a proud man, he might have thrown the timber aside, and said—"Get away you poor little worm. I am a great master builder. You can't teach me anything." And if he had done so that famous tunnel under the Thames would probably never have been built. But Mr. Brunel had learned the lesson of humility. He was willing to learn from anything that God had made, however insignificant it might be. So he sat down and watched the worm at its work. He studied carefully the form of the hole it was boring. The thought occurred to him how strong a tunnel would be, that was made in the shape of this hole! And when he was asked whether it would be possible to build a tunnel under the Thames, he said he thought it could be done. He undertook to build it. He succeeded in the work. But, in accomplishing the great undertaking that little ship-worm was his teacher.
And now, if any of my young friends who may read this book should ever visit London, and go to see the great tunnel, as they gaze in wonder at it, let them remember Sir I. Brunel, and that little ship-worm; and then, let them say to themselves: "This mighty tunnel is an illustration of the truth that humility helps to make us useful."
"George Washington and His Humility." Here is a story connected with the great and good Washington—"the Father of his country," which illustrates very well this part of our subject.
During the war of the American Revolution, the commander of a little squad of soldiers was superintending their operations as they were trying to raise a heavy piece of timber to the top of some military works which they were engaged in repairing. It was hard work to get the timber up, and so the commander, who was a proud man and thought himself of great importance, kept calling out to them from time to time, "Push away, boys! There she goes! Heave ho!"
While this was going on, an officer on horseback, but not in military dress, rode by. He asked the commander why he did not take hold, and give the men a little help. He looked at the stranger in great astonishment, and then, with all the pride of an emperor, said:
"Sir, I'd have you know that I am a corporal!"
"You are—are you?" replied the officer, "I was not aware of that," and then taking off his hat, and making a low bow, said, "I ask your pardon Mr. Corporal."
After this he got off his horse, and throwing aside his coat, he took hold and helped the men at their work till they got the timber into its place. By this time the perspiration stood in drops upon his forehead. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. Then turning to the commander he said:
"Mr. Corporal, when you have another such job on hand, and have not men enough to do it, send for your Commander-in-chief, and I will come and help you again."
It was General Washington who did and said this. The Corporal was thunderstruck! The great Washington, though honored above all men on the continent, was humble enough to put his hand and shoulder to the timber, that he might help the humblest of his soldiers, who were struggling for the defence of their country, to bear the burdens appointed to them.
This is an excellent illustration of the truth we are now considering. And certainly we should all try to learn the lesson of humility which Jesus taught, when we see how it helps to make us useful.
And then there is one other reason why we should learn this lesson, and that is because of the—BLESSING—that attends it.
Mary, the Mother of Jesus, in her noble song about the birth of her wonderful Son, said that God "filleth the hungry with good things, and sendeth the rich empty away." By the "hungry" she meant the humble and by the "rich" the proud. And the "good things" with which God fills them mean the blessings He bestows on the humble. Our Saviour taught the same truth when he said, "he that humbleth himself shall be exalted." Luke xiv: 11. Being exalted here means being honored and blessed. These passages teach very clearly the truth of which we are now speaking. They show us that we must learn the lesson of humility if we hope to have God's blessing rest upon us. And it is not more true that two and two make four, than it is that God's blessing does attend and follow those who learn the lesson of humility.
How many illustrations of this truth we find in the Bible! Moses had learned the lesson of humility before God sent him on his great mission, which has given him a name and a place among the most famous men of the world.
Gideon had learned the lesson of humility before God made choice of him to be the deliverer of his people Israel from the hands of their enemies; and then, for years to be their honored ruler. John the Baptist was so humble that he said of himself that he was not worthy to stoop down and unloose the latchet of our Saviour's shoe; and yet Jesus said of him that he was one of the greatest men that ever had been born.
The apostle Paul was so humble that he considered himself "less than the least of all saints," and "the chief of sinners;" and yet God honored and blessed him till he became the most famous and useful of all the apostles.
