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Our Household Pet. 
 
 
J. HENDRICKSON M'CARTY, D. D., 
 
 Author of "Black Horse and Carryall." 
 
 A little child shall lead them. — Isaiah. 
 
 Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye 
 shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. — Jesus. 
 
 These are they which make poor men rich. — Bishop Hall. 
 
 'T was an angel visited the green earth, 
 And took the flowers away. — Longfellow. 
 
 
 CI NCI NNATI: 
 
 HITCHCOCK AND WALDEN. 
 
 NEW YORK: NELSON & PHILLIPS. 
 
 1876. 
 
p i4i 
 
 qO\ 
 
 wmmm 
 
 Due Um^nr 
 
 WASHTHGiFW 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876, by 
 
 HITCHCOCK & WALDEN, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
TO THE 
 
 ereauect Jfatljers w& jjjoiherS, 
 
 INTO 
 
 WHOSE HOMES, DURING A MINISTRY OF TWENTY YEARS, 
 
 THE AUTHOR 
 
 HAS BEEN CALLED TO SPEAK WORDS OF COMFORT AND IN- 
 STRUCTION IN THE HOURS OF DEEPEST SORROW; 
 
 AND 
 
 I" H e "* o ^v 
 
 OF THE DEAR CHILDREN SAFELY GARNERED FROM THE 
 HOMES OF PASTOR AND PEOPLE, 
 
 AND 
 
 IN TOKEN OF AFFECTIONATE REMEMBRANCE, 
 
 S>hi$ Volume 
 
 IS MOST TENDERLY INSCRIBED. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 HE author is indebted to a little 
 dying girl, not much over half a 
 dozen years old, for the title of this 
 book. The little sufferer was nearing the 
 gates of the Celestial City; her weeping 
 father sat by her bedside, holding the hand 
 of his dear child in his own, while his face 
 was wet with tears. In a moment of ease, 
 for she was a great sufferer, she looked up 
 into that tearful face and said : ' ' Papa, 
 do n't cry; I '11 be just inside the gates when 
 you come." 
 
 What could have been said more touchingly 
 beautiful than that? How full of cheer! How 
 
 full of comfort! 
 
 What stronger chain is there 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 to bind the heart of a stricken parent about the 
 gates of heaven than the knowledge that a dear 
 child is inside those gates? * 
 
 For the subject-matter of this book, he is 
 indebted to a sad, and yet joyful, experience. 
 He knows what it is to be "joyful in tribula- 
 tion." He writes about what he has felt, as 
 well as thought. 
 
 He and his companion have gone away four 
 times from the new-made grave of a sweet child. 
 And in this hard discipline they have learned 
 that in the most bewildering gloom a star may 
 yet shine out of the heavens to guide us on the 
 voyage of life, and that the blackest cloud which 
 ever hangs over mortal sky has a silver lining to 
 the eye of faith. They have mourned in their 
 Gethsemane, and they have rejoiced on their 
 Olivet. 
 
 There are those whose eyes may fall on 
 these lines, whose dear children stand at the 
 gates of "home, sweet home, ,, or who come 
 tripping over the pavement to meet them when 
 they return from places of toil or pleasure, who 
 
PREFACE. 7 
 
 have not been called to pass through the sor- 
 rows of bereavement. Still, they may read this 
 book, and be possibly all the better prepared 
 for the affliction when it does come. 
 
 The author has not forgotten that there are 
 other gates than those of the heavenly world to 
 be thought of. The Home> the Sunday-school, 
 and the Churchy are sacred inclosures. Here 
 are gates to be garlanded with beauty, and 
 guarded with care. 
 
 There are many homes in this world where 
 loving mothers preserve with religious care the 
 little "playthings" which the baby left, and 
 cherish sweet memories of the dear ones "gone 
 on before." To all such these pages offer in- 
 struction and comfort, w T ith w r hat success the 
 reader must be the judge. 
 
 Hoping, then, that what he has written may 
 serve in some degree to brighten the pathway 
 of others, and make them stronger to bear up 
 under the burdens of life; and that it may, 
 though it be in a small way, call more attention 
 to the child and its moral culture; and with a 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 sincere and earnest desire that both writer and 
 
 reader may become in heavenliness n asa little 
 
 child," — he sends this volume forth upon its 
 
 mission. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Jackson, Michigan, 1875. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I. Short and Simple Annals, 
 II. The Empty Crib, . 
 
 III. Sympathy, True and False, 
 
 IV. Child-Life, . 
 V. Child-Culture, 
 
 VI. The Spiritual Nursery, 
 VII. Children Saved, 
 VIII. Children Lost, 
 IX. Life and its Lessons, 
 X. Darkness and Light, . 
 XL The Silver Lining, . 
 XII. Our Immortal Future, 
 
 13 
 33 
 S3 
 75 
 99 
 121 
 
 139 
 163 
 189 
 207 
 229 
 245 
 
 -M^ 
 
 fe^ 
 
jllpjtji anb jlimjtfy %xtmk 
 
" There is no flock, however watched and tended, 
 But one dead lamb is there; 
 There is no fireside, howsoe'r defended, 
 
 But has one vacant chair. 
 The air is full of farewells to the dying, 
 
 And mourning for the dead ; 
 The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, 
 Will not be comforted." 
 
 " Had he lived and fallen (as who of us 
 Doth perfectly? and let him that is proud 
 Take heed lest he do fall), he would have been 
 A sadness to them in their aged hours. 
 But now he is an honor and delight, 
 A treasure of the memory, a joy 
 Unutterable; by the lone fireside 
 They never tire to speak his praise, and say 
 How, if he had been spared, he would have been 
 So great and good and noble." 
 
EADER, have you ever walked 
 slowly and thoughtfully through a 
 cemetery? I know you have. It 
 was, perchance, on a pleasant Summer 
 evening, before the twilight shadows had 
 fallen, when all was still and hushed, that 
 you wended your way amid the tomb- 
 stones, and thought of the dead. 
 
 These habitations of the dead are 
 every-where. Close beside every city, 
 village, and hamlet, filled with men and 
 women whose hearts are pulsating with 
 life and hope, there is the city of the 
 dead, where ' ' every tombstone we look upon in 
 this repository of past ages is both an enter- 
 tainment and a monitor." 
 
 As you walked there on that Summer even- 
 ing, and thought of the dead, and of the great 
 
 13 
 
14 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 hereafter, there came over your spirit a feeling 
 of inexpressible sadness. The scenes around 
 you became prophecies of your own dissolu- 
 tion. The thoughts of death came welling up 
 in your mind, and you said to yourself, "I, 
 too, must die." 
 
 But as you walked there, amid those marble 
 slabs and grassy mounds, where old and young, 
 poor and rich, friend and stranger, lay buried 
 together in that equality which the grave gives; 
 and as these solemn surroundings impressed 
 themselves upon you, did there not also come 
 to you a feeling of hope which sweetened the 
 sadness? Did not your thoughts bound 
 
 " From death's dark caverns, in the earth below, 
 To spheres where planets roll and comets glow ?" 
 
 And did you not look away from this world of 
 sin and anguish, labor and care, to that bright 
 world beyond the shadows of the grave, where 
 the soul shall have eternal rest? 
 
 There, on one tombstone, was a finger point- 
 ing upward, which told of the hope cherished 
 by some stricken heart. And again, on the 
 head-stone of a little grave was carved a lamb 
 or dove, symbol of innocence. Here, too, were 
 choice flowers, expressions of love, emblems of 
 the soul's immortality. As you strolled about 
 
SHORT AND SIMPLE ANNALS. 1 5 
 
 beneath the weeping willows, and read the epi- 
 taphs, and saw the emblems of hope and love, 
 you felt a strange drawing toward the better life 
 which lies just beyond the boundary of our 
 'present vision. 
 
 I am now going to beg a few moments of 
 your time, and ask you to take a walk with me 
 into a very small cemetery, comprising four 
 little graves. To me this is in one sense a sad 
 place, in another it is not. I am sad when I 
 think of the loss I have sustained ; but when I 
 remember the dear children, and think of their 
 bliss, I am glad. My heart has bled, my spirit 
 has reeled beneath successive blows ; I have 
 walked the way of sorrow with a bowed head; 
 still, I have not fainted nor fallen. In the midst 
 of all these afflictions my confidence has not 
 been shaken ; I have been able to say, ' ' Though 
 He slay me, yet will I trust in him." 
 
 We must look upon death and dying as one 
 of the necessary steps in our great life journey. 
 Death is not the end of being; it is rather the 
 beginning. As you and I stand by the graves 
 of our dear children, it is our privilege to feel 
 that they have been promoted. They have been 
 saved the hardships and turmoil of these slow- 
 rolling years of earth-life, and have commenced 
 on the higher plane of spiritual being. They 
 
1 6 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 have reached the Summer land, the land of 
 beauty and of song, 
 
 " Where fragrant flowers immortal bloom, 
 And joys supreme are given." 
 
 They are gone from us, but we shall meet them 
 again. Blessed thought ! As we sit by our 
 little graves, the curtain is lifted before the eye 
 of faith, and light comes streaming in upon us 
 from above. We forget the past, and look for- 
 ward to the meeting-time ; and there comes over 
 the spirit a sweet hope, that is like a beautiful 
 sunrise after a dark and perilous night. 
 
 But what means it that so many of our 
 world's population die in infancy? Go into any 
 cemetery and number the little graves, and you 
 will almost wonder what fatal scourge has swept 
 away the dear lambs from so many households. 
 What cruel Herod has murdered the innocents? 
 I can see no reason why a man who lives to be 
 seventy should not live to be a hundred, or even 
 five hundred years old. There is evidently a 
 reason for it in the mind of the great Father, 
 and a law against it. We know that people 
 sometimes "die of old age. " The human ma- 
 chine seems to wear out, and the spirit takes its 
 flight. I can not see why my children should 
 have died, why your sweet and promising child 
 must die. I only know that die they do, and 
 
SHORT AND SIMPLE ANNALS. 1J 
 
 die they will, till the end of time. Shield them 
 by day and by night, guard their clothing, their 
 food, and their habits ; and while good care may 
 preserve some, and thus decrease the ' ' death- 
 rate/' yet still they will die. The strong, 
 healthy, robust child will sicken in a day, and 
 another fresh mound will tell of sad hearts and 
 a desolate home, and of another beautiful spirit 
 redeemed and crowned in the everlasting king- 
 dom. I can only say that in that which is 
 so universal there must be some good. Happy 
 are they w T ho can look up and say, "Our 
 Father." 
 
 It is not for the purpose of obtruding my 
 personal griefs on the ear of a patient and con- 
 siderate public that I attempt to recount my 
 own sad experiences. This chapter is, at least 
 in part, exceptional, and I place it here as an 
 apology — rather, I should say, as the assignment 
 of a reason why I write on this subject. Per- 
 haps my affection gets the better of my judg- 
 ment. Still, I can not convince myself that I 
 ought to omit what follows. It seems fitting 
 that I should lay the foundation for what I have 
 to say in my own personal experience of sorrow ; 
 and, consequently, when I offer words of comfort 
 to others, they will know that I speak from the 
 same grounds where they have stood. 
 
1 8 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 It will not take you long to read these 
 "Short and Simple Annals," while it gives me 
 a peculiar pleasure to put these names in just 
 here. If you were passing by the place where 
 these little ones sleep, you would willingly pause 
 and read the names and the inscriptions on their 
 tombstones, as I have done many a time — names 
 even of strangers; and as I read I wondered 
 about the sorrowing hearts and the vacant 
 chairs, and tried to feel a deep, pure sympathy 
 for the . bereft. Then, you will please regard 
 this chapter as a little monument erected by a 
 stricken father to the memory of four dear 
 children — the fourth an adopted child — whose 
 departure to their upper home makes him at 
 times long to follow them. These little graves 
 are to me a border land, quite on the verge of 
 heaven. I sit there, this moment, in my imag- 
 ination feeling that I am not far from the king- 
 dom, and from those I love. 
 
 I do not believe in giving way to a grief that 
 will neither be solaced nor controlled; equally 
 do I not believe in a stoical creed which seeks 
 to banish from the heart its warmth, and robe 
 it in the chilliness of an iceberg. My sorrow 
 has not been greater than that which has come 
 upon thousands of others, perhaps not half so 
 great as that which has befallen many another 
 
SHORT AND SIMPLE ANNALS. 1 9 
 
 household; but still it has been great. I have 
 had my sorrow and my joy; the comfort I have 
 felt may comfort others. I cherish the warmest 
 love for children. All these considerations move 
 me to write. 
 
 The first born and first buried of my house- 
 hold was our little "Pet. " Just why we spon- 
 taneously called her so I can not tell, only that 
 she was a real pet in the family. All loved her, 
 all petted her, all enjoyed her childish compan- 
 ionship, all were interested in her baby prattle ; 
 and even grandpa, old and venerable, yielded to 
 the universal sentiment, and became her loyal 
 subject. She quite won his heart one day, by 
 looking up into his face, and with both hands 
 laying hold of his long, white beard. She drew 
 him down to her, or herself up to him, I 
 scarcely remember which; but ever afterward 
 she was "grandpa's pet. " 
 
 Now, I very well know that some staid, 
 sober, and solid kind of people would call all 
 this mere sentimentality, and regard it as posi- 
 tively unmanly and unwomanly to indulge in it. 
 But as an offset to what they may say or think, 
 I w r ould remark that whatever is so innocent, 
 and so productive of a better kind of feeling, 
 should be cultivated, for the fruit it yields in real 
 and substantial pleasure. 
 
20 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 Life is very short, our families are soon 
 broken, our dear friends are ever going from 
 us; so it should be our study to get out of life 
 all the joy we can. The truth is, one can not 
 afford to dispense with these " sweet amenities'' 
 of life. They cost so little, and yield such 
 golden harvests of comfort to the heart, that I 
 wonder why this great world is not richer in 
 them than it is. 
 
 Our "Pet" was known by no other name in 
 the whole circle of relationship. Years have 
 passed away since her sweet spirit winged its 
 way to heaven. The companions of her child- 
 hood have grown to maturity; but whenever I 
 meet them, though these long years have passed 
 away, they still carry in their recollection the 
 name of their playmate — they still talk to me of 
 "Pet. " It does me good to know that she is 
 remembered; it shows she did not live in vain. 
 "Pet," with us, did not mean a spoiled child. 
 The word, to our minds, expressed rather the 
 idea of fondness; with her it was only a name. 
 She came to us on the 12th of April, 1853, and 
 left us on the 21st of October, 1856. In her 
 baptism we named her Anna Emily. A little 
 tombstone in the cemetery at Twinsburg, Ohio, 
 my first pastoral charge, bears the name, and 
 beneath it the dust, of the dear departed child. 
 
SHORT AND SIMPLE ANNALS. 21 
 
 " Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew, 
 She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven." 
 
 She is safe "inside the gates." 
 
 That quiet and beautiful place is holy ground 
 to us; But let me tell you a little more of the 
 sad story. J. Espey came and went, but re- 
 mained with us a much shorter time than she 
 whose "little feet had climbed the golden stair." 
 He was born January 22, 1858, and died the 
 following August. It seemed as if he had just 
 called to make our acquaintance before speeding 
 on to his real home. His was a spirit destined not 
 for time, but for x eternity. Nearly a score of 
 years have passed since I pressed him to my 
 heart as my dear boy. He lingers in my mem- 
 ory yet as a sweet babe, full of romp and 
 frolic. I love to sit down quietly, and live 
 over those days again. It is like turning back 
 the pages of some charming book, to re-peruse 
 those passages, which pleased me most. I do 
 not wish to forget my boy. I can this moment 
 see him, as he used to sit on the floor, sur- 
 rounded by his toys. I can see him dropping 
 all when he heard my heavy step approaching; 
 and then he would look up into my face, and 
 plead so eloquently to be taken into my arms, 
 and carried to see the horse, or out into the 
 door-yard to see the birds and flowers. 
 
22 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 I can see him as he grew sick and pale and 
 thin, and as he lay in his crib with congestion 
 of the brain, slowly but surely coming under 
 the fatal touch of death. I well remember, 
 though long and busy years have passed since 
 then, the sad moment when the spirit left the 
 body, and the day when we laid him away to 
 sleep by the side of his little sister, our "Pet." 
 On the same tombstone in that rural cemetery 
 are the two names, which, though unknown to 
 the world, have a tender meaning to two strug- 
 gling mortals. He, too, is safe ' ' inside the gates. " 
 
 Then, again, while pastor of the Mathewson- 
 street Methodist Episcopal Church, in Provi- 
 dence, Rhode Island, our third child sickened 
 and died, and now lies entombed in Swan's 
 Point Cemetery, within sound of the beating 
 waves of Narragansett Bay. No more truly 
 delightful spot could be found on this round 
 earth for grave of child or man. He came to 
 us April I, 1863, and left us July 29th, of the 
 same year. We called him Joseph Mathewson, 
 after the Church of which I was pastor. His 
 little body knew no day free from pain. It 
 seemed such a mystery that a sweet, innocent 
 child should be made to suffer so much. He 
 expired in a terrible convulsion, which I had no 
 power to relieve. But I knew that death was 
 
SHORT AND SIMPLE ANNALS. 23 
 
 the portal which would admit him to the society 
 of those which had gone before. 
 
 " Three cherubs met upon the other shore." 
 
 He is mine, safe "inside the gates." 
 
 The years passed away, and 1870 found us 
 at Adrian, Michigan, one of the garden-spots of 
 the West. The church is one of the finest, the 
 society one of the largest. The parsonage was 
 roomy, and the grounds around were so inviting, 
 that I could not help thinking what a good home 
 we could offer to some one of the many little 
 waifs, thrown upon the world by adverse fate, 
 in need of a home. But there were other 
 rooms, larger than those of the parsonage, and 
 more beautiful, that were tenantless, and other 
 grounds than those surrounding it that had long 
 been unpressed by the feet of childhood. I 
 mean heart rooms, heart grounds. These rooms 
 were all ready for an occupant. Dark shadows 
 had fallen on those grounds, which the tripping 
 of little feet and the merry, ringing laugh of 
 childhood would dispel. 
 
 Home without children is not home, in its 
 highest, truest sense. In the early portion of 
 married life, people may be satisfied to live 
 alone, and enjoy each other's society, without 
 the additional care of children ; but there will 
 
24 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 come a time in the life of such a family when 
 the presence of children would be prized above 
 any other earthly blessing. To see two old 
 people living in the days of the "sere and 
 yellow leaf," without child or grandchild to 
 look to or lean upon, is a melancholy spectacle. 
 It is a terrible penalty to pay for the selfishness 
 of human nature. To see venerable people 
 surrounded by their own offspring, blessed with 
 children and children's children, is a beautiful 
 sight, and the Great Father intends this to be 
 the boon of most people. If death interposes, 
 it must be received as a "blessing in disguise." 
 But there are so many children born into the 
 world homeless, deserted by one or both par- 
 ents, or left orphans, that any who are deprived 
 by death of their own, or denied the blessing by 
 Providence, can yet find children to fill up the 
 gap. It would almost seem as if God took 
 some away to make room for others. 
 
 "But how can I love another person's 
 child?" is often asked. The experience of 
 most people who have tried the experiment 
 of adopting children is, that they can and do 
 love them, if they are lovable, as they would 
 their own. Reader, if you have a house, open 
 its doors to some poor child ; give it a home. 
 It will do you good, as well as the child. 
 
SHORT AND SIMPLE ANNALS. 25 
 
 At the time above mentioned, we felt a great 
 desire to adopt some poor child and give it a 
 home, and we so expressed ourselves to others. 
 Some said, You may get yourself into trouble; 
 you can not love it as your own. It may be- 
 come wayward — a heart-break to you. My 
 answer was, Life is a succession of risks and 
 ventures. Our own children have as much of 
 what divines call depravity in them as the chil- 
 dren of other people. When people marry, 
 they take risks; when men go into commercial 
 speculations, they assume risks. Every child 
 born has before it a life fraught with perchances. 
 I said, I am willing to try it. ' If the child I 
 take becomes wayward, it shall be no fault of 
 mine; it will be so from its innate tendencies — 
 and the chances will be in its favor if I take it ; for 
 I will throw around it the attractions "of a Chris- 
 tian home, and follow it with my prayers. And 
 who knows but I may thus "save a soul from 
 death, and hide a multitude of sins?" Perhaps 
 this is God's plan of making me useful to some 
 one of my fellow-mortals. The child we take, 
 through our influence and teachings, may grow 
 up to a beautiful manhood or womanhood, and 
 be a blessing to the world. Who can tell 
 what good may come to two lives by such 
 an act? 
 
26 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 Within a short space of time quite a number 
 of children were pointed out to me ; but among 
 them all I did not see any one that I could take 
 to my heart as I wished to do, and I did not 
 desire to bring into the family a dear child, and 
 then throw open only one room in the heart. 
 If I took one, it must have the whole heart. 
 All this may seem a little selfish, but I think it 
 is not. God has endowed us with certain tastes 
 which grow out of our individuality, that highest 
 quality of human nature. I am not to blame 
 for my tastes; so the child I might not prefer 
 might yet please some one else. I had my 
 ideal. Then I felt that love must be the su- 
 preme power in my home, and unless I loved 
 the child in a very true sense I could not do 
 justice by it. Providence favored me. 
 
 A friend called one day, with a bright, sweet, 
 little girl, three and a half years old, of good 
 parentage. The age suited me. She was young, 
 and would easily take root in this new home 
 soil. Her hair was golden — she was what they 
 call a blonde — her eyes were a light blue. Her 
 form was lithe and graceful. She called up 
 the memory of my own child, whom fifteen 
 years before I had buried. It did almost seem 
 as though my departed one had returned to me 
 again. The instant my eyes fell upon her I 
 
SHORT AND SIMPLE ANNALS. 2J 
 
 said, She meets my taste. In some way she 
 pleased me, and there was "love at first sight." 
 I need not record here the movements that fol- 
 lowed, only to say that on the 1st day of April, 
 1871, little Carrie became a member of our 
 family by adoption, and every room in the 
 heart-house was thrown wide open to her; all 
 the heart-grounds, as far as they could be, or 
 ought to be, were consecrated to her. The 
 Lord had taken away. Now he kindly gave, 
 and I felt that I had a new aim in life. I un- 
 consciously began to plan for Carrie. We lived 
 for her, and she became as dear to us as our 
 own lost babes. She seemed to have dropped 
 down upon us like a bird from the skies. Her 
 coming was as from heaven, and her presence 
 gave us a new lease of life. 
 
 I may say that in the adoption of a child 
 there may be — there was with me — the addi- 
 tional obligation growing out of that adoption. 
 Let people do what they will with their own 
 children, not much is said; but in the case of 
 adoption, how many there are who stand ready 
 to criticise and condemn every act, using their 
 influence to the injury of both parties in the 
 contract! So I felt always the great responsi- 
 bility resting upon me. I said, This is an 
 adopted child. 
 
28 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 Two years and a quarter passed away, years 
 of brightness and joy in the parsonage. The 
 walks, the drives, the evenings, the mornings, 
 the Summers, the Winters : O how much of 
 pure happiness there was crowded into that 
 brief time! But now, again, comes the sad 
 part. In the Summer of 1873, while enjoying 
 a vacation of a few weeks among friends in an- 
 other State — a trip taken largely in dear Carrie's 
 interest — she sickened and died. On Sunday, 
 July 6th, she complained of a severe pain in her 
 head. She grew rapidly worse, until I saw her 
 the victim of that usually fatal malady, cerebro- 
 spinal meningitis; and on the following Friday 
 evening, just as the sun was casting his setting 
 beams through the windows, the spirit of the 
 dear child went away from our sight. I care- 
 fully preserved the little body, brought it to our 
 home, and laid it away to rest in Oak Wood 
 Cemetery, near the edge of a steep bank, at 
 whose base flow the waters of the River Raisin. 
 I had gone as pastor to that same beautiful spot 
 more than threescore times, to care for others 
 who. had been called to part with their friends; 
 but now the arrow had struck me, and I was 
 bleeding from tire wound. But the words of 
 consolation I had so often tried to speak to 
 others came back to me now, and the Father 
 
SHORT AND SIMPLE ANNALS. 29 
 
 gave me the opportunity of practicing in my 
 own life what I had been preaching all these 
 years to others. 
 
 Little Carrie was a universal favorite. In 
 our frequent drives with the "Black Horse and 
 Carryall," her place was on the front seat. I 
 promised her, when she was sick, that when we 
 got home she should go riding in the carryall. 
 I did not think then that she would die; but I 
 made the promise good, as the reader will see 
 from the following brief extract, cut from a 
 local paper the day following the funeral. This 
 may have no special interest to others; but it 
 does a stricken heart good to tell the story, for 
 which I crave the reader's indulgence: 
 
 "A Sad Bereavement. — A very large congregation 
 assembled at the Broad-street Methodist Episcopal Church 
 yesterday, at four o'clock P. 1VL, to attend the funeral of 
 Carrie Estella, adopted daughter of Rev. J. H. M'Carty. 
 Little Carrie was an unusually bright child, and was be- 
 loved by all who knew her. Large numbers of children 
 were present to witness the services, and show their in- 
 terest in and love for Carrie. . .- . It was indeed a 
 beautiful and impressive service. The little casket, of 
 black walnut, trimmed with silver molding, was borne by 
 four boys of the Sunday-school, and drawn to the cem- 
 etery in the family carryall. Four little girls, dressed 
 in white, were seated, two on each side of the casket, 
 while a groom led the black horse which drew the sweet 
 child on her last ride. The pastor, with his wife and 
 child, left home a few weeks ago, under the most favor- 
 
30 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 able auspices, for a little vacation, and while with their 
 friends were thus sorely stricken." . . . 
 
 Her death was indeed a "sad bereavement' ' 
 to me. I had made no calculation for such an 
 event. But she was mine two and a quarter 
 years, and every day of these years she made 
 brighter. How glad I feel that she was ours so 
 long ! I felt very grateful to my Heavenly 
 Father for such a blessing. Years may pass 
 away, but the name and memory of Carrie, and 
 of my other dear children, will never pass away 
 from the recollection. Amid earth's shadows 
 and sunshine we toil on, hope on. 
 
 " In that land of beauty, in that home of joy, 
 
 By the gates they '11 meet us, 'neath that golden sky, 
 Meet us at the portal, meet us by and bye." 
 
3p Jrojtitj SrtL 
 
" O, MY heart is a garden, and blossoming there 
 Is a fragrant and delicate flower; 
 I guard it with care; 
 So tender and rare, 
 And so fair, 
 It would die in a shower. 
 
 O, my heart is a desert, my flower is not here ; 
 I knew 't would be gone on the morrow. 
 And sadly I go, 
 Wearily and slow, 
 To and fro, 
 O'er the sands of my sorrow. 
 
 Ah, my flower is transplanted to heaven so bright, 
 By the Gardener; true to his love, 
 It will bloom and be fair, 
 And be safe for me there, 
 In his care, 
 Till I 'm summoned above." 
 
II. 
 
 HAVE had no experience in life 
 which has caused me a deeper sor- 
 row of heart than the death of a dear 
 I thought, when I came home 
 S from the grave the first time, that the 
 most expressive symbol of my loss was 
 the little empty crib which stood in the 
 corner of the room. 
 
 On beginning that very interesting 
 chapter in our lives, housekeeping, one 
 of the requisites was a crib. People can 
 have in their own homes what boarders, 
 whose chief study is to economize space, must 
 generally be denied. Now that we had gone 
 to housekeeping, the little two-year-old must 
 have a crib. 
 
 Then I happened to be in just that condition 
 wherein it was necessary for me to husband my 
 
 3 33 
 
 i 
 
 it 
 
34 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 pecuniary resources, which at best were not 
 very abundant; and hence, wherever it was 
 possible, I used my hands, and whatever inge- 
 nuity I possessed, to construct articles for 
 household use. Every well-furnished house, 
 I thought, should have a crib. Mine must 
 have one. 
 
 I am not ashamed here to put on record the 
 fact that I could not afford to buy a crib such 
 as I had seen at the furniture-shops, however 
 desirable such an elegant article might be. 
 Honest poverty is not to be despised. There 
 is no other school where one learns so much, 
 and so fast. It is really good to be poor. I 
 think one of the chief mistakes we make, and 
 one of the greatest barriers in the way of uni- 
 versal happiness, lies in thinking that the money 
 we possess is our own, and that they who have 
 much of it are most happy. 
 
 The discipline needed to ripen us into the 
 better life often comes in the form of depriva- 
 tions. The study of our means and our neces- 
 sities; that is to say, the enumeration of what 
 we want, or what we really must have — for our 
 wants usually outnumber our actual necessities 
 and the ability we possess of supplying them — 
 is just such a study as humanity needs to 
 develop the better traits. 
 
THE EMPTY CRIB. 35 
 
 In our journeys we often pass by many tidy- 
 looking houses, where all the surroundings indi- 
 cate poverty, but not always degradation. Some 
 people are poor and low, others are poor and 
 high. We must distinguish between these 
 two classes. I refer to houses where every 
 thing shows that there is the study of econ- 
 omy and neatness. There is the snowy cur- 
 tain in the window, the pretty bed of flowers 
 at the front door, the whitewashed fence, and 
 many other things which go to indicate that 
 those within are possessed of refined tastes and 
 good traits of character. 
 
 Well, to return. I set to work at making a 
 crib. I always could plan in mechanical matters 
 better than I could execute. I would not care 
 to show my work, but I can state the manner 
 of procedure. The tools I used consisted of a 
 saw, hammer, and auger. Taking the little one 
 by the hand, I went to the barn, one bright, 
 beautiful Autumn morning, to make a crib. It 
 was an era in the dear child's life, a real gala- 
 day. She was going to have a crib all her own, 
 and papa was going to make it — a crib by a 
 stretch of terms, by the way. She was as 
 much interested in the work as I was, and knew 
 nearly as well how to proceed as I did. I sawed 
 off four blocks of wood, each about a foot in 
 
36 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 length, into the ends of which I bored holes 
 and put castors. Then I nailed on strips, for 
 ends, sides, and bottom, and the crib was com- 
 plete, with the most trifling outlay of time and 
 money. When it was done I felt that my inge- 
 nuity had triumphed over my impecuniosity. 
 The crib was put to its place, and the little 
 darling of my house was as delighted with it as 
 if she had come into the ownership of the most 
 beautiful and costly piece of furniture in the 
 world. For eighteen happy months, night by 
 night, she sweetly slumbered in it, by my own 
 bedside, 
 
 " Tended and watched by angels, bending o'er, 
 Waiting to bear her to that far-off shore." 
 
 I have looked back to that morning's work a 
 thousand times, as to one of the most pleasant 
 hours of my life. Making the "crib" yielded 
 far more pleasure to father and child than if 
 some one had presented us one much finer. 
 
 Sleeping by my bedside, the dear child would 
 sometimes become wakeful during the long 
 nights. Some noise would disturb her slum- 
 bers, or something in her dreams would affright 
 her. Then she would call to me. I laid down 
 with the care of her on my mind; it was my 
 choice to do so. The first sound of that little 
 voice would generally arouse me. She usually 
 
THE EMPTY CRIB. 37 
 
 said, "Papa, hold my hand." Then I would 
 reach out and take her little hand in my own, 
 and in a few moments she would fall asleep 
 again. Some way, she felt secure with her 
 hand in mine. 
 
 Now, is there not here a lesson for us all? 
 Are we not all children of a common Heavenly 
 Father? Are there not times when we are 
 fearful and distrustful? Earth has many a long, 
 dark night of sorrow, many a disturbing trial, 
 many an enemy. Let us not forget our Father, 
 w T ho will take our hand in his. Can aught harm 
 us if he protects? Can we in the darkness say 
 and feel that we are safe, in the storm feel that 
 no evil shall come nigh unto us? Is it not 
 written, "He shall hide me in his pavilion, in 
 the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me?" 
 O happy, trusting love, that can say, always, 
 "My Father," and then lean on Him for 
 support ! 
 
 That little, homely crib of ours, which would 
 not have brought three shillings in any second- 
 hand furniture-shop, was still valuable to us be- 
 because of its associations, and we preserved it 
 a long time for the dear child's sake. The sight 
 of that crib would call forth our tears. I some- 
 times thought we did wrong in giving way to 
 our feelings so much. But what are these 
 
38 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 emotions for? Then, again, would-be comfort- 
 ers would tell us not to grieve, for the child 
 was better off than when it was living in the 
 flesh, and that we could go to it by and by. 
 All this may have been well-meant advice and 
 consolation, which in the abstract was entirely 
 true; but it utterly failed to make any impres- 
 sion on our minds. 
 
 Before death came to our home, I had often 
 been called upon,, as a pastor, to comfort others 
 in their sorrows; and I too had given just such 
 advice, to those who stood weeping by the 
 coffins of their loved ones, as others were now 
 giving to us. But when the sorrow touched 
 me, I found how far short I had come in my 
 efforts to impart consolation. I felt like going 
 straightway to every poor, sorrowing mother 
 whose child had died, to confess my fault, to 
 unsay nearly all I had said, to bid them weep; 
 for I found tears to be a relief to a wounded soul. 
 
 " Tears yet are ours, whene'r misfortunes press; 
 And though our weeping fails to give redress, 
 Long as their fruits the changing seasons bring, 
 Those bitter drops will flow from sorrow's spring." 
 
 God intended us to weep. Even "Jesus 
 wept." It is said of the great Edmund Burke, 
 that when he lost his only son his grief was 
 appalling. He would sit in that unnatural calm- 
 
THE EMPTY CRIB. 39 
 
 ness of despair which was even more terrific 
 than the display of the wildest passion. Then 
 a burst of frenzy would come over him, and he 
 would rush into the room where lay the form 
 of his child, and call in accents of fearful 
 anguish for the hope of his age and the comfort 
 of his declining and now joyless years. 
 
 There is an old saying, ''Little griefs speak; 
 great griefs are dumb," which I can hardly 
 indorse. In my opinion, it is a matter of tem- 
 perament. Great griefs do speak. But, then, 
 I know one's sorrows may become so great that 
 there comes over the soul the "calmness of 
 despair;" then tears are impossible. I have 
 heard a broken-hearted mother say, "O, if I 
 could only weep !" Such grief endangers health, 
 and life itself. Here is mystery, an explanation 
 of which would show us that we are fitted by 
 this hard discipline the better to serve others. 
 There are just two things in human life to be 
 especially mindful of, — love to God and love to 
 man. In such service we realize the highest 
 perfection of our own being. 
 
 Ever, after death had invaded my home, I 
 said to the bereaved and stricken ones around 
 me, Weep, for in tears the spirit finds solace. 
 After a baptism of tears the heart comes 
 nearer its reconciliation. Tears shed at the 
 
40 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 grave in some sense become a fresh tribute 
 of love. When people become in the highest 
 sense refined and cultivated in their feelings, 
 they are more susceptible to sorrow, and more 
 capable of true joy. There are heights of 
 pleasure to whose bright summits the barbarian 
 never comes, never can come. All genuine 
 pleasure is spiritual, and implies high moral 
 development. Jesus said, (t Man shall not live 
 by bread alone." The sources of the truest life 
 are not the material things which surround us. 
 Then, welcome a spiritual cultivation that, while 
 it makes us subjects of deeper woe, also elevates 
 us to a companionship with angels. The savage 
 mother can not mourn for her dead babe as the 
 morally developed Christian mother mourns 
 for hers. 
 
 % " Dearly bought, the hidden treasure 
 
 Finer feelings can bestow ; 
 Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure 
 Thrill the deepest notes of woe." 
 
 If the Christian heart feels a deeper grief, its 
 consolation is also greater. The Christian's 
 hope comes in to assuage the troubled spirit. 
 