If we turn from the Bible, and look out into the world around us, we may compare proud people to the tops of the mountains; these are bare and barren, and of little use to the world. We may compare humble people to the plains and valleys. These are fertile and beautiful, and are the greatest blessing to the world, in the abundance of grain, and fruit, and other good things which they yield.
And then, if we take notice of what is occurring in the scenes of daily life, we shall meet with incidents continually which furnish us with illustrations of the part of our subject now before us, that God crowns the humble with his blessing. Let us look at one or two of these illustrations.
"The Little Loaf." In a certain part of Germany, some years ago, a famine was prevailing, and many of the people were suffering from hunger. A kind-hearted rich man sent for twenty of the poorest children in the village where he lived, to come to his house. As they stood on the porch of his house, he came out to them bringing a large basket in his hand. He set it down before him and said: "Children, in this basket there is bread for you all. Take a loaf, each of you, and come back every day at this hour, till it shall please God to send us better times."
Then he left the children to themselves and went into the house, but watched them through the window. The hungry children seized the basket, quarreled and struggled for the bread, because each of them wished to get the best and largest loaf. Then they went away without ever thanking the good gentleman for his kindness.
But one little girl, named Gretchen, poorly but neatly dressed, remained, humbly standing by, till the rest were gone. Then she took the last loaf left in the basket, the smallest of the lot. She looked up to the window where the gentleman stood; smiled at him; threw him a kiss, and made a low curtsey in token of her gratitude, and then went quickly home.
The next day the other children were just as ill-behaved as they had been before, and the timid humble Gretchen received a loaf this time not more than half the size of the one she had on the previous day. But when she came home, and her poor sick mother cut the loaf open, a number of new silver pieces of money, fell rattling and shining out of it.
Her mother was frightened, and said, "Take the money back at once to the good gentleman; for it must certainly have dropped into the dough by accident. Be quick Gretchen! be quick!"
But when the little girl came to the good man and gave him her mother's message, he kindly said, "No, no, my child, it was no mistake. I had the silver pieces put into the smallest loaf as a reward for you. Continue to be as humble, peaceable, self-denying, and grateful as you have now shown yourself to be. A little girl who is humble enough to take the smallest loaf rather than quarrel for the larger ones, will be sure to receive greater blessings from God than if she had silver pieces of money baked in every loaf of bread she ate. Go home now, and greet your good mother very kindly for me." Here we see how God's blessing attends the humble.
"Humility Proving a Blessing." Some time ago a young man went into the office of one of the largest dry-goods houses in New York and asked for a situation. He was told to call again another day.
Going down Broadway that same afternoon, when opposite the Astor House, he saw an old apple woman, in trying to cross the street, struck by an omnibus, knocked down, and her basket of apples sent scattering into the gutter.
The young man stepped out of the crowd, helped the old woman to her feet, put her apples into her basket, and went on his way, without thinking of it.
Now a proud man would never have thought of doing such a thing as that. But this young man had learned the lesson of humility, and did not hesitate a moment to do this kind act.
When he called again to see about the situation, he was asked what wages he expected.
He stated what he thought would be right. His proposal was accepted. The situation was given him, and he went to work.
About a year afterwards, his employer took him aside one day, reminded him of the incident about the old apple woman; told him he was passing at the time, and saw it; and that it was this circumstance which induced him to offer the vacant situation to him, in preference to a hundred others who were applying for it.
Here we see what a blessing this young man's humility proved to him!
And thus we see that there are five good reasons why we should learn the lesson of humility. These are the command of Christ; the example of Christ; the comfort that humility gives; the usefulness to which it leads; and the blessing that attends it.
The first verse of the hymn we often sing contains a very suitable prayer to offer when we think of the lesson of humility we have now been considering:
If, when Jesus was here on earth, he had shown a great interest in kings, and princes, in rich, and wise, and great men, it would not have been surprising; because he was a king and a prince, himself; he was richer than the richest, and wiser than the wisest, and greater than the greatest. But he did not do this. He took no particular notice of them; but he showed the greatest possible interest in children. When mothers brought their little ones to him, the disciples wanted to keep them away. They thought, no doubt, that he was too busy to take any notice of them. But they were mistaken. He was very busy indeed. He had many lessons to teach. He had sermons to preach; and sick people to heal; and blind eyes to open; and deaf ears to unstop; and lame men to make whole; and dead men to raise to life again. He had all his Father's will to make known to men; and all his Father's commandments to keep. He had to suffer, and to die for the sins of the world; that he might "open the kingdom of heaven to all believers." He was the busiest man that ever lived. Nobody ever had so much to do as he had. And yet, he was not too busy to attend to the little children. He had time to give to them. So he rebuked his disciples for trying to keep the children away from him. He told the mothers to bring them near. They did so. And then, one by one, "he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them and blessed them." And when he had done this, as though that were not enough, he spoke those precious, glorious, golden words:—"Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven," "verily I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein."
These things are told us by three of the evangelists. St. Matthew mentions them in chapter xix: 13-15. St. Mark x: 13-16, and St. Luke xviii: 15-17.
On another occasion, when he was in the temple, the children sang hosannas to him as the son of David. The chief priests and scribes were greatly displeased, when they heard it, and "said unto him, hearest thou what these say? and Jesus said unto them, yea: have ye never read, out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise?" Matt, xxi: 15, 16. Here he quoted from the Old Testament (Ps. viii: 2) to prove to them from their own scriptures, that God loves little children, and delights to have them engage in his service, and sing his praises.
And there was one other occasion on which Jesus spoke about the children, and showed his interest in them. This was after his resurrection. We read about it in St. John xxi: 15-18. He met his disciples, one day, on the shore of the sea of Galilee. Peter, who had shamefully denied his Master on the night in which he was betrayed was present with them. Jesus said to him, as if to remind him of his great sin, "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" "Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee," said the penitent disciple. "Feed my lambs," was his Master's reply. Here again, how beautifully Jesus showed his great love for the little ones of his flock!
From these different passages, we see clearly how dear little children are to the heart of our blessed Saviour! He is the only great Teacher who ever showed such an interest in children. And the religion of Jesus is the only religion which teaches its followers to love and care for the little ones. The worshipers of the idol Moloch, mentioned in the Bible, used to offer their children as burnt-sacrifices to their cruel god. Mahometans look upon their women and children as inferior beings. The Hindoos neglect their infants, and leave them exposed on the banks of the Ganges, or throw them into the river to be devoured by the hungry crocodiles. In the city of Pekin many infants are thrown out into the streets every night. Sometimes they are killed by the fall. Sometimes they are only half killed, and linger, moaning in their agony, till the morning. Then the police go around, and pick them up, and throw them all together into a hole and bury them.
In Africa, the children are sometimes buried alive; and sometimes left out in the fields or forests for the wild beasts to devour them. In the South Sea Islands three-fourths of all the children born used to be killed. Sometimes they would strangle their babies. Sometimes they would leave them, where oxen and cattle would tread on them, and trample them to death; while, at other times, they would break all their joints, beginning with their fingers and toes, and then go on to their wrists, and elbows, and shoulders. How dreadful it is to think of such practices! And when we turn from these scenes of heart-rending cruelty and think of the gracious Saviour,—the "gentle Jesus, meek and mild," stretching forth his arms in loving tenderness, and uttering the sweet words,—"Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God,"—what a wonderful contrast it makes!
And when we think of all that Jesus did and said to show his interest in children, we may well ask ourselves such questions as these,—Why was it so? What did he do it for? And when we come to look carefully into this part of the life of Christ, we can see four great things in it; and these are the reasons why Jesus did and said so much about children.
In the first place we see—GREAT LOVE—in the interest Christ manifested towards the young.
It was the same love which brought him down from heaven, and made him willing to become a little child himself; the same love which made him willing to live in poverty—and suffer the dreadful death upon the cross that led him to show such interest in the little ones. But if he had not told us himself how he feels on this subject, we could not have been sure of it. Children might well have said, when they heard about the love of Christ, "Yes, we have no doubt that Jesus does love grown up people, men and women in general. We believe this because the Bible tells us so; but how do we know that he loves us children?" If he had not told us so himself, we could not have been sure of it. But we know it now. And when we hear, or read of the love of Christ, we may be sure that it takes the children in.