 As my second child gasped his last breath, 
 and the spirit had fled, the mother bent over 
 his little tender form, and gave full vent to her 
 feelings. Up to this moment they were in part 
 
THE EMPTY CRIB. 4 1 
 
 suppressed. While there was life there was 
 hope. Now that all was over, and the dear 
 eyes were closed forever on this world, there 
 was no feeling of that heart but what had its 
 foundation in sorrow.. She wanted to caress the 
 little body once more, ere it grew stiff and cold. 
 She craved, as a last act, the privilege of press- 
 ing the dear babe to her breast just one more 
 time. It was an instinct of a motherly heart. 
 Every tender emotion of that heart w r as stirred. 
 The foundation of her whole being was shaken. 
 Just then a well-meaning and really kind-hearted 
 woman, one who had never lost a child, who 
 never had one to lose, appointed herself mistress 
 of ceremonies, and, being of strong will and 
 equally strong arm, almost by force tore that 
 bereaved and stricken mother from the lifeless 
 form of her child, and bore her away to another 
 room, vehemently exhorting her all the time not 
 to weep and give way to her feelings; that it 
 was wrong; that the indulgence of such grief 
 was not the way to be resigned to the will of 
 God. I say it was a well-meant effort to do a 
 kind act; but if heart-instincts mean any thing, 
 and surely they do, God has not endowed this 
 human nature with such susceptibilities only to 
 be crushed out. Then, the meant kindness was 
 really an unkindness. The poor woman made a 
 
42 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 mistake, that was all. But that mother, to this 
 day, has not forgotten that hour, and never will 
 she forget it while her memory is enthroned 
 upon its seat. 
 
 Ever after death had come to my home, and 
 by a bitter experience, I had been made to un- 
 derstand what the word bereavement meant, I 
 said to those who came to me for consolation, It 
 is your right to weep, your duty to feel. The 
 Father does not expect you to go through all 
 this without feeling. As the plowshare breaks 
 up the hardened soil for seed-time and harvest^ 
 so God's providential chastisements prepare the 
 hearts of his children for a glorious spiritual 
 fruitage. "No chastisement for the present 
 seemeth to be joyous, but grievous; neverthe- 
 less, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of 
 righteousness unto them which are exercised 
 thereby.' ' (Hebrews xii, II.) Through death 
 He bringeth life, out of darkness he causes the 
 beautiful light to stream. He has our whole 
 existence in view, for eternity as well as time. 
 He may make us unhappy . now, in order to 
 make us happy in the future. These griefs are a 
 discipline which shall bring us nearer our Father. 
 Some one has said, "The rod of affliction is a 
 branch cut from the tree of life." The difficulty 
 with us is, we are too earthly. If God had not 
 
THE EMPTY CRIB. 43 
 
 interposed, we should not have thought of him 
 or the heaven he has prepared for us. 
 
 So I say the deaths of our children may be a 
 bitter grief to us ; but they become the burnished 
 links of gold which bind our poor hearts about 
 the throne of Infinite Love. With such views, 
 I have gone to the sobbing mother, every fiber 
 of whose body was quivering with suppressed 
 emotion, and I have said to her, Weep, mother, 
 you will find relief in tears. God has as surely 
 constructed the heart for feeling as for pulsating, 
 the eye for weeping as for seeing, else why does 
 universal humanity weep when great sorrows 
 come upon it? Why have all men located the 
 emotions in the heart, I mean the fleshly heart? 
 Such a universal sentiment is not without a 
 foundation in the nature of things, and the heart 
 does sometimes break literally. As the brain is 
 the seat of intelligence, so the heart is the seat 
 of the moral feelings. 
 
 I have said to the mother, Go, when the 
 freshness and beauty of Spring come, when the 
 buds are bursting into leaves, when the grass is 
 green beneath your tread; go, when the sweet 
 flowers are opening their petals and exhaling 
 their fragrance, filling all the air with their deli- 
 cate aroma; go to the little grave where your 
 darling sleeps; plant flowers, train the myrtle, 
 
44 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 and bedew the little mound with your warm, 
 fresh tears; and in this service of love you will 
 be soothed, your spirit will be calmed; you will 
 have been in communion with the angels. They 
 will come to you, as they came to Jesus, and 
 "minister unto you." 
 
 I looked at the empty crib and wept; but I 
 reasoned as well. My grief seemed too great to 
 bear; but then I thought of the empty cribs in 
 thousands of other homes in every land; and 
 dear as were my children to me, to us, they 
 were no dearer than other people's children were 
 to them. I could see the brightness or the beauty 
 of my own child as I might not see it in others ; 
 as others might not see it in mine. Every fa- 
 ther should think his own the dearest in the 
 world. Our children are sweeter to us, simply 
 because they are ours. It is right for us to feel 
 thus, and to act upon it as a principle. All 
 men admire such a love, and such an expression 
 of the tender affection. The Father has thus 
 wisely thrown around the child this protective 
 shield of love. 
 
 As I gazed on the empty crib, I thought of 
 this great brotherhood of sorrow. How we do 
 come together on this plane! The world some- 
 times seems very cold and formal; but then let 
 some great calamity overtake us, and it will 
 
THE EMPTY CRIB. 45 
 
 wake up the love of human hearts all around 
 us. People whom we did not know will come 
 and speak tenderly to us, and proffer their serv- 
 ices with a heartiness which we can feel. One 
 after another came to me, of whose deep per- 
 sonal griefs I knew nothing, and could not 
 know, until I had walked in the same hard road 
 myself. And thus I learned to think more 
 about them, and feel more for them. 
 
 I used often to wonder why Mrs. B — al- 
 ways wore mourning, and why her face always 
 had such a weary expression. She looked as 
 though she had never smiled. Her features, 
 which were naturally fine, had the semblance of 
 a clay or iron cast, as if her face w T as never made 
 to wear a smile. She did smile sometimes, poor 
 woman! but it was the result of effort, and not 
 the spontaneous outgushing of a glad and cheer- 
 ful heart. I knew she had met with the loss of 
 one or more children. Always, when I went 
 there, she talked about them, and showed me 
 their pictures. It seemed to do her good to 
 tell over the story. I tried to comfort her by 
 telling her that they were better off, and that 
 she must look on the bright side, and live to 
 meet them in heaven. But the Father prepared 
 
 me to do Mrs. B and others good, by 
 
 afflicting me in the same w r ay. Then I could 
 
46 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 go to her as I never did before; for we had a 
 common sorrow. Just over in the cemetery 
 were three little mounds in one lot, and near 
 them one little grave in another lot. One day 
 we met there, and in my heart I said, Poor, 
 
 afflicted Mrs. B , I do pity you ! I thought 
 
 it was no wonder that she looked sad and weary 
 and disconsolate. There were her three little 
 graves against my one; for up to that day my 
 crib had only been emptied once — hers, three 
 times. I had kissed my dying child, and sadly 
 parted with it; she had kissed and parted with 
 her three. I said, No wonder she wears the 
 mourning garment, when all the birds of her 
 nest have flown away to a new clime. If in my 
 home the disappearance of one little form, the 
 absence of two little pattering feet, should make 
 the home, otherwise bright and cheerful, so un- 
 bearably dull and quiet, how must it seem in 
 her home, from which three have been taken? 
 Our homes from which children have been 
 taken are 
 
 " Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled. 
 You may break, you may ruin the vase, if you will ; 
 But the scent of the roses will hang round it still." 
 
 I said to her : The frost which nips the foliage 
 of the mulberry-tree does not kill the silk-worm 
 cradled in its leaves. So death may blight our 
 
THE EMPTY CRIB. 47 
 
 homes, without destroying us. You have lost, 
 I have lost; but there is good in it all. Let us 
 arise from the earth, where we sit in our sorrow, 
 and behold the day of God. Let us be learners 
 in this school, where Jesus teaches to look 
 through the grave out into the blissful regions 
 of immortality. 
 
 " What God intended as a blessing and a boon 
 We have received as such ; and we can say 
 A solemn, yet a joyful, thing is life, 
 Which, being full of duties, is for us 
 Of gladness full, and full of lofty hopes." 
 
 There, too, was Mr. S , whose son was a 
 
 hopeless maniac, roaming the streets, at times 
 raving w T ild — the dread of the household, the 
 terror of the community. In his childhood he 
 was unusually bright and promising. His early 
 boyhood was really brilliant. The hopes of a 
 whole family were centered in him. Even 
 in his ravings, there was at times an effort at 
 reason. It was like the sun struggling through 
 the rifted clouds ; but, alas ! these clouds would 
 not open, and the sun would stay hidden behind 
 their thick masses. That father would often say, 
 "O, if he had only died when he was a child, 
 and I could remember him always as he was 
 then!" But that flower had withered; that cup 
 was dashed into fragments. The only prospect 
 
48 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 was for poor G to be one of those unhappy- 
 beings who are destined to run at large, dreaded 
 alike by young and old, against whom the 
 asylum is closed because the case is incurable. 
 Had he died in infancy, leaving behind him an 
 empty crib, that fond father and mother would 
 have mourned; but now they bewail a heavier 
 affliction. 
 
 And there, too, was the C famiily. A 
 
 beloved son had gone from home, they knew 
 not whither. Perhaps he had sickened and died 
 in some distant city; or, having gone to sea, he 
 may by shipwreck or accident have gone to his 
 final rest beneath old ocean's billows; or he 
 may have met his fate by the hand of a mid- 
 night assassin, or died a languishing death in 
 some foreign prison. His fate they never could 
 know; and so, in agony of spirit, they wended 
 their dreary way through unbroken years of 
 suspense. Ah, I could look upon my empty 
 crib, and feel sure that my child was safe "in- 
 side the gates;" I could go to my one little 
 grave, and then to my two, and then to my 
 three, and now four. I could plant flowers 
 there, while I looked forward to the meeting- 
 time which is sure to come by and by. I could 
 call up their pretty ways, and their loving 
 caresses. I could think of them, not as lost 
 
THE EMPTY CRIB. 49 
 
 to me, but saved for me; for I know where 
 they are. 
 
 As I thought more about my empty crib, 
 and came into closer sympathy with those who 
 had been called upon to pass through these dark 
 waters, I found myself becoming more fully 
 reconciled to my loss. I settled down into the 
 full conviction that it was all right and best ; 
 for it had taken place under the eye of my 
 Heavenly Father, "who doeth all things well. ,, 
 I had nothing to remember of my dear children 
 that was not pleasant, nothing to fear for them 
 in the future. 
 
 A precious and comforting feeling of owner- 
 ship in my children cheers me greatly. I can 
 say they are mine yet; and mine they will be 
 forever. I shall endeavor to show, in a subse- 
 quent chapter, how the child will grow in 
 heaven; but, notwithstanding that, nothing can 
 ever change the fact that these bright spirits in 
 heaven were mine, in a very special sense. I 
 was their earthly parent. You were once the 
 father or mother of a little suffering mortal — 
 now, of a glorified spirit before the throne 
 of God. 
 
 My crib stood empty ; for the child had gone 
 where there is no night, where they do not 
 sleep. That little crib not only signified the 
 
 4 
 
50 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 absent child, but it led the thoughts up to the 
 heavenly home, where she had gone, 
 
 " Far beyond the reach of mortal ken. 
 No eye hath seen it, nor hath human pen 
 Portrayed the glories of that world above, 
 Whose very atmosphere is love. 
 There Christians, who in union dwelt on earth, 
 Heirs of its mansions by celestial birth, 
 In blest society shall meet and blend." 
 
 We are going home — the tender ones have 
 gone on before us. They have reached the 
 gates, which have opened to let them in, and 
 they are safe. 
 
iijm|m% t Irt^ m& %nh$* 
 
" That loss is common, would not make 
 My own less bitter — rather, more ; 
 Too common. Never morning wore 
 To evening, but some heart did break. 
 
 This truth came borne with bier and pall ; 
 I felt it when I sorrowed most : 
 'T is better to have loved and lost, 
 
 Than never to have loved at all." 
 
 !C No radiant pearl, which crested fortune wears ; 
 No gem, that twinkling hangs from beauty's ears; 
 Not the bright stars, which night's blue arch adorn, 
 Nor rising sun, that gilds the vernal morn, — 
 Shine with such luster as the tear that flows 
 Down virtue's manly cheek for others' woes." 
 
III. 
 
 $yn\|)atliy, ¥ftie ki]d ^al^e. 
 
 HEN all was over with my dear 
 children, and the grave had shut 
 them forever from my sight, I tried 
 to feel reconciled. I felt that it was my 
 £? duty to be resigned. But I questioned 
 myself on this wise : What is resignation ? 
 Is it to be indifferent? Is it to be in 
 some way hardened? Does it mean that 
 I am not to love the dear ones any 
 more? Then I remembered that the in- 
 tellect is one thing, and the heart quite 
 another. I knew intellectually that my 
 children were gone from me, beyond my 
 powers of recall. I might complain about it, 
 and wish it were otherwise; but the great and 
 sorrowful reality could not be changed. A 
 mother who once lost her child said to her 
 pastor, "I can not, I will not, have it so." 
 
 53 
 
 A 
 
54 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 "Yes; but what are you going to do about it?" 
 said he. Now, his answer might seem harsh; 
 but he felt that an appeal to her judgment was 
 necessary. We must be reasonable in our griefs. 
 I think there may be such a condition as 
 mental resignation to the death of a child, while 
 the heart yearns after and still clings to the 
 object of its love. This I sought to feel in my 
 own heart. My judgment assured me that there 
 was some good in it all. God, who knows 
 what is best for his children, had sent this 
 sorrow on me and mine. My heart and mind 
 were weighed down under the mighty burden 
 of a great loss. Then I prayed to my Father 
 to help me to endure the sorrow and the disap- 
 pointment, to subdue the longing for the little 
 clinging arms that death had unloosed, and the 
 sweet voice and the patter of little feet that 
 would never more make music in my home. 
 Very soon I came to the realization of a great 
 fact, namely : that my life was being molded by 
 an intelligent will, rather than by a blind power 
 in nature which had in it no pity. Looking up 
 to God, and praying to be made obedient, ena- 
 bled me to look forward to the time when I 
 should be made "perfect through suffering." 
 
 Then, as never before, did I understand the 
 words of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, 
 
SYMPATHY, TRUE AND FALSE. 55 
 
 when he cried out, in bitterness of soul, "0 my 
 Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from 
 me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou 
 wilt!" That he should go and pray thus three 
 times over, intensifies the thought. Jesus did 
 not rebel against the Father's will, even though 
 he prayed to be delivered from the bitterness 
 of the cup. His human nature here and in this 
 way asserted itself; but his higher, his divine, 
 nature came in to aid him in the fearful ordeal 
 through which his soul was passing. That ordeal 
 was not the betrayal, the trial, the crucifixion; 
 it was of far deeper significance. It was a 
 spiritual agony of some kind, which made his 
 soul "sorrowful even unto death." It must be 
 that in that hour he in some way, without par- 
 taking of sin, bore the sins of the whole world 
 on his heart. He was then enabled to look 
 back through all the past, and forward to all 
 the future, while his eye swept around the 
 whole horizon of the globe. Every woe of 
 humanity then and there centered on him ; then 
 and there he "tasted death for every man." 
 
 But I was going to say that, as Jesus prayed 
 "Let this cup pass," was it wrong for me, is it 
 wrong for any father or mother, to pray the 
 same prayer at the bedside of a dying child or 
 beloved friend? Gladly indeed would I have 
 
56 
 
 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 had this cup pass from me ; but equally glad 
 was I to know that if a burden of sorrow was 
 laid upon me the Father would help me bear 
 it. If Christ leads us into the dark, he will in 
 time show us the "true light. ,J Then did I 
 begin to realize that I had a sympathizing friend 
 in Jesus. He taught me how to lie in the dust 
 and pray, "Let this cup pass from me;" he 
 also taught me how to rise and say and feel, 
 "Thy will be done." In clinging to my dear 
 children, I only gave expression to the richest 
 gift of God to human nature: the affections of 
 the heart. "Let this cup pass— Thy will be 
 done," exactly expresses the position of the 
 trustful and obedient disciple. Saying thus, 
 with wounded heart, I waited the coming of 
 the Healer. 
 
 Very early in my ministerial life, I was called 
 upon one day to minister consolation to a dying 
 mother. It is a Jong time since that event — 
 her name even has quite passed from my recol- 
 lection; but I shall never forget the circum- 
 stances, and the thoughts that passed through 
 my mind during that pastoral visit. There, on 
 her bed, lay that mother, pale and emaciated, 
 while every thing in the room bore the marks 
 of poverty. There were her children, three 
 little girls — the youngest scarcely two years old, 
 
SYMPATHY, TRUE AND FALSE. 57 
 
 the eldest not more than seven. The father 
 was not present; and, from what I afterward 
 learned, his presence was an annoyance rather 
 than a source of comfort to his family at any 
 time. I was young in years, and had none of 
 the experience which older ministers possessed, 
 and which years have given me. The case was 
 urgent; the poor woman, to all human appear- 
 ance, would die in a few days. Taking a seat 
 by her bedside, I talked to her about dying. 
 She said she was not ready to die. I asked her 
 if she loved the Lord. "O yes," she answered; 
 "and in my poor way I have tried to serve 
 him." Then I said, "God will save you; you 
 have nothing to fear — only trust him." I in- 
 quired if she had ever made a profession of 
 religion. She said she had, but had been de- 
 prived of the privilege of attending Church 
 because she could not leave her children. I 
 noticed that the mention of her children affected 
 her very much. I told her that the Father 
 looks at the heart, and not at the outward acts 
 so much. "By their fruits ye shall know 
 them," said the Savior. We can not know the 
 heart, the interior springs of thought. God 
 looks deeper than man looks. I may misjudge 
 my fellow-man; but he who knoweth the heart 
 always judges correctly. I told the dying 
 
58 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 woman that duty never called in two directions 
 at the same time. When it was her duty to 
 stay at home, and take good care of the little 
 ones who needed her motherly attentions, it 
 was not her duty to go to meetings of any kind. 
 
 I did not say to her, but I will say here, that 
 people may commit sin by too much church- 
 going, as well as by too little. Christianity 
 does not require of us to neglect home and 
 children, husband or wife, to attend Church. I 
 have known a iji&n to attend meetings, to the 
 neglect of his business and the payment of his 
 honest debts. I have known a mother to attend 
 meetings while her children were racing through 
 the streets and taking advantage of her absence 
 to have dancing-parties in the parlor. Still I do 
 not think this is a very prevalent sin — the tend- 
 ency is rather to neglect the meetings by the 
 generality of mankind. 
 
 Believing all this, I assured that dying woman 
 that, when she was at home caring for her chil- 
 dren, she was just where God wanted her to be ; 
 that people can serve God well in the home, if 
 they have any heart to serve him at all. 
 
 While I was talking, I noticed that she began 
 to weep bitterly. The thought of her dear little 
 girls, one of whom sat playing on the floor so 
 innocently, so unconscious of its motherless 
 
SYMPATHY, TRUE AND FALSE. 59 
 
 destiny, came up before her, and a great wave 
 of sorrow swept across her soul. "I can not 
 be resigned,' ' she sobbed out. "I am afraid 
 God will not save me." 
 
 It was not necessary to question her much. 
 The difficulty in her case w r as apparent. That 
 trio of little girls bound her to the world. But 
 I said, in order to open the way to the subject, 
 "What is there, dear woman, that you can not 
 give up?" "My children," she answered, in 
 broken utterances. "What will become of 
 them? how can I leave them?" 
 
 Standing at the foot of the bed was an 
 elderly, hard-featured woman, who seemed to 
 have charge of the house. She stood there to 
 hear the young pastor talk, and perhaps to come 
 to his aid if necessary. "Never mind the chil- 
 dren, Mrs. , God will take care of them." 
 
 She spoke in a loud and harsh tone of voice. 
 The latter part of the sentence was true, and 
 was said as I should have said it myself, except 
 in its harshness. I realized that I was in a most 
 critical position, namely: to substitute a conso- 
 lation that would commend itself to that loving 
 mother's heart for that of the woman who said, 
 "Never mind the children." As well might 
 she have told her not to mind the shortness of 
 her breath, or the burning fever that was literally 
 
60 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 consuming her life. I said to her, by way 
 of what I thought better counsel: "Dear 
 woman, you must not expect that while you 
 are rational you can or will lose your motherly 
 interest in these three dear little girls. God 
 has given them to you, and he has given you 
 power to love them and care for them. He 
 never means you to cease loving them while 
 you exist, in this world or the next. You may 
 sorrow greatly at the thought of parting with 
 them, and you may pray your Heavenly Father 
 to spare you to them, if it be his will; but you 
 know that God is good, and if he takes you 
 away it will be for some wise purpose, which 
 you now can not see. ' Now we see through a 
 glass darkly, then face to face : now we know in 
 part, but then shall we know, even as also we 
 are known.' You will love your children more 
 even than you do now. Our Father may per- 
 mit you to watch over them by day and by 
 night, a guardian angel ever near. God does 
 not expect you to lose all your rational affection 
 for those who are so near to you. You and 
 they alike are children of a common Heavenly 
 Father; all are members of God's great family. 
 They may be here, and you there; but you can 
 surely trust them to the care of one so wise 
 and good. " I then opened my Bible, and read 
 

 SYMPATHY, TRUE AND FALSE. 6 1 
 
 the one hundred and third Psalm, which is so 
 full of tenderness; and prayed for the mother, 
 that she might be able to trust all to God, 
 into whose care we should place all our in- 
 terests. 
 
 I have every reason to believe that poor 
 dying woman was the better for my visit. She 
 sajd before she died that, without loving the 
 dear children any the less, she could resign 
 them to the hands of her Father in heaven. 
 
 When death came to my household, I learned 
 something about human nature which I other- 
 wise could not have known. God has various 
 ways of schooling his children. There was one 
 man in particular, whom I often met on the 
 street, but to whom I had never spoken. I 
 could never catch his eye long enough to even 
 bow to him ; and among the things I dislike in 
 this world is that of bowing to people in a 
 friendly way, and getting nothing but a stare in 
 return. But when one of my children was lying 
 dead in its little casket, this same strange, weird 
 sort of a man came to the house early one 
 morning, bringing a beautiful bouquet of flowers, 
 which he had gathered with his own hands. He 
 did not look up at me as I opened the door; 
 but, handing the flowers to me, he said, "Put 
 them on the little casket for me." He then 
 
62 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 turned and walked rapidly away. .That was 
 true sympathy, modestly and beautifully ex- 
 pressed. Ever afterward I had a new feeling 
 of interest in that strange man. I could readily 
 excuse his singular manners, for he had proved 
 himself to me at a time when small acts are 
 appreciated. 
 
 There were some who came and t6ok us by 
 the hand, and scarcely spoke, or if they did it 
 was only a few tender words, which were like 
 precious balm laid upon the soul. There were 
 some people, on the other hand, who seemed to 
 think that the more they could harrow up every 
 feeling of the heart the more good they were 
 doing me. With characteristic officiousness 
 they rushed in upon me, at times when perfect 
 solitude, with my own thoughts, would have 
 been more consonant with my feelings than 
 their honest, perhaps, though unwise, efforts to 
 impart consolation. By a persistent and endless 
 system of interrogation, they would seek to in- 
 form themselves as to the nature and cause of 
 the disease, and were sure to remark that it was 
 always very fatal. Such people are quite apt to 
 remind you that you might have known your 
 child would die — they always felt it was not 
 long for this world. Then, in their opinion, 
 Dr. B would have understood and managed 
 
SYMPATHY, TRUE AND FALSE. 63 
 the case much more successfully than Dr. C , 
 
 whom you employed, and who always lost so 
 many patients, and gave such strong medicine. 
 They inquire about the symptoms, and why 
 you did this or that. They carry you to the 
 grave, and speak to you of the "dismal falling 
 clod," and express their regret that the burying- 
 ground is "such a watery place," closing their 
 attempts at consolation by exhorting you m to 
 "try and bear it, for it is the way of the 
 world." It is hard to be deprived of one's 
 friends — I had almost said it is harder to have 
 one's privacy intruded upon by such miserable 
 comforters. Genuine sympathy, like genuine 
 piety, is usually quiet and undemonstrative; 
 while either, put on for the occasion, is noisy 
 and shallow. A stream of shallow water, only 
 a few feet wide, makes more noise, as it flows 
 along, than the Mississippi River. 
 
 I received from time to time, after the death 
 of a dear child, some very tender letters. I 
 will insert a few brief extracts from some of 
 them, hoping that they may comfort others as 
 they did me. 
 
 A brother minister wrote: 
 
 ' ' We this evening received your note, break- 
 ing to us the sad news of the death of your 
 dear child. We sympathize with you in this 
 
64 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 your deep affliction. Even our children took a 
 good cry when we told them they would never 
 see their little playmate again. The news was 
 so sudden and unexpected to us that we can 
 scarcely realize it. Death has never yet, thanks 
 to our Father, entered our home; and yet we 
 can imagine something of your feelings in this 
 your bereavement. What if it had been one 
 of ours, whom we love so well? What if God 
 had said, ' Restore your, trust; give me back 
 my own?' What would be our feelings, and 
 where would be our consolation? Could we 
 say, from the heart, 'Thy will be done?' Could 
 we indeed feel that 'of such is the kingdom of 
 heaven?' And yet, is not this the bereaved 
 parents' consolation, that the lost child is now a 
 bright spirit, infinitely more happy, better cared 
 for, better educated, enjoying a purer society 
 than is possible to this earth-life? The flower 
 is not blasted, only transplanted. 'She is not 
 dead, but sleepeth,' are the words of Jesus, and 
 they are offered to you, sorrowing ones. Such 
 would be my consolation, were mine to go; 
 such must be yours, now that your child has 
 been taken. Think not of your dear one as 
 being in the grave, but in heaven. Think of 
 her as mingling with the spirit throng. Feel 
 that, as never before, your hearts are bound to 
 
SYMPATHY, TRUE AND FALSE. 65 
 
 the throne of God. Remember that ' God 
 doeth all things well.' " 
 
 Another wrote: 
 
 "The intelligence of the death of your dear 
 child was as painful as it was unexpected to us. 
 In your letter to us, a few days ago, you men- 
 tioned her sickness, but you apprehended no 
 danger. O, how uncertain is life ! I know you 
 are sad. Your house is lonely enough. I need 
 not exhort you to be resigned. . . . How 
 cheering now must be the doctrine of the atone- 
 ment and the- resurrection. To you, the fact 
 that Jesus died for all must be a precious 
 thought just now. The sinless child is saved, 
 even beyond a peradventure. The atonement 
 says, 'All is well;' the resurrection truth com- 
 pels the grave to say to the weeping parent, ' I 
 will restore/ You sorrow now, as you look 
 upon your empty crib ; but think of the spirit- 
 treasure you have laid up in heaven. How 
 strong is the tie which binds your hearts to 
 heaven ! Yours is now a dispensation of sorrow. 
 By and by God will raise the curtain which 
 hides the mortal from the immortal, and you 
 will see over into the better land, and your sor- 
 row will be turned into joy." 
 
 I received very many such letters from my 
 friends, filled with words. of comfort and instruc- 
 
 5 
 
66 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 tion ; and being so true, and so kindly tendered, 
 they made me feel thankful for sympathy. And 
 yet there was the same void, the same cry of 
 the heart after its treasure. It is easy to say, 
 "Be reconciled ;" but the poor bruised and 
 bleeding heart can not forget its pain and loss 
 so easily. Only time, that great healer, and 
 the precious pity and love of God, can lift us 
 above such mighty griefs. 
 
 A dear sister wrote: 
 
 "It is only the breaking of the casket; the 
 jewel is untouched. . . . You have the 
 consciousness of her safety, and the memory of 
 her sweetness, which must hang in your sky 
 like a vision of glory. . . . Never before 
 did I realize what a long, dark shadow one 
 little coffin would cast. But if it be true that 
 roughest rinds fold over sweetest fruits, and 
 heaviest clouds rain the most ample harvests on 
 the fields, and if deepest griefs have holiest 
 ministries, then shall we all be better because 
 of this bereavement ' God's ways are 
 
 past finding out;' we can only trust and wait. 
 To the eye of faith the pearly gates stand open 
 wide, and out of the beautiful heaven I imagine 
 the voice calls to us all : 
 
 ' Come to this happy land, 
 Come, come away.' " 
 
 
SYMPATHY, TRUE AND FALSE. 67 
 
 This universal human sympathy does put 
 rather a cheerful aspect on life, after all. It is 
 the rainbow that arches grandly over the cloud 
 of sorrow; it is the sweet aroma that comes 
 after the crushing of the flower. 
 
 The first time I rose in the pulpit after a 
 death in my household, I felt strangely drawn 
 toward the people. That sorrow seemed to be 
 divine. I said, It is of God; I am a better and 
 a wiser man than I should have been without 
 this experience. I am glad I have friends in 
 heaven, glad I have children in heaven, — 
 
 " Spirits elect, through suffering rendered meet 
 
 For those blest mansions : from the nursery-door 
 Bright babes, that climb up with their shining feet 
 Unto the golden floor. 
 
 These are the messengers, forever wending 
 
 From earth to heaven, that faith alone may scan; 
 These are the angels of our God, descending 
 Upon the Son of man." 
 
 A dear friend sent us the following, from the 
 pen of an unknown writer, which has in it so 
 much of beauty and of truthfulness that it may 
 do others good, as it did me: 
 
 "In his moral tillage God cultivates many 
 flowers, seemingly only for their exquisite 
 beauty and fragrance; for when bathed in soft 
 sunshine they have burst into blossom, then the 
 divine hand gathers them from the earthly fields, 
 
68 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 to be kept in crystal vases in blessed mansions 
 above. Thus little children lie — some in the 
 sweet bud, some in fuller blossom; but never 
 too early to make heaven fairer and sweeter 
 with their immortal bloom. N 
 
 " Verily, to the eye of faith nothing is fairer 
 than the death of young children. Sight and 
 sense indeed recoil from it. The flower that, 
 like a breathing rose, filled heart and home with 
 exquisite delight — alas ! we are stricken with 
 sore anguish to find its stem broken and the 
 blossom gone. But unto faith, eagle-eyed be- 
 yond mental vision, and winged, to mount like 
 the shining lark over the fading rainbow unto 
 the blue heaven, even this is touchingly lovely. 
 
 "The child's earthly ministry was well done; 
 for the rose does its work as grandly in blossom 
 as the vine with its fruit. And having helped 
 to sanctify and lift heavenward the very hearts 
 that broke at its farewell, it has gone from this 
 troublesome sphere, ere the winds chilled or the 
 rains stained it, leaving the world it blessed and 
 the skies through which it passed still sweet with 
 its lingering fragrance, to its glory as an ever- 
 unfolding flower in the blessed garden of God. 
 Surely, prolonged life on earth hath no boon 
 like this. For such mortal loveliness to put on 
 immortality; to rise from the carnal with so 
 
SYMPATHY, TRUE AND FALSE. 69 
 
 little memory of earth that the mother's cradle 
 seemed to have been rocked in the house of 
 'many mansions;' to have no experience of a 
 wearied mind and chilled affections, but from 
 a child's arch-angelic intellect to be raptured 
 as a blest bat>e through the gates of Paradise, — 
 ah, this is better than to watch, as an old 
 prophet, for the car of fire in the Valley of 
 Jordan. 
 
 "Surely God is wise in all his works; and 
 even amid our tears will we rejoice, in this 
 harvest-feast, that among us, as elsewhere, he 
 gathers so largely 'the flowers in their season.' 
 
 "And as of flowers, so of fruits in their 
 order and after their kind, 'each cometh in his 
 season.' Some fruits ripen early. Scarcely has 
 the delicious June poured its full glory over the 
 earth ere some rare and delicious species are 
 already ripened. And some ripen later. There 
 are trees that do not even blossom until mid- 
 summer; there are fruits that remain hard and 
 unsavory until God shakes them in the wild 
 autumnal wind, and treats them with the dis- 
 tressful ministry of frost. And so it is in the 
 spiritual world — souls develop and mature dif- 
 ferently. Some are ready for gathering at life's 
 early Summer; some come not to the earing 
 till the 'time of the latter rain.' And God 
 
yo INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 watches carefully that 'each shall come in his 
 season.' We indeed talk of the ' untimely 
 deaths' of young Christians, removed too early 
 from spheres of usefulness, as if the omniscient 
 husbandman did not know when his immortal 
 grapes are purple, and his corn in the ear. 
 Surely God does the whole thing wisely, gath- 
 ering each spiritual growth just as it comes into 
 condition for its immortal uses." 
 
 O, thought beautiful and comforting. Death 
 is not destruction, but harvesting: the gathering 
 from fields of mortal tillage ripe fruits in their 
 season. And why, then, should our harvest- 
 feast be sad over garnered immortality? Why 
 should the sweetly tolling bell, filling the trou- 
 bled earthy airs with a gentle sound, so startle 
 and appall the trustful spirit? God strengthen 
 your faith so as to behold this mysterious thing 
 in a light from heaven, that its dark veil shall 
 seem transparent, and a face with soft eyes shall 
 look forth, loving and bright as the face of an 
 angel. 
 
 No. Death is not destruction. Death is not 
 even decay. Death is harvesting. Hear, ye 
 parents, from whose households sweet children 
 have been rudely parted, hear ye this: ''The 
 beloved has gone down into his garden to gather 
 lilies. " Ye children, who have lost revered 
 
SYMPATHY, TRUE AND FALSE. 71 
 
 parents, and whose life is chilled in the shadow 
 of that dread " thing, orphanage, hear ye this : 
 " As a shock of corn cometh in in his season, so 
 shall matured souls be gathered in the garner 
 of God." 
 
 O yes; my dear children and yours are only 
 transplanted flowers. In the Summer-land of 
 immortality they bloom, never to fade. 
 
 " Not lost! O no; not lost, nor dead. 
 
 Immortals can not die ; 
 They only quit their crumbling cage, 
 
 For mansions in the sky. 
 Beyond the reach of tears and pain, 
 
 Where death hath lost its sting, 
 Within the realms of endless day, 
 
 They fold their weary wing." 
 
»pfr-Jt% 
 
;< Light to thy path, bright creature ; I would charm 
 Thy being, if I could, that it might be 
 Ever as thou dreamest, and flow on, 
 Thus innocent and blissful, to heaven. " 
 
 " 'T is granted, and no plainer truth appears, 
 Our most important are our earliest years ; 
 The mind, impressible and soft with ease, 
 Imbibes and copies what she hears and sees, 
 And through life's labyrinth holds fast the clew 
 That education gives her, false or true. 
 Plants raised with tenderness are seldom strong; 
 Man's coltish disposition asks the thong ; 
 And without discipline the favored child, 
 Like a neglected forester, runs wild." 
 
IV. 
 
 «? 
 
 sfe 
 
 AM now going to ask. you to turn 
 your thoughts from the child dead 
 to the child living and moving about 
 in this world. We need not forget the 
 dear departed ones whom we have laid 
 away in dreamless and unbroken sleep. 
 Their memories are too precious to us 
 ever to pass away from the recollection. 
 But we know that our children dead are 
 safe. Our children living are not free 
 from danger, even with all the protection 
 of parental love, and the hallowed influ- 
 ences of home to shield them. 
 
 The little child in your family may be pure 
 and innocent to-day ; but, alas ! to-morrow the 
 mark of sin may be on its soul, and as it grows 
 up to manhood or womanhood it may be scarred 
 all over with sin. 
 
 75 
 
76 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 I have somewhere read of a famed artist, 
 who in his youth conceived the idea of painting 
 a picture of innocence. He therefore went to 
 to the nursery, and made a sketch of a little 
 child at its mother's knee in the attitude of 
 prayer. It was a beautiful conception ; and he 
 wrought out the picture and placed it on the 
 walls of his studio, and called it " Innocence/ ' 
 The years passed by, and the artist grew to be 
 old; but ere he would put away his brush and 
 pallet forever he desired to paint a picture of 
 guilt. Then he went, not to the nursery, but 
 to the prison; and there, on the floor of a 
 gloomy cell, lay a wretched man in chains. 
 His eyes glared, and he cursed all who came 
 near him. The artist made his cartoon, wrought 
 out his picture, and hung it beside the beautiful 
 picture of "Innocence." So "Innocence" and 
 "Guilt" hung side by side— the one in all its 
 purity and sweetness, the other loathsome in its 
 moral deformity. The legend affirms that they 
 were paintings of the same person. The guilty 
 wretch on the prison-floor in chains was once 
 the innocent and beautiful child of the nursery 
 repeating his evening prayer with uplifted hands, 
 differentiated by time and sin. 
 
 And so it is: the child in your home to-day, 
 pure and sweet as an angel, may be in the years 
 
child-life. yy 
 
 to come the wayward boy or girl — yes, the 
 guilty criminal in the prison-cell. These are 
 startling possibilities, and should move us to 
 mighty exertions to rescue the innocent one 
 from its possible perils. 
 
 I am a firm believer in the possibility of 
 saving- all, or nearly all, of the children. I say 
 nearly all; for I have known spme parents who 
 were so judicious, good, and true, and yet whose 
 children grew up so wayward and wicked, that 
 I can not say all. There seem to be some 
 cases of such entire moral perversion that one 
 gets a very strong argument from them in sup- 
 port of the doctrine of total depravity. Then, 
 I say nearly all — at least vastly more than are 
 saved. 
 
 Let me now inquire, what is a child? If we 
 may get the answer from the way so many 
 people treat their children, then a child is a 
 little living being who has by some means stum- 
 bled into existence. A being with a pair of 
 feet to run in all sorts of paths, according to its 
 own will; a being with a pair of hands to work 
 good or evil, as it pleases ; a being with a pair 
 of eyes to see whatever sights come in its way, 
 taking note many times of the inconsistencies of 
 its elders; a pair of ears that gather up the 
 sounds that fall upon them, flashing their im- 
 
78 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 pressions home to the heart; a being for years 
 subject to the will or caprices of its elders, 
 whose influence may cause it to grow up to the 
 perfection of manhood or womanly virtue, or 
 which may burrow its way into the earth, and 
 become earthly, sensual, devilish. 
 
 At the very basis of all education, moral and 
 intellectual, there must be a proper understand- 
 ing of child-nature, or child-life. Our business, 
 as parents and teachers, is to take the child as 
 it is, and shape its being. A child, then, is an 
 ungrown, undeveloped man or woman. Let me 
 illustrate : The little tree in your garden is only 
 a couple of feet in height; it is held in the 
 earth by only a few small and tender rootlets; 
 its bark is thin and delicate; its branches are 
 easily bent or broken. The winds could easily 
 push it over, or a passing cart-wheel crush it. 
 And yet our little tree is perfect in all its parts, 
 from root to topmost branch. But it can not 
 endure what the old tree, with rugged limb and 
 deep root, can bear easily. You know this, and 
 accordingly you guard that tree most carefully 
 by an inclosure of some kind. You cover the 
 earth about the roots with compost, to enrich 
 the soil, thus at the same time protecting them 
 from Winter's frosts and Summer's heat as well. 
 You watch it, and think about it, and look 
 
CHILD-LIFE. 79 
 
 forward to the time when it will be full-grown, 
 beautiful, and fruitful. 
 
 Sometimes the very young tree is gnarled 
 and crooked. What now does the careful nur 
 seryman do? Does he cast it aside to be 
 burned? Or does he gather all the gnarled 
 and crooked trees together and make an orchard 
 of them, unsightly and useless? No. He takes 
 the little tree and prunes it; he straightens the 
 crooked places, scrapes off the diseased parts, 
 takes special care of it, supports its tender 
 stem and weak branches, with intelligent refer- 
 ence to the nature of the tree. By and by it 
 becomes fully grown, and by its beauty and 
 symmetry amply repays the husbandman for 
 all the care he has bestowed upon it. 
 
 Like the little tree in the garden, the child 
 in the family is very tender and susceptible. 
 It is not very deep-rooted, as the thousands of 
 little graves scattered over all the world abun- 
 dantly attest. These little moral trees are very 
 easily pushed over by the winds of disease or 
 the wheels of harsh treatment and neglect. 
 They are sensitive, the bark is easily abraded, 
 the branches are readily bent, their powers of 
 endurance are comparatively small; so they 
 must be watched and protected, and receive 
 the most constant and intelligent care. 
 
8o INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 But there are some gnarled and crooked 
 children in this moral garden. What, I ask, is 
 our duty toward them? Shall they be per- 
 mitted to grow up in their perversity, dwarfed 
 souls, a blot upon the age in which they live? 
 Why not do with them as the gardener does 
 with the little trees under his care? It is cer- 
 tain, however, that with the tree much depends 
 upon the soil in which it is planted. It is 
 equally true that much depends upon the home 
 where the child-tree has taken root, and is 
 destined to grow up. 
 
 I think, if you will carefully study the child, 
 you will find that it possesses all the faculties 
 of the full-grown man or woman. You will 
 discover there memory, will, and judgment, 
 though with less of strength than the adult 
 possesses. The strongest of the three is usually 
 the will; and it should be strong in child or 
 adult, for it is the motive-power of being. .All 
 it needs is proper education. A weak engine in 
 a ship would be no more deplorable than a weak 
 will in a child. It is no disparagement if your 
 child has a strong will; only train it. That 
 willy in after-life, may carry its possessor over 
 difficulties that otherwise would be insurmount- 
 able, and away from temptations that might 
 prove damning. 
 
CHILD-LIFE. 8 1 
 
 Again, the child soon shows that it has the 
 power of perception. The first time it opens 
 its eyes it perceives something, and receives an 
 impression. Then it begins to conceive ideas. 
 Thought comes to its mind through the eye and 
 ear. Thought is to the child's mind what food 
 is to the stomach. The one stimulates the 
 digestive organs, the other the mind's organs. 
 These mental powers act on the thought, and 
 new ideas are brain-born; ideas of relation, 
 which come not of the senses. The child is a 
 thinker, a reasoner, almost as soon as it begins 
 to live. 
 
 11 Thoughts upon thoughts, a countless throng, 
 Rush, bearing countless thoughts along." 
 
 The child grows to manhood as the years go 
 by, and these thoughts become the principles 
 and theories of the man — "the child is father 
 of the man" — thoughts which rule empires, 
 giving joy or sorrow to millions of mankind. 
 
 Furthermore, the child has a conscience, and 
 it is naturally disposed to be religious. This 
 moral determinative faculty is part and parcel 
 of our nature. The child is therefore a perfect 
 being as it comes from the hand of its Creator. 
 It is a miniature man or woman. I have in my 
 microscopical collection many pictures which 
 are so infinitesimal that they are invisible to 
 
82 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 the unassisted eye ; but under the glass they are 
 perfect and beautiful. Look at the child. It is 
 little, almost nothing, in the estimation of many ; 
 but turn on it the glass of the Gospel, and it 
 rises up into beautiful and perfect proportions. 
 "Except ye be converted, and become as little 
 children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom 
 of heaven. " Such is the estimate which Jesus 
 places upon the little child. 
 
 The child is an imaginative being. Its little 
 life is largely one of fancy. It plays school and 
 visit ; it converts a chair into a table, a chip into , 
 a dish, the window-sill into a piano, and a 
 bunch of rags into a doll. It holds conversa- 
 tions with unseen companions, it assumes gov- 
 ernment over them, and in a thousand ways 
 contrives to keep itself busy. Thus all these 
 infantile activities are but the first outgoings of 
 manhood and womanhood, the beginnings of 
 real life. 
 
 The child's mind is also susceptible to all 
 kinds of impressions. It has been compared to a 
 clean sheet of paper to be written upon. And O, 
 how sadly is the page spoiled sometimes by un- 
 skillful hands, and what fearful blots often mar 
 and disfigure a whole life! Childhood is the 
 time when the character is most easily warped 
 or molded. It is then that the greatest acquire- 
 
CHILD-LIFE. 83 
 
 » 
 ments of the whole life are made. The first 
 
 five or six years of every child's life are the 
 most important of its whole being. Hence, we 
 see the demand for wise and careful training — 
 that which includes patience, forbearance, and 
 love. Character of the better kind is of slow 
 growth ; but its beginning is in infancy. Pre- 
 cocity is to be dreaded. Too much brilliancy 
 may soon go out in an eclipse. Bear with the 
 little struggling soul. Help, with a smile and a 
 kind word, the little pilgrim in its journey. Do 
 not make the mistake of expecting that the 
 little tender mind will go at one full bound up 
 to the heights where you now stand. That 
 summit is gained only step by step. 
 
 But I must again refer to my tree. A little 
 tree in the garden may be very easily warped. 
 That which was trim and beautiful may become 
 crooked, and if left to grow up in that condition 
 will be deformed through its whole life. 
 
 Nature has her laws and penalties, and they 
 will be respected. The crimes of a boy may be 
 the moral ruin of the man. We write our own 
 histories, and preach our own funeral sermons. 
 
 "The rolling rock leaves its scratches on the 
 mountain, the river its channel in the soil, the 
 animal its bones in the stratum of rock, the 
 fern and leaf their modest epitaphs in the coal. 
 
84 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 The falling drop makes its sculpture in the sand 
 or the stone. Not a foot steps into the snow, 
 or along the ground, but prints in characters 
 more or less lasting a map of its march. Every 
 act of the man inscribes itself on the memories 
 of his fellows, as well as in his own face. The 
 air is full of sounds, the sky of tokens; the 
 ground is all memoranda and signatures, and 
 every object is covered over with hints which 
 speak to the intelligent." 
 
 Little Things. 
 
 Not less surely do little things in a child's 
 life influence its future. A blow undeserved, a 
 cold turning away from its childish questions, a 
 want of sympathy in its troubles, may send it 
 away into solitude and grief with a wonder in 
 its mind what life means, and for what purpose 
 it was created. A child's trouble is not a small 
 thing to its sensitive soul. It comes to you 
 with tearful eyes, and a heart throbbing with 
 distress, because of some little hurt, or the loss 
 of a penny, or the breaking of a cherished toy. 
 It is indeed a trifling thing to you, the mature 
 man or woman; but to the little one it is an 
 appalling disaster, a grief that beclouds the 
 young soul, and hangs a dark curtain before the 
 brightness of future days. And yet, because it 
 
CHILD-LIFE. 85 
 
 is so trifling an affair to you, you turn coldly 
 away from the little grieved soul, to whom the 
 sorrow seems intolerable. O, remember that 
 the dear children need sympathy, just as much 
 as you do when great waves of anguish sweep 
 over your soul; and when the sympathy of 
 friends comes into your heart it is balm to the 
 wounds and healing to the sorrows. 
 
 I have somewhere read a story, in which is 
 a lesson of value to parents and teachers. One 
 of the Roman kings, in pursuing some of his 
 military schemes, had occasion to cross the 
 Adriatic Sea. No other opportunity occurring, 
 he hired a simple boatman to row him across. 
 In the midst of the sea a storm arose, and the 
 boatman was alarmed, and relaxed his efforts. 
 But the future emperor of Rome cried out, 
 11 Courage, my man, courage! you carry Caesar 
 and his fortunes." 
 
 O father, mother, teacher in the Sunday or 
 day school, do you ever yield to discourage- 
 ments because of the obstacles that surround 
 you? Do not forget that in the mind of your 
 child or pupil there is more than the fortunes 
 of Caesar. That little spirit is destined to live 
 on and on, through all the years of God ! Your 
 hand and voice are giving direction to a soul 
 which is to outlast twinkling star or blazing 
 
86 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 sun. The mother molds the child; her hand 
 shapes its destiny. 
 
 " Like wax, she can mold it in the form she will; 
 What she writes on the tablet remains there still. 
 And an angel's work is not more high 
 Than aiding to form one's destiny." 
 
 The great mistake of the world has been that 
 the child has been too much overlooked and 
 undervalued. There is a strong tendency in 
 human nature generally to overlook little things, 
 forgetting that law of the universe, that great 
 things are made up of these. The grass, which 
 carpets the earth in beauty, does not come 
 forth in a moment by some fiat of the Creator; 
 but it rises to the surface as gently as the com- 
 ing of the morning — it comes up, blade by 
 blade, till the hill-tops grow green in the soft 
 Spring air, and the meadow smiles in verdant 
 beauty. The rain, by which God brings the 
 harvest, does not fall in a deluge upon the 
 the thirsty ground; but drop by drop it comes 
 on the mountain and valley, till the dry land 
 becomes a pool, and in the desert there are 
 springs of water. The great mountains, whose 
 summits arrest the clouds in their course, have 
 been built up grain by grain, and rock by rock, 
 O, these little things ! The nerve in the tooth, 
 which is almost microscopic in its minuteness, 
 
CHILD-LIFE. 87 
 
 can yet cause your whole body to quiver with 
 pain. So the mind of the child expands, little 
 by little. Day added to day makes up life, 
 pulse-throb by pulse-throb, we reach our three- 
 score years and ten. 
 
 Patience. 
 
 The little child needs your patient care. 
 Patience is one of the cardinal virtues of the 
 household, and your little blue-eyed boy has 
 been sent down to develop in you that virtue. 
 The little fellow annoys you sometimes by his 
 efforts to "live and learn." He wants to know 
 what this strange world means, what it is for, 
 and how to manage it. It looks pretty large in 
 his little eyes ; but there is a feeling in his 
 baby-breast that he is equal to the emergency, 
 and if he can have fair play he will master the 
 situation, or die in the attempt. He does not 
 mean to torment you, weary mother, but he 
 does, or you make torment out of it; just as 
 Christian people sometimes convert mere trials 
 over into temptations, and that which God 
 meant as a blessing becomes a curse. No; he 
 does not even mean to try you. It is his way, 
 that is all. He wakes you up before daybreak 
 by jumping and frolicking; he wants to be 
 dressed, and ready for business. He is afraid 
 
88 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 the world will not go on right unless he looks 
 after things himself. He thinks every thing 
 in the universe was made for him, and he is 
 about right. He wants something to eat, and 
 can not wait very patiently for the clock hands 
 to get round to a certain mark on the dial- 
 plate; and then, before grace is half said, he 
 utters an emphatic "Amen," to hurry up mat- 
 ters. He gets his hands into the batter, and 
 then wipes then! on his bib or your dress, 
 whichever is most convenient. Your head 
 aches, but his does not; and he is so hungry! 
 He eats, and then starts out contentedly on a 
 voyage of discovery. He finds your work- 
 basket, which to him is a perfect curiosity-shop. 
 He pushes your needles away down into the 
 cushion, where neither he nor you can find 
 them. He is studying the interior of the thing, 
 taking his first lesson in geology. He unwinds 
 your spools, and gets tangled in the threads. 
 These tangled threads may be a prophecy of his 
 future calling, when, as some great and learned 
 divine, he may be called upon to unravel the 
 tangled threads of theology. There are the 
 the sharp, bright scissors, which he drops down 
 into the register, greatly delighted to hear them 
 go rattling away down the tin pipes. Your 
 thimble he throws out of the window; the 
 
CHILD-LIFE. 89 
 
 button-box he empties on the floor, and get- 
 ting down among them, fills his hands with 
 the curious things, and wonders and wonders 
 where they all came from, and who was so 
 good as to make all these things for his 
 amusement. 
 
 All this is trying to the mother's patience; 
 but it is just the way the dear boy learns that 
 a woman's work-basket generally has in it only 
 a few select articles, and that they lie there in 
 the most orderly manner! This is the process 
 by which he learns that the inside of a pin- 
 cushion is usually full of needles ! and that 
 every body, even a mischievous child, may get 
 tangled with the affairs of this world sometimes. 
 He learns in this way that the register-pipe is a 
 good receptacle for scissors; for then he knows 
 just where they are, and it will not be necessary 
 for mamma to hunt a whole forenoon for them. 
 When he threw the thimble out of the window 
 and saw it roll away, he got his first lesson 
 in distance and gravitation; while the button- 
 box could only serve to impress him with the 
 simplicity of the age into which he is happily 
 born; 
 
 He must be active every moment, when he 
 is awake. If he does not obey this dictum of 
 his nature he will die, or lapse into idiocy. 
 
9<3 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 Now, you have three things to do. Study his 
 nature, direct his activities into the right chan- 
 nel, and bear with him. Some one has said: 
 "If you put your child into a room full of 
 ordinary matters, and do not give him an 
 abundant supply of things which are his own, 
 you need no more marvel that he should be 
 mischievously busy, in touching what he ought 
 not, than that he should eat what he ought not, 
 when he is hungry, and you put him where he 
 can get only improper viands." 
 
 Let the dear boy die, and then, as you look 
 back upon his young life, you will wonder that 
 you were ever impatient. Could you have him 
 back again, to press once more to your heart, 
 you would willingly suffer any thing for his 
 sake. But he is gone, and, a bright cherub, he 
 is safe inside the gates of heaven. 
 
 " Sweet, laughing child! The cottage-door 
 
 Stands free and open now; 
 But O, its sunshine gilds no more 
 
 The gladness of thy brow. 
 Thy merry step hath passed away ; 
 Thy laughing sport is hushed for aye. 
 
 Thy mother by the fireside sits, 
 
 And listens for thy call; 
 And slowly, slowly, as she knits, 
 
 Her quiet tear-drops fall. 
 Her little hindering thing is gone, 
 And undisturbed she may work on." 
 
CHILD-LIFE. 91 
 
 Courage. 
 
 People often seem to forget that children are 
 timid. Some are more so than others, it is 
 true. The child is generally conscious of its 
 weakness and need of support. But the mis- 
 take is often made of driving the little one to 
 obedience by exciting its fears, telling it stories 
 of ' l ghosts " and 4 ' hobgoblins ' ' and ' ' black- 
 man.'' Charles Lamb puts on record the testi- 
 mony that his whole life was marred by the 
 foolish stories told him about ghosts and witches 
 when he was a child. He says: "The nirfit- 
 time solitude and the dark were my hell. I 
 never laid my head on my pillow, I suppose, 
 from the fourth to the seventh year of my age, 
 so far as my memory serves things so long ago, 
 without an assurance which realized its own 
 prophecy of seeing some frightful specter.'' 
 A similar experience had Jean Paul Richter. 
 "From hearing ghost-stories around the fire- 
 side," he says, "I went to bed, and lay with 
 my head under the bedclothes, in a cold agony 
 of fear of ghosts, and saw in the darkness the 
 lightning from the cloudy heaven of spirits, and 
 it seemed to me that man himself was spun 
 round by spirit-worms." 
 
 Fear may be pushed so far in the mind of 
 
92 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 a child as to unsettle reason, and drive it into 
 idiocy. The wild shriek may be prolonged 
 through all the years of its life. An eminent 
 writer says: "Fear enfeebles and distorts the 
 understanding more than all the other emotions 
 of the mind; but terror, which is sudden or in- 
 tensified fear, for the time paralyzes the under- 
 standing, and may even annihilate it altogether. 
 One shock of terror may produce a state of 
 mind which is ever afterward susceptible of the 
 same agony; and from such a time fear is never 
 absent." 
 
 It is a sad spectacle, in either the school or 
 family, to see a timid child tormented with 
 threats of punishment. And yet it is no un- 
 common thing for the little, bashful, distrustful 
 child to be called up to recite a lesson, or do 
 some other duty, and for it to be so overcome 
 with a dread fear of the rod that its little frame 
 will be shaken with nervous tremors. When 
 children are timid, their fears must be dealt 
 with in a cheerful manner. The child needs 
 assurance, which comes from without and is 
 based on experience. We protect our young 
 trees from the winds by proper supports; but 
 the tender children of our households are ex- 
 pected to grow up against innumerable odds, 
 and come out safely at last. O, if people only 
 
CHILD-LIFE. 93 
 
 understood the children, what sin and wretched- 
 ness this world might be spared! 
 
 The very best remedy for timidity in the 
 child's mind is knowledge. Ignorant people 
 are generally cowardly, because they are super- 
 stitious. To cure your boy of " being afraid in 
 the dark," do not put hickory on his back, but 
 put knowledge into his head. A good book on 
 science or history will infuse more courage of 
 the genuine sort into a boy's mind than all the 
 rattans in the world. 
 
 Then there is the detestable practice of 
 scolding, which is quite too common. You 
 may as well expect to improve the growth of a 
 rose-bush by throwing stones at it as to bring 
 up a child properly under the influence of a 
 scolding tongue. If you want your children to 
 be disregardful of what you say, just open your 
 mouth like a hydrant, and let a stream of scold- 
 ing run on their ears continually. The very 
 best way to irritate the nerves, sour the temper, 
 and make your child thoroughly hate home and 
 you, is to scold it frequently; the surest way to 
 make it bad is to scold it. We should talk to 
 our children, and thus cultivate their reasoning 
 powers. Thus may we make them an orna- 
 ment to us, and a blessing to the world. 
 
 Mothers, I speak to you particularly; for the 
 
94 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 destiny of the child is largely in your hands. 
 Richter says, "Miserable indeed is the man for 
 whom his own mother has not made all other 
 mothers venerable." Your life should be such 
 that in after years your child can point to no 
 word or act not becoming the relation you 
 sustain. Thus will your memory be most 
 precious. 
 
 " O heart, that fainteth underneath thy load 
 Of toil and care, along life's rugged road, 
 List to the gentle music, soft and sweet, 
 The music of the restless pattering feet. 
 5 T is thine to lead them into pathways bright, 
 *T is thine to guide the little feet aright : 
 So let thy weary heart find sweet repose, 
 Thy toil and anxious care the Father knows." 
 
 There is nothing on earth so beautiful as the 
 household on which love forever smiles, and 
 where religion walks, a counselor and friend. 
 No cloud can darken it; for its twin stars are 
 centered in the soul. No storm can make it 
 tremble; for it has a heavenly support and a 
 heavenly anchorage. The home circle that is 
 surrounded by such influences comes nearest 
 the joys of heaven of any in this world. 
 
 If the mother has the responsibility, hers is 
 also the deep joy of maternity, the bliss of 
 giving to the world an immortal. 
 
 Children ! They are a sacred happiness. 
 
CHILD-LIFE. 95 
 
 What gentle influences they shed! Their un- 
 conscious smiles and sweet tenderness have won 
 many a soul from sin, and cheered many a 
 despairing heart in life's rough journey. The 
 only bright spot in the life of many a miserable, 
 neglected, and ill-treated wife is her child. Its 
 sweet presence is a daily benediction on her 
 heart. The cloud that settles about her dwell- 
 ing is spanned by this one beautiful rainbow. 
 On that otherwise darkened soul this watch- 
 light ever burns.; and they who would tear from 
 a mother's throbbing breast the child of her 
 love commit by that act a horrid blasphemy 
 against nature, and do violence to God's own 
 decrees, by lifting away from that heart the 
 consecrated instruments of its power. 
 
 Then make your child's life bright and 
 joyous; consecrate it to the service of God, 
 and ever give it the stimulus of a noble and 
 pure example. 
 
>ph-§uHuip t 
 
" I SAW a tiny plant, in tender green, 
 
 Grow, leaf by leaf, till, robed in velvet sheen, 
 From out its heart there burst a blossom fair, 
 That shed its fragrance on the Summer air. 
 
 I saw a child, that by its mother knelt, 
 
 And prayed, 'Our Father.' Then and there it felt 
 
 The precious kindlings of a mighty love, 
 
 That drew its dawning infant thoughts above. 
 
 And one by one they went, the golden years; 
 The mother's spirit fled to radiant spheres; 
 But, with glad banner of the Cross unfurled, 
 Her child went forth a man, to bless the world." 
 
 
CJl^ild- dulttufe. 
 
 F the child is, what I have stated it 
 cJLf to be in the preceding chapter, an 
 embodiment of all the affections and 
 powers of the adult, existing in an unde- 
 veloped, but developing, stage, character- 
 ized by tenderness, sensitiveness, impress- 
 ibility, then the question of its culture is 
 one easily solved. It is the simplest 
 problem before the mind of the Christian 
 world this day. 
 
 I admit there is more to do in the 
 training of a child than in the training of 
 the little tree in the garden. The tree is pass- 
 ive in your hands — the child is active. But 
 then the tree, on the other hand, can do noth- 
 ing for itself — the child can do so much. The 
 tree is shaped by the laws of vegetable life, 
 has no will — no conscience. The child has a 
 
 99 
 
 A 
 
100 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 life of its own, and this life is exhibited in its 
 will and its conscience. 
 
 But, I say, the question of child-culture is a 
 simple one. I do not mean by this that the 
 child is simple. I should say, rather, its psy- 
 chological organism is complex, but simple in a 
 sense, because it can be understood by us; for 
 we ourselves have been children, and know of 
 the thoughts and feelings of childhood by our 
 own experience. The most complex piece of 
 machinery may be very simple to the practical 
 mechanic, because he has studied its mechan- 
 ism, though very complex to others. Each plant 
 in the greenhouse, while obeying the general 
 laws of vegetable growth, yet has a nature pecul- 
 iar to itself, and needs care and culture accord- 
 ingly. So must every individual child be studied. 
 For example: some children need to be held 
 back; their brains are too active, the nervous 
 force is expended too rapidly. The brain liter- 
 ally consumes the body. Send such a child off 
 into the country, away into quiet, and let its 
 brain rest and its body grow strong. Take a 
 plant out of the greenhouse into the field, and 
 in less than a week it will begin to put on a 
 different kind of growth and verdure. And 
 what is true of a plant is equally true of a 
 child. Take one of your sickly girls from the 
 
CHILD-CULTURE. 101 
 
 crowded city in August, and let her climb the 
 hills and roam through the valleys, and she will 
 soon become as sprightly as a deer, and as 
 fresh and rosy as June. Some one has said 
 that a dose of good country air is better than 
 all the medicines in the world. 
 
 The characteristic of another child is its 
 acute sensitiveness. It will droop under a sharp 
 word, like a delicate plant before a blazing fire. 
 Another child is obstinate, and will be satisfied 
 only w r hen carrying out its own will. 
 
 Some children are naturally frolicsome. They 
 go bounding about like rubber-balls, upsetting 
 some things and breaking others, and teasing 
 every body with whom th£y come in contact. 
 Then there are the dull children, whose minds 
 expand slowly. But give them time, and deal 
 with them carefully — the mind that unfolds 
 slowly may yet open and be brilliant. We are 
 told in classic story of one Herodes, who, to 
 overcome the extraordinary dullness of his son 
 Atticus, educated along with him twenty-four 
 little slaves of his own age, upon whom he 
 bestowed the names of the Greek letters, so 
 that young Atticus might be compelled to learn 
 the alphabet as he played with his comrades. 
 
 But all children are not really dull who may 
 seem to be so. The mind machinery is all 
 
102 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 there, but in partial repose. And then, again, 
 there is often a sub-current in the mind, not 
 obvious to the gaze of the world: 
 
 " The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below 
 The surface that sparkles above." 
 
 But what if your child does seem to be dull ? 
 I have seen it stated that Sir Isaac Newton, 
 whose name is associated with the constella- 
 tions, the discoverer of gravitation, was a dull 
 boy. Sheridan, the orator and statesman, was 
 pronounced by his teachers an " incorrigible 
 dunce." His mother — and a* mother generally 
 looks upon her child with a feeling of charity — 
 said he was "the most stupid of all her sons." 
 Goldsmith, Shakespeare, Gibbon, and Dryden 
 were all of them of an inferior standard of intel- 
 ligence in their boyhood. When Berzelius, the 
 great Swedish chemist, left the preparatory 
 school for the university, he went bearing the 
 credentials, "Indifferent in behavior, and of 
 doubtful hope;" and when he was nineteen 
 years old he was taunted by his classmates with 
 the question whether he understood the differ- 
 ence between a laboratory and a kitchen. Sir 
 Walter Scott had the unenviable reputation of 
 owning the thickest skull in the school which 
 he attended when a child. Milton and Swift 
 
CHILD-CULTURE. 1 03 
 
 • 
 are said to have been dull boys. The celebrated 
 divines, Scott and Clarke, who have won fame 
 the world over for their learned commentaries 
 on the Scriptures, were pronounced positively 
 stupid in their youth, and were looked upon by 
 their parents with but little hope for the future. 
 
 The fireside is the child's first seminary, and 
 is of infinite importance in its life. It is the 
 universal school of infancy; and the education 
 there received is woven in with the very woof 
 of its being, and gives form and color to the 
 texture of its whole after-life. 
 
 And, furthermore, you can not tell just what 
 your dear child may become. With what an 
 utter disregard of what the world calls wealth, or 
 position in society, our Heavenly Father scatters 
 the priceless gifts of genius among his children! 
 The great poet or preacher, the illustrious 
 statesman or scientist, senator or President, is 
 as likely to go forth from the humble dwelling 
 of the day-laborer across the way as from the 
 princely palaces of wealth and fashion. He who 
 shall wear upon his brow a nation's honors, he 
 whose voice shall hold and sway tens of thou- 
 sands of his kind, may this day be unconsciously 
 digging in some field, unnoticed and unknown by 
 the great world. In your own quiet and simple 
 home, in your Sunday-school class, dear teacher. 
 
104 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 is some little boy, who may one day be a great 
 and powerful man, whose words and deeds shall 
 affect the destiny of millions of his race. 
 Mother, teacher, is there any stimulus to your 
 heart in that thought? 
 
 But that is not all. I do not approve of 
 telling boys in the Sunday-school that they 
 should be wise and good, for some of them may 
 be called to positions of honor, such as Gov- 
 ernor or President. This is a deplorable mis- 
 take. There are higher inducements than that 
 to be good. Teach the boy to be a wise and 
 good man, whether it be stone-mason, merchant, 
 President, or any thing else. 
 
 " Honor and shame from no condition rise; 
 Act well your part — there all the honor lies." 
 
 The real object of our education is to give 
 the young mind resources that will endure as 
 long as life endures, to establish habits of 
 thought and action that will run through its 
 whole being. Education that will render sick- 
 ness tolerable, solitude pleasant, and life itself 
 dignified and useful, is the kind to be sought. 
 No other culture is in accordance with the na- 
 ture and demands of human existence. The 
 education of the ball-room, "the last new 
 novel" — the world, in short — will not do this, 
 
CHILD-CULTURE. 105 
 
 because it does not meet the inevitable facts in 
 the life of man. 
 
 In all religious training, the child should ever 
 be taught the difference between a mere out- 
 ward form of goodness and the genuine thing 
 itself. A child that hears its mother tell her 
 callers she is so glad to see them, and then, 
 when they are well out of the gate, hears her 
 say that she was annoyed with them; the boy 
 who hears his father boast of how he took advan- 
 tage of a neighbor in a bargain; children who 
 hear their parents tell in prayer-meeting how 
 much they love God, and then never hear a 
 word addressed to him in prayer, or about him 
 in conversation, at home, from one week to an- 
 other — who in meeting talk of going to heaven, 
 and then all through the week plunge deeper 
 and deeper into the world, — such children have 
 but little to encourage them in the development 
 of real heart -goodness. That they perceive 
 these inconsistencies, when they exist, is very 
 certain. 
 
 Real goodness is in the heart, or it has no 
 substance. It can not be counterfeited success- 
 fully. The culture of the little child must em- 
 brace this. It must be taught to be unselfish, 
 generous, self-sacrificing, not for the purpose of 
 winning applause, but because it is right to be 
 
106 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 so. I am reminded of an Oriental tale, told by 
 Lord Bacon, where a cat was changed into a 
 lady, and behaved very lady-like, until a mouse 
 ran through the room, when she sprang down 
 upon her hands and chased it. So with chil- 
 dren; if their goodness is only an outward 
 thing, when temptations come they will down 
 and follow them. Give them right notions and 
 sound principles, and they will be firm. In 
 after-life the waves of affliction or sin may beat 
 around them, but they will stand serene amid 
 them all, 
 
 " Firm as the surge-repelling rock." 
 
 It must be remembered that parental love 
 does not preclude correction. The tenderest 
 love may find expression in the rod — the rod as 
 a last resort, however. The parent who will 
 allow a child to drift off into wrong, without 
 correction, is doing an injury which time can not 
 repair. "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, 
 and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth. ,, 
 The child that the parent truly loves should be 
 corrected, if correction is needed. Government 
 is an absolute necessity, and no family should 
 be allowed to grow up in disregard of it. The 
 young mind must be taught law and order as a 
 first requisite. 
 
 Let the child be left unrestrained, undisci- 
 
CHILD-CULTURE. 107 
 
 plined, and yet be surrounded by all manner of 
 inducements to bad living. Let it grow up 
 thus, fall into evil ways, commit criminal acts, 
 and in process of time land in jail, then our 
 concern for it begins; then we begin to talk 
 about its training and discipline. But it is too 
 late. The habits have become fixed, the char- 
 acter is formed, the criminal has been made, 
 and reform is now at least doubtful. A man 
 can not live his life backward. O, this letting a 
 child get well under way toward absolute ruin 
 before you take any decided steps to bring him 
 up right! There is where so many fail. Many 
 a parent has cried out, in bitterness of soul, 
 "O, that I had begun earlier!" 
 
 Then, I say, begin earlier to shape the young 
 tree in your nursery into usefulness and beauty. 
 Remember that every day which passes by ren- 
 ders the chances of success less and less. Life 
 can not be unlived, nor can habits once formed 
 be easily uprooted. 
 
 ;< Too late ! The curse of life ! Could we but rend 
 The thoughts that ever bleed, 
 How oft are found, 
 Engraven deep, those words of saddest sound, 
 Curse of our mortal State; 
 Too late ! Too late !" 
 
 "Father," said an Indian chief to a mission- 
 ary who had come among them, "You will find 
 
108 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 among us many old men, like myself, whose 
 opinions are too confirmed to be changed. 
 They will assent to almost any view you may 
 advance ; but, when done, will remain unchanged 
 at heart. Do not waste your time on such. 
 But here are our children. Their minds are 
 young and tender, and will receive any impres- 
 sion you may wish to make upon them. Take 
 them, and raise them as you think best." 
 
 Dear parent, that bright-eyed boy, on whom 
 you are bestowing your affections and lavishing 
 your money, may either be a blessing or a curse 
 to the world. He will be true or false; an 
 honest man, moral, upright, and good, or given 
 over to vice and its resulting degradation. Your 
 sweet girl may *be wrapped about with the 
 beautiful mantle of innocence and virtue; or, 
 vicious and depraved, will realize from whence 
 she has fallen, and then her words may be : 
 
 " Once I was pure as the snow; but I fell, 
 Fell like the snow-flakes, from heaven to hell ; 
 Fell, to he trampled as filth of the street; 
 Fell, to be scoffed, to be spit on, and beat ; 
 Pleading, cursing, dreading to die, 
 Selling my soul to whoever would buy, 
 Dealing in shame for a morsel of bread ; 
 Hating the living, and fearing the dead. 
 Merciful God ! Have I fallen so low ? 
 And yet I was once like the beautiful snow." 
 
CHILD-CULTURE. IO9 
 
 Which of these shall be the fate of your 
 child ? Time alone can. give the answer. This 
 I do know, however: much depends upon the 
 early training you bestow. These little be- 
 ginnings of wrong in our children must be 
 watched most carefully : for on them depends 
 all the great future of their lives. 
 