During a famine in Germany, a family became so poor that they were in danger of starving. The father proposed that one of the children should be sold, and food provided for those that remained. At last the mother consented; but then the question arose which one of the four should be selected. The eldest, their first-born, could not be spared; the second looked like the mother, the third was like his father, and they could not give either of them up; and then the youngest—why, he was their pet, their darling, how could they give him up? So they concluded that they would all perish together, rather than part with one of their little ones. When those children knew of this, they might very well feel sure that their parents loved them. But Jesus did more than this for us, he was willing to die upon the cross, and he did so die, that "not one of his little ones should perish."
"Being Loved Back Again." Little Alice Lee sat in her rocking chair. She was clasping a beautiful wax doll to her bosom, and singing sweet lullabies to it. But every little while she looked wistfully at her mother. She was busy writing, and had told Alice to keep as quiet as possible till she got through.
It seemed a long time to Alice; but after awhile her mother laid down her pen, and pushed aside her papers, and said:—"Now I am through for to-day, Alice, and you can make as much noise as you please."
In a moment Alice laid down her doll, and running to her mother, threw her arms round her neck, and nestled sweetly in her loving bosom.
"I'm so glad," said Alice, "I wanted to love you so much, mamma."
"Did you, darling?" and the mother clasped the little one tenderly in her arms. "I am very glad that my little girl loves me;" replied her mother, "but I thought you were not very lonely while I was writing; you and dollie seemed to be having a good time together."
"Yes, we had, mamma; but I always get tired of loving dollie after awhile."
"Do you, dear? Tell me why?"
"O, because she never loves me back again."
"And is that why you love me?"
"That is one why, mamma; but not the first one, or the best one."
"And what is the first, and best?"
"Why, mamma, can't you guess?" and the little girl's blue eyes grew very bright, as they gazed earnestly into her mother's face. "It's because you loved me when I was too little to love you back; that's why I love you so."
And what a reason this is why we should love Jesus! He loved us when we were too little to love him back. The Bible says—"We love him because he first loved us." He loved us before we knew him, or had ever heard of him. He loved us before we were born. Before the world was made Jesus thought of you and me, and loved us. This is what he means when he says:—"I have loved thee with an everlasting love." Jer. xxxi: 3. This means a love that never had a beginning, and that will never have an end. This is very wonderful. And when we think of it, we may well sing out our thankfulness in the words of the hymn:
And when we think of all the kind words and actions of Jesus, by which he showed his interest in little children, the first thing that we see in them is—great love.
Now, let us take another look at this part of our Saviour's life, and the second thing that we see in it is—GREAT WISDOM.
It is wise to take care of the children and try to bring them to Jesus when young, because then they are easily controlled.
Suppose we plant an acorn in a corner of our garden. After awhile a green shoot springs out from it. We go to look at it when it is about a foot high. We find it getting crooked; but with the gentlest touch of thumb and finger, we can straighten it out. We wish it to lean in a particular direction. We give it a slight touch, and it leans just that way. Afterwards we conclude to have it lean in the opposite direction. Another slight touch, and it takes that direction. It is true, as the poet says, "Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined." But, suppose we let it grow for twenty or thirty years, and then come back to it. It is now a great oak tree. There is an ugly twist in its trunk. We try to straighten it out; but in vain. No power on earth can do that now. You can cut it down; or saw it up; or break it into splinters; but you cannot straighten it.
Suppose, that you and I should go to one of the highest summits of the Rocky Mountains. In a certain place there, we should find two little fountains springing up near each other. With the end of a finger we might trace the course in which either of those little springs should flow. We could lead one down the eastern side of the mountains, and the other down the western side. It would be very easy to control them then. But suppose now we travel down the side of the mountain till we reach the plain, at its base. Now see, yonder is a great river, rolling on its mighty flood of waters. That is what the little spring has grown to. It is too late to control it now. The time for controlling it was up yonder near the spring.