 The displacement of a little iron bolt no 
 larger than your thumb may wreck a train of 
 cars, and hang crape on a hundred doors. So a 
 word spoken to your child at a proper time, 
 and in a right manner, may save it from ruin 
 of soul and body in after years. 
 
 A child starts from its mother's door and 
 takes a few steps along the busy street, noticing 
 the many objects which attract its attention, 
 until it falls into the drifting current of human- 
 ity, and, borne onward, is soon lost to its home 
 and its mother. It was charmed into forgetful- 
 ness by the many strange and beautiful sights 
 which met its gaze, and the many sounds that 
 fell on its ear. Thus many a youth ventures 
 away from the home of virtue, out into the 
 world of evil, and soon finds himself charmed 
 and bewildered with enchanting scenes, crowded 
 forward amid the bustling throng of humanity, 
 with the certain doom of God's judgment 
 hanging over him. 
 
I IO INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 These, when once fully embarked in their 
 downward career, are forever clamoring to be 
 let alone — they do not wish to be interrupted in 
 their course of folly. "There is a way which 
 seemeth right unto them, but the end thereof 
 are the ways of death/ ' 
 
 Lay your hand gently on the shoulder of 
 that thoughtless young man, and that equally 
 thoughtless young woman, in the ball-room; 
 say to them, "This is but a flowery path to 
 ruin;" and they will often turn upon you with 
 the bitterest invective; they will charge you 
 with interfering with their private rights. The 
 way they have chosen "seemeth right unto 
 them." 
 
 Go into yonder gilded saloon, and speak to 
 that young man, as he raises the glass to his 
 lips, and whisper to him: "Look not upon the 
 wine when it is red;" "Touch not, taste not, 
 handle not;" and he will be likely to revile you, 
 and call .you a bigot and a meddlesome body. 
 
 Go, stand at the door of the play-house, 
 where are congregated the real pleasure-loving; 
 tell them, as they enter, that their course is 
 wrong, and that time thus spent is worse than 
 wasted, and they will laugh you to scorn, and 
 call you a fool. 
 
 Go, place yourself by that dark passage-way, 
 
CHILD-CULTURE. 1 1 1 
 
 that carries a multitude down into the cellar, 
 where all the night long the dice clatter and the 
 cards are shuffled and the hard earnings are 
 wasted. Tell these men they are going straight 
 to destruction, and then beseech them, with the 
 utmost tenderness, to turn away from the 
 haunts of vice and come to the house of 
 prayer, and they may heap curses on you. Not 
 all will do this. Some will be touched, and can 
 be thus won, even from the lowest degradation 
 into which sin has plunged them. 
 
 " Some word may lift the shadow from the past, 
 So long by sin and bitter shame o'ercast, 
 And show in early life some sunny spot 
 Where still a mother's prayers are imforgot." 
 
 But the cry of the amusement-loving world is, 
 "Let us alone." 
 
 God's prophets, in the olden times, were 
 always a trouble to evil-doers. None are so 
 blind as those whom sin hath blinded. The 
 wandering child is lost because it moves on 
 thoughtlessly with the crowd, — so our young 
 men and women press onward with the multi- 
 tude whose feet are swift to destruction. 
 
 It is always safe for us to make the certain- 
 ties of life govern the uncertainties. We ought 
 to prepare for w r hat we know it will be our lot 
 to pass through. While we can imagine a 
 
112 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 thousand things which may or may not happen 
 in our lives, there are yet some things which 
 must occur. We must die. No one pleads 
 ignorance of this. Therefore, in view of death, 
 how ought we to live? If you were doomed to 
 die next week, and your child were standing by 
 your side, to receive words of counsel that 
 should govern and shape its future life, would 
 you advise that child to follow a course of 
 crime? Surely, you would not. Would you, 
 then, advise it to engage in. whatever in your 
 judgment would lead to crime? Most assuredly 
 not. You would not admonish it to be miserly 
 or selfish, for these would make it unhappy. If, 
 then, theater-going, dancing, card-playing, and the 
 like, are allurements to crime, is it safe in any 
 case to encourage them? And who denies that 
 these things do lead to vice ? There is not one 
 who reads this, who would not most solemnly 
 counsel prayer, faith in God, holiness, and all 
 other gifts and graces which are taught in 
 Holy Writ. 
 
 It is proper here for me to allude to a com- 
 mon sin, that of gambling. There are some 
 games that do not lead to gambling, while 
 others do. I mention it, because your child must 
 meet the temptation, sooner or later. Gambling 
 does not often begin in the professional hall. 
 
CHILD-CULTURE. 1 1 3 
 
 Its beginning is in the misapprehension of a 
 moral principle. It is said that all error is per- 
 verted truth. So the innocent sport of child- 
 hood may be carried over to the side of wrong. 
 Let two boys of tender years, in their playful 
 mood, win from each other marbles in their 
 game. Your brave boy, flushed with his vic- 
 tory, comes home to tell you of it. You take 
 no notice of it, or you dismiss it from your 
 mind as only a boyish prank, quite indicative 
 of his skill and smartness. 
 
 Suppose that boy had come home and shown 
 you a penny, which he had stolen from a play- 
 mate or from some one's money-drawer — only a 
 penny I but how shocked your feelings would 
 be ! You would weep over him bitter tears, 
 quite as bitter as though he had stolen a larger 
 sum ; for the amount of property involved is 
 not the question in your mind, but the fact 
 simply that your child has been guilty of theft. 
 
 Now, these boys are soon to be men, and 
 they are even now laying the foundations of 
 their future manhood, "The child is father of 
 the man." The seed of morality or immorality 
 is being sown in the heart-soil, and out of the 
 heart proceed the issues of life. 
 
 Then, these playful children are learning a 
 lesson of wrong; for it is as wrong to gamble 
 
1 14 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 on a small scale as on a large one; it is as 
 wrong for a boy to win a marble, and keep it 
 as property acquired in the game, as for the 
 professional gambler to fleece his verdant victim 
 out of a thousand dollars at a faro-bank. It is 
 the principle, not the quantity of property, with 
 which we have to do. I have known Christian 
 people to defend these simple winnings because 
 of their littleness, not seeing how easy it is to 
 warp the moral judgment of childhood, blunt 
 its moral sensibilities, and lay the foundations 
 of moral ruin, by thus giving it an impetus in 
 the direction of professional gambling, starting 
 the soul on a career that may end in a prison- 
 cell or on the gallows. 
 
 At the very threshold of your child's life, 
 teach it moral principle; for this determines its 
 usefulness and happiness in after-life. . 
 
 " A pebble in the streamlet scant 
 
 Has changed the course of many a river ; 
 The dew-drop on the baby-plant 
 Has warped the giant oak forever." 
 
 Two young men sit down to a game of cards, 
 to while away the evening hours. At first they 
 do not bet; but soon the interest flags. They 
 then playfully wager a supper, or a sleigh-ride, 
 or a bottle of wine, or something else. This 
 seems quite innocent to them; but they have 
 
CHILD-CULTURE. 1 1 5 
 
 now started on the road to ruin. First, a so- 
 called innocent game, then a simple bet, then 
 more earnest playing and deeper betting, con- 
 tinued from evening to evening, from week to 
 week, and month to month. Do they lose? it 
 only makes them the more determined to win 
 in the next game, and they play on. Winning 
 stimulates the desire to win more, and gain 
 larger sums. The morals are now fast degener- 
 ating; the sense of right is becoming extinct. 
 Conscience is being "seared over, as with a hot 
 iron/' The hours which should be spent in 
 the company of the good, in reading books 
 that enrich the mind with thought, or in peace- 
 ful slumbers are devoted to the card-table and 
 its kindred evils. 
 
 Many a young man has squandered the 
 money of an employer, and gone to ruin, 
 through the enticements of the gambling-table. 
 A young man loses in this process, and becomes 
 maddened, and then drinks to obliterate the sad 
 recollections, and again plunges into vice, until 
 character and all he should hold dear lie in 
 hopeless ruin. You may see him in the prison, 
 as he paces the narrow limits of his cell. The 
 memory of all the past crowds upon his mind ; 
 visions of other days are before him, when he 
 was respected, loved, and honored. He looks 
 
1 1 6 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 wildly at you. Ask him the cause, he will tell 
 you, the card-table, the wine-cup, and a lack of 
 proper discipline in his childhood — these have 
 sent him down. 
 
 But there is a young woman, the pride of 
 some cheerful home, in whose face is the light 
 of hope, and in whose step is the buoyancy of 
 youth. She wins, by her purity and grace, 
 some noble young man, whose life, like her 
 own, is full of promise. The spell of love 
 comes over them, and locks their two hearts 
 into one. They enter upon life's journey, hand 
 in hand. If they are careful, they may avoid 
 the quicksands and dangerous places; but if 
 not, their way will soon turn from the enchanted 
 ground, where all is beauty and joy, to the 
 deserts, where the air is heavy with poisonous 
 vapors, and the deep caverns and fearful steeps 
 make life a hard and joyless road. 
 
 They make a mistake. On New- Year's Day 
 she puts on her table a bottle of wine; he 
 makes the mistake of drinking it. To add to 
 the interest of their meetings, they play at 
 cards. They do not bet, nor drink, nor revel, 
 nor profane; but it becomes a habit with them. 
 She watches him with her love, and says to 
 herself, "If he strays, I will win him back 
 again;" or she thinks one so noble as he can 
 
CHILD-CULTURE. 1 1 7 
 
 not do wrong. How little of human nature 
 does she know! He too feels strong in his 
 manliness, and boasts of his mastery over him- 
 self. Time passes away, ten or twenty years, 
 and O how sad ! Years of hopes blighted ; 
 years when the dense clouds of sorrow rarely 
 parted for the sunlight of joy to gleam through 
 them, only leaving the darkness and gloom the 
 more impenetrable. O, those terrible years! 
 How heavily they have dragged! What days 
 of anguish! What nights of grief! What a 
 strange, sad story they tell ! 
 
 There sits, by her window yonder, a desolate 
 woman. The fire that once flashed in her lus- 
 trous eye has gone out. The flush on her 
 cheek, that once vied in beauty with the rose, 
 has faded away. That voice, once so musical, 
 only sings its plaintive song of grief. That 
 step, once so elastic, is slow and measured. 
 The past is unforgotten ; the love, the hope, the 
 promise, are yet all fresh in the mind. The 
 manly step, the vow of fidelity, can not be 
 lost in the dream-land of forgetfulness ; nor can 
 the bridal day, the congratulations of friends, 
 and the few first years of wedded life ever fade 
 out of the recollection. They remain there, a 
 panorama of heaven hung up in hell ! 
 
 Where is that .once beautiful and happy girl? 
 
Il8 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 There she sits, pale, wan, haggard, and hope- 
 less. And where is he who vowed to be true 
 until death ? Go, at the hour of midnight, to 
 some drinking and gambling den, and you will 
 find him there, "wasting his substance in 
 riotous living." 
 
 Say not, the picture is overdrawn. Such 
 instances are innumerable. 
 
 Then, parent and teacher, take some of your 
 most precious time to your most precious work. 
 The most important mission of your life is to 
 save the child from its perils. You may have 
 fewer acres of land, fewer stocks and bonds; 
 but that matters nothing. You will be far hap- 
 pier while you do live, and far richer in your 
 dying hour, if you have the consciousness ever 
 of having done your duty by your children. 
 
fo |p#®J Tjjiupa^ 
 
" My fairest child, I have no song to give you; 
 No lark could pi]3e to skies so dull and gray ; 
 Yet ere we part one lesson I can leave you, 
 
 For every day : 
 Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; 
 Do noble things — not dream them all day long; 
 And so make life, death, and that vast forever, 
 
 One grand, sweet song." 
 
 " There is a land, of every land the pride, 
 Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside, 
 Where brighter suns dispense serener light, 
 And milder moons imparadise the night ; 
 A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth, 
 Time-tutored age, and love-exalted youth. 
 
 'Where shall that land, that spot of earth, be found?' 
 Art thou a man ? a patriot ? Look around ! 
 O, thou shalt .find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, 
 That land thy country, and that spot thy home." 
 
 
VI. 
 
 ¥l\e $-pifittikl ]\ftif£efy. 
 
 ET us now turn and look at this 
 «*&/{ question of childhood and its cul- 
 ^ff ture in a still broader light. 
 
 I admit that the first thing to be con- 
 sidered in the matter is the safety and 
 peace of the child — its personal salvation 
 from sin and death ; the next thing is 
 to make it useful to the world morally. 
 The Church, society, the State, the world, 
 all have claims upon us, and upon our 
 children. 
 
 It is one thing to train our young 
 cadet in the military academy w T ith refer- 
 ence to his own personal life, and another to 
 make of him a good army officer; but the two 
 go together. So these children in our families 
 and our schools are to grow up to be common 
 members of society. They are destined to take 
 
 121 
 
122 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 the places of the men and women who are on 
 the stage of life now. I ask, How shall they 
 represent us? Shall the future be more glorious 
 than the past, or shall it be less so? This ques- 
 tion must be answered in one way or another; 
 and the home, the Sunday-school, and the 
 Christian Church must render the answer. 
 
 In looking over the list of institutions which 
 every-where have foothold in civilized society, 
 no one is more prominent than the Sunday- 
 school, as it exists in this nineteenth century. 
 And the importance which attaches to it, from 
 any and every possible stand-point in which it 
 may be viewed, is very great. The influence 
 which it is exerting on the destiny of the world 
 can scarcely be overestimated. 
 
 And this is exactly in harmony with the 
 spirit of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. 
 
 That systematic Sunday-school work did not 
 begin earlier in the history of the Christian 
 Church is quite surprising. Away back in 
 Jewish times provision was made for educating 
 the young in the "statutes and ordinances of 
 the Lord. ,, "And thou shalt teach them dili- 
 gently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them 
 when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou 
 walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, 
 and when thou risest up." (Deut. vi, 7.) If 
 
THE SPIRITUAL NURSERY. 1 23 
 
 so much stress was laid upon child-teaching then, 
 what is demanded of us in the superior light of 
 this Christian age? 
 
 Viewing the Sunday-school as one of the 
 gates within whose sacred inclosure there is 
 safety to the child, I have a few things to say 
 about it. What I may say may not be new; 
 but still it needs to be said. My book would 
 be incomplete without this chapter. 
 
 Sunday-schools began without the least idea 
 on the part of their founder of the magnitude 
 and grandeur of the work then and there inau- 
 gurated. The little rill, which trickles from be- 
 neath the rock on some mountain-side, is not a 
 river; but, if you will follow it in its winding 
 course onward, you will notice that it widens 
 and deepens by virtue of the tributaries which 
 flow into it perpetually, until it becomes a river, 
 mighty in the onsweeping of its waters, a high- 
 way for the commerce of a nation, and on whose 
 banks great cities, with teeming populations, are 
 built. So with the Sunday-school: a few poor, 
 wayward, and neglected children were picked up 
 on the streets of an English city, by a philan- 
 thropic man. They were taken into a room, and 
 instructed in secular as well as moral subjects. 
 
 What would have been the feelings of that 
 good man, Robert Raikes, the recognized 
 
124 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 founder of modern Sunday-schools, could he on 
 that morning have cast his eyes down along the 
 century to follow, and seen the Sabbath-schools 
 as we see them to-day? 
 
 There are some hundreds of thousands of 
 teachers devoting themselves to a work which 
 would fill an angel's mind and stir an angel's 
 heart. The Sunday-school teachers of the 
 world are doing a work which, though to some 
 it may seem quite insignificant, is far outreach- 
 ing in its results, and they are doing it freely, 
 "without money and without price," doing it 
 as a pure labor of love. The number of chil- 
 dren in all of these schools, throughout Chris- 
 tendom, can scarcely be ascertained; but it runs 
 up into the millions. And the day has come 
 when the Sunday-school is recognized as one 
 of the most potent agencies in the make-up 
 of the world's moral force, not to be dispensed 
 with. The first and chief agency employed in 
 the world's conversion is the pulpit. Preaching 
 is the "power of God unto salvation." Next 
 to that, I admit, comes the Sunday-school. The 
 best auxiliary which the pulpit has is the 
 Sunday-school; the real sub-pastors in the 
 Church are the Sunday-school teachers. 
 
 The Sunday-school is not intended to be a 
 place of ordinary secular instruction. Arithmetic, 
 
THE SPIRITUAL NURSERY. 1 2$ 
 
 grammar, geology, and similar studies, are ruled 
 out. The teacher may use any one or all of 
 these sciences to illustrate and enforce the 
 "truth as it is in Jesus;" but all other instruc- 
 tion must be subordinate to the one single study, 
 how to bring the child to the Savior. The 
 Sunday-school is the spiritual nursery of the 
 world. And here let me say that there is a 
 necessity in selecting teachers for the Sunday- 
 school who themselves understand the "way, 
 the truth, and the life," experimentally. The 
 qualifications which fit quite well for teaching in 
 the week-day school are not adequate here. If 
 it be a rightful demand, in these days, that he 
 who preaches shall be one who has a personal 
 experience of the power of Christ to save, not 
 much less, if any, should it be demanded that 
 they who sustain the relation of religious teach- 
 ers to our children shall be living examples of 
 what they teach. Mere secular learning, the 
 scholarship of the schools, is not enough. Sci- 
 ence, language, philosophy, art, without relig- 
 ion, will only make us strong, without making 
 us good. 
 
 The Church of Christ is a spiritual body on 
 earth. The Sunday-school is a component part 
 of the Church, and therefore it is a spiritual 
 organization. It exists to teach the pure Word 
 
126 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 of God, just as certainly as the pulpit exists for 
 that same object. "The world by wisdom knew 
 not God." On this point the world has had 
 ample experience. 
 
 Nations have existed where popular intelli- 
 gence abounded in a high degree, but where 
 true religion was a thing unknown. These na- 
 tions had martial courage, considerable refine- 
 ment, and great wealth: and yet they had no 
 good foundation, on which to rest securely. 
 Let any people be "without hope and without 
 God in the world," and they are wanting in the 
 one essential element of enduring national life. 
 Egypt was once the "cradle of the arts;" to-day 
 it is the most sunken of all the nations. Babylon, 
 once the mighty mistress of the Orient, is gone. 
 Rome carried her proud eagles over the world, 
 a terror to the nations; Greece had her temples 
 and groves, where wise men gathered about 
 them their disciples; but where are all these 
 nations now? It may be said of each one, as it 
 was said of each of the patriarchs, in the brief 
 biography of the Bible, "And he died also." 
 
 I write for Americans, and so wish to impress 
 you somewhat, if I can, with the value of the 
 Sunday-school, as an institution, to our common 
 and beloved land, of which religion and educa- 
 tion are the true foundation. The greatness of 
 
THE SPIRITUAL NURSERY. 1 27 
 
 any country is not to be gauged by the number 
 of its square miles, or the density of its popu- 
 lation. These are undoubtedly elements of 
 greatness; but all can see plainly that there is 
 sometimes weakness in size. A ship may be so 
 large as to be unmanageable ; a building may be 
 so large as to be useless, and fall because it is 
 too lofty. The Continent of Africa is as great 
 in extent as our own, and it contains nearly one 
 hundred millions of people; but in the scale of 
 the nations it weighs nothing. China, with her 
 uncounted hordes, is not to be thought of in 
 comparison with the great Christian nations of 
 the globe. So with Asia generally; its civilization 
 is effete. Whatever glory it may once have had 
 has indeed become dim. And yet these regions 
 are unsurpassed in beauty and natural product- 
 iveness, the real source of national wealth. But 
 the whole is stagnant; moral death reigns; a 
 blight rests on all these lands. They worship 
 gods of their own carving, and they have fallen 
 under the curse of God because of sin. 
 
 The real glory of a nation lies not in its 
 broad acres, not in its millions of people, but in 
 its real men and women; in the virtue, intelli- 
 gence, and religion of its people. 
 
 Turn now, and look at this great country of 
 ours, stretching from ocean to ocean. See these 
 
128 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 extended valleys, these wide-reaching plains, 
 these lofty mountains, these majestic rivers, 
 these beautiful lakes, these vast mines of wealth, 
 this wonderful soil, and these extended forests; 
 and yet all these existed for ages, unknown to 
 the world. Men were here, scattered over all 
 this vast continent, pursuing the wild beast, 
 living in huts, clad in skins; but they were men 
 not much elevated above the beasts they pur- 
 sued in the chase. Had the Chinaman first 
 discovered this new world, and through some 
 golden gateway poured a flood of Chinese pagans 
 upon these shores, then our country would only 
 be a second China. Had some other unchris- 
 tianized people pre-empted the soil of America, 
 and here built their cities and temples, then 
 would this fair land of ours this day be fast 
 bound in chains of moral darkness. But then 
 such unchristian people are not discoverers, in 
 any great sense. Such a people were here 
 once, and the ruins of their temples remain; 
 but they -have passed away. 
 
 I wish to impress upon the Sunday-school 
 worker, and upon the Christian parent, the 
 thought of the grandeur of our mission in this 
 respect; for our work has to do with the foun- 
 dation of the great Republic. Look at Asia, 
 crowded with people. Asia has had her vast 
 
THE SPIRITUAL NURSERY. 1 29 
 
 armies, her renowned generals, her great cities, 
 her philosophy, and her religion. Africa, too, 
 that sunny land, had her cities, her industries, 
 and her philosophies. But neither has had any 
 durable life; they have slept on through the 
 centuries. The China of the present day can 
 not even repair the public works which old 
 China had the skill and power to construct. 
 The tendency of paganism is to crush out the 
 moral life, and so destroy man's real power. 
 
 Western Europe was more progressive. The 
 Anglo-Saxon has always had in his veins, some- 
 how, a livelier blood. He lives in a more in- 
 spiring climate, or the type of his civilization is 
 one which gives greater play to his powers. 
 He has "sought out many inventions;" manu- 
 factured, grown in intellect and heart, and still 
 grows in wealth and power. The Europeans 
 are descendants of Japheth. The Bible says, 
 1 ' God shall enlarge Japheth ; and he shall dwell 
 in the tents of Shem, and Canaan shall be his 
 servant." The statement was not a decree, 
 making the servitude of Canaan right or just; 
 but rather a prophecy of a simple fact of his- 
 tory. Now, in the history of this human dis- 
 tribution, Japheth became the progenitor of all 
 the tribes of Western Europe and Northern 
 Asia, including the Armenians, Medes, Greeks, 
 
 9 
 
130 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 and Thracians. So God has " enlarged Japheth." 
 The Anglo-Saxon race proves it. The Yankee, 
 his descendant, is conquering the world. He 
 is literally "dwelling in the tents of Shem," 
 occupying his cities and his houses, sending his 
 steamships along Asiatic rivers, and making the 
 solitudes of Asiatic plains alive with the scream 
 of the locomotive. Thus is the Scripture 
 fulfilled. 
 
 Europe, up to the time of the discovery of 
 America, had tried almost every form of relig- 
 ion, while every school of philosophy had taught 
 its doctrines. Society was quite godless, so 
 much so that God's best image, man, was 
 crushed to the earth beneath the heel of kingly 
 power. But that discovery was'the dawning of 
 a new day in the world's life. It was like the 
 second advent of Christ to the nations. 
 
 How strange that for so long a time this land 
 of ours should be unknown to the Old World — 
 a land of rich soil, vast rivers, broad lakes, 
 mines of precious and useful metals, so that any 
 vocation could be pursued with profit! The 
 opening of such a door to the crowded popula- 
 tion of the Eastern Continent, blinded by igno- 
 rance and fettered with superstition, was indeed 
 an event of magnitude. It lighted up the hori- 
 zon like a glorious sunrise after a dark night. 
 
THE SPIRITUAL NURSERY. 13 1 
 
 At a time when this continent was most 
 needed, God opened its gateways, and the mill- 
 ions have rushed in to found an empire. Here 
 the great battles of humanity have been fought, 
 and here the mission of the Gospel is to be seen 
 in its greatest power. Nowhere is there a more 
 perfect freedom, and in no place on earth is 
 education more widely diffused. 
 
 It is not enough that we should have wealth 
 and culture, we must have virtue and religion. 
 This is the grand arena where the great moral 
 principles unfolded in the Word of God are to 
 be triumphant over every form of false doctrine 
 and false practice. God is to be loved because 
 he is God, and man to be honored because he 
 is created in the image of God. 
 
 There is danger that we shall become 
 materialists, and recognize no force but that 
 which comes of steam, no wealth but the 
 gold of our coffers. There is an intoxication 
 attending the acquisition of wealth greatly to be 
 dreaded. Men become so eager in the chase 
 that they forget God, and are lost to every 
 noble quality of head and heart. Education is 
 not enough. Knowledge is power, as well for 
 evil as good. We may become a nation of 
 splendid heathens, rich and cultivated, as beau- 
 tiful and as cold as a mountain of ice glittering 
 
132 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 in the sun. Our school-houses are public bless- 
 ings; but without our Churches and Sunday- 
 schools we should be as a ship without a rudder. 
 Above eagle and lion and crescent, the Cross 
 is to be the true heraldic sign of the regener- 
 ated nations. So "the kingdoms of this world 
 shall become the kingdom of our Lord and of 
 
 his Christ." 
 
 The Sunday-school exists as a spiritual nur- 
 sery of young souls, as a feeder to the Church; 
 but that is not all. In this work it affects and 
 influences the nation at large ; yes, and the whole 
 wide world, from equator to pole. To this land 
 they are coming from all the world. We wel- 
 come all, and we must try to save all. In the 
 work of redeeming the world the Sunday-school 
 must play a most important part. They who 
 are to be our future legislators, judges, Presi- 
 dents, poets, ministers, and merchants, are this 
 day in the Sunday-schools of the land. What 
 would we say if schools were established every- 
 where, to teach burglary, counterfeiting, and 
 kindred crimes? O, we should rise up in our 
 might and abolish them forever. How much 
 are we willing to do to sustain schools which 
 teach truth instead of falsehood, virtue in place 
 of vice, and religion instead of irreligion ? Let 
 us not forget that the men who have risen to 
 
THE SPIRITUAL NURSERY. 1 33 
 
 the highest positions in our country have been 
 mostly those who have had the best early moral 
 culture. The hope of the 'world lies largely in 
 the education of the children. Then, by some 
 means, let us draw every child into the Sunday- 
 school that we possibly can. Teach them the 
 principal truths of the Bible. Warn them 
 against the evils which surround them in life. 
 Inspire them with a love of country. Lead 
 them to the Savior, who said, ' ' Unless ye be 
 converted, and become as little children, ye can 
 not enter into the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 The present great Sunday-school movement 
 seems to be under the inspiration of the Al- 
 mighty. God is in it. The mind of the nation 
 is to be moved, and prepared for great future 
 contests ; for as a people we have not yet got 
 beyond danger. I believe that in the future 
 there are to be great battles for the right. We 
 can easily look forward to a time when a hun- 
 dred millions of people shall call this land their 
 home. All nations, all languages, all customs, 
 all political ideas, are seeking to root themselves 
 in this soil. They are doing it now. The 
 battle between infidelity, in many of its forms, 
 and Christianity is growing fiercer every day. 
 What is our hope? The Gospel, in the pulpit 
 and in the Sunday-school. Here is to be raised 
 
134 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 up a generation of Christian workers, who shall 
 do valiant service for the Lord Jesus. And 
 when the battle thickens and grows hot, and we 
 look for the coming men and women, we shall 
 see them on the distant hill-tops and along the 
 valleys of America, coming in thousands, with 
 open Bibles and warm hearts, God's army of 
 occupation. "Occupy till I come." I hear 
 them singing, as they march to victory : 
 
 " We '11 not give up the Bible, 
 God's holy book of truth, 
 The blessed staff of hoary age, 
 The guide of early youth." 
 
 And filling all this beautiful land, from ocean to 
 ocean, the voice shall break forth: 
 
 " Our Father, God, to thee, 
 Author of liberty, 
 • To thee we sing; 
 Long may our land be bright 
 With freedom's holy light; 
 Protect us by thy might, 
 Great God, our King." 
 
 Christianity means child-culture, child-salva- 
 tion. I close this chapter appropriately with an 
 extract from the late Bishop Armitage, of the 
 Protestant Episcopal Church, touching the child 
 and the Church. 
 
 "I find," says he, "a child in no religion 
 but in the religion of Jesus. Mohammed. seemed 
 
THE SPIRITUAL NURSERY. 135 
 
 to know nothing about a child. The heathen 
 seemed to know nothing about children in their 
 mythology. Their gods were not born as chil- 
 dren. They were never endowed with the 
 attributes of children. They were never clothed 
 with the sympathies of children. They never 
 threw themselves into the socialties of children. 
 They were gods of terror, gods of passion, gods 
 of lust, gods of blood, gods of might; but they 
 were never gods of helplessness, a span long. 
 O no ! That would not have been natural. 
 That would not have been divine, in their con- 
 ception. And hence they make no provision 
 for children. 
 
 "But the great elemental fact of Christianity 
 is the Holy Child Jesus. Born of a woman, 
 born under the law, in total helplessness physi- 
 cally, laid in a manger, cared for by no man, 
 but the child of the Everlasting Father, and the 
 Prince of Peace. So that the Gospel of Jesus 
 is the only religion on earth that makes provis- 
 ion for a child, and is the only religion in which 
 a child is laid at the basis and foundation of 
 its faith. 
 
 "The religion of Jesus is the only religion 
 that dares to put its sacred books into the hands 
 of a child. No other religion dares hazard its 
 existence on such a venture as that. Sacred 
 
I36 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 books of Hinduism, sacred books of Moham- 
 medanism, sacred books of any religion, put 
 into the hands of its children, would shock its 
 authors and its votaries. But the Christian re- 
 ligion brings its sacred books to the child. It 
 says to the little one, 'They are able to make 
 thee wise unto salvation, through faith that is in 
 the Lord Jesus;' and, although the child can 
 not master their mysteries, he can believe their 
 mysteries, he can obey their mysteries, he can 
 elucidate their mysteries. 
 
 "The religion of Jesus is the only religion 
 that boasts its noblest workmanship wrought in 
 the spirit of a little child, and is better adapted 
 to effect personal salvation in childhood than at 
 any other period of life. " 
 

 " Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, 
 To teach the young idea how to shoot, 
 To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, 
 To breathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix 
 The generous purpose in the glowing breast." 
 
 " A little theft, a small deceit, 
 
 Too often leads to more; 
 'Tis hard at first, but tempts the feet, 
 
 As through an open door. 
 Just as the broadest rivers run 
 
 From small and distant springs, 
 The greatest crimes that men have done 
 
 Have grown from little things." 
 
 " If for a world a soul be lost, 
 Who can the loss supply? 
 More than a thousand worlds it cost 
 One single soul to buy." 
 
 
 
VII. 
 
 d^ildfen $aved. 
 
 VERY large number of the human 
 family die in infancy or early child- 
 hood. In all places where the dead 
 sleep, there are many little grassy mounds 
 scattered about among the larger ones; 
 but in just what proportion I have not at 
 hand the means of knowing. Some have 
 placed it as high as one-third of all. 
 
 It is a most comforting thought to 
 those who have lost children, and they 
 are many, to know that not one of all 
 the millions of little ones that have died 
 has ever gone down into the regions of the lost. 
 The time was when some people — honestly 
 enough, I have no doubt — believed that children 
 of unconverted parents, dying in infancy, were 
 lost. But that day has passed away, never to 
 return again, let us hope. 
 
 139 
 
 JL 
 
140 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 The atonement, which Christ made for the 
 sins of the world by his sufferings and death, 
 included all the children. Whatever may be 
 the tendencies of human nature to sin, tenden- 
 cies growing out of an innate condition of the 
 heart, unless there be a direct putting forth of 
 will there is no guilt, there can be none. The 
 child has not sinned, and therefore can not 
 suffer any of the consequences of willful trans- 
 gressions. So our dear departed children are 
 in heaven — they are saved.. Had they lived, 
 they might have been lost to all good in this 
 world, and lost in the next; but now that they 
 have died they are saved to us forever. Then, 
 dear mother, if you have ever had one moment's 
 anxiety about your dear child's safety in the 
 spirit-land, whither it has gone, dismiss that fear 
 at once and forever. Look heavenward. Your 
 child is safe "inside the gates." 
 
 But this is not a book on dogmatic theology, 
 and therefore I turn from that phase of the 
 subject. The title of this chapter implies just 
 these few words, and I have said all I wish to 
 say now on that point. I see your children 
 growing up to manhood and womanhood, and 
 it is my purpose to consider some things which 
 relate to their safety in this world. Safety here 
 will be safety there. 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 141 
 
 And now, please note this, that the moral 
 culture of the child should begin in the earliest 
 dawnings of its infant life. The day it begins 
 to think and act, let its training for heaven com- 
 mence. The first word the child hears, the first 
 smile which greets its eye, have to do with its 
 whole after-life. That infant mind will expand, 
 that, heart will feel, that soul will move about 
 in this world. How shall it grow up — to vice 
 or virtue? 
 
 Away yonder, on the Alleghany Mountains, 
 there is a high and sharp, rocky ridge, which 
 was once pointed out to me, in one of my 
 Summer rambles, as the ''Divider." "What do 
 you mean by 'Divider?' " I remarked to my 
 guide. "Why," said he, pointing to a sharp 
 crest of the mountain on which we were stand- 
 ing, "a drop of rain falls on it, and is split in 
 two — one-half bounds off to the west, finding 
 its way into the Ohio River, and thence to the 
 Mississippi, and at last reaches the Gulf of 
 Mexico. The other half goes down into the 
 Susquehanna River, thence flows away off into 
 the Potomac, the Chesapeake Bay, and the 
 Atlantic Ocean." The point was well made — 
 possibly a little too fine, but true nevertheless, 
 if not with the drop, yet true with the shower. 
 No rain-shower ever falls on that ridge when 
 
142 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 one part does not go to the Gulf of Mexico, 
 and the other to the Chesapeake Bay. 
 
 In my native town there was an old house, 
 which stood just where it served as a divider of 
 waters. Whenever a shower fell on it, the roof 
 on one side started the waters toward the 
 Atlantic Ocean, and on the other toward the 
 Pacific Ocean. 
 
 Too much stress can not be laid upon the 
 early influence and teachings of home. It is 
 the "dividing ridge," whence our children are 
 started for heaven or hell. There is a turning- 
 point in the life of every mortal, a time when 
 the soul either goes up or down, turns to the 
 right or the left; and such being simply a fact, 
 let us make note of it, and use it in the interest 
 of good government, and in the interest of true 
 religion. A word fastened in a sure place may 
 give direction to a life, and thus set in motion a 
 train of good influences that will never cease. 
 Dropped in faith, the sunshine of God's provi- 
 dence will take care of the germination of the 
 good seed. Many a deed done, and word 
 spoken, through the good spirit of the moment, 
 are forgotten by us ; but God always remembers 
 to bless the precious seed sown in the heart-soil. 
 
 I have before in this book spoken of the 
 little tree, by which to illustrate my meaning; 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 143 
 
 now let me make use of the bud. Have you 
 ever noticed how wisely the great Author of 
 nature has protected the buds on the trees and 
 bushes? Examine them, and you will find in 
 each and all vital germs, from which new 
 branches, fruits, and flowers are to spring; and 
 those germ-containing buds are protected by 
 thick and firm scales, which ward off the cold 
 winds and frosts, as in the olden times the 
 shield, hung on the warrior's arm, warded off 
 the arrows. So does God intend home to be a 
 protection to the child. In every child there is 
 a spiritual germ that must grow up to good or 
 evil. Which? 
 
 The recollection of the home education of 
 our childhood is never wholly obliterated from 
 our minds. In the days of busy manhood or 
 womanhood there may be a partial forgetful- 
 ness — things are stowed away somewhere in the 
 chambers of the memory, as unseasonable goods 
 in the store are packed away on remote shelves ; 
 but once in a while the merchant looks them 
 all over, and when he comes to take invoice for 
 his final "closing out" he brings forth and lays 
 every thing on his counter. I once knew a 
 very old man, who, just before he died, re- 
 quested that his hands might be folded on his 
 breast, and it was done. Then, with feeble 
 
144 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 voice, he repeated that simple prayer, "Now I 
 lay me down to sleep," etc.; and that first 
 prayer of his infant life, taught him by his 
 mother, was his last utterance on earth. I am 
 reminded of that great and good man, Rev. Dr. 
 Nott, who for a long time before he died was 
 blind and childish. His wife, who was younger 
 than he by several years, sat by his bedside day 
 by day, and sang to him the songs of his child- 
 hood; and he was hushed to repose by them, 
 as an infant on its pillow. She often sang to 
 him that precious old cradle-song, "Hush, my 
 dear; lie still and slumber," which always 
 soothed him most. Think of that,, my dear 
 reader! a great dying college president, a man 
 famous all over the Christian world, hushed into 
 soft slumbers by a baby-song ! O r it speaks to 
 us of childhood and its recollections with a 
 mighty voice ! In his last days the brightest 
 visions this good man had were those of his 
 early home, while the name which came oftenest 
 to his lips was the name of his mother. As 
 with him, so with all of us : the training of 
 childhood exerts an influence on all our after- 
 years. 
 
 We must not forget this one general prin- 
 ciple, Develop the child from within outward. 
 The soul gives expression to the face. We 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 145 
 
 judge of people by the way they walk and talk 
 and look. If a child be happy in spirit it will 
 be brighter in countenance. The dull, sullen, 
 and gloomy child, marred by its physical inher- 
 itance most likely, may be cheered up and made 
 lively, and even brilliant, by the right kind of 
 education in the home circle. But, to do this, 
 you must plunge yourself into its peculiarity of 
 imagination and feeling. The child's moral 
 nature must be studied. No kind of instruction 
 appeals more strongly to child-nature than that 
 which is religious. Religious culture is the 
 '"tree of life," whose fruits, if they are first 
 eaten, will render harmless and salutary the 
 "tree of knowledge." Religion is the best 
 conservator of life, and it rests primarily on the 
 idea of God. That great idea must be pre- 
 sented to the young mind, not as a duty simply, 
 but in such a way as to create a spontaneous 
 love in the heart for God as a Father. A 
 cheerful, sunny Christianity is the only one 
 which can ever win the world's heart. Human 
 nature loves the bright, the beautiful, the glad- 
 some. That fact stares us in the face, go where 
 we will, among savage or civilized races. It is 
 part and parcel of the being whom God has made. 
 And one of the best ways to banish all religion 
 
 from the world would be to make it right harsh 
 
 10 
 
146 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 and morose and dull, as some people do. Let 
 the child know that love to God and man is not 
 a mere sentiment, an abstraction, but an out- 
 going of duty and kindness. O, how mistaken 
 are those Christian people who care only for 
 happiness in their own hearts, whose religion 
 consists in a sort of spiritual intoxication among 
 themselves! They care but little for the great 
 world, that watches for good deeds, and listens 
 for kind words. 
 
 I would make emphatic that one word, home. 
 It is a gate within whose sacred inclosure the 
 most valuable lessons may be learned, and 
 where the very best work of life may be done. 
 Then take your child by the hand and lead it ; it 
 is not able to direct its own attention to these 
 things ; it needs your help in the unfoldings of 
 its spiritual life, just as surely as the tottering 
 babe needs the supporting hand of nurse or 
 mother when it is learning to walk, or as the 
 opening flower needs the sunshine. And if the 
 little learner in the home school makes mistakes, 
 does wrong, instead of heaping on it your bitter 
 reproaches and blame, show it your pity, take 
 it to your heart, give it your sympathy, speak 
 words of encouragement, and thus be its guide 
 and support as it steps toward the better life. 
 Home is a gateway which opens into heaven. 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 147 
 
 These children, ranging from mere infants up to 
 young men and women, have hearts to love the 
 good, the true, and the beautiful. They have 
 minds to grasp the great truths of nature and 
 of life. They have capabilities for the greatest 
 good, and scarce one of them but often feels 
 the deep inspiration of his being. 
 
 Your children may have a fondness for mere 
 personal charms, a relish for the outward attrac- 
 tions of life only; but that is a "fickle fancy.' ' 
 They are capable of better things. We must 
 hold them in our thoughts, as having other 
 tastes and desires as well, which they have not 
 made known to us, possibly, or which have not 
 yet been developed. There is a deep, strong 
 current in every mind, that flows Godward. 
 Look for it in the minds of your children. 
 Seek its development, as a first duty you owe 
 to the child. 
 
 In recounting some steps necessary to the 
 welfare of the young, I would ask, Wherein 
 lies the true value of life? What is the child's 
 destiny? What are the chief and crowning 
 ornaments of every life? 
 
 Every life has value. The young woman we 
 meet on the streets is a loved and cherished in- 
 mate of some family, a daughter, a sister. And 
 if so, then is she linked by strong ties to others. 
 
I48 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 She is looked upon by some father with only 
 such feelings as a father can understand. Her 
 mother sees in her her own image. Her step 
 is but the echo of that mother's step as it was 
 in the years long gone by, when she went forth 
 in her girlish innocence and joy. In some 
 brother's heart she lives in precious love. So I 
 meet the young man, and the same thoughts 
 come welling up in the mind. Whose son is 
 he? Whence has he come? Whither is he 
 drifting ? 
 
 A Christian household is a beautiful place. 
 The young man of noble worth and the young 
 woman of virtuous life are indeed its jewels. 
 Her song makes home melodious; her smile is 
 a rainbow that arches grandly over the domestic 
 altar; her word makes the heart beat quicker; 
 her purity exalts home, and makes it more 
 heavenly. His manly step has in it a courage- 
 giving power, while his strong arm is a prophecy 
 of future protection. 
 
 The young man has a mission ; but it is not 
 within his power to touch the home-life on all 
 sides, as it is hers. He belongs rather to the 
 outside world; she to the world within. He 
 helps make the home; she softens and embel- 
 lishes it. He fences in the plat of ground ; she 
 plants and rears the flowers, to sweeten the air 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 1 49 
 
 with their fragrance. He helps to lay the 
 foundation of the home; she trains the tressy 
 vine which clambers upon its walls. If there is 
 any thing beautiful in this world, it is the home 
 where innocent and joyous youth become the 
 constant source of help and comfort to each 
 other, and to venerable parents. 
 
 Have you seen the devoted daughter caring 
 for a sick mother? Have you seen her pushing 
 her way modestly through the crowd, to lead 
 away a drunken father from his cups? Have 
 you seen her, by her gentle love, winning 
 back a straying brother? Have you seen the 
 brave young man keeping the family together, 
 and caring for a widowed mother? All these 
 we have seen, and to see was to admire. 
 
 But these children of ours have another and 
 a wider sphere in which they are destined to 
 move. I mean this great world of society. 
 And here, as in the home circle, their influence 
 should be constantly exerted for good. But 
 how can they be a blessing if they have been 
 neglected? How can your child be useful to 
 the world if you have allowed it to grow up in 
 idleness? How can your girl be an ornament 
 to society if she has . never been taught much 
 else besides being a fashionable belle? if sha 
 has been impressed with the idea that the only 
 
150 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 way to charm others is to put on tinselry? 
 False notions are cursing the world. In these 
 days our young people are taught that life is 
 mostly an amusement. The real solid discipline 
 which develops genuine manhood and true 
 womanhood is largely forgotten. There needs 
 to be reform at this point every-where. Our 
 young people need some amusement and recre- 
 ation, I admit; but not less should we think of 
 what is called the "hidden man of the heart,' ' 
 the "meek and quiet spirit which in the sight 
 of God is of great price/ ' 
 
 The different spheres in which we move in 
 life call out certain traits of character. The 
 home sphere often develops selfishness between 
 the different members of the same family. An 
 only child is liable to be selfish. It has no 
 competition. The family is hence a good place 
 to cultivate unselfishness. Children should be 
 taught to yield to each other's wishes and com- 
 fort always. The world never has any admira- 
 tion for selfishness. In man, in woman, or in 
 child, it only repels; on the other hand, unself- 
 ish serving exalts us. "He that is greatest 
 among you, let him be as the younger; and he 
 that is chief, as he that doth serve." A will- 
 ingness to do for others is not only the highest 
 expression of goodness, but the highest degree 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 1 5 I 
 
 of politeness. This is the power that wins the 
 world. Of Christ's own unselfish death on the 
 cross he said, "And I, if I be lifted up from 
 the earth, will draw all men unto me." All men 
 admire the spirit that sacrifices its own ease for 
 the good and comfort of others. But selfishness 
 reverses this. The selfish young woman lives 
 only for herself. The selfish young man seeks 
 not the good of others, at home or abroad, and 
 will as a result have fewer friends, be less an 
 ornament to society, and will pass through life 
 without doing any substantial good. Teach the 
 child to devote itself to the good of others. 
 Teach the young woman to cultivate what the 
 Bible calls a "meek and quiet spirit." Therein 
 lies the true beauty of life. Goodness is the 
 brightest ornament any one, young or old, 
 can wear. 
 
 And as home is the place where personal 
 characteristics display themselves mostly, so 
 pride and vanity show off more in general 
 society. There are some young people who, at 
 home, are rude, selfish, fretful, fault-finding, 
 surly, dull, irritable, indifferent, and lazy, who 
 never cast one ray of light on the home — the 
 poison of home they are — who in society are all 
 honey and beauty. They seem like angels, in 
 their sweetness. But I am sure that it will take 
 
152 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 more than wings to make angels of a good 
 many young ladies in this world. It is the 
 most difficult thing in the world to make false- 
 hood appear in the garments of truth — to make 
 white black, or black white. And when you 
 endeavor to be what you are not, when you put 
 on a character not your own, and which you do 
 not really desire to be, else you would be, you 
 are acting out a falsehood, and the world feels 
 it, knows it, by a. sort of moral intuition. Soci- 
 ety reads you as it reads a book. If you wish 
 to be thought good and true, be good and true. 
 Be the pure gold, not the alloy of baser metal. 
 Remember that we must all be tested by the 
 trying ordeal of human judgment in this world, 
 and by the judgment of God in the end. So 
 teach the child. 
 
 But I wish to say something about destiny. 
 Life is not .a mere play, a dream, but it is> a 
 tremendous reality. The very thought of ex- 
 isting in this world takes in the idea of struggle, 
 burden -bearing, and sorrows, which shall lie 
 heavily on the heart. O, do we fully realize 
 what life is? Have you thought, dear parent, 
 of the hard and stony road your child may 
 have to travel in the future, possibly with sore 
 and bleeding feet, and what a sad and aching 
 heart it may yet carry in its breast? I say it 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 153 
 
 not to discourage you, not to detract from the 
 brightness of the picture hung up before you. 
 I believe in crowding all the sunshine into life 
 we can. But, then, there are some things we 
 must meet, our children after us must meet, 
 and it is best they should be forewarned. Your 
 child is young now, and gay, and innocent; but 
 time will bring wrinkled brow and faded cheek. 
 Beauty of a certain kind will pass away; but 
 purity and innocence, the higher beauty of soul, 
 may remain forever. Dreams and visions be- 
 come stern realities — poetry is converted into 
 dull prose. The light becomes dim; Spring 
 gives place to Autumn ; the form stoops beneath 
 the load of care. The gay and gleeful girl, who 
 moves around your home to-day with fairy steps 
 and ringing laugh, may yet lean upon her staff 
 with trembling and feebleness. The picture I 
 have sketched is in no way one whose realiza- 
 tion is to be desired; but that does not alter the 
 case. Our children are destined to bear heavy 
 burdens, and pass through hard and trying 
 scenes. These grow out of the conditions of 
 life. They must be met and endured; for they 
 are of God's providence, and they are needed 
 for life's discipline. 
 
 If, then, these things be true — and who 
 doubts them? — can you not see, as a parent, 
 
154 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 that to cultivate in your children the sterner 
 graces and virtues of life is your solemn relig- 
 ious duty? There is much they may learn now, 
 which will come to their aid in the years to 
 come. These burdens and sorrows of life, when 
 they do come, will be alleviated somewhat by 
 the preparation which they have received for 
 them by your care. 
 
 We see around us the bright, the beautiful, 
 the pure-hearted young women. What shall be 
 the future of many of them? O, that I could 
 draw the picture in lines of beauty, and that I 
 could have it as we all desire ! But facts are 
 facts. Your child's life may be one of beauty, 
 or it may be sadly marred. She may be the 
 wife of some besotted and cruel drunkard. She 
 may live to see the day when hunger shall 
 pinch; her children may be clad in rags. Her 
 life may be a burden, to drag her down, alone 
 and neglected, , weary and disheartened. She 
 may go through a miserable existence, so unlike 
 the promise of her young and hopeful girlhood. 
 These things have been, and they will be so 
 again. Such is life, in this world of sinful, 
 fallen humanity. Would that it were otherwise ! 
 
 But I do not forget that all lives are not joy- 
 less. There are many oases in the desert, many 
 cups which overflow with joy. We must study 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 1 55 
 
 to make the best of life. To be good, to do 
 good, is the true aim of life. "All things," 
 even burdens and afflictions, "work together 
 for our good." To battle bravely with the 
 winds and tides of life is to be grandly heroic. 
 They who make the very best of their condi- 
 tion, whatever it is, though it be one of poverty 
 and lowliness, are the best examples of heroism 
 in this world. This being true, it follows that 
 life, however dark, is not lost. It is like the 
 sun struggling through the clouds — there is 
 light beyond. 
 
 I come now to speak of one point especially, 
 in the matter of doing for the child just what 
 the foregoing implies. Cultivate in your child's 
 life the habit of Church-going. If the home 
 and the Sunday-school are "gates," not less so 
 is the Church. Why is it that in our Sabbath 
 congregations ordinarily, anywhere in Christen- 
 dom, so few children are seen? The child is 
 dressed up and sent to Sunday-school, as if the 
 Church service were of no particular conse- 
 quence. And so the child grows up without 
 the habit of attending Church. What is the 
 result? A nation of young people who do not 
 think of going to Church. There are young 
 men and young women by the hundreds, in the 
 families of this Christian land every-where, who 
 
156 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 make the Sabbath a holiday, instead of a holy 
 day. Parent, can you afford to allow your 
 child to grow up disregardful of the claims of. 
 public worship ? But you say, I have no pew 
 in the church. Then, I say, get one. And if 
 you do not fill it yourself, see to it that your 
 girls and boys do. It is the pivotal center on 
 which the child's life often turns. I have had 
 an experience in my own family, in three dif- 
 ferent cases, and consequently I am prepared to 
 affirm that in my opinion any ordinary child, of 
 from five to six years old, can be trained to 
 attend Church, and to be as still and quiet as a 
 child ever ought to be during the hours of 
 religious service. 
 
 Have you ever thought of the wonderful 
 power of habit? Shakespeare, speaking of 
 habit, said, "Keep a gamester from his dice, 
 and a good student from his books, and it is 
 wonderful." I have read many wonderful things 
 of the power of habit over us. Once a young 
 man was walking along the dusty highway on a 
 bright Summer day, when suddenly his eye fell 
 on a gold eagle lying before him. He picked 
 it up and put it into his pocket, richer in gold 
 by that much ; and ever afterward he looked 
 down, instead of up. He always saw the dusty 
 road — never the blue skies and bright sun, and 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 157 
 
 the beauties above his head; ever afterward he 
 crept in the dust, hunting gold eagles. It be- 
 came the habit of hrs life. O, how sordid people 
 may become by the force of habit ! 
 
 There is an Eastern tale of a magician, who 
 discovered by his incantations that the "philos- 
 opher's stone" lay on the bank of a certain 
 river, but was unable to determine its exact 
 locality. He therefore strolled along the bank 
 with a piece of iron, to which he applied suc- 
 cessively all the pebbles he found. As, one 
 after another, they produced no change in the 
 metal, he flung them into the river. At last he 
 hit on the object of his search, and the iron be- 
 came gold in his hand; but, alas! he had 
 become so liabituated to the movement that the 
 real stone was involuntarily cast into the stream 
 and forever lost. 
 
 Many a soul is saved through the influence of 
 good habits. Johnson said: "The law of habit 
 is the magistrate of a man's life. It is not the 
 pilot directing the vessel; it is the vessel, aban- 
 doned to the force of the current, the influence 
 of the tides, and the control of the winds." 
 
 If you desire the salvation of your children, 
 guard their habits, help form them aright. Be a 
 watchful sentinel at the home gate, the Sunday- 
 school gate, the gateway of the grand temple 
 
158 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 of holy worship. Hold the children by virtue 
 of your authority, if in no other way, under 
 these influences as long as you can, until their 
 better nature has time to assert itself, or those 
 good influences have time to mold their lives. 
 
 The possibility of early conversions is no 
 longer a matter of question in the Christian 
 world. It is not necessary that our children 
 should grow up to be men and women before 
 we may reasonably expect their spiritual regen- 
 eration. There are this day thousands in the 
 Church who date their earliest religious impres- 
 sions away back in the early days of childhood. 
 Children, at five and seven, have often given the 
 most satisfactory evidences of their adoption into 
 the kingdom of Christ. I have some little Chris- 
 tians in my Church to-day, whose lives bear all 
 the fruits of genuine Christianity: and on com- 
 munion-day, among those w T ho approach the 
 altar, none are more welcome to the bread and 
 wine than these same " babes In Christ. " Our 
 children should never be considered as being 
 outside of the visible Church. Christ died for 
 them. They should be consecrated to the Lord 
 in their tender infancy. They should be taught 
 the nature of prayer, and to pray; they should 
 be instructed in the first principles of Christian- 
 ity, sent to Sunday-school and taken to Church; 
 
CHILDREN SAVED. 159 
 
 they should be impressed with the true idea of 
 their relation to God and his Church. They 
 should be led to understand that Christianity is 
 more than a mere form. Let the "ax be laid 
 at the root of the tree." Bear them to Christ, 
 as needing a change of heart ; lead them to seek 
 his saving power in their hearts. And when 
 they give these signs, enter their names on the 
 records of the Church, as full members. 
 
 Our children should be born in the Church, 
 live in it, die in it; and this is what I mean by 
 Children Saved. 
 
 " Catch then, O catch, the transient hour, 
 Improve each moment as it flies ; 
 Life 's a short Summer, man a flower — 
 He dies; alas, how soon he dies!" 
 
ipfyitt Jb$L 
 
" There is no swerving from a right line that may not lead 
 eternally astray." 
 
 " The living rock is worn by the diligent flow of the brook." 
 
 " For atoms must crowd upon atoms, ere crime groweth to 
 be a giant." 
 
 ' 'T is fearful building upon any sin; 
 One mischief, entered, brings another in, 
 The second pulls a third, the third draws more, 
 And they for all the rest set ope the door; 
 Till custom takes away the judging sense, 
 That to offend we think it no offense." 
 
 " He who once sins, like him who slides on ice, 
 Goes swiftly down the slippery ways of vice ; 
 Though conscience check him, yet, these rubs gone o'er, 
 He glides on smoothly, and looks back no more." 
 
VIII. 
 
 C^Hdf en I<ojft. 
 
 HE cars were speeding along at the 
 
 rate of about thirty miles an hour, 
 
 while we sat there in our grief. The 
 
 world without was smiling in its beauty. 
 
 The crowd of strangers about us knew not 
 
 our sorrow; but I dare say the most of 
 
 them had lost friends — perhaps children — 
 
 and had they known of our loss they would 
 
 have felt keenly for us. 
 
 Just one short month before we had 
 gone over the same road, and, for aught I 
 know, in the same coach. All was joy 
 and hope then. But how changed the return 
 trip ! What a new aspect every thing wore 
 now ! At one of the stations I thought I would 
 go out to the baggage-car, and see my dear 
 child. O, to think of the sweet child away off 
 among the trunks by herself in the baggage-car! 
 
 163 
 
1 64 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 That was indeed hard to bear. But then I felt 
 better about it, from the fact that when the box 
 was raised up, at the depot from where we 
 started, by a couple of strong men, I stood by, 
 and asked the baggage-man if he would not 
 please see that it was put some place by itself. 
 I never saw that man before — I may never see 
 him again in this world. I do not know his 
 name, nor where he lives, but I shall not forget 
 him. He took in all the feelings of my wounded 
 heart. He spoke so kindly, he cared for my 
 little box so tenderly. "Put it over here," he 
 said to the men who lifted it up, "where it will 
 not be touched." Dear man! Perhaps he had 
 some little flaxen-headed girl at home waiting 
 his return. He may have had my experience, 
 and known how deep was my sorrow that day. 
 He was tender of my feelings ; that I know, for 
 he cared so kindly for my little box. 
 
 At several of the stations I went out to see 
 about my child. Once, when I stepped into 
 the car, one of the train-men, a plain, rough, 
 hard-working man, was sitting on the box, eat- 
 ing his lunch. At first I thought I would not 
 disturb him; it could do no possible harm to 
 me or the dear child. Besides, it was a very 
 convenient place, and the hungry man needed 
 his food. But then my feelings were very tender 
 
CHILDREN LOST. 165 
 
 toward that little box and its precious contents; 
 and so I said to the man, "Won't you, please, 
 sit somewhere else ? That box contains the 
 body of my child." Poor fellow! He had not 
 thought about it. He rose up at once, and 
 begged my pardon ; said he did not know it, 
 and seemed to feel as if he had done some 
 great wrong. I told him it was all right now; 
 it was only a matter of feeling. Then he said, 
 "The box shall not be touched, sir, by any 
 one; I'll take care of that." I took him by 
 the hand and thanked him, and went back to 
 my seat in the coach. Well, all I have to say 
 is, that while a man's exterior may be very 
 rough -looking, within there may be a very 
 kindly soul. Perhaps he too had lost a dear 
 child ; if so, then he could know something 
 of my sorrow. 
 
 We were sitting there, grieving, and doing 
 what so many others have done, reproaching 
 ourselves, or trying to do so. We thought over 
 what we had done, and what we had not done, 
 We saw where we might have done differently. 
 Possibly, after all, we were only suffering a 
 penalty for wrong treatment in some way. I 
 felt as if I wanted to blame myself. If we had 
 done this, or had not done that, our dear child 
 might have been spared to us. I think some- 
 
1 66 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 times people have reason to reproach themselves 
 for neglects of duty toward their children. We 
 could not call to mind any willful neglect, in 
 any sense; all that we could think of was, that 
 we might have done differently. Whether that 
 would have made any difference in the outcome, 
 only God knows. When people have done the 
 very best they know how, though they have 
 committed errors — "To err is human" — there 
 is no just ground for any self-reproaching. Do 
 the best you can, and leave the issues with God. 
 just then the newsboy came along, and 
 threw down some papers. I took one up, and 
 almost instantly my eyes fell on the following 
 account of death in high places. The incident 
 shows how we are all related to each other, and 
 how much of life we all have in common. The 
 house of royalty mourned its dead. We, in 
 our more humble walk, mourned our loss as 
 much. The picking up of that paper at that 
 moment seemed like a special providence. The 
 words came like an angel whisper to two sor- 
 rowing hearts. I will here insert the article 
 as it appeared, in full, for the good it may 
 do others: 
 
 "The accompanying beautiful and pathetic poem, by 
 the author of 'John Halifax, Gentleman,' was suggested 
 by the fatal accident which recently befell the young 
 
CHILDREN LOST. 1 67 
 
 ♦ 
 Prince Frederic William, son of Prince Louis, of Hesse, 
 and the Princess Alice, daughter of Queen Victoria. The 
 particulars of the accident are as follows : On Thursday, 
 the 27th of May, the nurses brought three of the children 
 into their mother's bedroom, in the Grand Ducal Palace 
 at Darmstadt, about eight o'clock in the morning. One 
 of them', Prince Ernest, who is four years and a half old, 
 ran into the adjoining bath-room, the window of which 
 was open. The mother hastened after this child, leaving 
 the other two children, Princess Victoria, and Prince 
 Frederic William aged three. She could not have been 
 absent half a minute ; but in that brief space of time the 
 little one had got to the bedroom window. He leaned 
 out, with childish curiosity, and let fall a toy with which 
 he was playing, and in trying to recover it lost his bal- 
 ance and fell into the court. The noise of his fall recalled 
 his terrified mother, but it was too late. The height from 
 the window to the garden is about twenty-four feet. 
 When the little boy was picked up, it was found that he 
 had no bones broken, but he had suffered a concussion 
 of the brain. He did not recover consciousness, and died 
 about eleven o'clock at night of the same day. 
 
 A LITTLE DEAD PRINCE. 
 
 (BURIED JUNE I, 1873.) 
 
 " Over the happy mother's bed 
 
 Gambol three children, loving and gay; 
 Ernest strong, and delicate Fritz, 
 
 Pretty baby Victoria. 
 Two little princes, sans sword, sans crown, 
 
 One little princess, infant-sweet — 
 In the mother's heart, as rich and as full 
 
 As any mother's in lane or street, 
 They grow — three roses — love-rooted deep, 
 
 Filling with perfume all their own 
 
1 68 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 The empty air, oft so sharp and keen, 
 
 Of the lonely heights too near a throne. 
 The palace windows stand open wide, 
 
 The harmless windows ; and through them pass, 
 May winds, to the palace children dear 
 
 As to cottage babies upon the grass ; 
 Out through the chamber runs Ernest bold ; 
 
 The mother follows, with careful mind, 
 Fearless of fate, for a minute's. space 
 
 Leaving the other two behind. 
 Grand on the bed, like a mimic queen, 
 
 Tiny Victoria gravely sits; 
 While, clasping closely his darling toy, 
 
 Up to the casement climbs merry Fritz; 
 It drops — his treasure ! He leans and looks — 
 
 Twenty feet down to the stony road — 
 Hear'st thou that shriek from the mother's lips? 
 
 Hast thou no mercy, O God, O God? 
 
 One ghastly moment he hangs in air, 
 
 Like a half-fledged bird from the nest's edge thrown, 
 With innocent eyes of dumb surprise — 
 
 Then falls — and the brief young life is done. 
 
 Mother, poor mother ! try to see, 
 
 Not the skeleton hand that thrust him there 
 
 Out of sunshiny life into silent death, 
 But the waiting angels, in phalanx fair. 
 
 O, try to feel that the earth's hard breast 
 
 Was the bosom of God, which took him in — 
 God, who knows all things, to us unknown — 
 
 From sorrows, sicknesses, peril, or sin. 
 O hear, far off, the low sound of tears, 
 
 Dropping from many an eye like mine, 
 As we look at our living children sweet, 
 
 And our mother-hearts weep blood for thine. 
 
CHILDREN LOST. 1 69 
 
 God comfort thee ! Under the robe of state 
 
 That hides, but heals not, wounds throbbing wild, 
 Mayst thou feel the touch of one soft dead hand — 
 
 The child that will always remain a child. 
 And when the long years shall have slipped away, 
 
 And gray hairs come, and thy pulse beats slow, 
 May one little face shine star-like out 
 
 O'er the dim descent that thy feet must go. 
 Mother, poor mother! 'neath warm June rain 
 
 Bear to the grave thy coffin small ; 
 Oft children living are children lost ; 
 
 But our children dead — ah, we keep them all!" 
 
 The two closing lines impressed me most: 
 
 " Oft children living are children lost; 
 
 But our children dead — ah, we keep them all!" 
 
 Then, I said to myself, my children are not lost. 
 As I rode along, through the two hundred 
 miles and more, my mind was led out into 
 varied reflections. Every-where in the world 
 are scores and hundreds of lost young men and 
 lost young women. The cities, the villages, and 
 the country abound with them. They are not 
 in perdition, but they are on the road that 
 surely leads there. Many a mother has watched 
 with anxious care over the crib of her sick babe 
 by day and by night, and has prayed for its 
 recovery with all the earnest pleadings of a 
 mother's heart. She has seen it grow up to 
 young manhood or womanhood, and then the 
 sad day has come when she has seen that 
 
170 Inside the gates. 
 
 daughter sold to sin — that son a drunkard, a 
 thief, ay, a murderer. How true, 
 
 " Oft children living are children lost!" 
 
 That mother now cries, in her agony, O, if my 
 child had only died in infancy! 
 
 The old doctrine, once taught in some of 
 our Churches, that children dying in infancy are 
 lost in the next world, has long since been ex- 
 ploded, never having had any foundation in 
 either Scripture or reason. Nobody believes it 
 now ; but that children are lost in this world, 
 growing up to maturity in sin, every body 
 believes. The child that grows up uneducated 
 in morals is liable to be lost in time and eter- 
 nity. Who is to blame for the profanity one 
 daily hears every-where? At whose door lies 
 the sin of Sabbath-breaking, so common? Who 
 is ready to answer for the wrong done to society 
 by the theater, as it exists to-day in our country? 
 Where rests the responsibility growing out of 
 the gaming and dancing customs of the age? 
 For these I hold to be only varieties of the 
 same general species. There may be an inno- 
 cent game, a harmless dance, a moral theater ; 
 but I ask, Do not these sports bear the young 
 directly away from spiritual religion? Who 
 questions it? Not one. 
 
CHILDREN LOST. 171 
 
 I have elsewhere in this book spoken of 
 games and gambling ; let me now speak of 
 some of these other sins : dancing, theater-going, 
 fashion, and intemperance. 
 
 Every-where we meet the crowds rushing, 
 with a species of intoxication, into all the so- 
 called "innocent amusements." But are they 
 innocent? Perhaps dancing is the most so of 
 any of the ordinary amusements of the day. If 
 I can show that to be objectionable, then it fol- 
 lows that all others are more so. I am willing 
 to admit that in the mere act of dancing there 
 is no moral evil. A few children in the home 
 parlor, keeping time to music, are not doing 
 any harm ; but dancing has a different meaning 
 from that. A glass of brandy is not in itself 
 bad. No evil inheres in matter. The harm 
 comes from taking the brandy into the sys- 
 tem in a wrong w r ay ; as a remedial agent, 
 it may even be of service. So of the mere 
 physical act of dancing. Exercise is whole- 
 some — we need it ; but we do not need the 
 dance. 
 
 I wish to ask the abettors of the dance, Is 
 a life devoted to worldly, carnal pleasure, as a 
 chief end, in keeping with the. claims of spiritual 
 Christianity? Can you teach your child to pray 
 for a clean heart, and at the same time encour- 
 
172 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 age a life made up of every kind of amusement? 
 Can you take your seat in the theater, and 
 witness the plays usually put upon the stage, 
 and at the same time feel that you are a dutiful 
 and loving follower of the Lord Jesus Christ? 
 Can you attend dancing parties in the name of 
 the Christ you profess to love? Can a Christian 
 pray, "Help me to dance this evening?" Jesus 
 said, "Let your light so shine before men that 
 they may glorify your Father which is in 
 heaven.' ' Now, I most respectfully ask Chris- 
 tian parents, Can the light of true piety shine 
 out of the ball-room? Is it not true that danc- 
 ing is a species of revelry? And has it not in 
 every age, when used as an amusement, tended 
 only to draw the heart away from the love and 
 service of God? 
 
 I know that some religious people see these 
 things in a different light, and I am not disposed 
 to impeach their honesty as Christians; but I 
 write to show all who are in favor of opening 
 the gates freely to every thing which the heart 
 craves, that these customs are detrimental to a 
 life of faith on the Son of God. I sincerely 
 ask, Do you know of any who are devout, 
 whose lives are especially marked as holy, who 
 have any interest in dancing, theater-going and 
 kindred amusements? There is nothing more 
 
CHILDREN LOST. 173 
 
 certain, to my mind, than that they are all at 
 war with the religion of Jesus. 
 
 " Religion never was designed 
 To make our pleasures less." 
 
 Nor was it ever designed to be at war with our 
 needful pleasures. But we know that between 
 the religion of the Bible and the popular amuse- 
 ments of the day there is an irrepressible con- 
 flict. I have said that as a mere worldly 
 amusement dancing is as harmless as any ; but 
 the day your child becomes a true follower of 
 the Savior the taste for the dance ceases; the 
 day that a love of the dance takes possession of 
 the heart the life and beauty of religion depart 
 away out of the heart. 
 
 What, let me inquire, are the regular con- 
 comitants of the dance? Pride, prodigality, 
 licentiousness, intemperance. These may not 
 always be found in the private and select gath- 
 ering; but they belong to the dance in its 
 ordinary phase. 
 
 I admit it is an amusement, a pastime. But 
 is time of so little value that it needs to be 
 thrown away? 
 
 " Time destroyed 
 Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt." 
 
 I know, furthermore, that we need a degree of 
 amusement; and there are those recreations 
 
174 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 which are pure and intellectual, which can be 
 taken in the name of the Lord Jesus. But let 
 us not forget that life is more than an amuse- 
 ment. It is a grand and solemn reality. 
 
 The dance is fascinating. Satan understands 
 just "how to capture the imagination; and so the 
 path of sin is often a gilded highway, where 
 embellishments charm the eye and music en- 
 trances the ear, along which thousands rush 
 headlong into pitfalls and ruin. 
 
 The celebrated Dr. Adam Clarke gave this 
 as his experience: "I long resisted all solicita- 
 tions of this kind of enjoyment; but at last I 
 allowed myself to be overcome. I grew pas- 
 sionately fond of the dance. And now I lost 
 the spirit of subordination, did not love work, 
 was imbued with a spirit of idleness, and, in 
 short, drank in all the brain-sickening effluvia 
 of pleasu're. Dancing and company took the 
 place of reading and study. The authority of 
 my parents was feared, but not respected, and few 
 serious impressions could be made to prevail in a 
 mind imbued with frivolity. Yet I entered no 
 disreputable assembly, and in no case kept bad 
 company. Nevertheless, dancing was to me a 
 preventing influence, an unmixed moral evil. I 
 consider it a branch of that worldly education 
 which leads from ' things spiritual to things 
 
CHILDREN LOST. 1 75 
 
 carnal, from heaven to earth, from God to Satan. 
 Let them plead for it who will, I know it to be 
 evil, and only evil." 
 
 Some people labor under the delusion that 
 dancing refines the manners, that it cultivates 
 graceful motions. I ask, Can we distinguish, 
 upon our streets or in our parlors, by their sin- 
 gularly perfect movements, those who have 
 learned the art of dancing from those who have 
 not? I submit: You send your sons and daugh- 
 ters to the dancing-master to acquire grace of 
 motion; do you wish your child to equal or 
 excel the teacher? Would you like to have 
 your child adopt the vocation of the dancing- 
 master? You would not feel that your family 
 name had received any luster from having one 
 of its members thus employed. 
 
 But I hear one say, "It is healthful, and 
 therefore right." Who feels well after a night 
 spent in the revelry of the dance, in the heated 
 and foul atmosphere of a ball-room? It is not 
 health-producing — it is the reverse. Not alone 
 is it unhealthy to the body when excessively 
 pursued, as it so often is, but it is unhealthy to 
 the morals in innumerable instances, which is 
 worse. Dr. Dio Lewis says: "Let a couple 
 stand in the presence of company, with their 
 arms about each other and their persons in 
 
176 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 contact, as they do in these dances [round 
 dances], and what should you think? The 
 dance is made the excuse for what without it 
 would be the grossest indelicacy/ ' Again: "It 
 is [with dancing] as with much of the opera, in 
 which the fine music is made the apology for 
 words that can not be spoken without it." 
 
 The Bible frequently speaks of the dance. 
 It says, in one place, "There is a time to 
 dance." Among the Jews dancing was purely 
 a religious rite, and was only resorted to on 
 occasions of great joy. After the overthrow of 
 Pharaoh's army, Miriam, the prophetess, took a 
 timbrel in her hand, "and the women went 
 after her with timbrels and dances." They 
 went through some sort of rite, expressive of 
 their joy at the great victory achieved over 
 their enemies. So the daughter of Jephthah 
 met her father, and celebrated his victories 
 with timbrel and dance. At the yearly feast in 
 Shiloh the daughters of Israel "went forth in 
 dances." Now, it will be noticed that on all 
 of these occasions it was a religious observance, 
 in which the women, "daughters of Israel," 
 only took part. In all other cases the dancers 
 were called "vain fellows." There are just 
 three instances on record in the Bible of danc- 
 ing as an amusement: First, that of the "vain 
 
 
CHILDREN LOST. I 77 
 
 fellows" above alluded to, who perverted a re- 
 ligious rite* and who were devoid of shame. 
 Secondly, those irreligious people spoken of in 
 the Book of Job, who sent their children "forth 
 to dance." Was it to dancing-schools? At least 
 it is said that they went to destruction. Thirdly, 
 the case of Herodias, whose daughter danced 
 before Herod until she turned his head, and he 
 promised her any thing she might ask, even to 
 the half of his kingdom. She was a good 
 dancer. She must have been a very refined 
 young lady; for when she made known her re- 
 quest, it was that she might have the head of a 
 minister, John the Baptist, given to her. John 
 was opposed to dancing and to all its associate 
 evils, and did not hesitate to rebuke the sins of 
 people in high places, even though it should 
 cost him his head. Many another minister has 
 incurred the hot displeasure of certain classes 
 for denouncing their sins. I suppose it will be 
 so till the end of time. 
 
 The dancing spoken of in the Bible, with the 
 above noted exceptions, was not only always 
 performed by the women — never by the sexes 
 commingled — but it took place in the open 
 field, and in the broad light of day. And if 
 our young people would do the same at the 
 
 present time, I do not know that even the most 
 
 12 
 
178 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 zealous Methodist would care, for it is not the 
 mere dance that is objected to, but the tenden- 
 cies, the associations, the results to spiritual 
 religion. 
 
 "A time to dance" — but when is that time? 
 It can not be that God intended his people to 
 gather together in the night-time and revel in 
 the mazy whirl of the ball-room; for in all 
 ages, and among all nations, these gatherings 
 have been notoriously pernicious in their influ- 
 ence both upon health and morals. Besides, if 
 this be a command, then it is a duty enjoined 
 alike upon all, the old and the young, male and 
 female. If so, then it is right for the minister 
 and the member; and, inasmuch as he is ap- 
 pointed to be an example to his flock in all 
 things that are proper and right, he should lead 
 off, and himself be a real dancing-master ! Yes, 
 the Bible says, "A time to dance;" but it only 
 means that there is a time when people do 
 dance, just as there is a time when we are born, 
 a time when we plant, and a time when we 
 pluck up that which is planted. 
 
 The whole tendency of the dance is to light- 
 ness, frivolity, wrong; and they who give them- 
 selves up to it, or who encourage it in their 
 children as the habit of their lives, only prepare 
 the way, in a majority of cases, for those same 
 
CHILDREN LOST. 1 79 
 
 children to slide into other vices; and in this 
 "way are thousands of our Children Lost. 
 
 Then, let me add that dancing and fashion, 
 in its objectionable sense, are inseparable from 
 each other. People may be fashionable when 
 the fashion is a good one. But the word is 
 rather technical in its meaning, and signifies 
 pride displayed in dress. And here is one of 
 the evils of the world: a mere love of display. 
 Good taste, neatness of attire, comfort, health, 
 economy, are subjects which come legitimately 
 under this head, but can not be dwelt upon at 
 length here. Dress is a fine art, and has its 
 law. Nobody of intelligence will deny that. 
 The mind, as well as the moral nature, displays 
 itself in the dress quite generally. 
 
 Religion does not require any particular pat- 
 tern, nor any set color; yet some well-meaning 
 people seem to think it does. They who decry 
 all ornamentation and attempt to be "plain," 
 and thereby advertise themselves as being very 
 holy, generally get the credit of being bigoted 
 and slovenly. They turn with intense satisfac- 
 tion to the text which forbids, as they suppose, 
 the "putting on of gold and costly apparel," 
 when really all that the apostle meant was that 
 the ornament of a woman should not be in these 
 "outward adornments/' but in a "meek and 
 
1 80 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 quiet spirit.' ' God loves the beautiful, and the 
 whole universe attests it. Look at the fields in 
 Summer. How rich! how fragrant! Look at 
 bird and beast, and what ornamentation comes 
 to view! So we may array ourselves becom- 
 ingly, beautifully, without being in any sense 
 extravagant or vain. There is a medium to be 
 sought, a limit within which all is proper, be- 
 yond which all is improper. I plead for the 
 former. 
 
 But I am opposed to this wretched and re- 
 morseless tyranny of fashion, the beck which 
 brings down the millions of mankind to their 
 knees. The sin is charged mostly to woman's 
 account, because she is more acutely sensitive 
 to form and color than man ; but she is not 
 alone. He follows the fashions as surely, if not 
 as quickly and as enthusiastically, as she. It 
 will be a glad day for the world when it learns 
 just how to be neat, pretty, economical, and 
 healthy in its apparel. But until it does, the 
 thousands will bow their necks to the yoke, 
 fortunes will be wasted, and time spent which 
 might be more wisely employed. The love of 
 dress, the desire to make a display, to rival or 
 surpass some one else, has proved a snare to 
 many a poor soul. Christ in the heart, formed 
 the hope of glory, is the best counteractive for 
 
CHILDREN LOST. l8l 
 
 this and all other evils. And so it do n't do 
 much good for us to attempt to convert the 
 hearts of mankind by stripping off their clothes ; 
 but let us set the world a good example of 
 kindness, industry, patience, faith, charity, and 
 lead people to embrace Christ. "Let the ax be 
 laid at the root of the tree." Get the heart 
 right, and then the dress will adjust itself, and 
 never till then. 
 
 I have seen some professedly pious people 
 who were not even clean. As between a little 
 extravagance in dress and uncleanness, I think 
 all must prefer the former. "Let all things be 
 done decently, and in order." Avoid extremes 
 on either side, and you will be about right. 
 
 I have elsewhere remarked that one of the 
 concomitants of the dance is the theater. The 
 young man or young woman who dances and 
 dresses must of course see the "play." And 
 the theater — which has been condemned by 
 statesmen, philosophers, and divines, as a school 
 of immorality, for two thousand five hundred 
 years; the theater, which has not been re- 
 formed because it can not be, which exists to 
 feed the low r er tastes, and which thrives best 
 on obscenity; which, though tried again and 
 again, always fails when made pure; the thea- 
 ter, w T ith its nakedness, its misrepresentations 
 
1 82 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 of life, with its expensiveness, and all that — has 
 its defenders in our Christian families quite 
 frequently. And it is not uncommon for Chris- 
 tian men and women to go themselves, and take 
 their children; and there, amid a boisterous 
 crowd, stay until nearly midnight often. When 
 will Christian people learn better? If these same 
 people should happen to stumble into a prayer- 
 meeting — not very likely, however, for they 
 who love the one do not love the other; but if 
 they should go to a prayer-meeting, they would 
 be horrified if the services lasted a minute after 
 nine o'clock. It would be so improper to be 
 out after that hour! 
 
 But the theater attracts by its gaudiness, its 
 hilarity, and its vulgarisms; and the sons and 
 daughters of our homes go there only to be 
 beguiled frequently into ways that are not good, 
 and by and by we see them as Children Lost. 
 
 Still another vice belongs to this same cat- 
 egory. Every-where w r e see the appalling evils 
 of intemperance. O, how rum blasts and with- 
 ers man or woman! Not so often as men are 
 our women given to wine ; but even a woman, in 
 her native queenliness, sometimes becomes a 
 drunkard. Among the possibilities of the life 
 of the young woman who reads this may be 
 drunkenness; for what has been may be again. 
 
CHILDREN LOST. 183 
 
 Rum is a monster that does not stop to dis- 
 tinguish the sex of his victim. He goes forth 
 blind to human condition, insensible to mortal 
 woe, and deaf to every call of pity. The mon- 
 ster gloats and thrives on the carcasses of his 
 perishing victims. What cares he on what soil 
 he puts his awful foot? What cares he about 
 the wailings of human sorrow, or the agonies 
 of despair? In palace or hovel, amid the blaze 
 of chandeliers or in the dinginess of squalid 
 poverty, he enters alike, only to crush out life, 
 only to waste and kill. On one hand age lies 
 helpless before him ; on the other, youth, in 
 its flush and beauty, falls, never to rise again. 
 In one place the innocent child is consumed in 
 fires worse than Moloch ; in another, the strong 
 man is smitten with a stroke that destroys every 
 element of manly life. The monster can not 
 tremble, for he never fears; he can not blush, 
 for he is as heartless as the flinty rock; he can 
 not feel, for he has no soul. His only mission 
 is to slay guilty and innocent alike. O, if there 
 is a foe whose steel would stab the vitals of the 
 world, that foe is rum. 
 
 I have thought sometimes I could bear it if 
 the woe ended with the drinker; but, alas! it 
 does not. He, besotted and senseless, the 
 nerveless maudlin, goes reeling through the 
 
1 84 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 streets, and each staggering step makes the 
 crimson of shame take a deeper hue on the 
 cheek of wife and child. The raving rum- 
 maniac comes to his own door, while his heavy 
 footfall startles the ear of innocence within, as 
 if it were the crash of death. He lies down on 
 the floor in stupor, with every trace of manly 
 nobleness effaced, while eyes are red with weep- 
 ing, and hearts sore with their burning. O, I 
 say, if the drunkard alone suffered, or the 
 drunkard-maker, it could be better endured ; but 
 wives and children are doomed to bear these ills 
 from year to year. 
 
 A parent who puts wine on the table on 
 New-Year's day, or a young woman who on 
 that or any other day offers the glass to her 
 gentlemen friends, tempts them to a life of 
 drunkenness — sends a soul downward, whom 
 woman, with her gentleness and virtue, should 
 draw upward ever. And if you thus tempt the 
 sons of other mothers, you need not blame 
 those who tempt yours ; for it is written, i ' With 
 whatsoever measure ye mete, it shall be meas- 
 ured to you again/ 5 
 
 Children Lost! Alas, it is too true. See 
 them in crowds every-where — these hundreds 
 of young men who know no Sabbath, because 
 they will not. Sobriety and uprightness are 
 
CHILDREN LOST. 1 85 
 
 the exception ; drinking, gambling, profanity, 
 are the rule. There is a text here for a sermon 
 to be preached in every home. Men and 
 women must come to know that there must 
 be reform — Christliness in every heart. There 
 is a remedy for all these evils, if we only 
 use it. 
 
 I have buried my children. They are safe 
 from all these contaminations — lost to me now, 
 gone from me for a time; but saved forever. 
 We could all wish our children had not died; 
 but, had they lived, we might have said, 
 "Would to God that they had died in their 
 infancy!" 
 
 Some one has said there are two ways of 
 coming down from some high tower. One is 
 to jump down, and the other is to come down 
 by the steps. Both lead to the bottom. So, 
 also, there are two ways of going to hell. One 
 is to walk into it with your eyes open — few 
 people do that — the other is to go down by 
 the steps of little sins; and that way is only 
 too common. Put up with a few little sins, 
 and you will soon want a few more. Even a 
 heathen could say, "Who ever was content 
 with only one sin?" Thus your course will 
 grow regularly worse every year. It has been 
 said of the progress of sin in man: "First it 
 
1 86 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 startles him, then it becomes pleasing, then 
 easy, then delightful, then habitual, then con- 
 firmed. Then the man is impenitent, then 
 obstinate, and then damned. " 
 
 Never play with fire, my child; never play 
 with sin, my man. 
 
 s* 
 
 
jfe mtb Ik Ibsstms* 
 
Life 's more than breath and the quick round of blood. 
 
 It is a great spirit and a busy heart. 
 
 The coward and the small in soul scarce do live. 
 
 One generous feeling, one great thought, one deed 
 
 Of good ere night, would make life longer seem 
 
 Than if each year might number a thousand days, 
 
 Spent as is this by nations of mankind. 
 
 We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; 
 
 In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 
 
 We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives 
 
 Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best." 
 
 The good man suffers but to gain, • 
 And every virtue springs from pain ; 
 As aromatic plants bestow 
 No spicy fragrance while they grow ; 
 But, crushed or trodden to the ground, 
 Diffuse their balmy sweets around." 
 
IX. 
 
 I<ife ai\d it$ I<e^on$. 
 
 HOEVER looks upon human life as 
 
 any thing else than a struggle has 
 
 a mistaken view of its meaning. 
 
 Why is it so? The answer must be found 
 
 in the deep-laid plans of the Creator of 
 
 all things. 
 
 You and I, dear reader, have had 
 our dark days, our heavy burdens, our 
 crushing griefs, and our bereavements. 
 Our hearts have been pained, wrung, and 
 we have stood and looked up into blank 
 space, and asked, Why? 
 
 Is there no explanation, no mean- 
 ing to all this? Are we forever to stand 
 gazing up into heaven, lost in amazement and 
 wonder? Let us look around us, into our- 
 selves, and perchance the explanation will be 
 
 found, and we shall be able to find some 
 
 189 
 
 I 
 
 it 
 
I9O INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 solid comfort, even in our trials and bereave- 
 ments. 
 
 The Scriptures every-where tell us of the 
 hard trials we must endure as good soldiers of 
 the Lord Jesus, of the battles we must fight, 
 and of the victories we may win. 
 
 This idea set forth in revelation has a very 
 wide sweep. It belongs to nature, and there- 
 fore is God's idea. We are told that there is 
 in space a universally resisting medium, that the 
 planets in their orbits about the sun are urged 
 forward against it. In the earth all around us 
 there are evidences of this universal plan. The 
 grass struggles up through a hardened soil, and 
 the trees of the forest are made to raise their 
 heads against the winds which would sweep 
 them from their fastenings in the earth. And so 
 in human life: whatever we gain, in substantial 
 wealth or moral development, comes of toil and 
 struggle. 
 
 The student of science walks not up some 
 royal road, to wear unearned a crown in the 
 grand temple; but he climbs the steep ascent, 
 with oft rugged and dangerous declivities, and 
 only gains the summit by the severest labors of 
 the brain. The depths of philosophy do not open 
 their hidden treasures to the casual observer, but 
 to the mind which can bear the strain, and be 
 
LIFE AND ITS LESSONS. 191 
 
 wakeful while others are sleeping. The fruitage 
 of mind-harvest has its plowing and harrowing 
 time, and its long days of patient waiting. 
 
 God has set many a treasure in the view of 
 mortals, not to grasp with a careless hand in 
 our life -journey, but to be gathered by the effort 
 which brings the perspiration to the brow, and 
 sends the heart into quicker pulsations. 
 
 And what is true of the toiling hand, and 
 the toiling brain, is true also of the heart. 
 There is such a thing as heart-struggle. The 
 prize is held out to all, but given only "to him 
 that overcometh." Every true life is one of 
 growth, and the true goal of immortal being is 
 perfection. "Go on even unto perfection." 
 Not only so, but every true life is a warfare. 
 Every human being born into our world is born 
 to a life-contest with difficulties. Every human 
 soul should bear aloft the banner inscribed with 
 the words Battle and Victory. 
 
 Let us inquire here into some of the common 
 impediments of life, not forgetting the fact that, 
 while we are often on a seeming stand-still, we 
 are actually making the greatest progress. We 
 stumble at our difficulties, and deem them ill, 
 but victory is what we are seeking rather than 
 speed, strength rather than ease ; and if we were 
 not confronted and hindered by these impedi- 
 
I92 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 ments of life, we could not have the glorious 
 privilege of overcoming them. It is the stormy 
 sea that makes the skillful mariner. The fierce 
 winds cause the trees to send down their roots 
 all the deeper into the soil. A student bends 
 over some knotty problem in mathematics* for 
 weary days, and possibly reproaches himself 
 because he does not gain ground more rapidly. 
 But the struggle with the difficulty is giving 
 him intellectual strength. "To him that over- 
 cometh," cries the angel of success from the 
 hill-tops of heaven, as he reaches out the crown 
 to the overcomer, the winner in the battle 
 of life. 
 
 To gain the full control of self is a first duty 
 of every one. He who can, under all the pe- 
 culiar trials of life, govern himself, is "better 
 than he that taketh a city." Our self-govern- 
 ment is imperative and possible. There is no 
 success without it. No one who fails in this 
 can be a winner in the world's contest. Anger 
 must be subdued ; patience must be cultivated 
 at all times; avarice must give way to benevo- 
 lence; selfishness must be replaced with a love 
 as broad and deep as the ocean. One of the 
 things we all must learn is the spirit of mutual 
 forbearance. We must have in our hearts the 
 charity that "suffereth long, and is kind." To 
 
LIFE AND ITS LESSONS. 1 93 
 
 bear kindly with those who think differently 
 from us is a duty we owe to ourselves as well 
 as to others. To be cool under provocations, to 
 put a charitable meaning on the words of others, 
 when "reviled to revile not again," to render 
 good for evil, to love our enemies, — Such are 
 the duties which are implied in this self-govern- 
 ment, and they are essential to ' our Christian 
 growth and victory. 
 
 But how shall we win such a victory over 
 ourselves ? Not by our own unaided self always. 
 We can do something in the way of self-cultiva- 
 tion. I do not believe that any one needs to be 
 frenzied with anger. There is no reasonable 
 excuse for it. If we have tempers, we still 
 should be rational. To say that we committed 
 such acts, or spoke such and such words, in a 
 fit of anger, is a confession of weakness and of 
 unreasonableness. If we feel the risings of 
 anger, we should not let it overcome us. "Be 
 ye angry, and sin not," is the divine prescrip- 
 tion. If anger means displeasure, it may exist 
 without sin. This is the meaning of God's 
 anger. But most people, when they are angry, 
 do sin. With them it is more than mere dis- 
 pleasure, it is the uprising of malignant passion. 
 Another one says, "I did wrong, but I was 
 tempted." We should not yield to temptation. 
 
 13 
 
194 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 We should guard our steps, and turn away from 
 the wrong, as we would from the hissing ser- 
 pent. "Ah," says still another, "I am so ava- 
 ricious by nature that I can not give away any 
 thing." Then, I say, give away more, and 
 break up that sad state of things by the sheer 
 force of your will. When you do not want to 
 give, be sure to do what you do n't want to 
 do, and thus gain a victory over self. Subdue 
 yourself. 
 
 There are multitudes of professing Christians 
 in the world, who are ever condemning them- 
 selves because they do not do better. Their 
 mistake lies in charging every fault to their na- 
 ture, thus hoping to escape responsibility. 
 Their cry is, "Lord, why hast thou made me 
 so?" Now, to all these I would say, kindly, 
 You must overcome these tendencies. It will 
 require an effort ; but you must make the effort. 
 Study your own weakness. See yourself in the 
 light of God's Word; for unless you do put 
 forth the effort you will come short, and your 
 life will be one great moral blank. But then we 
 all have the promise of help from on high. We 
 should pray to our Heavenly Father to help us 
 to be more generous, and then seek opportuni- 
 ties for the exercise of our generosity. We 
 should pray the Father to keep us from getting 
 
LIFE AND ITS LESSONS. 1 95 
 
 angry,, and then be careful not to run into ex- 
 citement. Our prayer should be, "Lead us not 
 into temptation!" and then be sure not to go 
 there of our own accord. The Creator did not 
 design you to be a failure, but a grand success; 
 and if you allow your tempers and trials to 
 overcome you, then you thwart the plans of 
 God. He has given these to us for our good. 
 He intends us to become strong in a warfare with 
 difficulties, else he would not have surrounded 
 us with them. 
 
 There is a great deal of ignorance to over- 
 come. We have every thing to learn. We are 
 not accountable for any wrong we may do in 
 ignorance. But if we are ignorant when the 
 resources of light are abundant, we can not 
 surely plead our ignorance in justification of our 
 wrong-doings. To study the Word of God is 
 one duty, to come into the experience of the 
 Christian life is another. The best knowledge 
 which we have is the experimental. To teach a boy 
 how to swim, theoretically, would be a difficult 
 task ; he can only learn the art by plunging into 
 the water. So we can all give directions how 
 people ought to do under given circumstances ; 
 but they who have been placed there know best 
 what is needed. He who has overcome a fault 
 in his character, who has lived down and 
 
ig6 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 completely mastered a bad appetite, who has 
 changed over from sin to holiness, from selfish- 
 ness to love, is he whose life and words have 
 the greater force. There are those who claim 
 to know all there is to be known, to have seen 
 all there is worth seeing, and to be themselves 
 the embodiment of all goodness and wisdom. 
 Beware of them. 
 
 " A little learning is a dangerous thing," 
 
 and so is a little goodness. 
 
 Then, our weakness is to be overcome. 
 Many a one holds back, does little, says very 
 little, and is quite distrustful on account of a 
 sense of littleness — weakness. This truly is a 
 virtue in one sense; for it is said, "Let him 
 that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he 
 fall." No man should "think of himself more 
 highly than he ought to think." "Be not wise 
 in your own conceits." But we should be cau- 
 tious not to convert that which is a virtue over 
 into a vice. There is often great danger that 
 we shall do nothing because we can not do some 
 great thing, and thus we may lose what power 
 we have. "For whosoever hath, to him shall 
 be given, % and he shall have more abundance; 
 but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken 
 away even that he hath." Our very weakness 
 
LIFE AND ITS LESSONS. 1 97 
 
 is often our strength. A weak soul struggling 
 against fearful odds has usually the sympathies 
 of the wise and good on earth and in heaven. 
 "The race is not always to the swift, nor the 
 battle to the strong." Moses, by obeying God, 
 broke through the barriers of the sea, and es- 
 caped from the panoplied hosts of Egypt, by 
 smiting the waters with a rod. So, if we obey 
 God, and use our little prayers, with often 
 simple and poor sentences, and speak our trem- 
 bling words in human ears, though w r eak and 
 ill-chosen, God will make them mightier than 
 mailed hosts, and by them we shall lead many 
 a soul through seas of trouble to the broad 
 fields of heavenly delight. O, who is so weak as 
 not to be able to do a little good in this world? 
 Providence is not usually on the side of the 
 greatest talents, but rather with those of the 
 best hearts. He judges of us by our motives, 
 not by our capacities. The brilliant shine with 
 splendor, the strong achieve mighty deeds, the 
 swift-footed dash out of sight; but the perse'- 
 vering ones, though slow and weak, often win 
 the race. And in this world, where mortals have 
 a race to run, a work to do, a battle to fight, 
 the weak and timid often bear from thefield the 
 wreath of the victor, the crown of the conqueror. 
 But there are enemies to conquer in this life- 
 
lg8 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 battle — one grand enemy, in many divisions. 
 The Scriptures speak of this enemy as the 
 "world/' the " flesh," and the "devil." The 
 world represents all that which presents itself 
 to the eye, the taste, the touch. We are to 
 use the world ; but it must be in a subordinate 
 sense. This is the ladder on which we must 
 mount to the skies. We should conquer it, and 
 subject it to our good. From all that surrounds 
 us, all there is beneath our feet or above our 
 heads, we should receive discipline. Earth must 
 pay tribute to heaven. The flesh — the appe- 
 tites — that which belongs to the body, as well 
 as the body itself, must be brought into subjec- 
 tion to Christ. We are to cleanse ourselves 
 "from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit. " 
 Religion means cleanness of soul and body. 
 The Holy Spirit can not sanctify filth. Paul 
 taught men to pray for a "heart sprinkled from 
 an evil conscience, " but he did not forget to 
 add something about "bodies washed with pure 
 water." That clause was thrown in, I think, for 
 the benefit of some unwashed Christians among 
 those Hebrews. These bodies must be con- 
 quered, our appetites must be reached. We 
 must eat and drink to the glory of God, not 
 from mere feelings of selfishness. The devil 
 must be conquered. If not, he will conquer us. 
 
LIFE AND ITS LESSONS. 1 99 
 
 Good or evil will be triumphant in the life of 
 every mortal. Every soul will meet its reward 
 of peace, or doom of despair. The devil, 
 Satan, goeth about "like a roaring lion, seeking 
 whom he may devour. " Conquer him we may, 
 we can, we must, if we would have the sweet 
 fruition of the redeemed in heaven. 
 
 We hear those heavenly words, as they 
 come to us from off the isle of Patmos: "To 
 him that overcometh will I give to eat of the 
 bidden manna, and will give him a white stone, 
 and in it a name written, which no man knoweth 
 saving he that receiveth it." These words were 
 spoken not alone to the "Seven Churches," but 
 to every struggling soul. The angel of the 
 better life proclaims the message from the land 
 of glory. Those words fall on the ear of the 
 laboring man whose toil supports a dear, depend- 
 ent family; they say, Toil on, for the promise 
 is "to him that overcometh." To the student 
 who trims his midnight lamp, and girds himself 
 for the difficult hill of science, the angel calls, 
 "To him that overcometh." To the struggling 
 saint of God, when tempted, buffeted, tried as 
 in a furnace, the voice comes from out the 
 world invisible, saying, Struggle on, "Let us 
 not be weary in well-doing; for in due season 
 we shall reap, if we faint not." The loving 
 
200 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 Father sees his dear children toiling up life's 
 pilgrim way, but he lends a gracious hand, and 
 makes the struggle a blessing. 
 
 There is indeed a sweetness in the victory 
 we may gain. Every time we overcome any 
 difficulty we take a step higher on the ladder 
 of glory. When we tread beneath our feet 
 some passion, or some temper, we are on our 
 way to the skies. Whenever we gain a victory 
 over Satan we make him weaker, while we ob- 
 tain new strength ourselves for future conquests. 
 Hereafter shall we see " heaven open, " and 
 then it will be that angels shall come and 
 "minister unto us. " They will feed us on 
 "hidden manna." 
 
 The devout Jews held strongly to the tradi- 
 tion that the ark of the covenant, the tables of 
 stone, Aaron's rod, the holy anointing oil, and 
 the pot of manna were secretly hidden by their 
 king when Jerusalem was captured by the 
 Chaldean army, but that when the Messiah 
 should come he would restore all these sacred 
 objects, and they would ever remain the sym- 
 bols of their power and glory. And so he 
 does. "To him that overcometh will I give to 
 eat of the hidden manna." All that has been 
 lost by sin is brought back by Christ. He said 
 he had bread to eat of which the world did not 
 
LIFE AND ITS LESSONS. 201 
 
 know. So he feeds us on il hidden manna." 
 O, the present sweetness there is in the victory 
 of faith! "And this is the victory that over- 
 cometh the world, even our faith." 
 
 The overcoming Lord is always in sympathy 
 with the overcoming disciple. "I have over- 
 come the world," said Jesus. We shall over- 
 come it, too, if we are in Christ. The world, 
 the flesh, the devil, were never conquered out- 
 right until Jesus met and mastered them, until 
 he suffered and rose again from the grave 
 the third day. That was the triumph of hu- 
 manity over death and the grave, and be- 
 cause he lives we shall live also. Now, how 
 beautiful the figure, "I will give him a white 
 stone, and in the stone a new name written, 
 which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth 
 it." The white stone, in ancient times, was a 
 very significant symbol. It had the meaning 
 of pardon, absolution, in Roman jurisprudence. 
 When the judges cast white pebbles the culprit 
 was acquitted; when they cast black ones he 
 was condemned. So the white stone meant 
 acquittal. God will acquit us if we have faith 
 in Jesus, and if we are obedient to his law- — if 
 we "overcome." 
 
 The white stone was used among the Greeks 
 in the celebrations of Olympic Games. He 
 
202 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 who conquered sometimes received a white 
 stone with his name inscribed on it, which 
 made the owner a public ward, the guest of the 
 nation, and his honor was loudly proclaimed. 
 The conquering Christian shall have glory and 
 honor, and be exalted to the right-hand of God. 
 
 The white stone was given as a token of 
 admittance to feasts, and also as a ticket en- 
 titling the holder to receive rich and valuable 
 presents in the public distributions of garments, 
 gold, or grain. And again, it was given as a 
 badge of friendship between individuals and 
 families, binding them in an unbroken and per- 
 petual alliance. In this case the stone was cut 
 into two equal parts, on which each of the 
 parties engraved his own name, and then they 
 interchanged with each other. These were, 
 carefully preserved, and handed down to pos- 
 terity in their respective families. This tessera 
 hospitalism, like the custom of eating salt among 
 the Arabs and Indians, was a bond of friendship 
 that must not be broken. 
 
 To the Christian, how significant is the 
 promise of the "white stone!" It signifies 
 the pardon of sin, the witness of the Spirit, 
 and eternal life. "I will give unto them 
 eternal life." It signifies an heirship to the 
 wealth of heaven, and shall be our passport to 
 
LIFE AND ITS LESSONS. 203 
 
 the glories of the upper kingdom. It admits 
 us to the banquet of the King, and entitles the 
 holder to the gifts of God. It means the 
 friendship of heaven. Our Redeemer will rec- 
 ognize the token. We have his name; he ours. 
 We represent him on the earth, bearing his 
 image; he represents us in heaven, bearing our 
 flesh. He binds himself to us so long as we 
 are true to him. "Nevertheless, the foundation 
 of God standeth sure, having this seal, The 
 Lord knoweth them that are his ; and, Let every 
 one that nameth the name of Christ depart 
 from iniquity." 
 
 Every, true Christian is an overcomer, a 
 victor. There is not one soul in heaven that 
 has not gone up there a victor in some sense. 
 All wear the chaplet of the conqueror. As the 
 victorious chieftain comes home from war, and 
 the streets of the city are thronged with multi- 
 tudes who greet him with shouts of applause, 
 so the angels of heaven greet the triumphant 
 soul as it enters the gates of the New Jerusalem. 
 
 " Death wounds to cure; we fall, we rise, we reign! 
 Spring from our fetters; fasten in the skies, 
 Where blooming Eden withers in our sight. 
 Death gives us more than was in Eden lost." 
 

 
m^mpss nnh Jt$i* 
 
" Who learns and learns, but acts not what he knows, 
 Is one who plows and plows, but never sows." 
 
 " When fain to learn we lean into the dark, 
 And grope to feel the floor of the abyss, 
 Or find the secret boundary lines which mark 
 
 Where soul and matter kiss. 
 Fair world! These puzzled souls of ours grow weak, 
 
 With beating their bruised wings against the rim 
 That bounds their utmost flying* when they seek 
 The distant and the dim. 
 
 We pant, we strain, like birds against their wires; 
 
 Are sick to reach the vast and the beyond ; 
 And what avails, if still to our desires 
 Those far-off gulfs respond? 
 
 Contentment comes not, therefore ; still there lies 
 
 » 
 
 An outer distance when the first is hailed, 
 And still forever yawns before our eyes 
 An utmost — that is veiled. " 
 
<& 
 
 f)afkqe^ &qd I<i^t. 
 
 E often stand perplexed and ap- 
 palled before the many dark prob- 
 lems which confront us at almost 
 every step in life. 
 
 How much there is that is mysterious 
 about us continually ! Darkness, thick 
 and gloomy, settles down on us, and we 
 are bewildered. Shall it be so forever? 
 Will the time ever come when these 
 clouds shall vanish, when the mists will 
 rise, and the sun shine out in all its 
 glorious brightness on the soul? We 
 wait, we hope, we trust. 
 I desire in this chapter to consider the sub- 
 ject of human knowledge. It has to do with 
 our comfort and peace. 
 
 There are three, main thoughts which at once 
 
 present themselves to the mind. One relates to 
 
 207 
 
208 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 the limitation of our knowledge in our present 
 state, another to the subordination of that 
 knowledge to the ends of virtue and individual 
 development, and still another to the question 
 of the future of our being. . What shall we 
 know hereafter, when we come into the realm 
 of pure spirit-life? What shall be the nature 
 and extent of our knowledge then? Of course, 
 so vast a subject can only be glanced at in my 
 limited space. 
 
 That upon all subjects which employ our 
 faculties here we have but a partial knowledge 
 is a truth which no one will call in question. 
 Human society has been forming through these 
 thousands of years, and in them all, from the 
 days of Tubal Cain, "an instructor of every 
 artificer in brass and iron," down to the days 
 of Tyndall, the mind has been actively delving 
 into mysteries every-where, seeking after the 
 grand arcana of nature; and yet how limited is 
 that knowledge ! how far we are from a perfect 
 mastery in the realm of thought! I am not 
 forgetful of the fact that the mind has gained 
 much. Indeed, we often wonder at the great 
 extent of human knowledge, for it is very great 
 in the aggregate; but then who has perfect 
 knowledge on any subject? The astronomers 
 of the world can not tell us whether the nearest 
 
DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 209 
 
 planets are inhabited or not. The stars in the 
 heavens no one can number on account of their 
 multitude, and the only knowledge we have of 
 them is expressed in a comparatively few simple 
 statements. The air around and above us has 
 its laws, and yet in only a few instances have 
 we determined with any degree of accuracy the 
 aerial currents. Our protection against storms 
 might be quite complete if we knew enough. 
 We know something of the globe on which we 
 live; but only in a few places have mankind 
 looked into its deep recesses. Who knows 
 really any thing about the center of the earth? 
 Chemistry has made known to us some of the 
 laws which govern matter; but, compared w r ith 
 what it may yet teach us in its further unfold- 
 ings, all we have learned is no more than the 
 alphabet of twenty-six letters, when compared 
 to all the books in the English language. 
 
 What botanist can tell all about the vegetable 
 world? Not one. What anatomist knows all 
 about the human body? Not one. What geol- 
 ogist can tell all about the formations of rock 
 which compose the earth's crust? Not one. 
 We stand almost paralyzed before the infinity 
 of science, before any single science. The nat- 
 uralist will tell you that any one of the numer- 
 ous insect tribe would constitute the study of a 
 
 14 
 
210 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 man's whole life-time. The wing of a beetle 
 can be fully comprehended only when we have 
 mastered the whole science of mechanics. The 
 animalculae of a single drop of stagnant water 
 may be studied for years without exhausting 
 the subject. The sun has been flooding the 
 valleys and frescoing the hill-tops of earth these 
 ages, and yet we do not know really what light 
 is — whether it is a mere vibration of some kind, 
 or matter in its most attenuated form. We 
 suppose the former. Before the growing flow- 
 ers in our gardens, the mightiest intellect of 
 man is confounded. .No one can tell how they 
 grow, nor by what strange law their petals are 
 variegated with such exquisite beauty. How 
 do these pigments reach their places, and blend 
 in such delicate and beautiful shadings? Let 
 him answer who can. 
 
 And so of the still more profound laws of 
 our being. The wonderful power which sets 
 this heart beating in our infant-life, and keeps it 
 in motion day and night until we die in green 
 old age, who can explain? How does the soul 
 exist in this bodily framework? Where is its 
 seat of power and energy? How is the body 
 perpetuated from year to year? And so on. 
 I might cover whole pages with questions which 
 have never yet been answered by mortal. The 
 
DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 2 1 1 
 
 process of acquiring knowledge is like ascending 
 some mountain-side. The higher we rise the 
 wider becomes the range of our vision. The 
 more we study the less we seem to know. To 
 our minds the universe continually expands 
 through deeper depths and wider fields of space. 
 The mightiest telescope yet constructed has 
 only ^looked into the vestibule of God's great 
 temple. The grand arches and aisles and 
 chancels will be seen only when this mortal 
 shall have put on its immortality. 
 
 What do we know of spirit-life in the unseen 
 world? Only a few intimations have been given 
 .us. There is an impenetrable veil which hides 
 that land from this, and the whole world of 
 humanity stands waiting for the curtain to rise. 
 Every one looks over the river and wonders. 
 A mystery hangs over the tomb ; a silence that 
 almost oppresses us rests on the place of the 
 dead. No voice speaks to us audibly out of 
 the deep eternity. Millions are ever asking, 
 "If a man die, shall he live again?" Scarcely 
 one doubts it — perhaps not one. 
 
 We often lose sight of the fact that we know 
 so little in our exultations over what we do 
 know, whereas there should be in us a profound 
 humility that our knowledge is so circum- 
 scribed; and yet with that humility we may 
 
212 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 cherish a desire to know all things. Our 
 knowledge of the universe in which we live is 
 fittingly compared to looking at objects in a 
 glass. We see images, dim and shadowy, of 
 things in heaven and things in earth; but often 
 only images. Nothing is seen in perfection. 
 We behold the outlines, the forms, and these 
 only. It was well said, "Now we see through 
 a glass darkly." O, the invisible world! 
 
 The knowledge which the world possesses 
 has come slowly. The powers or forces of 
 nature should have been better understood ages 
 ago. That they were not is because men have 
 been so sordid, selfish, brutish. And conse- 
 quently we have not been able to grapple with 
 nature, whose secrets are so deeply hidden. 
 Then, too, the limited knowledge we have is 
 apparent in the fact that we are always rectify- 
 ing our mistakes. New discoveries are being 
 made constantly. The machines we use to-day 
 will be superseded by other and better ones a 
 few years hence. That which satisfies us now 
 will fail to satisfy us by and by. Laws are 
 made this year, to be repealed next. Society 
 outgrows its old bounds in every place. The 
 present generation laughs at the generations 
 gone by; and we in turn will be laughed at for 
 our frailties, no less than our follies. 
 
DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 21 3 
 
 But I have spoken of the subordination of 
 our knowledge to the ends of virtue and of 
 development. It is most evident that we are 
 put here for a purpose which has reference to 
 ourselves. It does not seem reasonable to sup- 
 pose that our Heavenly Father needed man, 
 as he is on this earth, for His own glory alone. 
 He could have peopled this globe with angels 
 robed in garments of light and beauty. Nor do 
 I believe it was for the earth, to make it beau- 
 tiful and good, that man w r as placed here; for 
 God had power to make the earth as beautiful 
 as heaven is declared to be, and to keep it so 
 forever. I conclude, hence, that man's own 
 good was the chief end, and that end his devel- 
 opment in intellectual power and in moral good- 
 ness, and therefore that his knowledge should 
 contribute to his virtue. Let us see. Why 
 does knowledge not flow into the mind, as 
 water flows into natural depressions ? Why 
 was not the whole universe so planned that, 
 when the child is born into the world, some 
 battery having thought -giving power should 
 charge it to fullness of wisdom by a single 
 touch? Why are we not born, like Minerva in 
 classic story, from the brain of some great 
 Jupiter, in full development? I can furnish an 
 answer to this question, if to no other. God 
 
214 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 did not so plan our being. A higher and more 
 glorious end was to be subserved in our 
 creation. 
 
 We come into life with every thing to learn. 
 Jesus, on the human side of his nature, "grew 
 in wisdom and stature." We may easily see 
 that whatever nature has in her storehouse is 
 under lock and key; but the guardian angel 
 gives us the key, and bids us open and enter. 
 There is positively nothing hid from the grasp 
 of the mind, in its ultimate mastery. There is 
 not a principle which will not yet be made 
 plain. The bottom of the sea may yet be pho- 
 tographed. A telescope can be made, and will 
 be, capable of solving all the problems of the 
 starry world. The mind of man is equal to the 
 comprehension of all science, if unlimited time 
 be given. And that dim outline on which we 
 look to-day will grow ever brighter, until all 
 things shall be revealed, even the deep things 
 of eternity. 
 
 But this gathering of strength is not without 
 toil. Do we need valuable minerals for our 
 use? they are confined far down in the earth, 
 where man must burrow his way to obtain 
 them. Why were they not strewn over the 
 earth, to be merely picked up? Then we 
 should not have had the development of strength 
 
DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 21 5 
 
 which the seeking gives us, nor the cultivation 
 of wisdom and prudence acquired in the search. 
 For ages God said, Behold my lightning playing 
 on the clouds, use it. Man looked, wondered, 
 and waited, until gradually, after many trials, 
 he found out its use. Why did not the Lord 
 put up the telegraph-poles just where he knew 
 they would be needed, and stretch on them the 
 wire, by the "word of his power," ready for 
 our use, as he surely could have done? He 
 left it for us to discover the metal, learn how to 
 draw the wire, find out the non-conductor, as- 
 certain the mode of generating electricity, and 
 the art of applying it to our use, because of the 
 benefit it is for us to determine, by our own 
 mental actions, these great principles of nature. 
 And so of all that concerns us. Activity is 
 demanded — it is a law of our being. Where 
 one word of God could have directed us to the 
 greatest blessings of life, we are left to toil and 
 build through the weary years ; then to tear 
 down what we have built, and build over again. 
 He says to all men, "Toil on." He bids us 
 think our way through mazes of difficulties, 
 and grope our way out into light through 
 deepest darkness. The human spirit, in these 
 struggles, might almost complain at its hard 
 lot, did we not know that in this activity of 
 
2l6 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 brain and hand the Father has some plan whose 
 workings shall bring good to human nature. 
 
 " Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; 
 The clouds ye so much dread 
 Are big with mercy, and shall break 
 In blessings on your head." 
 
 All these disappointments of our life, these 
 reverses which we meet, these sad bereavements 
 we call disasters — they are not such — should not 
 always be looked at from the dark side; for 
 they are only the stony road to the hill of 
 ascension. They lead to our Olivet, where we 
 receive our glory. 
 
 Why has not the Father made all spiritual 
 truth unmistakably plain at a glance. I answer, 
 For the same reason that he has veiled in mys- 
 tery the truths of the outward world of matter. 
 He will have us think constantly, patiently, and 
 by the thinking grow stronger. The injunction 
 is laid upon us to "search the Scriptures/ ' 
 rather than merely to read them carelessly. 
 They are deep, and only to the searcher comes 
 the mine of their wealth. But, lest we miss of 
 heaven, he has made the essential part so plain 
 that "the wayfaring man, though a fool, need 
 not err therein.'' The sea is so vast and deep 
 that mighty ships are borne upon its bosom, 
 and yet it spreads out its waters on the shores 
 
DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 217 
 
 so shallow that a child may wade into it. And 
 so the Word of God has depths for the strongest 
 intellect, and yet comes down to the compre- 
 hension of a child. 
 
 Then we see that our knowledge of nature, 
 of God, of ourselves — in short, of all things — is 
 subordinated to our goodness. The active arm 
 is strongest — the used eye sees best. Our phys- 
 ical organization demands activity as a condition 
 of health. People who go through the world 
 without feeling the thrill of thought, the mere 
 drones of life, are violating the first laws of 
 their being. I believe that many are sick be- 
 cause their minds are too inactive. Health 
 means the right use of all our powers. The 
 body needs the stimulus of the mind; that is 
 its normal relation. Labor, whether of head or 
 hand or heart, not only develops us in point 
 of power, but it promotes virtue. Who, I ask, 
 commit the crimes which fester in society? 
 Who are the men who plunder, and plot de- 
 struction? Not the hardy sons of toil, who 
 feel that it is God-like to earn their bread by 
 the "sweat of their brow." Not the men and 
 women whose thoughts dwell on the great 
 truths which God has stored up in the universe. 
 Not they whose hearts beat with love for hu- 
 manity. Not those who are ever expectant of 
 
2l8 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 the glories which shall be revealed. No; but 
 the idlers by the wayside of life. Thinking is a 
 virtuous act. 
 
 But by this condition of our being, that de- 
 mands toil, that sends men climbing the mount- 
 ains, delving into the earth after its concealed 
 treasures, patiently thinking out the problems 
 of life, discovering the unseen, making life's 
 reckonings beneath cloudy skies, as the ship 
 rolls and heaves in its voyage, does God thus 
 speak our destiny? I answer, Yes. The uni- 
 verse was made for thoughtful beings, such as 
 we. This mighty volume is spread out for us 
 to read, to understand. The wisest man who 
 walks the earth this hour is only in the infant- 
 school of God, learning the simplest lessons. 
 But his mission is to learn on. He is to be 
 advanced to sublime heights of knowledge in 
 the future of his being. The world is yet to be 
 unfolded to the mind of the race. There is not 
 a truth of matter, or of spirit, which is not yet 
 to be known. The mission of the human in- 
 tellect, in this world even, is to know all things 
 pertaining to the world, to understand every 
 mystery, to have control of every force, and to 
 use for its' own advancement every substance 
 which God has made. There are yet to be 
 discoveries in science of which we have not at 
 
DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 2I9 
 
 present even the remotest conception. Nor will 
 the earth be destroyed until this grand mission 
 of humanity is fulfilled; for in the beginning 
 God gave man " dominion " over the sea, the 
 air, and the earth, with power to " multiply and 
 replenish and subdue the earth." Then, too, in 
 this all-conquering effort, men shall rise to 
 higher virtue. This wonderful elevation will 
 ennoble the heart of the race, and thus the very 
 earth itself contribute to our redemption, all 
 things working together for our good. 
 
 But what about the knowledge we shall have 
 in the future ! A little while ago I was speaking 
 of the limitation of our knowledge in the pres- 
 ent life, and I tried to show that the wisest 
 of mankind know comparatively little, that all 
 we do know is expressed by the words of an 
 apostle as seeing " through a glass darkly." 
 And yet there is another side to be viewed. 
 The human mind is most wonderful in its 
 powers. When I say that a map has been con- 
 structed of the bottom of the sea, where light 
 has not even penetrated, and which no eye has 
 seen but the eye of the Omniscient One; when 
 I state that the metallic substances which enter 
 into the composition of a star, so distant from 
 us that a ray of light, traveling through space 
 at the rate of nearly two hundred thousand 
 
220 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 miles in a second of time, will not reach us in 
 some hundreds of years, can yet be told with 
 accuracy; when I state that mathematical sci- 
 ence can point out the precise moment when 
 the shadow of an eclipse fell on the Pyramids 
 of Egypt in the days of the Pharaohs; when 
 these things are viewed as mere indications of 
 the powers of the mind now, we naturally ask, 
 What will be the future of the intellect when 
 these dull bodies, that now hamper and fetter 
 us, shall be thrown off? When, in pure spirit- 
 ual life, we stand in eternity, "then shall we 
 know, even as also we are known." The deep 
 mysteries that now perplex these understandings 
 shall vanish away, as the frost melts in the 
 morning sun. The problems over which our 
 brains have fairly reeled in their efforts shall be 
 as clear as day. The earth, the sky, the high- 
 est heavens, all shall lie open before our gaze. 
 Light shall flash on the soul from the throne of 
 the Eternal. "The Lord God giveth them light, 
 and they shall reign for ever and ever." No 
 object shall be too minute for our inspection : 
 that which the physical eye can not see now — 
 the invisible — the soul's eye shall yet see. We 
 look up into space, and, lo, what majesty ap- 
 pears in those myriad stars! I have fancied it 
 was in the night season, on the shores of Tiberias, 
 
DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 221 
 
 when Jesus, pointing up to these stars, said to 
 his disciples, "In my Father's house are many 
 mansions;" as if he had said, "All these are 
 mine." We look with wonder on them now; 
 we shall yet visit them. We look through the 
 astronomer's glass, and far out in space, so far 
 that no arithmetic can express the distance so 
 that we shall comprehend it. Yet on the wings 
 of our spirits we shall go out into these fields, 
 farther than any telescope has power to reach. 
 We shall visit every room in God's great pal- 
 ace; for "when that which is perfect is come, 
 then that which is in part shall be done away." 
 We shall read the past history of the universe, 
 as it is written in lines of light all over the 
 worlds. Thought will be as free to roam as the 
 sun-ray is free in its passag'e through ethereal 
 spaces. "Then shall we know, even as also we 
 are known." Every science shall be mastered 
 in the mind-life of every redeemed soul. Every 
 principle of the universe, whether of matter or 
 spirit, shall be fully understood. 
 
 The only depth which will remain unfath- 
 omed, and unfathomable, will be that of In- 
 finity. The finite shall never fully know the 
 Infinite; and yet into that sea of Infinite Being 
 the soul will sink its plummet of thought 
 deeper and deeper, without ever the possibility 
 
222 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 of touching the depth of the Great Unsearch- 
 able. 
 
 " Touching the Almighty, we can not find 
 Him out." 
 
 We all think much about the heaven to 
 which we are journeying. How we have all 
 looked away toward a land of rest, where the 
 shadows will never fall in their gloom, where 
 the spirit will never pine, where the soul 
 shall dwell in purest light, and drink from 
 perennial fountains the "water of life!" But 
 where is heaven? This I shall consider else- 
 where in this book. Now we have only to do 
 with that life as it concerns our knowledge. 
 
 How mysterious to us have been the ways 
 of Providence in this world! How we have 
 wondered at the dealings of God to man ! Who 
 has not seen the husband separated from the 
 embrace of a loving wife, the child from the 
 parent, and parent from child? We can not call 
 it chance or fate ; we call it Providence. But, 
 as we have looked on the stricken wife and the 
 fatherless children, we have said, Why is an 
 event so sad permitted in a world over which a 
 holy and wise God rules? And while we have 
 looked and wondered and pitied, the thought 
 has come to us, "Then shall I know, even as 
 also I am known." Ah, our knowledge shall 
 
DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 223 
 
 extend through fields greater and more wonder- 
 ful than mere science. It shall take in its 
 sweep a wider range, that of immortal destinies 
 and the ways of God. We shall understand 
 the mysteries of redemption, which the angels 
 desired to look into, and were not able, because 
 they could not experience redeeming grace. 
 How we have wondered at the mysterious plan 
 of salvation, the shedding of blood for human 
 sin, the sufferings of Christ, the strange union 
 of divinity with humanity, and the resurrection 
 of the dead. O how wonderful ! Yet all these 
 shall be plain to us when we appear before 
 God in the upper kingdom. 
 
 And then, how often has the question been 
 asked, Shall we know each other in heaven? 
 Who can doubt it? We shall see the Lord of 
 glory, face to face ; we shall behold patriarchs, 
 prophets, apostles, martyrs, and saints, of 
 whom we have read. We shall see them ; we 
 shall hold sweet converse with them — yes, and 
 know them. Surely, we shall know each other 
 there, even better than we do in this life. It 
 can not be that we shall know less there than 
 we do here. There are those there this day 
 whom we love, who walk in white. They are 
 before the throne of God ; they wait, fondly 
 wait for our coming. Shall we know them — ■ 
 
224 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 they us? Vain question. The husband and 
 wife, long parted, shall meet each other; the 
 parent and child shall join in happy spiritual 
 union. Friends long separated from each other 
 shall reunite, in bonds never more to be 
 broken. 
 
 We can afford to toil up the steep ascent, 
 the rugged cliffs of life. We can afford to fight 
 heroically on every battle-field of the flesh, for 
 the winning day will come. We can afford to 
 wait patiently for the morning of our true life, 
 for its coming bringeth joy. We can afford to 
 labor hard in the search after our true wealth; 
 for its finding is certain, and its value untold. 
 God has bottled thy tears. He has numbered 
 thy sighs and counted all thy sorrows, and thy 
 labors are not lost. "He that goeth forth and 
 weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless 
 come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves 
 with him." Now poor, then rich; now ignorant, 
 then wise ; now sick, then well ; now bound, then 
 free ; now in darkness, then in light. Here mor- 
 tal, there immortal; here weak, there strong; 
 here in danger, there in safety. 
 
 In the words of that eminent lady, Hannah 
 More, I close this chapter: 
 
 " Here my best thoughts are stained with guilt and fear; 
 But love and pardon shall be perfect there. 
 
DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 225 
 
 Here my best duties are defiled with sin ; 
 There all is ease without and peace within. 
 Here feeble faith supplies my only light ; 
 There faith and hope are swallowed up of sight. 
 Here things, as in a glass, are darkly shown ; 
 There I shall know as clearly as I 'm known. 
 Here error clouds the will and dims the sight ; 
 There all is knowledge, purity, and light. 
 Here, so imperfect is this mortal state, 
 If blest myself, I mourn some other's fate ; 
 At every human woe I here repine ; 
 The joy of every saint shall there be mine. 
 Here on no promised good can I depend ; 
 But there the Rock of Ages is my friend. 
 Here, if some sudden joy delight inspire, 
 The dread to lose it damps the rising fire ; 
 But there, whatever good the soul employ, 
 The thought that 't is eternal crowns the joy." 
 
 15 
 
 
lip jltluaj JBroraj* 
 
" All is of God! If he but wave his hand 
 
 The mists collect, the rain falls thick and loud, 
 Till with a smile of light on sea and land, 
 
 Lo ! he looks back from the departing cloud. 
 Angels of life and death alike are his; 
 
 Without his leave they pass no threshold o'er. 
 Who then would wish or dare, believing this, 
 
 Against his messengers to shut the door?" 
 
 ' O God omnipotent! who in me wrought 
 This conscious world, whose ever-growing orb, 
 When the dead past shall all in time absorb, 
 Will be but as begun— O, of thine own, 
 Give of the holy light that veils thy throne, 
 That darkness be not mine, to take my place 
 Beyond the reach of light, a blot in space ! 
 So may this wondrous life, from sin made free, 
 Reflect thy love for aye; and to thy glory be." 
 
XI. 
 
 m 
 
 %9 
 
 ¥\e gilvef fining. 
 
 T was a severe trial to my feelings 
 to lay away the forms of my dear 
 children in the grave, and to know 
 that they must decay, to know that I 
 could never see them again until I too 
 entered the Summer land of immortality, 
 that the little precious bodies must dis- 
 solve back into original elements and 
 disappear. It was quite hard to think 
 of those little, and once sensitive, bodies 
 as being away off in the cemetery, under 
 the snows of Winter. No affectionate 
 parent ever yet went through this experience 
 without feeling the keenness of the grief; and 
 no intelligent and trustful one ever did this 
 without feeling, after all, that it was God's plan, 
 and therefore was right and best. 
 
 
 229 
 
230 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 " I murmur not; I know that thou 
 
 In righteousness hast worked thy will; 
 Beneath thy chastening hand I bow, 
 And trust thee as my refuge still." 
 
 The question with us is not what the Infinite 
 Father might have done, but what he has done, 
 in arranging things for his children in this world. 
 
 I think it was La Place, the great French 
 mathematician, who irreverently said that if 
 God had consulted him when he made the 
 universe, he could at least have offered him 
 some good suggestions. Well, possibly, after 
 all, he was as much entitled to the merit of 
 frankness as chargeable with the sin of blas- 
 phemy; for I find, from my observations of 
 human nature, very often the existence of these 
 same feelings in others, only that they are dif- 
 ferently expressed. Indeed, there are very few 
 of us who have not at times felt, if we have not 
 given expression to, the murmuring spirit — we, 
 too, would have things otherwise than they are. 
 What father buries his child away from his sight 
 without wishing it were otherwise? 
 
 But let me direct your thoughts for a mo- 
 ment to this world, in which we "live, move, 
 and have our being. " I am frank to admit that 
 I would not have constructed the earth as it is. 
 Mark you, I do not say I could have made a 
 
THE SILVER LINING. 23 1 
 
 better one. But then, would I have made the 
 earth with such extremes of heat and cold? 
 Would I have wrapped one portion in perpetual 
 snow and ice, and another in belts of almost 
 unendurable heat? Would I have spread out 
 vast deserts of sand and rock, mocking at the 
 life of man and beast? Would I have set the 
 earth itself into tremors with pent-up forces 
 within, often making the habitations of mankind 
 a desolation by the outbursting of volcanic fires ? 
 Would I have so placed the earth in space as 
 to make one-half of the year in one latitude a 
 cheerless Winter, enrobing every thing in the 
 garments of at least seeming death, while in 
 another portion the people should be doomed 
 to swelter in unabating tropical heat? Would I 
 have sent men digging into the earth thousands 
 of feet, to find the articles needful for human 
 comfort and use? Would I have sent men 
 climbing the mountain heights and braving 
 ocean dangers, to hold companionship, or carry 
 on necessary trade with each other? Take it 
 to yourself. Would you have destined man- 
 kind to be the slaves of toil, and the helpless 
 victims of disease and death? Would you 
 have sent the widow forth to battle lone-handed 
 with the hardships of life? O no. Left to 
 you and me, dear reader, the world would 
 
232 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 have been very different from what we now 
 find it. 
 
 But then, let us remember that we would 
 have constructed things with reference only to 
 the present. God has made them in view of 
 the future, and for the good of all. We would 
 have planned for our ease and selfishness. God 
 has planned for the spiritual development of his 
 children in "the life that now is, and in that 
 which is to come." We would have made the 
 world, as man makes every thing else, full of 
 contradictions and mistakes. He has made it 
 on a model as far above our thoughts as he, 
 the Infinite himself, is above us in the attributes 
 of his glorious being. He has placed us here, 
 amid icy poles and burning tropics, to burrow 
 in the mountain side and battle with the angry 
 billows. He has put us w T here earthquakes 
 rock, and where tempests beat, and where de- 
 struction wastes and pestilences walk, and where 
 the stricken tree-bough drops, and where the 
 subtile poison lurks in the cup of the beautiful 
 flower, where sickness blanches the cheek of 
 youth, and death palsies the arm of the strong 
 man. He has placed us where Winter wraps 
 us in his chilly mantle, where frozen fetters 
 bind the energies of man, and where Summer 
 heats scorch and blister and kill, until the very 
 
THE SILVER LINING. 233 
 
 earth at times seems to call in the ear of God 
 with a cry of distress. 
 
 But then, these very conditions point us to 
 some more congenial clime, some "better land." 
 These all point to a life not measured, nor yet 
 measurable, with the years of our present life. 
 Nature is ever pointing us to something beyond. 
 We need something which this world is too 
 poor, alas ! to give us. It will not do for us, 
 then, to charge God with folly; to lay on his 
 works the little rule of our feeble judgment, 
 and say, Why hast thou done this? or, Why 
 hast thou made us so? It is well that over all 
 the universe one Supreme Mind has sway; that 
 all things were made and are upheld by one 
 whose wisdom and love equal his power. 
 
 I went to my dear child's grave in the early 
 Spring, and, as I sat there musing, the beauti- 
 ful words of Solomon came to my mind with 
 much comfort: "For, lo, the Winter is past, 
 the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear 
 on the earth ; the time of the singing of birds is 
 come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in 
 our land; the fig-tree putteth forth her green 
 figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a 
 good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and 
 come away." As I sat there by my dead, and 
 thought of the present and the future, of death 
 
234 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 and of the resurrection, I was impressed with 
 these beautiful words. Their spiritual meaning 
 came up in my mind, and gave the cloud a 
 beautiful lining of silvery brightness. 
 
 Solomon wrote of Palestine, where the Win- 
 ters have in them nothing of the severity which 
 is peculiar to this cold climate of ours. There 
 the Winters were, rather, " rainy seasons," with 
 snow occasionally in small quantities. Only on 
 the lofty mountain peak was it ever abundant. 
 "The rain is over and gone," meant that Win- 
 ter was past, and that Summer had once more 
 come, with its warm breath, over all the land. 
 Palestine was a land of flowers. They grew so 
 abundantly, and were so rich and variegated, 
 that they gave the face of the country a peculiar 
 and charming tint. "The flowers appear on 
 the earth," meant that beautiful Summer had 
 come with its cheer. 
 
 God has sent his birds every-where. As a 
 sort of living pendulum, they swing with the 
 sun from north to south, and south to north 
 again. In every land these heralds of sunny 
 days, these forerunning messengers of the har- 
 vest-time, the musicians of nature, make vocal 
 hill and dale, grove and garden, forest and 
 meadow, with hymns of praise which the Great 
 Father hears and accepts. "The time of the 
 
THE SILVER LINING. 235 
 
 singing of birds is come." And then that 
 plaintive cooing of the turtle-dove had a pecul- 
 iar and thrilling significance. It was the un- 
 failing sign of harvest, and gave assurance of 
 God's goodness in sending promised blessings 
 of fruitful fields. "The voice of the turtle is 
 heard in our land." 
 
 Then was the time for the buds to burst, 
 and the blossoms to open in all their beauty 
 and richness, and send their fragrance on the 
 passing breeze. Then was the time for the 
 fruit to form on the pendent boughs, and grow 
 to lusciousness in figs, in grapes; in our land, 
 in apples, pears, plums, peaches, cherries. 
 "The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and 
 the vines with the tender grape give a good 
 smell." 
 
 No one can fail to appreciate the coming of 
 Summer. How sweet and cheery, how buoy- 
 ant and hopeful, is Summer! and how impatient 
 we become as she seems to linger, while the 
 cold winds blow from the north, and the clouds 
 hang in heavy, somber masses in the sky, and 
 the buds seem to shrivel, and birds hide away 
 in nook and cranny, and we sit, with closed 
 doors and crackling fires, wearied with in- 
 door life ! And is it to be wondered at 
 that people sigh for Summer breezes and 
 
2$6 INSIDE TH£ GATES. 
 
 sunshine, rippling waters and the melody of 
 birds? 
 
 But this impatient nature of ours soon tires 
 of the sun-ray, the long, hot days, the dry and 
 sultry atmosphere, and the dust, which, in spite 
 of all our modern improvements, will creep 
 through every crevice, insinuating its unwel- 
 come presence into every drawer, which soils 
 the clean linen, settles without leave or license 
 on every shelf, covers the gilt of the mirror, 
 and tarnishes your purest china — I say, this 
 impatient human nature, that becomes so weary 
 of Winter, with its damp and snow and cold, is 
 soon equajly wearied with dryness, dust, and 
 heat. The pleasure -seeker complains of the 
 shower which spoils the evening drive, and the 
 farmer murmurs at the "dry spell" that threat- 
 ens his crops. We all sit in our heated cham- 
 bers, fanning ourselves, and panting, and sighing 
 for some cooler place. What an unsatisfied 
 thing human nature is! If it never rained until 
 all were agreed as to time, place, and quantity, 
 the earth would parch. It would not be possi- 
 ble, with our present constitutions, for even 
 God to create a climate to please every body. 
 Some prefer Winter's cold, others luxuriate in 
 Summer's heat. 
 
 We should remember that our Heavenly 
 
THE SILVER LINING. 237 
 
 Father has not consulted the tastes and wishes 
 of any one class of persons, but has arranged 
 the universe so as to subserve the greatest good 
 of the greatest number; and often the present 
 seeming good of the individual is lost in the 
 greater good of the whole. It is better that 
 one should suffer than many. 
 
 The coming of Summer, after a long and 
 tedious Winter, must always impress upon our 
 minds one thought in particular; namely, that 
 of God's providential care over the world, and 
 over us. Look out on the earth in Winter- 
 time, when the snows are on the ground, w T hen 
 the leaves are off the trees, and not one green 
 blade of grass is seen in all the earth about us, 
 and the earth itself is frozen, and the chill 
 blast sweeps and howls, and the gardens and 
 fields are desolate. Did we not know that this 
 is one of nature's methods, we would turn away 
 tearfully, as from her funeral pyre. 
 
 But we know, by our experience and obser- 
 vation, that this dead shall live again ; that these 
 boughs shall put forth their leaves and blossoms ; 
 that these branches shall bear fruit in the season 
 which God has appointed. We know there is 
 a power in nature, a vital force, which may be 
 suspended without being extinct — a power we 
 can best see in its effects. 
 
238 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 Now, sitting here by the grave, in the soft 
 days of the beautiful Spring, I am led to think 
 of these ways of God. There are evidences all 
 around us in our life of an unseen intelligent 
 power, a power which glows in the sun, sparkles 
 in the diamond, throbs in the wave-pulse of the 
 mighty ocean, blooms in the rose, flashes in the 
 lightning's gleam! yes, a power which comes to 
 us, moves in our life, governs our being, con- 
 soles us in the time of our troubles, quickens our 
 spiritual natures, feeds us, cheers us, and draws 
 us heavenward, as the sun draws up the green 
 grass to carpet the earth when the snows are 
 gone. That power is God, our Heavenly Fa- 
 ther. He is in all things. 
 
 He who can make the grass spring out of 
 the hardened soil, and cause the roots to send 
 forth their stalks, and the boughs their foliage 
 and fruits, he can raise us up also to a new life. 
 He can take our feet out of the "horrible pit" 
 of sin, and place them on the Rock of Ages. 
 He can make our lives radiant. There is a 
 power at work in human hearts to make them 
 bloom in the beauty of spiritual Summer, just 
 as surely as there is a sun which dissolves the 
 snows or chases away the darkness of night. 
 There is a power which comes to enrobe us in 
 garments of the true life. The ever -blessed 
 
THE SILVER LINING. 239 
 
 Gospel of Jesus, which tells of the resurrection 
 of the dead and the immortality of the soul, is 
 the Summer-time of the great world's cycle. 
 
 But the coming forth of Summer indicates to 
 the mind not only this personal resurrection 
 from spiritual death in the soul, but it symbol- 
 izes the final and glorious resurrection of the 
 pure in heart to eternal life. I do not say that 
 the coming forth of vegetation in Spring-time 
 proves that the soul is immortal, or that the 
 dead shall rise, but I do say that it proves the 
 possibility of such a coming forth. 
 
 Go and stand in yonder cemetery during the 
 last days of Winter. The white tombstones all 
 around tell of the dear departed, whose pulseless 
 breasts are there beneath the ground. The leaf- 
 less branches which swing to and fro, and the 
 crisped grass which crackles beneath your foot- 
 fall tell of the departed life which gave verdure 
 and blossom in the days gone by. Then, as 
 yo'u stand there, ask, Shall these dead, from be- 
 neath these mounds, come forth to a new life? 
 Ask one who disbelieves the Scriptures, and he 
 tells you it will be impossible; ask another, and 
 he will tell you it is not probable; ask still an- 
 other, and he will tell you it is a great mystery. 
 But, I ask, dares any man say the dead can not 
 live again? Can not the power that once gave 
 
24O INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 them life and being give it back again? Is it 
 mysterious? So is life in any form a mystery. 
 And while you stand there amid the lonely 
 tombstones, questioning yourself about the 
 long-departed, asking, "If a man die, shall he 
 live again?" — and skepticism says, No, and out- 
 right infidelity sneers at the credulity of the 
 Christian who puts confidence in these prom- 
 ises — the winds die out, the soft South breezes 
 set to quivering the leafless branches, the warm 
 rain distills upon the soil from benignant skies, 
 the great sun swings relatively nearer, and these 
 lifeless trees begin to grow green, the buds 
 burst out into leaves and flowers, the earth 
 itself grows warm and heaves her bosom ; the 
 grass, like a new creation, comes forth in 
 beauty; and all nature in a few short days has 
 passed over from seeming death to life; all is 
 changed from cheerless Winter to blushing, 
 blooming, fragrant, and lovely Summer. 
 
 I say now, with emphasis, that the power 
 adequate to the production of this change in 
 the natural world is equal to the accomplish- 
 ment of all that is affirmed in the Christian 
 Scriptures concerning the resurrection of the 
 dead, and the mystery of the one is not any 
 greater than that of the other. We have seen 
 the resurrection of vegetation, and we believe it 
 
THE SILVER LINING. 24 1 
 
 possible because Ave have seen it. The resur- 
 rection of dead bodies we have not seen; but 
 the possibility of such an event no one dares 
 call in question who believes in the existence 
 of an omnipotent God, and who is observant 
 of nature. Its probability no one will question 
 who believes in the Scriptures. No more 
 clearly does the Bible say there shall be Sum- 
 mer and Winter, seed-time and harvest, while 
 the earth remains, than it declares we shall rise 
 from the dead in some mysterious way. Rea- 
 son, in her loftiest dicta, declares it possible; 
 analogy, in her many forms, confirms the voice 
 of reason. 
 
 And so, sitting at my graves in Spring-time, 
 I believe my dear children will rise again, in 
 God's way, and in God's time. 
 
 " And they, new rising from the tomb, 
 In luster brighter far shall shine; 
 Revive with ever. -during bloom, 
 Safe from diseases and decline. " 
 
 As the Winter has passed away, and the 
 
 flowers and birds have come, and the vine puts 
 
 forth her tender branches, so may a Summer 
 
 come in every human life. These restless 
 
 and impatient natures, under the leadings of 
 
 God, may become more trustful. These heavy 
 
 burdens of life shall grow lighter as we become 
 
 16 
 
242 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 stronger in faith and purer in heart. These 
 clouds, which so often hang with sullen and 
 threatening gloominess in our sky, shall become 
 pillars of fire to light us on our way through the 
 dark nights of our life -journey. These trials 
 shall test our faith, and make us holier. These 
 temptations shall be sources of moral power; 
 for as we overcome them we gain strength. 
 These troubles and sad bereavements shall, in 
 the Father's hand, fashion us into spiritual 
 beauty. These hard days and weary nights 
 shall be made in some way to yield us sunny 
 hours of sweet repose. These partings shall 
 only serve to draw us toward the land where 
 our dear ones are safely housed, where the 
 Winter blast cometh never, and the tear will 
 not dim the eye. O yes! The Winter, with 
 its coldness, will pass away; the Summer of 
 life's better day will come. God has prom- 
 ised it. The flowers will bloom in fadeless 
 beauty. The sky will know no cloud. Death 
 shall be unknown. Sin and sorrow shall be 
 banished. Light, above the brightness of the 
 sun, shall shine upon us. "And God shall 
 wipe away all tears from their eyes." 
 
Iitr Immuijkl filters* 
 
" I have learned 
 This doctrine from the vanishing of youth. 
 The pictured primer, true, is thrown aside ; 
 But its first lesson liveth in my heart. 
 I shall go on through all eternity. 
 Thank God ! I only am an embryo still, 
 The small beginning of a glorious soul, 
 An atom that shall fill immensity. " 
 
 " Here is no bootless quest; 
 
 The city's name is Rest. 
 
 Here shall no fear appal ; 
 
 Here love is all in all ; 
 Here shalt thou win thy ardent soul's desire; 
 Here clothe thee in thy beautiful attire. 
 
 Lift, lift thy wondering eyes ! 
 
 Yonder is Paradise ! 
 
 And this fair, shining band 
 
 Are spirits of that land ! 
 And these that throng to meet thee are thy kin, 
 Who have awaited thee, redeemed from sin. 
 The city gates unfold; enter, O enter in!" 
 
XII. 
 
 Ouf Immortal ^titui'e. 
 
 HE Scriptures unfold to us many 
 
 sublime and beautiful doctrines. 
 
 The correspondence between what we 
 
 naturally crave and what the blessed 
 
 Gospel teaches is so marked as to force 
 
 upon us the conviction of design. No 
 
 more certainly is the eye adapted to the 
 
 beam of light, or light made for the eve, 
 
 than are the truths set forth in the Bible 
 
 precisely suited to the varied cravings of 
 
 universal humanity. 
 
 Furthermore, among all these great truths 
 
 of the Bible, no one has a greater interest to us 
 
 all than that which relates to our immortal 
 
 future. That we are all passing away, is a trite 
 
 saying. Death, whatever that word means, is in 
 
 our world. The funeral cortege, the new-made 
 
 grave, the mourning weed, are 
 
 245 
 
 A 
 
 sights of our 
 
246 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 every-day life. But is death the end? Is there 
 a realm beyond the grave? St. Paul, in one 
 'place, exhorts us to look away from things seen 
 to things unseen. He evidently believed in a 
 life beyond the grave. In another place that 
 same writer spoke of our body as a tabernacle 
 that can be " dissolved/' taken to pieces; but 
 then he also tells us of our "house which is 
 from heaven." As the temple at Jerusalem was 
 to supersede the tabernacle of the wilderness, so 
 when we quit this life -journey there awaits us a 
 ' 'building of God, an house not made with 
 hands, eternal in the heavens." I say, then, it 
 is true that we are to live on. As a majestic 
 steamer glides along the river channel, and, 
 sweeping around the curve, disappears from 
 sight, so, when our friends die, they have just 
 passed the bend in life's great river. To die is 
 only to change; to take another step in life. 
 Death has taken the place of translation in our 
 world. We were born into this world, and 
 through death we shall be born out of it and 
 into the next. Death is the gateway to our 
 glorious and immortal future. Life does not 
 mean a certain number of years. Our life is 
 not limited and confined to the present world; 
 but it began when we began to be, and it shall 
 go on and on for evermore. 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 247 
 
 Then we must conclude there is nothing in 
 death to fear. It is not so much death as judg- 
 ment which we dread. Death may be attended 
 with physical pain; but nature makes provision, 
 in a benumbed sensibility, for this. The child 
 knows nothing of its birth ; perhaps we shall be 
 born into our new life without feeling the pains 
 which so many dread. Take away sin, and 
 there is nothing to fear in dying. "The sting 
 of death is sin." It is a blessed truth that we 
 are to live on. Our dear friends, who have parted 
 from us are ours yet. This idea of our per- 
 petual existence is something veritable ; it is not 
 a fiction of the imagination ; it is not a mere 
 tradition which has come down to us through 
 the ages. It is not more certain that we grow 
 hungry for food, or that we become wean- and 
 need rest, than it is true that all men expect to 
 live in some sphere beyond the grave. The 
 great procession of human life moves toward 
 the grave with a solemn tread — the old, the 
 young, the wise, the unwise, the good, the bad, 
 the prince, the beggar, the civilized, the savage ; 
 but all go there believing in the great hereafter. 
 Mankind can not be educated out of this belief. 
 That has been tried. Time may convert men 
 into giants or pigmies; climate may completely 
 change the color ; and habit, that determined 
 
248 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 ruler of our species, may create a new psycho- 
 logical man. He may live in palace or hut, 
 amid polar snows or burning tropics; but the 
 thought of the great hereafter of his being he 
 never loses. It goes with him by land and by 
 sea. It comforts him in the camp of the soldier 
 and in the shop of the artisan. Rob him of all 
 he owns; reduce him to want, to slavery; but 
 upward he gazes into the heavens, and believes 
 that he shall dwell there in some blessed estate. 
 Pope said of the "untutored Indian •.' , 
 
 " And thinks, admitted to yon equal sky, 
 His faithful dog shall bear him company." 
 
 There is in the human mind a natural desire 
 to know. Logic is only the true order of 
 thinking, a way of getting at the reason of 
 things. If it is true that we are immortal, how 
 shall we know it? Is it knowable? If it be 
 true that they whom we call dead are living in 
 some other and higher sphere of being; that we 
 too shall arrive at that state, meet them, know 
 them, converse with them, and love them, — what 
 truth could be more lofty and inspiring? The 
 thought thrills the soul, and makes every thing 
 else seem small and unimportant. 
 
 If man is immortal, it must be, then, because 
 of the creative act of God. His immortality is 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 249 
 
 an endowment of life. The soul or spirit life 
 of mankind is as much of an observable phe- 
 nomenon as the bodily life. We know of the 
 properties of matter. We are conversant with 
 the animal instincts ; we define them ; we write 
 books about them. Who will say we are defin- 
 ing and writing about nothing? We write about 
 this universal expectation of a future life, this 
 perpetual and unsatisfied longing. Who will 
 look away out over this longing and expectant 
 world, and say the millions are cherishing a 
 hope never to be realized? To doubt immor- 
 tality is to doubt nature itself; to deny it is to 
 deny the deepest convictions of the human 
 soul. Those convictions come not of education ; 
 they are not born of logical syllogisms. 
 
 Immortality has its foundation in our intui- 
 tions. There are some truths we know in this 
 way. Such are mathematical truths, called 
 axioms, which are not, properly speaking, 
 within the logical realm. It needs no labored 
 intellectual process to prove that the half of any 
 thing is less than the whole of it. I do not 
 say these self-evident truths can not be proved 
 systematically, but that any attempt in that 
 direction is superfluous. Let us take this matter 
 of the soul's immortality into the account as an 
 intuition; then I only need to say, "I know." 
 
250 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 I may not understand how I know. / only know. 
 The new-born babe, by an infallible law of its 
 being, turns to its mother's breast for nourish- 
 ment. That is an instinct, God's law for the 
 preservation of its tender life. The child knows 
 nothing of its true relations to the mother, nor 
 to the surrounding world ; all these it has yet to 
 learn. Now, in exactly the same way the human 
 mind turns toward its higher state. We may 
 not know all, as we shall by and by; but we 
 look up and away to God and our future life by 
 a law of our being, as surely as the child turns 
 to its mother's breast for nourishment. The 
 ideas of God and of the hereafter, though often 
 vague, are in the mind. We need no other 
 proof than that which the religious history of 
 the world gives us. 
 
 It may be said truly that mere desires and 
 longings do not sufficiently prove our immortal- 
 ity. I admit that a consciousness of our adapta- 
 tion to another state does not prove that I am 
 to possess that state. Men long after riches 
 who are destined to be poor. Many a woman, 
 that would grace a palace, lives in a hut. Many 
 a man works in the shop, who is competent to 
 be President. People desire to be happy, who 
 are ever unhappy. But then, I say, these in- 
 born desires, these unsatisfied longings of soul 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 251 
 
 for another state of being; the spiritual capaci- 
 ties, taken in connection with those deeper 
 feelings; the thought, deep-written on the soul; 
 these intuitions, which run out through all the 
 life of man, which express themselves in tem- 
 ples and images, flaming altars, bleeding victims, 
 and solemn services ; convictions of soul that will 
 be ever uppermost in human society, that will 
 cling to man from the cradle to the grave; feel- 
 ings of heart for which he stands ready to die ; 
 I say, these, all taken together, do prove some- 
 thing, after all. He who can explain away 
 these facts of human life gives proof that he can 
 believe any thing. The most credulous people 
 of all mankind are they who can accept the 
 cheerless teachings of infidelity. 
 
 Then, let me ask, is there any thing in the 
 teachings of Christianity on this point that con- 
 flicts with reason? Intuitions ask no aid from 
 logic. But still, let us not decry reason. On 
 the other hand, we should always be ready to 
 give "a reason for the hope that is within us. " 
 Every one who reasons upon this question, and 
 accepts the general facts of human life, must 
 come to the point of belief irr the spiritual, and 
 Hence in the doctrine of immortality. 
 
 The particular kind of argument so generally 
 made use of here is the analogical. It has been 
 
252 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 said by some that analogy proves nothing. 
 This is sometimes true, but not always so. I 
 find in my studies of nature that a crawling 
 worm is transformed into a beautiful butterfly, 
 which sweeps gracefully and airily about as on 
 wings of light. The butterfly is only the worm, 
 transmuted, expanded, beautified. Here, now, 
 is a fact which can not be denied. But what 
 has this to do with our immortality? It does 
 not prove that my child is living, or that I shall 
 live again in some glorified state, any more than 
 it proves that my horse or dog shall live again. 
 But then, here is an effect; where is the cause? 
 What power is there to transform the butterfly? 
 Is it only a blind principle in nature which 
 works out a result so grand? That can not be. 
 Our sense revolts at such a conclusion. There 
 is a benevolent, a wise, a powerful God, Creator 
 of all things. He it is who transformed the 
 worm. Then, may he not work out some such 
 change in us? May not we too pass into our 
 chrysalis state, and come forth on wings? The 
 power which transforms the worm can change 
 you. Here, in the Fatherhood of God, there is 
 an adequate intelligence, adequate goodness and 
 power. Hence, there is in this a possibility 
 which must be admitted; and thus I find an 
 answer to the objection brought against the 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 253 
 
 doctrine of the resurrection. Now, before any 
 one can reasonably affirm an impossibility that 
 any such thing can occur, he must dispose of 
 this testimony of nature. 
 
 Analogy may not in itself rise to the highest 
 form of proof; but, taken in connection with 
 the plain teachings of Scripture, with the intui- 
 tions of the mind, and along with the experi- 
 ences of Christians for these ages, it does prove 
 something, after all. It was in this light an 
 apostle spoke the words: "For we know that, 
 if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dis- 
 solved, we have a building of God, a house not 
 made with hands, eternal in the heavens." 
 
 This immortal principle in humanity is like 
 the vital germ in a grain of wheat — it is life 
 itself, and life-giving. A grain of wheat may 
 be sealed up in a vase, and kept from sunshine 
 and from rain, and thus never produce its like; 
 so the human spirit may be fettered by the 
 bonds of superstition, perverted by sin, stifled 
 with unbelief, and literally crushed out of being. 
 The vital germ in the grain of wheat can only 
 fulfill its mission when all the conditions essen- 
 tial to its proper development are met. There 
 must be congenial soil, moisture, and a certain 
 degree of warmth, or it will only decay in the 
 ground. So the human soul can only rise to its 
 
254 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 true state by education, by spiritual baptism, 
 God dwelling in man makes him grandly, glori- 
 ously immortal. 
 
 Intimately related to the question of our 
 immortality is that other subject which puzzles 
 so many, the resurrection of the dead. The old 
 question of Greek philosophy, propounded two 
 thousand years ago, is asked by the material 
 philosophers of to-day: "How are the dead 
 raised up? and with what body do they come?" 
 Let us look into it a moment. No doctrine is 
 set forth by the Savior and by the apostles with 
 more emphasis than that of the resurrection of 
 the dead. "The hour is coming, and now is, 
 when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son 
 of God, and they that hear shall live. 
 Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, in 
 the which all that are in the graves shall hear 
 his voice, and shall come forth; they that have 
 done good, unto the resurrection of life; and 
 they that have done evil, unto the resurrection 
 of damnation." (John v, 25-29.) "It is sown 
 a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body." 
 (1 Cor. xv, 44.) Equally certain is it written, 
 "Flesh and blood can not inherit the kingdom 
 of God." (1 Cor.xv, 50.) "With what body 
 do they come?" Not this literal body which 
 goes into the grave, surely! Admitting it to 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 255 
 
 be possible for the Almighty to give us this 
 identical body (for with him all things are possi- 
 ble), yet is it probable? Do the Scriptures bear 
 us out in the belief of a literal bodily resurrec- 
 tion? If this literal body is to come forth, then 
 the thousands of deformities are to be perpet- 
 uated in heaven through all eternity, else in 
 those cases a special miracle must interpose to 
 abolish literal deformities. If the literal body, 
 which goes into the grave, is to rise, then all 
 these bodily organs must be in heaven. But 
 these bodies are composed of blood and bone 
 and muscle ; oxygen, hydrogen, lime, and iron 
 enter into the formation of this body. Are 
 they to be made immortal? It can not be that 
 pure spiritual beings are to be materialized in 
 this way. 
 
 How, then, are we to understand the ques- 
 tion of the resurrection? I will illustrate my 
 meaning, hoping rather to confirm the reader's 
 belief in the doctrine than to drive him away 
 by enforcing belief in a dogma, against the 
 sober convictions of reason and the plain teach- 
 ings of Scripture. Let us not put up human 
 judgment in the room of revelation, but let us 
 properly interpret Scripture. I hold in my 
 hand, for example, a piece of crude carbon, in 
 the form of common charcoal. It is a black, 
 
256 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 unsightly thing, which leaves a mark on what- 
 ever it touches. I hold in my other hand a 
 beautiful diamond, queen of the jewels, which 
 gathers up the straggling rays of light into 
 bouquets of radiant beauty. But what is the 
 diamond? The carbon, changed, crystallized. 
 Chemists have tried to manufacture diamonds 
 out of charcoal, but no human science has so 
 far been able to accomplish it. Still, there is a 
 Power that can do the work. God can. We 
 know he has done it ; every flashing diamond 
 declares it. 
 
 This human body, as it goes into the grave, 
 is the crude carbon; the resurrection body is 
 the lustrous diamond, resplendent with all the 
 glory of heaven. There will be just such a 
 resurrection, shall I say a crystallization? My 
 child will have a body as much more beautiful 
 than the body which was laid in the casket as 
 the diamond is more beautiful than the charcoal. 
 John, on the Island of Patmos, was permitted 
 to see one of the glorified beings of heaven. 
 Possibly it may have been Enoch or Elijah, who 
 were translated bodily. His first impulse was 
 to fall down and worship one so lovely and so 
 God-like, but he was prevented from doing so. 
 "See thou do it not," said the angel; "for I 
 am thy fellow-servant, and of thy brethren the 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 257 
 
 prophets, and of them which keep the sayings 
 of this book. Worship God." 
 
 All this, you say, looks quite reasonable, but 
 does the Scripture allow of this interpretation? 
 Paul writes: "For we know that if our earthly 
 house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have 
 a building of God, an house not made with 
 hands, eternal in the heavens ; for in this [body] 
 we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed upon 
 with our house which is from heaven : if so be 
 that being clothed we shall not be found naked." 
 What is meant by ' ' house not made with 
 hands?" "house which is from heaven?" In 
 death, I have before said, we have the birth into 
 a new life. The grain, of necessity, must perish 
 before the new stalk can come forth. "There- 
 fore that which thou sowest is not quickened 
 [made alive], except it die: and that which thou 
 sowest, thou sowest not that body which shall be, 
 but bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or of 
 some other grain: but God giveth it a body as 
 it hath pleased him, and to every seed his own 
 body." (1 Cor. xv, 36-38.) 
 
 The body you sow is not the "body that 
 shall be," says Paul. Standing by the lifeless 
 form of my child I read: "Sown in dishonor, 
 raised in glory; sown in weakness, raised in 
 power; sown a natural body, raised a spiritual 
 
 17 
 
258 - INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 body." "For this corruptible must put on in- 
 corruption, and this mortal must put on immor- 
 tality. " "We shall not all sleep, but we shall 
 all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling 
 of an eye, at the last trump : for the trumpet 
 shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incor- 
 ruptible, and we shall all be changed." 
 
 To carry my figure out fully, it may be 
 proper for me to say that when a substance 
 crystallizes every impurity is thrown off. A 
 crystal always presents the substance of the 
 matter crystallized absolutely pure. The new 
 spiritual body, "the house which is from 
 heaven," will be perfectly pure, free from all 
 deformity; it will be a glorious body, a spiritual 
 substance like unto Christ in his glorified state. 
 "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and jt 
 doth not yet appear what we shall be ; but we 
 know that when he shall appear we shall be like 
 him, for we shall see him as he is." And so I 
 read: "As we have borne the image of the 
 earthy, we shall also bear the image of the 
 heavenly." 
 
 Immortality! There is a deep inspiration in 
 the thought. As from mountain-top to mount- 
 ain-top beacon-fires have answered each other, 
 and armies have been guided to victory, so in 
 the victorious march of faith humanity has had 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 259 
 
 its mountain-tops, where men have asked ques- 
 tions concerning the future, and received their 
 answers. On one of these I see Abraham of 
 old offering up Isaac; and, as he was about to 
 execute the decree that should send him' child- 
 less through the world, with crushed hopes, his 
 prophetic eye took in another mountain, sepa- 
 rated farther in time than space, where another 
 and grander offering bespoke the world's re- 
 demption. Abraham saw the day of Christ, 
 and was glad. Away yonder, in the dim and 
 shadowy distance, I see Job, reeling beneath 
 the strokes of an adverse providence, asking, 
 "If a man die, shall he live again?" And 
 across the valley of the centuries, from the 
 mount of God, is borne the message of Jesus, 
 the "first-fruits of them that slept," saying: 
 ''I am the resurrection, and the life: he that 
 believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall 
 he live." (John xi, 25.) 
 
 There may be mystery in all these things; 
 but there is no disproof in mystery. We do 
 not know as much as we shall know a thousand 
 or a million years hence. What we do not 
 understand now we shall understand some time, 
 or some eternity. How and when this resurrec- 
 tion, this "change," shall come, we need not 
 know. Sufficient it is for us to say, Credo ; and 
 
260 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 to every command of God that leads up to the 
 higher and better life, Volo. "If any man will 
 do His will, he shall know of the doctrines." 
 
 Heaven. 
 
 Turn now, dear reader, and let us consider 
 somewhat of the future home of these immortal 
 souls and bodies. If we are to live on, what 
 shall be the nature of our residence? where 
 shall be that eternal home? On one occasion 
 the Savior said to his disciples: "In my Father's 
 house are many mansions; if it were not so I 
 would have told you. I go to prepare a place 
 for you ; and if I go and prepare a place for 
 you, I will come again and receive you unto 
 myself, that where I am there ye may be also." 
 This was said- to those disciples to cheer their 
 drooping spirits; for they had left all to follow 
 Jesus, who was himself so poor that "he had 
 not where to lay his head." It was needful 
 that they should have some promise on which 
 to lean. They had left their homes, their 
 friends, and their employments, and had taken 
 up with a new kind of life, one which would 
 involve deprivations, enmity, persecution, and 
 even death itself. They were doubtless at this 
 time a little homesick; they had that strange 
 feeling of loneliness so common when one has 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 26 1 
 
 removed to a new place, or is choosing a new 
 mode of life. Just then, when they were so 
 much needed, they received those comforting 
 words from the lips of him whose fortunes they 
 had made their own, and on whose strange 
 words they hung. It was befitting that he who 
 said, "Yet a little while, and the world seeth 
 me no more," should also say, "I go to prepare 
 a place for you." 
 
 And what, I ask, do we all need in this life 
 of uncertainties, trials, and bereavements, more 
 than some sweet whispering of the better land? 
 We can endure much when we are assured that 
 there will be an end of suffering, and that the 
 gloaming of the morning will give place to the 
 brightness of full-orbed dav. 
 
 What a cheerless existence ours would be, 
 did no light shine out upon us from the invisible 
 world. In the language of Bowring: 
 
 " If all our hopes and all our fears 
 
 Were prisoned in life's narrow bound , 
 If, travelers through this vale of tears, 
 
 We saw no better world beyond; 
 O what could check the rising sigh ? 
 
 What earthly thing could pleasure give? 
 O who would venture then to die? 
 
 O who could then endure to live?" 
 
 As I have said before, there is implanted in 
 our being that thought or sentiment which 
 
262 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 points to the hereafter. Go and read up the 
 history of the human race from the beginning 
 of time,, and you will be impressed with the 
 uniform testimony which all human records, 
 whether carved in stone or traced on parch- 
 ment, bear to this settled conviction of the 
 human heart. The monuments man has built, 
 the tombs he has sacredly guarded, the temples 
 where he has worshiped, all tell the same story. 
 The human soul lives in constant expectation 
 of a future life. In catacombs and in pyramids, 
 kings and princes, clad in regal attire, though 
 dead, sit in solemn state, waiting these scores 
 of buried centuries to resume the scepters of 
 their former sovereignty. 
 
 In some countries it has been the custom to 
 burn the dead; but it was believed that fire 
 would serve as a purifier to refine the soul, and 
 that on wavering flame, made brilliant with 
 colors imparted by wine and fragrant with in- 
 cense, the ethereal particles alone were borne to 
 heaven. And so strong has been this belief 
 concerning the future that, through all antiquity, 
 they buried with the dead those things that 
 delighted them most on earth.- Rings still be- 
 deck the blackened fingers of buried Egyptian 
 beauties, and the cold hand of the Greek still 
 grasps the obolus, wherewith to reward the 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 263 
 
 grim ferryman for his passage over Acheron. 
 The Indian warrior sleeps close beside the 
 bones of his steed; his bow and quiver are in 
 readiness for the "happy hunting-grounds of 
 eternity." 
 
 But not only has there been in the mind of 
 mankind this general idea of a future state, but 
 there has always been coupled with it the belief 
 of rewards and punishments. In the writings 
 of heathen poets there are descriptions of the 
 abodes of the departed. Homer wrote of 
 Elysian Fields, which lay far to the westward, 
 on the distant margins of the earth. In subse- 
 quent times these abodes were located below 
 the earth, and were described as a place blessed 
 with perpetual Spring, verdant and lovely, where 
 flowers bloomed in beauty, where groves cast 
 cooling shadows, and sparkling waters flowed to 
 quench the thirst. There in perfect bliss dwelt 
 the virtuous — there was to be found the true 
 tranquillity. When we sing, 
 
 " There I shall bathe ray weary soul 
 In seas of heavenly rest, 
 And not a wave of trouble roll 
 Across my peaceful breast," 
 
 we but express a sentiment which belongs to 
 our whole race. AYe have heaven and hell in 
 our Christian theology, answering to Elysium 
 
264 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 and Tartarus in the old mythologies of the 
 pagan world. 
 
 And now, dear reader, we are nearing the 
 end of this book, we are soon to part. You 
 and I have dear friends who have gone away to 
 the spirit-land. We have stood side by side, 
 where our loved ones sleep, and we have 
 thought of the heaven to which they have 
 gone, and queried about it, and at times have 
 longed for the happy greetings that await us on 
 the other shore. But where is heaven? What 
 constitutes its joys? Who are its inhabitants? 
 Is it a state merely, or a veritable place? Is it 
 around us, or is it away in some distant portion 
 of space? Shall I be there? Shall I meet my 
 precious children there ? Are our fathers, 
 mothers, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, 
 friends, there, inside the gates of glory? These 
 are questions that spring up in the mind of all 
 who have been bereft, and who has not? It 
 seems almost strange that our Heavenly Father 
 has not told us plainly where heaven is. No- 
 where in the Scriptures is it distinctly stated. 
 We can only conjecture, and that we may do. 
 Jesus said he came down from heaven; when 
 he ascended he went "up into heaven." He 
 said, "I go to prepare a place for you." Paul 
 was in some mysterious way taken up into 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 265 
 
 heaven. John, on Patmos, caught glimpses of 
 the great city, and the throne and throng. But 
 just where it is not one of all the writers of 
 Scripture has told us. 
 
 It may be asked, then, in view of this notice- 
 able silence, is it proper for us to seek this 
 knowledge? I answer, It is right for us to 
 know any thing we can know. But our Savior 
 is far more concerned about our readiness for 
 heaven than about our knowledge of its locality. 
 The one is essential; the other is not. Heaven's 
 gate will surety open wide to every purified soul 
 at death. Purity is the only passport to the 
 joys of heaven. 
 
 But what do the Scriptures say about the 
 abodes of the saved? Let us bear in mind that 
 the joys of heaven are spiritual. The life of a 
 soul in heaven is a spiritual life, and hence 
 heaven must be a spiritual abode. Possibly the 
 reason why no one of the inspired writers has 
 given us positive information concerning it is 
 because of a natural impossibility to do so. To 
 our minds, in our present state, it would be impos- 
 sible to convey accurately the true idea. Hence, 
 no attempt has been made, save in the gorgeous 
 imagery of Oriental diction. The Bible speaks 
 to us of the abodes of the saved, and in imag- 
 ination we form varied and beautiful pictures. 
 
266 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 We get our first ideas of it by comparison. St.. 
 Paul says: "For I reckon that the sufferings of 
 this present time are not worthy to be com- 
 pared with the glory which shall be revealed in 
 us; for the earnest expectation of the creature 
 waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of 
 God, . . . because the creature itself also 
 shall be delivered from the bondage of corrup- 
 tion into the glorious liberty of the sons of 
 God." And then, again, "For our light afflic- 
 tion, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a 
 far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 
 In these and similar passages the life to come is 
 portrayed in a way which indicates its superior 
 glory. No wonder that Paul said he "saw and 
 heard things which it was not lawful to utter." 
 Heaven is called a "life." "Strait is the gate 
 and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life." 
 It is called "eternal life." "What good thing 
 shall I do that I may inherit eternal life." It is 
 spoken of as "glory," and "glory of God." 
 "To them who by patient continuance in well- 
 doing seek for glory and honor and immor- 
 tality." "By whom also we have access by 
 faith into this grace, wherein we stand and 
 rejoice in hope of the glory of God." 
 
 The word heaven is of Anglo-Saxon origin, 
 and means to be lifted up, or raised in some 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 267 
 
 way. Hence the common expression, "Up to 
 heaven." But we know that the words up and 
 down are relative terms. They who go up on 
 one side of the globe go down with reference to 
 the other side. The Jews believed in three 
 heavens: first, the region of the atmosphere; 
 next, the regions of the planets; while their 
 "third heavens" lay still beyond. But the 
 Jews had no correct idea of space, and hence 
 these divisions partook of the poetry which runs 
 through all the Jewish writings. 
 
 Heaven is sometimes called "Paradise," in 
 allusion to Eden, the first dwelling-place of man. 
 "This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise." 
 "To him that overcometh will I give to eat of 
 the tree of life, which is in the midst of the 
 Paradise of God." As the word Paradise refers 
 to Eden, so the expression, "Inheritance of the 
 saints," alludes for its origin to the "Promised 
 Land." "There remaineth therefore a rest [in 
 the spiritual "Promised Land"| to the people 
 of God." It is enough for us to know that al- 
 most every word which is used to express de- 
 light, and every figure of speech that can be 
 employed to convey to our minds the idea of 
 bliss, is made to symbolize the Christian's home 
 after death. But still no word or figure tells us 
 directly where heaven is, whither our dear ones 
 
268 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 have gone. We wait, and look, and hope; but 
 by and by the curtain will rise, and we shall 
 behold the land of glory. 
 
 Notwithstanding this silence, however, I have 
 thought we may infer something concerning it. 
 In my speculations I conclude that the universe 
 is God's house. The word "mansions" may 
 relate to the stars, those diamonds that sparkle 
 in the crown of night; or the word may signify 
 ample room, spaciousness, grandeur, beauty. 
 Our friends are not extinct ; they are somewhere. 
 They have a residence, in fact; for Christ said, 
 "I go to prepare a place for you." But where? 
 Some have imagined a vast central orb, around 
 which all these myriad worlds revolve in solemn 
 procession; a center where God, the .Great 
 Unseen, is, where "the pure in heart shall see 
 God;" the holy of holies in this temple, which is 
 greater and more glorious than Solomon's, — but 
 there is no way to verify it. Others have supposed 
 the sun, or some distant star, to be the place to 
 which we are appointed after death. How all this 
 may be we can 'not tell. One thing is certain. 
 Heaven is, first of all, a state — a condition. No 
 sin can enter there. Its inhabitants are holy. 
 If they were not, it would not be heaven. It 
 is a state of freedom from all the ills which 
 affect us in this life. "God shall wipe away all 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 269 
 
 tears from their eyes." The cheek will not 
 grow pale with sickness. The step will not tire 
 as we tread the fields of Paradise. Progress 
 will be the word. Infinite worlds will be before 
 us, to be visited, studied, known. Did you ever 
 experience the peculiar thrill which arises from 
 a new discovery, a new^ fresh, bright thought? 
 It took sleep from your eyelids, and hunger 
 from your body. So I imagine the outgoing 
 soul will ever be thrilled, and the ages of 
 eternity spent in exploring God's house and 
 growing God-like. That will be true rest, true 
 joy, true holiness. "There shall be no night 
 there, and they need no candle, neither light of 
 the sun, for the Lord God giveth light; and 
 they shall reign for ever and ever." 
 
 It seems to me a proper inference from the 
 Scriptures that heaven means the "boundless 
 universe of God," in which, somewhere, Christ's 
 presence, like a glory-cloud, is more signally 
 manifest. The universe has in it a holy of 
 holies, where the Lord of glory dwells, where 
 "the pure in heart see God." But the re- 
 deemed soul is not confined; it enjoys the 
 "liberty of the sons of God." Then, going 
 up to heaven signifies becoming invisible, and 
 "coming down from heaven" means becoming 
 visible. 
 
270 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 In the twenty-first chapter of Revelation John 
 gives us a beautiful description of the celestial 
 city: "And the city lieth foursquare, and the 
 length is as large as the breadth, and he meas- 
 ured the city with the reed, twelve thousand 
 furlongs. . The length and the breadth and the 
 height of it are equal. And he measured the 
 wall thereof, an hundred and forty and four 
 cubits, according to the measure of a man, that 
 is, of the angel. And the building of the wall 
 of it was of jasper: and the city was pure gold, 
 like unto clear glass. And the foundations of 
 the wall of the city were garnished with all 
 manner of precious stones. The first foundation 
 was jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, a 
 chalcedony; the fourth, an emerald; the fifth, 
 sardonyx ; the sixth, sardius ; the seventh, 
 chrysolite ; the eighth, beryl ; the ninth, a topaz ; 
 the tenth, a chrysoprasus ; the eleventh, a ja- 
 cinth ; the twelfth, an amethyst. And the 
 twelve gates were twelve pearls; every several 
 gate was of one pearl; and the street of the 
 city was pure gold, as it were transparent glass. 
 And I saw no temple therein ; for the Lord God 
 Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. " 
 
 But this is figurative, and the whole descrip-' 
 tion is in language which conveys to us the 
 highest conceptions of grandeur and beauty. 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 27 1 
 
 When Jesus was on the earth he spoke of him- 
 self as the "Son of man, which is in heaven." 
 He stood at that moment in a twofold relation. 
 He touched at each instant of his world-life two 
 distinct and separate planes of being. As a man 
 he stood related to time and to the earth, and 
 as a God he touched the realm of the Infinite. 
 He was on earth and in heaven at the same 
 moment. Heaven and earth met in him, and 
 should, in a sense, so meet in all of us. 
 
 A beautiful account is given to us in the sixth 
 chapter of Second Kings. Elisha, the prophet, 
 was pursued by a detachment of the army of 
 the Assyrian King to Dothan, where he was 
 completely hemmed in. His servant was terror- 
 stricken. But when Elisha looked out of his 
 tent-door and beheld the array he exclaimed, 
 "Fear not, for they that are with us are more 
 than they that are with them." And then he 
 prayed that the eyes of his servant might be 
 opened, that he might be able to see spiritually. 
 The prayer was answered, and the servant 
 looked up, and, lo ! the mountain flamed with a 
 shining host, "full of horses and chariots of 
 fire round about Elisha." The prophet was 
 pursued by an army arrayed for his destruc- 
 tion — one lone man more than a match for the 
 Assyrian host! "Man's extremity is God's 
 
272 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 opportunity." God revealed himself in symbols 
 of protecting power. O, this is a precious 
 thought. The heavenly world is near us. Our 
 dear friends may be around us. "The angel 
 of the Lord encampeth round about them that 
 fear him, and delivereth them." "Are they not 
 all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for 
 them who shall be the* heirs of salvation ?" 
 Admitting that the heaven of the saints is 
 millions of miles away in space, yet distance 
 means nothing to a spirit, and so heaven is 
 "nigh at hand, and not afar off." I love the 
 old Christianity which taught us about these 
 celestial ministries. The poets have put it into 
 their sacred hymns centuries ago, and we sing : 
 
 " There are angels hovering round." 
 
 Watts wrote: 
 
 " I lay my body down to sleep ; 
 
 Peace is the pillow for my head ; 
 While well-appointed angels keep 
 
 Their watchful stations round my bed." 
 
 And Toplady: 
 
 " Thy ministering spirits descend, 
 
 To watch while the saints are asleep; 
 By day and by night they attend, 
 The heirs of salvation to keep." 
 
 And so on. I. might quote at great length from 
 the Wesleys, and all the old sacred poets. 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 273 
 
 The world has heard much of spiritual visit- 
 ants in all ages. Jesus said one day, when his 
 disciples were alarmed about his personal safety, 
 that if he willed he could summon to his aid 
 "twelve legions of angels." The beck of his 
 hand would have covered Olivet or Moriah with 
 an angelic host. St. Stephen, the protomartyr, 
 while yet in the body, looked up, and saw 
 heaven open, and Jesus sitting on the right- 
 hand of the throne of God. That is, he was in 
 the place of highest honor. And yet, because 
 fanatical people have carried this old Bible 
 belief to illogical extremes, and have deluded 
 the simple-minded with all sorts of vagaries in 
 the form of spiritism, we have almost come to 
 be disbelievers in these angelic ministries. 
 Could we open our eyes at any time, could we 
 see as w T e yet shall see, with pure spiritual 
 vision, we should behold the " great company." 
 Our eyes would be greeted with the faces of 
 our dear ones, as they appear in their glorified 
 state. Could we but hear as we yet shall hear, 
 their songs w T ould make us glad. Could we but 
 know now as we will know by and by, death 
 would not be the dreadful thing which it seems 
 to be to so many. 
 
 There is not one whose eye rests upon this 
 page who has not some dear friend in the 
 
274 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 spirit-land. My children are there. Mother, 
 your dear babe is there. Of their forms we 
 know, and can know, nothing, positively noth- 
 ing, only that they are not children in intelli- 
 gence. The law of mind is to expand. They 
 have grown tall in this direction. When we 
 meet them in their glorified state, they will be 
 able to lead us and teach us. They roam 
 through fields of light and beauty, "forever 
 with the Lord." How much of woe they have 
 escaped! Not a night passes on this earth but 
 some poor souls are shipwrecked, and on 
 broken timbers they drift wildly about before 
 the tempestuous winds and mad waves, the 
 sport of the pitiless billows. Not a night 
 passes but the poor, fever-burnt sufferer, or 
 wasted consumptive, on whose cheek burns the 
 hectic fire, with that unnatural redness, like 
 that which "Autumn paints upon the perished 
 leaf," tosses about in weariness and in weak- 
 ness, waiting and watching for the morning. 
 Not a night passes but many are hurrying 
 through miles of space and darkness, to see 
 once more the faces of their beloved friends ere 
 death snaps the silver thread. ■ Never a day 
 goes by but on the streets of the great city 
 wander the poor, homeless ones of earth, often 
 hungry and cold, uncheered by word or look, 
 
OUR IMMORTAL FUTURE. 275 
 
 or grasp of friendly hand. From all these' tur- 
 moils, sickness and poverty, pain and death, 
 they, our dear ones, are safe. 
 
 I think there is a spiritual universe within 
 the material, just as we have spiritual natures 
 within our bodily forms. We see the body; 
 but the soul or spirit is invisible. We see the 
 material universe; but we see not the spiritual. 
 "While we look not at the things which 
 are seen, but at the things which are not 
 seen ; for the things which are seen are tem- 
 poral, but the things which are not seen are 
 eternal." (2 Cor. iv, 18.) To the pure, at 
 death, heaven opens; visions of beauty burst 
 on the eye; sounds seraphic fall on the ear. 
 The throne, the river, the tree of life, may be 
 symbols; but they must, they do, symbolize 
 something. The reality is greater than the 
 figure. God is not mocking us. We are not 
 lured on by these intuitions and pictures to 
 nonentity. Life, which is so rich in thought 
 and feeling, will not go out in an eternal sleep. 
 
 May we all "come unto Mount Zion, and 
 unto the city of the living God, the heavenly 
 Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of 
 angels : to the general assembly and Church 
 of the first-born, which are written in heaven ; 
 and to God, the Judge of all; and to the spirits 
 
276 
 
 INSIDE THE GATES. 
 
 of just men made perfect; and to Jesus, the 
 Mediator of the new covenant; and to the 
 blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things 
 than the blood of Abel;" and thus all be safe 
 "Inside the Gates!" 
 
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