It is easy to control the spring; it is very hard to control the river. Jesus wished to control the spring when he directed us to bring the children to him. And in this he showed his wisdom.
It is wise to take an interest in children, and bring them early to Jesus—because they have great influence in the world.
Who can tell the influence that children are exerting in the world? We have an illustration of this in the words that were once spoken by Themistocles, the celebrated Grecian governor and general. He had a little boy, of whom his mother was very fond and over whom the child had very great influence. His father pointed to him, one day, and said to a friend, "Look at that child; he has more power than all Greece. For the city of Athens rules Greece; I rule Athens; that child's mother rules me, and he rules his mother."
I feel sure our Saviour must have felt very much as some one has done, who writes in this way about
THE GOOD THAT CHILDREN DO.
And if children have so great an influence in the world it was wise in Jesus to desire to have them brought early to him that they might learn to use that influence in the best possible way.
And then it was wise in Jesus to desire this, again, because bringing children to him prevents great trouble, and secures great blessing.
We are all familiar with Dr. Watts' sweet hymn, which says:
"'Twill save us from a thousand snares
To mind religion young."
Here is a striking illustration of this truth in the history of:
"One Neglected Child." A good many years ago, in one of the upper counties of New York, there was a little girl named Margaret. She was not brought to Christ, but was turned out on the world to do as she pleased. She grew up to be perhaps the wickedest woman in that part of the country. She had a large family of children, who became about as wicked as herself; her descendants have been a plague and a curse to that county ever since. The records of that county show that two hundred of her descendants have been criminals. In a single generation of her descendants there were twenty children. Three of these died in infancy. Of the remaining seventeen, who lived to grow up, nine were sent to the state prison for great crimes; while all the others were found, from time to time, in the jails, the penitentiaries, or the almshouses. Nearly all the descendants of this woman were idiots, or drunkards, or paupers, or bad people, of the very worst character. That one neglected child thus cost the county in which she lived hundreds of thousands of dollars, besides the untold evil that followed from the bad examples of her descendants. How different the result would have been if this poor child had been brought to Jesus and made a Christian when she was young!
"The Result of Early Choice." Here is a short story of two boys, of the choice they made when young, and the different results that followed from that choice.
A minister of the gospel was preaching on one occasion to the convicts in the state prison of Connecticut. As he rose in the desk and looked around on the congregation, he saw a man there whose face seemed familiar to him. When the service was over he went to this man's cell, to have some conversation with him.
"I remember you very well, sir," said the prisoner. "We were boys in the same neighborhood; we went to the same school; sat beside each other on the same bench, and then my prospects were as bright as yours. But, at the age of fourteen, you made choice of the service of God, and became a Christian. I refused to come to Christ, but made choice of the world and sin. And now, you are a happy and honored minister of the gospel, while I am a wretched outcast. I have served ten years in this penitentiary and am to be a prisoner here for life."
Jesus knew what blessings would follow to those who were early brought to him, and we see that there was great wisdom in the words that he spake when he said—"Suffer the little children to come unto me."
In the next place there was—GREAT ENCOURAGEMENT—in what Jesus did and said about children.
If a company of boys or girls should try to get into the presence of a monarch, some great king, or emperor, they would find it a pretty hard thing to do. At the door of the palace they would meet with soldiers or servants, the guards of the queen or king. They would say to the children—"what do you want here?" And if the children should say, "Please sir, we wish to go into the palace and see the queen," the answer would be: "Go away; go away. The queen is too busy. She has no time to attend to little folks like you." And the children would have to go away without getting to see the queen.
But, Jesus is a greater king than any who ever sat upon an earthly throne. He has more to do than all the kings and queens in the world put together. And yet he never gave orders to the angels, or to any of his servants to keep the children away from him. On his great throne in yonder heavens he says still, what he said when he was on earth—"Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not." And he says this on purpose to encourage the children to come to him. And the thought that Jesus loves them and feels an interest in them has encouraged multitudes of little ones to seek him and serve him. Here are some illustrations of this:
"Learning to Love Jesus." "A little girl came to me one day," said a minister of the gospel, and said, "'Please sir, may I speak to you a minute?' I saw that she was in some trouble; so I took her kindly by the hand, and said, 'Certainly, my child. What do you wish to say?'
"'Please, sir,' said she, as her lip quivered and tears filled her eyes, 'it's a dreadful thing; but I don't love Jesus.'
"'And are you not going to love him?' I asked.
"'I don't know; but please sir, I want you to tell me how.' She spoke sadly, as if it was something she never could do.
"'Well,' I said, 'St. John, who loved our Lord almost more than any one else ever did, says that "we love him because he first loved us." Now if you go home to-night, saying in your heart, "Jesus loves me," I think that to-morrow you will be able to say—"I love Jesus."'
"She looked up through her tears, and repeated the words very softly, 'Jesus loves me.' She began to think about it on her way home, as well as to say it. She thought about his life, about his death on the cross, and about his sweet words to the little ones, and she began to feel it too.
"The next evening she came to see me again; and, putting both her hands in mine, with a bright happy face, she said:
"'Oh! please sir, I love Jesus now; for I know he does love me so!'"
Here was a little one encouraged to come to Jesus by thinking of the interest he feels in children.
"Doesn't He Love to Save?" A mother had just tucked her little boy in bed, and had received his good-night kisses. She lingered awhile, at his bedside, to speak to him about Jesus, and to see if he was feeling right toward him. He was a good, obedient boy, but that day he had done something that grieved his mother. He had expressed his sorrow for it, and asked his mother's forgiveness. As she stooped down for the last kiss, he said—"Is it all settled, mother?"
"Yes, my child," she said, "it's all settled with me; but have you settled it all with Jesus?" "Yes, mother: I've asked him to forgive me: and I believe him when he says he will; for doesn't he love to help and save children?" "He does, my child, he does," said his mother, as she gazed on his happy little face, lighted up with the joy of that gospel, so often hidden from the wise and prudent, but revealed to babes.
Here we see how this little fellow was encouraged to seek Jesus from the assurance that he feels an interest in children, and loves to help and bless them.
"Love Leads to Love." A little boy named Charley stood at the window with his mother one morning, watching the robins as they enjoyed their morning meal of cherries from the tree near their house. "Mother," said Charley, "How the birdies all love father."
"They do," said his mother, "but what do you suppose is the reason that the birdies love your father?"
This question seemed to set Charley to thinking. He did not answer at first, but presently he said, "Why mother all the creatures seem to love father. My dog is almost as glad to see him as to see me. Pussy, you know, always comes to him, and seems to know exactly what he is saying. Even the old cow follows him around the meadow, and the other day I saw her licking his hand, just as a dog would. I think it must be because father loves them. You know he will often get up and give pussy something to eat; and he pulls carrots for the cow, and pats her; and somehow I think his voice never sounds so sweet as when he is talking to these dumb creatures."
"I think his voice is very pleasant when he is talking to his little boy," said his mother.
Charley smiled, and said, "That's so, mother. Father loves me, and I love him dearly. But he loves the birdies too I am sure. He whistles to them every morning when they are eating their cherries, and they don't seem a bit afraid of him, although he is near enough to catch them. Mother I wish everything loved me as they do father."
"Do as father does, Charley, and they will. Love all things and be kind to them. Don't kick the dog, or speak roughly to him. Don't pull pussy's tail, nor chase the hens, nor try to frighten the cow. Never throw stones at the birds. Never hurt nor tease anything. Speak gently and lovingly to them and they will love you, and everybody that knows you will love you too."
Now Charley's father, in acting as he did, was trying to make all the dumb creatures about him know that he was their friend; that he loved them, and had nothing but kindness in his heart towards them. In this way he encouraged them to come to him, and not be afraid of him.
And this is just the way in which Jesus was acting when he did and said so much to show his interest in children. He wants them all to understand that he is their friend; that he loves them, and wants them to come to him and love and serve him. And so every child who hears or reads about Jesus may feel encouraged to say: