Class. 
 Book._ 
 
 Copyright ]S ;o _- 
 
 COPYRIGHT DFJPOSJJi 
 
MOMENTS OF 
 DEVOTION 
 
 By 
 BRUCE S. WRIGHT 
 
 THE ABINGDON PRESS 
 NEW YORK CINCINNATI 
 

 Copyright, 1921, by 
 BRUCE S. WRIGHT 
 
 JUL-27I 
 
 Printed in the United States of America. 
 
 DCI.A614894 
 
"The path of the just is as the shining light, 
 that shineth more and more." — Proverbs 4. 18. 
 

 MOMENTS OF DEVOTION 
 
 
 
"Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I 
 might not sin against thee." — Psalm ng. II. 
 
 I once saw the following outline of this 
 verse: — 
 i. The best Book in the world — Thy Word. 
 
 2. The best place to put it — Hid in mine 
 
 heart. 
 
 3. The best purpose for which to put it 
 
 there — That I might not sin against 
 thee. 
 
 John Ruskin wrote: "All that I have 
 written, every greatness that there has 
 been in any thought of mine, whatever 
 has been done in my life, has been simply 
 due to the fact that when I was a child 
 my mother daily read with me a part of 
 the Bible and daily made me learn a part 
 of it by heart." 
 
 On the cover of the Bible owned by one 
 of the stanchest Christian men the world 
 has known were stamped in gold letters 
 these two lines: 
 
 11 This Book will keep you from sin, or 
 Sin will keep you from this Book" 
 
Thy Word, God, is a lamp and a light. 
 How often have we stumbled in darkness 
 because we neglected to walk according to 
 the light. "Heaven and earth shall pass 
 away, but my word shall not pass away." 
 Forgive us for temporizing life by giving 
 ourselves to this and to that, when thy 
 Word is eternal. Help us that daily thy 
 Book may be not only upon our tables, 
 but in our hearts. May thy Word be hid 
 within, that outwardly we may be strong. 
 
"Year by year continually." — Hebrews 10. I. 
 
 So this is the record of life, year by year, 
 year by year. Human history dates back 
 about six thousand years. Babylon, Assyria, 
 Egypt, Israel, Greece, Rome, Medieval and 
 Modern history, here is the record, year 
 by year. How long have you lived in your 
 present home — five, ten, fifteen years? 
 Whether the years be many or few, this 
 is their story, year by year. So the seasons 
 pass, spring, summer, autumn, winter, year 
 by year. How monotonous it all is ! What 
 is your work? Are you a teacher, soldier, 
 homemaker, clerk, business man, machinist? 
 Whatever you do, time stretches on year 
 by year. "One more year, two more years, 
 three more years, and I expect to do so 
 and so," you tell me. Yes, and then what 
 are you going to do? One more year, two 
 more years, a few more years, and then 
 the grave. Is this all that life means? 
 Can there possibly be anything more hum- 
 drum than life if this is the only measure 
 we can find, year by year? Does life mean 
 nothing more than tearing off the months 
 of the calendar? If that is all then human 
 life is the emptiest thing imaginable. Ah, 
 but life is more. Year by year the Son 
 of God stands to rescue life from its hum- 
 drum and monotony, to save men from 
 their sins, and to make the days radiant 
 with service and the year glorious with 
 meaning. 
 
 8 
 
O Lord, our Lord, save us from the 
 monotony of time. Year by year, day by 
 day may thy Spirit stir us to high think- 
 ing, clean living, and purposeful service. 
 May time be conquered in the delight we 
 find in doing thy righteous will. Help 
 us to choose — "Forenoon and afternoon 
 and night; forenoon and afternoon and 
 night: forenoon — and what? The empty 
 song repeats itself. No more? Yes, and 
 this is life; make this forenoon sublime, this 
 afternoon a psalm, this night a prayer, 
 and time is conquered, and thy crown 
 is won." 
 
"And underneath are the everlasting arms." — 
 Deuteronomy 33. 27. 
 
 At once we think of a mother's arms. 
 We speak of the Fatherhood of God; may 
 we not, with equal truth, speak of God's 
 Mother arms; "My mother's loving in- 
 stinct was from God," wrote Horace Bush- 
 nell, "and God was in her love to me first, 
 therefore; which love was deeper than hers 
 and more protracted. Long years ago she 
 vanished, but God stays by me still, em- 
 bracing me in my gray hairs as tenderly 
 and carefully as she did in my infancy, 
 and giving to me as my joy and the prin- 
 cipal glory of my life, that he lets me know 
 him, and helps me, with real confidence, to 
 call him Father." In infancy other arms 
 upheld us, for we were helpless. In ma- 
 turity we become overconfident, though 
 we need no less the upholding arms. We 
 imagine that physical strength is every- 
 thing, until the crisis comes, then we feel 
 the need of sustaining spiritual arms. 
 Real, though unseen; strong, though with- 
 out substance; ever present, though we can- 
 not put the hand upon them; underneath 
 us, though we wander afar; ever ready 
 to receive us when repentant, to give us 
 confidence in the conflict, to lead us along 
 the lonely way, to help us over hard places, 
 never failing us when we fall — such are 
 the Father's everlasting arms. 
 
O my soul, trust thou in God, for he is 
 thy sure refuge. In temptation turn to 
 him. In thy trial he will cause thee to 
 triumph. For thine affliction thou wilt 
 find him adequate. In thy prosperity he 
 will keep thee from being puffed up. He 
 will see thee through thy sorrow. In every- 
 thing trust the everlasting arms. 
 
 II 
 
"For so he giveth his beloved sleep. 7 ' — Psalm 
 127. 2. 
 
 One hour out of every three, eight out 
 of every twenty-four, four months out of 
 every year, and twenty-three years out of 
 a lifetime of threescore years and ten is 
 the amount of time given to sleep. Is it 
 satisfactory to say that the only purpose 
 of sleep is to give rest and repair the waste 
 tissues? Sancho Panza, the little Spanish 
 peasant who acted as squire to Don Quixote, 
 said of sleep: "Now, blessings light on 
 him that first invented this same sleep! 
 It covers a man all over, thoughts and 
 all, like a cloak; it is meat for the hungry, 
 drink for the thirsty, heat for the cold, 
 and cold for the hot." Sleep does all 
 this, but it also has a higher purpose. 
 Sleep is a complete separation from the 
 world of strife and sin. It is suggestive 
 of the higher life. Grown weary of the 
 daily struggle and grind, God leads you 
 apart to remind you, in solitude, that life 
 is more than meat and drink. In still- 
 ness you are made to hear his voice. In 
 repose you enter into possession of your 
 own soul. In sleep "his beloved win 
 their best gifts and build their stateliest 
 walls; it is there that they see visions and 
 dream dreams." To sleep is to purify 
 life, to refine it and get rid of its dross. 
 To awake from such sleep is to face the 
 world as a conqueror and let Christ dom- 
 inate in character. 
 
Father of all mercies, we thank thee 
 for the gift of sleep. In both the lower 
 and higher sense sleep is a haven indeed. 
 By sleep thou dost refresh the body, re- 
 store the mind, calm the soul, and assure 
 thy peace. Help us, by the strength and 
 vision therein found, to live for thee every 
 waking hour. 
 
 13 
 
"He is faithful that promised."— Hebrews 10. 23. 
 
 Here two precious words are joined — 
 promise and faithfulness. It is easy to 
 make a promise, but always to keep a 
 promise when made, that is character. 
 The wound of a broken promise is deep 
 and slow healing. This should ever be in 
 the mind of the parent or older person 
 when making a promise to a child. It is 
 told of David Livingstone that once he 
 promised to send some curiosities from 
 Africa to a little boy in England, and had 
 forgotten to do so. The boy's father was 
 writing to Livingstone, and the little 
 fellow added a postscript, reminding his 
 friend of his promise. The great explorer 
 was overwhelmed with dismay and con- 
 fusion when he read the postscript. He 
 hastened to repair the wrong he had done, 
 and refers to the matter again and again, 
 with evident pain, feeling sure, he says, 
 that the boy would forgive him if he knew 
 how much he had suffered by his fault. 
 It is evidence indisputable of the great- 
 ness and nobility of Livingstone's character 
 that his grief over a forgotten promise 
 made to a little boy was so poignant. Lis- 
 ten — he is faithful that promised. Oh, 
 doubting one, halting soul, fearful child, 
 trust the promises God has made for he 
 will not fail. 
 
 14 
 
Heavenly Father, forgive me my lavish- 
 ness in making promises and my laxity 
 in keeping them. Make my conscience 
 true to guard the covenant I have entered 
 into. Help me walk with patient feet 
 the pathway I have chosen. May the 
 power of thy unalterable word change my 
 clayey character and glorify it with the 
 beauty of constancy. 
 
 15 
 
"Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, 
 and the life." — John 14. 6. 
 
 Personality is the striking thing about 
 this statement. We declare our doctrines, 
 boast our charters and take pride in our 
 constitutions, which is well. But how 
 vain are these things until they are inter- 
 preted by individuals and made potent 
 through personality. Supreme truth cen- 
 ters in a person. The apostle, in his 
 declaration of faith, used the word whom, 
 not what. "I know whom I have believed." 
 Canon Liddon wrote: "Plato is not Platon- 
 ism; Platonism might have been taught 
 though its author had never lived. Mo- 
 hammed is not Islam; the Koran itself 
 would warn us v against any such confusion 
 between the teacher of its doctrine and 
 the substance of the doctrine itself. But 
 Christ himself is Christianity. His teaching 
 is inextricably bound up with his person; 
 and it is not merely because he taught 
 what he did, but because he is what he is, 
 that through him we can come to the Fa- 
 ther." What a revelation is this! It is not, 
 "I teach the way; I declare the truth; I 
 point to the life eternal." No. It is, 
 "I am the way, the truth and the life." 
 They who have Christ walk in the way. 
 They who know him have knowledge of 
 the truth. They who love him have life. 
 It is the power of his personality blended 
 intimately with our personality, in the 
 present tense, "I am." 
 
 16 
 
We thank thee, heavenly Father, for a 
 peopled highway, for the warm heartbeat 
 of truth, and for thy message of love that 
 comes to us along the throbbing routes of 
 life. As we draw near to Easter reveal 
 thyself anew to us, Saviour, as our way, 
 our truth, and our life. 
 
 
 17 
 
"Then were there brought unto him little chil- 
 dren." — Matthew ig. ij. 
 
 The children were brought to Jesus. 
 They belong to him, but they must be 
 brought. "Of such is the kingdom." Yes, 
 but who is to enroll their names? Whose 
 is the chief est responsibility? One evening 
 at a public dinner I sat next to a leading 
 Christian layman. He grew reminiscent. 
 He told me something of his boyhood. He 
 said his mother would put her children to 
 bed, hear their prayers, then go into an 
 adjoining room alone. One day the boy 
 asked, "Mother, where have you been?" 
 "Wrestling with the Lord for you chil- 
 dren," was her answer. There is something 
 Puritanical in the sound of that phrase, 
 "wrestling with the Lord." Also there is 
 something wonderfully purifying in the act. 
 Some one hundred and fifty Christians 
 were asked the question, "What was the 
 most potent influence in shaping your 
 character?" Fifty-two answered their par- 
 ents and home influence. Forty-eight cited 
 other personal examples. Twenty-nine re- 
 plied books and writers. Twenty-eight 
 said church and pastors. The pastor can 
 do much, the Sunday school teacher can 
 do much; but power rests with the parents. 
 
 18 
 
O Christ, lover of children, forgive our 
 neglect. Thou wilt receive the children if 
 only we bring them. Help us, patiently, 
 tactfully, with loving-kindness to bring 
 them to thee. Fulfill thy promise, O Lord; 
 may our children and our children's chil- 
 dren love thy law. 
 
 19 
 
"Moreover when ye fast, be not as the hypo- 
 crites, of a sad countenance," etc. — Matthew 6. 
 16-18. 
 
 Christ did not condemn fasting. He 
 commended it by practicing it. But his 
 face was hard set against a hypocritical 
 purpose in fasting. Not that we may be 
 seen of men, but that we may more clearly 
 see spiritual truth should we fast. One 
 season is as good as another, yet we sow 
 the seed in the springtime and gather in 
 the fruits in the harvest season. The 
 Lenten season, which draws near, is no 
 better than another, except that it may 
 be the springtime of the soul. Because 
 of the events in our Lord's life at this time 
 of the year opportunity is given us to think 
 upon those events, to draw near to him, to 
 strengthen our faith and bulwark anew 
 our character. Fasting, in itself, is good 
 for the body. Fasting, with a high and 
 holy motive, is good for the mind and 
 soul. Fasting should have a revival among 
 Christians everywhere. All the year through 
 emphasis is placed upon feasting, feasting. 
 If it were socially proper I would give an 
 invitation to all my friends, not to a feast 
 but to a fast. That which it would be 
 indelicate for me to do the Lenten season 
 boldly trumpets. 
 
O Lord, who for our sakes didst fast 
 forty days and forty nights, give us grace 
 that, by every method possible, we may 
 rise above the sensual to dwell in the spir- 
 itual. Forgive us our crassness of life. 
 Upon the things that are coarse may we 
 turn our back. To the merely selfish invi- 
 tation may we, these days, say, No. To 
 the call of the Spirit help us to say, in his 
 name, Yes. 
 
"And Peter followed afar off." — Luke 22. 54. 
 
 Afar off! This it was that led to the 
 tragedy in Peter's life. Distance results, 
 sooner or later, in denial. Had Peter kept 
 close to Christ he would not have been 
 cowed by an onlooking maid nor shriveled 
 by blasphemous men. "I never knew him," 
 said the man who but a short time before 
 had sworn undying allegiance to Christ. 
 Most spiritual tragedies and moral denials 
 are the result of distance. We begin with 
 such high resolves to be loyal to Christ; 
 in the first glow of our religious experience 
 we cannot imagine any cloud able to darken 
 the brightness of our new-found joy. But 
 something steals in — a too liberal attitude 
 toward evil, a slight neglect of duty, a 
 preference for crass and worldly things, a 
 desire to be numbered with the crowd, 
 an unwillingness to be known as an ardent 
 follower of Christ — by such methods the 
 distance between us and our Saviour is 
 lengthened until the step to desertion is 
 an imperceptible one. Who can help noting 
 that those who deny Christ, unconsciously 
 it may be, but it is denial none the less, 
 are those who follow him afar off, whose 
 religious life is a matter of convenience 
 rather than conviction! Afar off! Note 
 this terrible alliteration — distance, denial, 
 desertion, depression, deceit, devilishness, 
 darkness, despair. 
 
Saviour, forgive me my slow-moving 
 steps, my lack of enthusiasm, my half- 
 hearted service, my silent denials, my 
 compromising attitudes, my cowardly de- 
 sertions. I lift my eyes and I must strain 
 them to see thee, for I am so far off I can 
 scarcely discern thee. I hasten forward, 
 to shorten the space between, that dis- 
 tance may not lead to desertion nor fal- 
 tering steps to traitorous deeds. 
 
 23 
 
"That they all may be- one." — John 17. 21. 
 
 How essentially we are one if we will 
 only admit it! Think of these hymns we 
 sing. Here is one written by a Methodist, 
 while next to it is one written by a Bap- 
 tist, and beneath it is one penned by a 
 Quaker, and following him a Catholic voices 
 his praise. And in the hour of the heart's 
 need no one stops to ask, " Who's Who" 
 among the authors. We seize upon the 
 strain of the one who best responds to the 
 experience within. Lyman Abbott, whose 
 aged hand still wields a virile pen, writes 
 about the "Dissolution of Dogma." "The 
 dissolution of dogma," says he, "is not the 
 dissolution of Christianity. The alabaster 
 box is broken and the fragrance of the 
 contents pervades the whole house." James 
 Denney, who went down on a torpedoed 
 boat, whose gifted mind and loving heart 
 the world could ill spare, gave a tentative 
 creed for Christendom. Here it is: "I 
 believe in God through Jesus Christ his 
 only Son, out Lord and Saviour." What 
 more do we need than this? 
 
 "For Christ is more than all the creeds, 
 And his full life of gentle deeds 
 Shall all the creeds survive. 
 Not what I do believe, but whom." 
 
 For Christ is love. Love blinds the eyes 
 to the trivial things which divide us. Love 
 opens the eyes to behold the one fold and 
 the one Shepherd. 
 
 24 
 
Our Master, thou who didst sanctify thy- 
 self for our sakes, dwell richly in us, that 
 we may share the breadth of vision and 
 the inclusive love which marked thy con- 
 tact with men. Help us, "what'er our 
 name or sign," that we may ''own thy 
 sway, hear thy call, and test our lives by 
 thine. " 
 
 25 
 
"If any man will do his will, he shall know." — 
 John 7. 17. 
 
 Who could ask a fairer test? Is there 
 any other test worth the name? And how 
 simple it is — do and you shall know. Dis- 
 obedience breeds doubt. Obedience begets 
 overcoming faith. We claim that we are 
 eager for certain knowledge of God. Then 
 why not earnestly set to work to do his 
 will? "Doing and knowing," wrote Maltbie 
 Babcock, "are blood relations. Experiment 
 and experience spring from the same root, 
 and will not grow apart. Do you wish 
 you had a Christian's experience? Will to 
 make the Christian experiment. Would 
 you know who Christ is, and what he can 
 do for you? Obey him; do as he directs. 
 Do not expect experience without experi- 
 ment." How often do we hear men say 
 that when they know they will do. Jesus 
 puts it just the other way; he tells men 
 that when they do they will know. Christ 
 does not reveal himself to the dreamer or 
 the debater, but to the doer. If one would 
 know the divineness of Christ's doctrine 
 his life must be definitely set toward right- 
 eousness. Christ bids us, this Lenten 
 season, accept his test and prove his doc- 
 trine. He gives certain faith in exchange 
 for a consecrated will; a mind at rest for 
 a life of deeds; a sunset of peace for a day 
 spent in his service; a sure eternity for a 
 short span of loyalty. 
 
 26 
 
O Christ of the Easter triumph, we turn 
 to thee. We would be doers of the word, 
 and not hearers only. Help us to use our 
 will that we may know the way. May 
 obedience be the guide that shall lead us 
 in the way everlasting. 
 
 27 
 
"As it began to dawn." — Matthew 28. 1. 
 
 Was it literary chance or divine intent 
 that led the writer of the first Gospel thus 
 to refer to the first Easter? Here is poetry, 
 certainly; here is inspiration as well. Chris- 
 tianity is a dawning; it always has been, 
 it ever will be. In the beginning light 
 dawned through God's word. The physical 
 dawn with which God blesses every day is 
 here matched by a spiritual dawn that 
 fails not. Life and light rule wherever 
 men let the risen Christ enter their hearts. 
 The Easter dawning is so glorious that we 
 begin weeks ahead to look for the first 
 shafts of light. Lent is the season of 
 looking toward the dawn — watching, wait- 
 ing, thinking, believing — that when the 
 resurrection light of Easter day breaks 
 upon the world we may not be o'erwhelmed 
 by its effulgent rays. More subdued, but 
 no less real, the Easter light is with us 
 through all the year. And in that great 
 hour, when we go hence, we simply step 
 triumphantly out into the dawn. 
 
 "Dying, they lifted his curly head, 
 And he looked to the East, and smiling said — 
 
 'It's light on the hills!' 
 Arid he went away in the morning bright, 
 With the last sweet quivering word of 'Light' 
 On the lips death kissed to a silence long." 
 
 28 
 
 
Our Redeemer and our Lord, who art 
 covered with light as with a garment, help 
 us to attain the brightness of an unfalter- 
 ing faith. Walking in the blessed light of 
 each day, we would claim the fuller light 
 that is ever beginning but never ending. 
 
 29 
 
"Now when the even was come, he sat down 
 with the twelve." — Matthew 26. 20. 
 
 Twelve were at the first Lord's Supper. 
 Unnumbered multitudes keep the feast to- 
 day. Fishermen, and a few others, were 
 at that earliest table. Men from every 
 walk — statesmen, poets, philosophers, sol- 
 diers, toilers without number — have gathered 
 about the table since. A few men, largely 
 of one blood, were in that upper room 
 long ago. Men of every blood, of every 
 race, of every color gather in the upper 
 rooms of to-day. How plain the feast — 
 bread and the fruit of the vine. How plain 
 the truth taught — "This is my body broken 
 for you. This is my blood of the new 
 covenant shed for many for the remission 
 of sins." But peace was not there. A 
 man with evil plans was in their midst. 
 Others were striving for the places of 
 honor. The sacrament is a holy means. 
 It can have an holy end only when holily 
 used. Watchfulness, prayer, humility, pur- 
 pose — these are our unfailing guides to lead 
 us to the feast of feasts. 
 
 30 
 
 
Grant us power, our Saviour, that having 
 partaken of the feast we may not forget 
 its message. Forgive us that so often we 
 come to thy sacrament with worldly 
 thoughts or with the hope that some 
 strange thing may happen. May the 
 simplicity of the supper be its commenda- 
 tion. In simplicity we would remember 
 thee, in sincerity we would serve thee, and 
 in sacrifice we would find our strength. 
 
 3i 
 
"I was glad when they said unto me, Let us 
 go into the house of the Lord." — Psalm 122. 1. 
 
 Why do not more men go to church? 
 
 It is the old query. It bobs up every 
 so often. Every generation in all serious- 
 ness propounds it. 
 
 In like seriousness men give their actually 
 ridiculous answers. If the question is the 
 same the answers are likewise tiresomely 
 identical. 
 
 This query was recently answered in the 
 same old fashion by various men whom 
 Robert Gardner McGregor questioned on 
 the subject. 
 
 The answers were, as usual, criticisms of 
 the church. All too readily we assume that 
 every objection registered against the 
 church by an irreligious man is a justified 
 indictment of blame against the church, 
 and no blame at all to the man himself. 
 
 Mr. McGregor in his public answer re- 
 jected any such quiescent attitude, and 
 spoke instead in the following straightout, 
 pungent manner: 
 
 "A real reason why many men stay away 
 from church is that the spiritual in them 
 is atrophied. This is just as possible as 
 it is for a man's mind to become atrophied. 
 The spiritual has lost its fine edge, and to 
 regain it a man must pass through the 
 earthquake of some great sorrow; or, like 
 the prodigal, be brought to his senses in 
 the shame of what he is in the light of 
 some vision of what he might be." 
 
 22 
 
O Saviour, lover of truth, deliver me 
 from silliness, shallowness, and pretense. 
 If I hate thy church I will not pretend 
 that I love it by giving empty excuses for 
 staying away. 
 
 33 
 
"His eyes behold, his eyelids try, the children 
 of men." — Psalm II. 4. 
 
 The thought of censorship is not so very 
 new after all, is it? It is not so very new 
 and not so very bad. On the whole I 
 I think it is decidedly good. Though the 
 war has been over these many months I 
 am still receiving letters stamped, "Passed 
 by the censor." But there is a higher 
 censorship always in force. "Thou God 
 seest me" is a tremendous aid to self- 
 control. How much better we would feel 
 at the close of the day if we would keep a 
 censor in our brain, upon our tongue, and 
 close by our pen when we write! There 
 would be fewer vain regrets over impure 
 thoughts, hasty words, and unwise letters 
 too late to be recalled. The phrase, "Passed 
 by censor," is not an insult but a compli- 
 ment. It tells the world that there is 
 nothing within that is unpatriotic, untrue, 
 or harmful. There are those who have 
 such a high reputation for patriotism, 
 truth, and helpfulness that the censor 
 never looks within or starts an inquiry; 
 his stamp of approval is given without 
 question. "Passed by the censor" of love, 
 of sincerity, of chivalry, of generosity, of 
 courtesy, of frankness, of loyalty, of hatred 
 of all sin and allegiance to all righteous- 
 ness — be this our goal. 
 
 34 
 
Our Lord, we long to lead lives of service, 
 We would be builders up and not tearers 
 down; helpful, not harmful; watchful, not 
 negligent; ever on guard, never asleep at 
 the post; eager, not slothful; deep, not 
 shallow; earnest, not silly. In the mighty- 
 struggle for character may we be able to 
 stand sure and true before the censorship 
 of heaven. 
 
 35 
 
"Amos, who was among the herdmen of Tekoa." 
 — Amos i. i. 
 
 Amos, a herdman and a holy man ; a tender 
 of sheep and a keeper of the flock of Israel. 
 A bishop's hands had never been laid upon 
 his head, yet he was a priest of God. He 
 had no pulpit, yet he was a preacher of 
 righteousness. He had no stated congre- 
 gation, yet he was pastor of a mighty host. 
 Graduating from no theological school, yet 
 he was a prophet of the infinite God. Re- 
 buked by Amaziah, an accredited member of 
 the priesthood, driven hither and yon by 
 those whose conscience could not with- 
 stand his message — who called him to 
 preach, who gave him the authority, who 
 ordained him? He was ordained from 
 above. Hear him as he says, "I was not 
 a prophet, neither was I a prophet's son; 
 but I was a herdman, a gatherer of wild 
 figs ; and the Lord came to me as I followed 
 the flock, and said, Go, prophesy unto my 
 people Israel." Amos went. Since then 
 millions have gone out, called by the voice 
 divine, in the Master's name to do their 
 work, to live their life, the glorious minis- 
 try of the unordained. 
 
 36 
 
Master of men, we thank thee for the 
 summons to service. We praise thee, 
 though we have no pulpit, yet may we 
 preach; though we may not proclaim in 
 public, yet our speech hath power; though 
 a bishop's voice has never said, "Take 
 thou authority," thou hast said, "Go ye, 
 therefore." Thou hast called us to take 
 our place in the only genuine apostolic 
 succession. Help us daily to be true in the 
 service to which thou hast called us, the 
 universal ministry of the unordained. 
 
 37 
 
"'Let me alone." — Job 7. 16. 
 
 It is utterly impossible. It is not in the 
 'order of things that we should be let alone. 
 If the mother should let the babe alone 
 the infant would perish. If the sun should 
 let the ice and water alone the rivers would 
 dry up and our fertile fields would become 
 parched ground. If the soil should let the 
 roots alone there would be no green on 
 the branches, no fragrant blossoms, no 
 fruitful harvests. The hand cannot say 
 to the heart, "Let me alone." The eye 
 cannot say to the ear, "Let me alone." 
 No, we are all "members one of another." 
 The American cannot say to the Britisher, 
 "Let me alone." The Italian cannot say 
 to the Frenchman, "Let me alone." It 
 cannot be done. No nation lives unto 
 itself. In the Old Testament are these 
 words: "Ephraim is joined to his idols; 
 let him alone." If at this point God should 
 answer our prayer and let us alone it would 
 mean certain perdition. He gives us con- 
 science, faithful friends, his Word, the 
 pulpit's flaming message — he will not let 
 us alone, for "God is not willing that any 
 should perish, but that all should come to 
 repentance." 
 
 38 
 
Do not let us alone, we pray. If we 
 ' 'take the wings of the morning and dwell 
 in the uttermost parts of the sea" may we 
 find thee there. If we "make our bed in 
 hell" do not let us alone. Awake our con- 
 science and keep it awake that our souls 
 may not enter into the slumber that is 
 the sleep of death. If we are bent upon 
 the pathway of sin throw across it the 
 brightness of thine own presence that we 
 may behold the better way. Though we 
 are joined to our idols do not let us alone; 
 stir us up; arouse us from our lethargy; 
 sever us from the evil thing. 
 
 39 
 
"And Jesus . . . said, Were there not ten cleansed? 
 Where are the nine?" — Luke 17. 17. 
 
 Ten were cleansed; only one returned 
 to give thanks. Is this the proportion of 
 the race that manifests gratitude? It would 
 seem so. The thankful spirit should be as 
 plentiful as the morning dew upon the 
 grass; alas, how dry is the earth of praise 
 unto God! Why this dearth of gratitude? 
 Sin is one reason. One who has yielded 
 himself to disobedience does not turn aside 
 to praise the God whose first requisite is 
 obedience to the laws of life. The desire 
 to praise follows the life-quest of pur- 
 ity. Thoughtlessness blights thankfulness. 
 "They simply do not think" must be the 
 verdict regarding many a life that does 
 not turn aside to praise. Selfishness also. 
 Nine were self -centered; only one had a 
 conscience for the good that had been done 
 him. And pride. "Never since I was a 
 boy have I been under obligation to any 
 human," is the boast of many a strong 
 man. Silly speech! You are under obliga- 
 tion to a thousand lowly ones you have 
 never seen, and of course to the Highest 
 One of all. "The Road of the Loving 
 Heart" was the name the Samoan chiefs 
 gave to the road their grateful labor built 
 for their friend, Robert Louis Stevenson. 
 Shall the untutored teach us? Shall we 
 plunge forward with the nine, or turn aside 
 with the one? 
 
 40 
 
O God, what manner of men are we 
 that we should number ourselves with the 
 beasts of the field! They cannot, but we 
 can and we will give praise. We will 
 walk the road of the Thankful Heart. 
 
"A friend of mine in his journey is come to me, 
 and I have nothing to set before him." — Luke n. 6. 
 
 An appeal, but no response. An oppor- 
 tunity to do good knocks at the door, but 
 the door cannot be opened. Our friends 
 are journeying to and fro along the path- 
 way of life; sometimes they pause at our 
 door, for they are needy. What is the 
 response we make to their cry? They need 
 courage; are we able to speak the word 
 that shall send them with lifted head and 
 strengthened will on their way? They 
 need sympathy; does our life lack the warmth 
 they should feel in this, the winter of their 
 soul? They need strength; are we so weak 
 or is our example so inadequate that we 
 cannot help them conquer the temptation 
 which now assails them? They need love; 
 is our heart so full of self, are we so narrow 
 that we cannot stretch our life to take 
 them in? They need Christ; is our religious 
 experience so nominal, so superficial that 
 we are unable to point them to "the Lamb 
 of God which taketh away the sin of the 
 world"? 
 
Saviour, thou incomparable Friend, help 
 us to be friendly. Thou who didst never 
 turn away a needy one, help us that we 
 may strengthen the spirits of men when 
 they turn to us. Thou who didst never 
 refuse to open the door when men came 
 to thee asking courage, sympathy, health, 
 strength, love, help us to keep our store- 
 house well stocked that we may be able 
 to fling wide the door when the needy soul 
 knocks, saying to him: "Come in, I have 
 something to set before you." 
 
 43 
 
"Lest we forget." — Deuteronomy 4, 23. 
 
 Walter Scott described Old Mortality 
 going through the cemeteries of Scotland, 
 chiseling anew upon the tombstones the 
 names that time had well-nigh obliterated. 
 He explained his zeal for the memory of 
 those who had gone before by saying that 
 he wished to see the heroes of yesterday 
 march side by side with the youth of to- 
 day. As a nation and as individuals we 
 suffer an irreparable loss if we permit our- 
 selves to forget those whose sacrifice made 
 possible the priceless heritage we now enjoy. 
 "Death bringeth good fame," wrote Bacon. 
 But fame is a very empty thing, and alto- 
 gether useless, if those who come after 
 fail to remember the principles for which, 
 with no thought of fame, their fathers 
 gave their lives. Memorial Day comes once 
 a year, "bidding the distant generations 
 hail," saying, "Do not forget." 
 
 44 
 
O God, help us lest we forget. May we 
 remember thy name, for the remembrance 
 of thy name is the beginning of every holy 
 remembrance. To-day we would think 
 grateful thoughts as we look upon the vast 
 army that passes in review — soldier, sailor, 
 nurse, father, mother, friend, stranger — 
 all who have struggled across the battle- 
 fields of war or have been victorious in the 
 conflicts of peace. Thou, Father, dost not 
 forget; we must not. Help us to keep open 
 our Book of Remembrance. 
 
 45 
 
"Count it all joy when ye fall into divers tempta- 
 tions." — James I. 2. 
 
 What is your value as a man or a woman? 
 That can be answered only in the test. 
 We never know the value of a harvest until 
 it has come through the test of the grow- 
 ing season, until it has battled with storms, 
 blights, and insects. Gold is not true gold 
 until it has met the test of the refining 
 fire. Friendship shines in the test. David 
 and Jonathan were friends, for when Saul's 
 anger was unjustly kindled against David, 
 Jonathan sought David and said, "You 
 can count on me, I am your friend." Love 
 is strengthened in the test. I never pray 
 for young people whom I marry, "Lord, 
 deliver them from trials and hardships; 
 make all their pathway a pathway of ease." 
 Such a prayer would be base disloyalty 
 to the highest interests of the home. Pa- 
 triotism is glorified in the test. I would 
 not say that a man is not patriotic whose 
 patriotism had never been tested. But 
 we can say with greater certainty of tested 
 patriotism — there is a patriot. Religion is 
 proven in the test. A young man said to 
 me, "At home I seldom missed church; I 
 always went; everybody went; but here it 
 is different." At home, in his little country 
 town, he doubtless passed for a loyal wor- 
 shiper. But in the larger city his loyalty 
 was tested, and it failed in the test. 
 
 46' 
 
Lord, thou hast honored us in that thou 
 hast permitted us to dwell in an age when 
 faith is tested to the utmost. Conditions 
 and customs challenge our physical vigor and 
 spiritual habits. With joy we hail the test, 
 for under thy guidance we shall emerge 
 with mental poise, moral balance, and the 
 soul, in every way, triumphant. 
 
 47 
 
"They took knowledge of them, that they had 
 been with Jesus." — Acts 4. 13. 
 
 There are men who are proud to be 
 picked out as Harvard, Yale, or Oxford men. 
 One frequently meets people, and he does 
 not have to be long in their presence, ere 
 he learns that they are from Boston, Chi- 
 cago, San Francisco, or some other par- 
 ticular section of the country. Men also 
 bear the mark of their task. The physician, 
 business man, mechanic, farmer, soldier, 
 each gives evidence of where he has been 
 and what "he has been doing. It is not 
 sectarian or narrow for a minister to be 
 willing to be told that he preaches like a 
 Presbyterian or a Methodist. Long, long 
 ago there was a little group of men of 
 whom it was said, "The people took knowl- 
 edge of them, that they had been with 
 Jesus." The most hallowed place, of 
 haunting loveliness and surpassing strength, 
 is the place of fellowship with Christ. 
 Where is that place? Anywhere and every- 
 where. The practice of the presence of 
 Christ is not a matter of place, it is con- 
 trolled by purpose. Each of us, wherever 
 he goes, may show the purpose of the old 
 man in the Faber poem: 
 
 "Always his downcast eye 
 Was laughing silently, 
 As if he found some jubilee in thinking; 
 For his one thought was God, 
 In that one thought he abode, 
 Forever in that thought more deeply sinking." 
 
 48 
 
To be lost in thee, O Christ, that men 
 may gather, from our walk and talk, knowl- 
 edge of thy life, to this we daily aspire. 
 
 49 
 
"Add . . . knowledge." — 2 Peter 1. 5. 
 
 There are many kinds of addition. 
 Things may be thrown together, or they 
 may be methodically added one to the 
 other. True addition has method to it. 
 Out back of the church are several piles 
 of gravel, sand, cement, lumber, steel. 
 As they are now those piles mean very 
 little — they are just thrown together. They 
 are unsightly. But those several piles are 
 being methodically added one to the other 
 and, ere long, there will rise a useful and 
 attractive building. Christian character is 
 not haphazard. It is not a happening. It 
 is not something that is thrown together. 
 It is a methodical addition. First, there is 
 surrender to Christ. Then, beside this, 
 through long years of yearning, of dili- 
 gence, of patience, of purpose, of addition, 
 the structure of Christian character rises 
 and, complete at last, it stands 
 
 "With all its minarets and towers, 
 And sculptured marbles fair to see; 
 With all its airy pinnacles 
 So white against the cloudless blue; 
 With all its rich storied panes, 
 And mellowed sunlight streaming through." 
 
 50 
 
Thou hast put knowledge before me, O 
 Christ. Thou hast made me to know the 
 difference between the good and the bad. 
 Help me to discern between the good and 
 the best. To the knowledge that means' 
 power may I add the knowledge that means 
 culture. To the knowledge that means 
 culture may I add the knowledge that 
 means character. Forbid that I should be 
 satisfied with the mediocre. With all 
 my getting, I pray, help me to get thy 
 highest knowledge. 
 
 5i 
 
"The Lord was with Joseph, and he was pros- 
 perous." — Genesis jq. 2. 
 
 My father was a rich man. No, he did 
 not live on the Avenue, he was not the 
 head of a vast manufacturing plant, he 
 did not hold the stock of half a dozen 
 railroads, he did not ride about in a coach 
 and four — but he was rich. He was rich 
 in his religious faith. He loved his church, 
 he reveled in his Bible and all good liter- 
 ature, his highest pleasure was to put into 
 practice the principles of his religion. He 
 was rich in his home life. His house was 
 not pretentious, but it was a home. It 
 stood back a bit from the street, there was 
 a lawn in front, vines across the veranda; 
 in the rear were trees and shrubs. Within 
 there were eight rooms furnished with the 
 usual furniture for such a house — plus love, 
 confidence, sacrifice, toil. He was rich in 
 his friendships. Men who knew him said, 
 "We believe in him, he rings true." He 
 was rich in his citizenship. He served his 
 city, his state, and his country. He put 
 confidence into his citizenship, bravery into 
 his ballot, a pure and high motive into 
 his private and public acts. In these days 
 when temperance is sweeping on I recall 
 that his was "one of the voices crying in 
 the wilderness"; he was numbered among 
 the triumphant minority. To-day I glory 
 in the riches my earthly father be- 
 queathed me. 
 
 52 
 
Father in heaven, who holdeth the wealth 
 of the world in thy hands, we thank thee 
 for all the prosperous men from Joseph 
 down to the present day. Dwell thou with 
 us that we may be prosperous. Help us to 
 set our affection upon thee rather than 
 upon things; upon the home rather than 
 the house; upon service rather than salary; 
 upon manhood rather than money. We 
 thank thee for material wealth; help us 
 to spiritualize it by the act of consecration, 
 to increase it by investing it and using it 
 as a sacred trust held by us for the sake 
 of Christ's kingdom. 
 
 53 
 
"There was a man sent from God, whose name 
 was John." — John i. 6. 
 
 There was a man — made in the image 
 and likeness of God; with brain to think, 
 heart to feel, soul to aspire, will to do. 
 There was a man who loitered. He never 
 did things on time. He went lazily through 
 life. There was no energy to his task. 
 There was a man who frittered. He frit- 
 tered away his time; he frittered away his 
 talents. There was a man who joked. 
 He joked his way through the world. 
 Men laughed with him, they laughed at him; 
 they thought he was a joke. Lo, here 
 was a man who was sent. He gave the 
 impression of divine urgency. There was 
 a man sent from God. In the fifteenth 
 century the people of Florence besieged 
 San Marco's doors that they might get in 
 to hear Savonarola, who carried the con- 
 viction that he was sent from God. The 
 sense of divine ambassadorship is not the 
 property of priests and preachers. It be- 
 longs to all who will claim it. The church 
 of my boyhood was built up around the 
 ministry, not of a preacher but of a black- 
 smith. His picture hangs on the wall of 
 that great church. His memory is honored 
 there to-day. Blacksmith at the forge, 
 farmer in the field, soldier at the front, 
 toiler before the machine, business man at 
 your desk, mother in the home, teacher 
 in the school — you are divinely sent. 
 
 54 
 
Master, we ask forgiveness for our half- 
 hearted service. We have been indifferent, 
 cold of heart, and slow of step. We have 
 taken our religious life too much as a 
 matter of course. We would bestir our- 
 selves. Bestow thou upon us the sense of 
 divine urgency. Help us to walk as in 
 thy sight. May we work with the con- 
 sciousness of the importance of life and 
 the exceeding preciousness of time. May 
 we so live, through laughter and tears, 
 that men may think of us as sent from 
 God. 
 
 55 
 
"Be still, and know that I am God." — Psalm 
 46. 10. 
 
 Most of us are ready to be anything but 
 still. One of the most difficult things to 
 do is just this, to be still. We say to our 
 children, "Can't you be still a minute?" 
 Our very tone of impatience shows that 
 we ourselves have not learned the lesson. 
 Our motto is, "Let us be up and going," 
 rather than, "Let us sit still and be quiet." 
 I have read that one day the poet Southey 
 was telling how his time was occupied. 
 "I study Portuguese while I am shaving, 
 I translate Spanish an hour before break- 
 fast, I read all the forenoon and write all 
 the afternoon; every moment of the day 
 is filled with something." An old Quaker 
 woman was listening, and when he had 
 finished she remarked, "Friend, when does 
 thee do thy thinking?" Malcolm J. Mc- 
 Leod says that the Anglican Church brackets 
 her ministers under three adjectives: high 
 churchmen, low churchmen, broad church- 
 men. The late Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 Dr. Benson, remarked that what was 
 needed most was deep churchmen. The 
 tremendous need of the man of this age 
 is depth. He shows himself a man of God 
 who, in the midst of the world's shallow- 
 ness of thought, is able to commune with 
 his own heart and be still. 
 
 56 
 
Thou whose strength is in quietness, 
 help us to be quiet. Thou who speakest 
 not in the earthquake, nor the fire, nor 
 the wind, but in the still small voice, help 
 us to be still. As Moses waited forty years 
 in the desert, may we be willing to tarry 
 a few moments in quietness. As John 
 found unction in the wilderness, may we 
 be glad, now and then, to be the solitaire. 
 As thou, O Christ, didst find strength in 
 seclusion, may we be resolved to come apart 
 with thee and rest awhile. 
 
 57 
 
"The Lord hath anointed me to preach." — 
 Isaiah 61. i. 
 
 This applies to the plowman no less 
 than the priest; to men in general as well 
 as ministers in particular; to children no 
 less than to those of maturer years; to 
 women as well as to men (in the matter 
 of the Lord's work there is no question of 
 suffrage). As the farmer serves, no less 
 than the man who fights at/ the front, so 
 all people are preachers. To preach, we 
 say, means to stand in the pulpit and 
 speak. Yes, but do not pulpits differ? 
 There is the ornate preaching place of the 
 Episcopal Church; the John Knox pulpit, 
 boxlike, of the old Presbyterian Church; 
 the massive pulpit of the modern church; 
 the plain platform faced by the people 
 who follow a free and unelaborated worship. 
 But there are other pulpits, and they too 
 differ. There is the student's pulpit, the 
 business man's pulpit, the public official's 
 pulpit, the private citizen's pulpit, the 
 soldier's pulpit, the housewife's pulpit — ■ 
 whoever pulsates with life preaches from 
 a pulpit. You speak from your pulpit, 
 by your words, your actions, your influ- 
 ence. Just now, in this moral crisis, what 
 sort of doctrine comes from your pulpit? 
 In this day of your country's trial are you 
 preaching loyalty, economy, self-denial ? Do 
 prayers go up from your pulpit in behalf 
 of a suffering humanity? 
 
 58 
 
O my soul, look well to the light that 
 shines from thy life. Is it true, or does it 
 lead men astray? Is it clear, or does it 
 direct in ways one's conscience condemns? 
 Is its blaze steady, or dost thou suffer it 
 to grow dim in some dark hour of tempta- 
 tion? Let thy pulpit flame be lighted 
 from the lamp of His Word — it never grows 
 dim nor leads astray. 
 
 59 
 
"Little children, keep yourselves from idols." — 
 I John 5. 21. 
 
 What, do we need this admonition? The 
 heathen in his blindness bows down to 
 wood and stone, but we are not idol wor- 
 shipers. Are you sure? Here is a defini- 
 tion, "An idol is a person or thing extrav- 
 agantly loved and honored; that on which 
 the affections are inordinately set; a phan- 
 tom of the brain; a misleading habit of 
 reasoning; a fallacious tendency." In one 
 of his books Bacon speaks of idols, and for 
 the sake of distinctions he names four 
 classes. First, there are "idols of the 
 tribe"; those sins which beset us as mem- 
 bers of the great tribe, the human family. 
 Second, "idols of the cave"; by which he 
 means the evil tendencies of the individaul 
 life, for each one "has a cave of his own 
 which refracts and discolors the light of 
 nature." Third, the "idols of the market- 
 place" are made up of "false opinions 
 generated in the crowd, numberless empty 
 controversies and idle fancies." Fourth, 
 "idols of the theater"; by which he means 
 the foolish philosophies of life; he calls 
 them idols of the theater because, to his 
 mind, they seem "mere stage plays, repre- 
 senting unreal worlds in unreal ways." 
 Yes, we will listen, for we need this warning 
 word, "Keep yourselves from idols." 
 
 60 
 
Our Father, thou who art the one true 
 and living God, we turn from our idols 
 to thee; from our sin to thine own self; 
 from our greed to thy goodness; from our 
 inordinate affections to thy pure love; 
 from our foolish theories to thy firm Word: 
 our idols, O Christ, whatever they may 
 be, we tear them from their throne and 
 worship only thee. 
 
 61 
 
"My grace is sufficient for thee." — 2 Corinthians 
 12. p. 
 
 Grace, defined as "God's love in action," 
 is all sufficient. It is good to know that 
 in a world of need there is one storehouse 
 that cannot be emptied. Humanity, in a 
 never-ending stream, may enter to claim 
 its riches, but they cannot be exhausted. 
 Besides, in what a variety of cases does 
 divine grace meet our needs. We cannot 
 imagine any condition of life, any experience 
 possible for men and women, in which it 
 fails. The climax is reached when we read 
 that in weakness His strength is made 
 manifest. The apostle's thorn in the flesh, 
 whatever it was, was always present. Paul 
 knew it was something that would never 
 leave him; but the grace all sufficient 
 turned the groanings into gloryings. We 
 rest upon this promise. No, we go ahead 
 upon this promise. For grace is God's 
 love in action. Sufficient grace is not for 
 the idlers; it is for the industrious. Robert- 
 son of Brighton had a lifelong infirmity; 
 but here, where his greatest weakness lay, 
 appeared his greatest strength. His biog- 
 rapher says of him, "He transmuted the 
 dross of his nature into gold by the alchemy 
 of Christian effort." God's love in action, 
 which made his character crystal, is suffi- 
 cient for you. "Do not pray for easy 
 lives," says Phillips Brooks. "Pray to be 
 stronger men and women." 
 
 62 
 
I do not ask, O Lord, for an easy task. 
 I do not want that all barriers should be 
 broken down for me. I only pray that 
 I may have strength in weakness; the will 
 to do my work as thou shalt point it out 
 to me; and that I may trust thy grace, 
 not only in occasional emergencies, but in 
 daily experiences. 
 
 63 
 
"The people bring much more than enough for 
 the service of the . . . sanctuary. So the people 
 were restrained from bringing." — Exodus 36. 5-6. 
 
 More than enough — what a refreshing 
 thought. The tabernacle filled, the temple 
 orderly, the treasury overflowing, the people 
 eager to serve — glad tidings indeed. So the 
 people were not constrained to bring, but 
 restrained from bringing. Are the Chris- 
 tian people of our generation so united, 
 so enthusiastic that restraint instead of 
 constraint is the entreaty from the pulpit? 
 What does the Lord ask us to bring to 
 the service of our sanctuary? Worship. 
 "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it 
 holy. ... I was glad when they said unto 
 me, Let us go into the house of the Lord." 
 Service. "If any man will come after me, 
 let him deny himself, and take up his cross 
 daily, and follow me." Substance. "Bring 
 ye all the tithes into the storehouse, . . . 
 and prove me herewith, saith the Lord." 
 Allegiance. "He that is not for me is 
 against me." A good example. "Be thou 
 an example to them that believe, in word, 
 in manner of life, in love, in faith, in purity." 
 Prayer. "I will therefore that men orav 
 •everywhere, lifting up holy hands." 
 
 64 
 
Saviour of men, thou who didst, without 
 constraint, pour out thy life for us, we 
 lift our hands to thee. We would that 
 they might be holy hands, of worship, of 
 service, and of prayer. To thy great 
 gift which thou didst make for us, help 
 us to so respond that heaven and earth 
 shall echo with the entreaty — "Restrain, 
 restrain, my people bring more than enough." 
 
 65 
 
"Trust in him at all times." — Psalm 62. 8. 
 
 This trumpet gives forth no uncertain 
 sound. Trust in Him at all times. The 
 time or the occasion is unthinkable in 
 which Christ is not to be trusted. Trust 
 him in the dark and in the light, for night 
 and day are both alike to him. Trust him 
 on land and on sea, for God and heaven 
 are as near the water as the land. Trust 
 him in times of danger and in places of 
 safety; let us not be doubtful of his power 
 to keep us when danger surrounds, nor 
 boastful of our power to keep ourselves 
 when all men cry "peace and safety." 
 Trust him in sickness and in health; let 
 us keep the health, found in him and 
 reflected in our countenance, and when 
 sickness comes let us supplement medical 
 skill with calmness and confidence in the 
 Great Physician. Trust him in plenty and 
 in want, in sorrow and in joy, when har- 
 vests are good and when harvests are bad, 
 when business is brisk and when it moves 
 with leaden feet. I will trust in him and 
 do my part. He has made me gifts for use; 
 I will use them. He has made me a partner 
 in his blessed work; I resolve to do my 
 share in this privileged partnership. I 
 will do my best and leave the rest. 
 
 66 
 
O Lord, failure is all about us. We 
 have failed, and all because we have not 
 trusted or we have trusted amiss. We 
 have built upon the sands, we have put 
 our faith in things that were fleeting, and 
 now we come to thee, for thou art the 
 sure foundation. Help us to build upon 
 thy Word. May we have grace to say, 
 "I follow," when thou dost say, "I lead." 
 E'en in the valley of the shadow we will 
 trust thee, for thou art with us. Each 
 morning we will go out to work for thee; 
 each evening we will come in to rest in 
 thee. Thus day and night, trusting in 
 thee at all times, our time will pass and 
 mingle at last with eternity. 
 
 67 
 
"And they sing the song of Moses . . . and the 
 Lamb." — Revelation 15. 3. 
 
 What is the most inspiring music you 
 ever heard? An old man wrote me a 
 letter a few days ago; he told of being in 
 Boston in 1869 for the great Peace Jubilee, 
 sung in praise of the ending of the Civil 
 War. There was a chorus of 10,000 voices, 
 an orchestra of 1,000 pieces; 200 anvils had 
 been placed on the platform for use in the 
 "Anvil Chorus." There were huge bells, 
 and outside, in the park, was artillery to 
 be fired, by electricity, in harmony with 
 the chorus. At the head of the 200 violins 
 stood the world's greatest violinist, Ole 
 Bull, who had them so trained that their 
 bows worked as in the hand of one man. 
 Parepa Rosa was the soloist, of whose 
 singing that day Talmage said, "It will 
 never again be equalled on earth." When, 
 in the "Star Spangled Banner," she sang 
 the high "C," with the fortefortissimo 
 accompaniment of the full chorus and 
 orchestra, the bells and cannon, it was 
 so loud and clear that it seemed to bury 
 that wonderful accompaniment. Nothing 
 like it was ever heard before, and never 
 will be again. The letter closed, "I am an 
 old man now, but am looking forward to 
 the music of Heaven, where there will be 
 music infinitely superior to the marvelous 
 chorus I listened to that day." Yes, and 
 his voice will be heard in the song of Moses 
 and the Lamb. 
 
 68 
 
O God, if we are to have a part in the 
 song of Heaven, must we not begin to fit 
 ourselves on earth? How we need to keep 
 our gaze upon thee, our Leader, yet how 
 our eyes wander away from thee! Out 
 of time, out of tune, the music we make 
 is discordant sound. Help us, Master, to 
 find the lost chord, that, here as there, 
 we may join in the grand Amen. 
 
 69 
 
"Thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know 
 hereafter." — John 13. 7. . 
 
 We are very much like children. We 
 cannot wait. Do we want a thing? We 
 want it at once, no waiting. The promise 
 of the future means little to us. Our desire 
 must be gratified. Impatience leads to many 
 another defect in character. We find our- 
 selves growing irritable if things do not 
 go just as we want them to, and that right 
 away. Impatience destroys usefulness. The 
 impatient man cannot stand as a tower of 
 strength to those about him who need 
 the shadow of a great rock. Eagerness to 
 know things quickly never made a sincere 
 student nor a great scholar. The desire 
 to build things, and to build hurriedly, 
 results in mushroom structures and institu- 
 tions. God does not do things hurriedly. 
 With him "a thousand years are as a watch 
 in the night." God honors the man who 
 takes him at his word, who goes right 
 ahead, doing his work, confident that the 
 newer day will bring the fuller knowledge. 
 ' 'Never think that God's delays are God's 
 denials. Hold on; hold fast; hold out." 
 It is good to think that what is hidden 
 from us now will some day be revealed. 
 O the dark sayings, the strange experiences 
 there are in life! Could we but know! 
 Some day, "face to face, we shall know even 
 as also we are known." Therefore wait, 
 in quietness and confidence, for "patience is 
 the ballast of the soul." 
 
 70 
 
Give us faith, our Saviour, to believe 
 that the passing years will unfold to us 
 many things we cannot now understand. 
 May the wondrous healing qualities of time 
 work upon our troubled souls. And while 
 we wait, help us to work. And while we 
 are patient, help us to persist in all good 
 things. May we be profited by that which 
 is withheld as truly as by that which is 
 revealed. 
 
 7i 
 
"As thy days, so shall thy strength be." — 
 Deuteronomy 33. 25. 
 
 "Lord, for to-morrow and its needs 
 I do not pray; 
 Keep me, my God, from stain of sin 
 Just for to-day." 
 
 In this hymn we frequently sing we find 
 faith at its highest point. What a simple 
 thing it is, how readily we all admit it, 
 yet how difficult it is to do — to live one 
 day at a time. The late Robert J. Burdette 
 used to say, "There are two days in the 
 week about which I never worry, two care- 
 free days, kept sacredly free from fear and 
 apprehension. One of these days is yester- 
 day. Yesterday, with all its cares and 
 frets, with all its pains and aches, all its 
 faults, its mistakes and blunders, has passed 
 forever beyond the reach of my recall. 
 It was mine. It is God's. The other day 
 that I do not worry about is to-morrow. 
 To-morrow, with all its possible adver- 
 sities, its burdens, its perils, its large prom- 
 ise and poor performance, its failures and 
 mistakes, is as far beyond the reach of 
 mastery as its dead sister, yesterday. It is 
 a day of God's." But to-day belongs to me. 
 I can bear to-day's burden. I can conquer 
 to-day's temptation. I can be friendly 
 to-day. I can be strong to-day. I have 
 work to-day. I am clothed to-day. I am 
 fed to-day. The meaning in our Lord's 
 prayer is very deep, "Give us this day our 
 daily bread." 
 
 72 
 
Saviour, we seek strength for this day. 
 Forgive us our sin of yesterday. Take 
 away our dread of to-morrow. Help us to 
 receive this gift from thy hands, this gift 
 of to-day, and use it as though there never 
 was such a day as this, for there never was, 
 and never again will there be. 
 
 73 
 
"The Lord . . . guided them on every side." — 
 2 Chronicles 32. 22. 
 
 On every side — above, beneath, and round 
 about. We are shortsighted; God is far 
 visioned. Enemies we cannot see lurk 
 beyond the turn in the road; God's eye is 
 everywhere. We are watchful lest some 
 dread disease attack the body; God guards 
 no less vigilantly against the sicknesses of 
 the soul. We see chance enemies in the 
 flesh; Christ said, "Fear him which is able 
 to destroy both soul and body in hell." 
 With an adequate army and navy we 
 imagine ourselves protected; God sees the 
 foes within and summons us to be doubly 
 fortified by the cleansing of the heart. 
 God's guidance forms a triangle. The first 
 side is God's ability to guide. Man has 
 never called in question the infinite power 
 of the Creator; he is above all, and through 
 all, and all in all. The triangle's second 
 side is, man's willingness to be guided. 
 What rebellious souls we are, knowing 
 right but doing evil, mindful of the good 
 but choosing the bad, taking the soft and 
 easy way when God would guide us to 
 strength by the road of a hard task. The 
 third side is, God's method of guidance. 
 The voice of conscience, our better judg- 
 ment, the study of his Word, finding him 
 in the place of worship, the influence of 
 manly and womanly Christian associates — 
 thus is God's good guidance manifested. 
 
 74 
 
God of the centuries, thou who didst 
 give our fathers for their guidance a cloudy 
 pillar by day and a pillar of fire by night, 
 guide us, we pray. We crave not the out- 
 ward glamour; we ask the inner evidence. 
 Hearing the still small voice within, be- 
 lieving that the everlasting arms are round 
 about, may we daily trust thy good guidance. 
 
"Are there not twelve hours in the day?" — 
 John ii. g. 
 
 Christ spoke these words. He, very 
 Son of God, heir of all the ages, from ever- 
 lasting to everlasting, with eternity at 
 his command, hear mm as he speaks of 
 time in terms of hours. Yes, right here is 
 the difficulty. "Have I not twelve hours," 
 I boast, "time enough for all my work?" 
 And the simple fact that I have time 
 makes me procrastinate. "0 1 can do that 
 to-morrow," I say; but for that special 
 duty to-morrow never comes. Young man, 
 how old are you? "Twenty-five years; I 
 have plenty of time." Christ did not think 
 so. When he was but a lad he said, "Wist 
 ye not that I must be about my Father's 
 business?" In the midst of his public 
 ministry he said, "I must work the works 
 of him that sent me, while it is yet day; 
 for the night cometh when no man can 
 work." How much of his work have you 
 done this past week? How many hours 
 did you spend in prayer? How many 
 hours did you give to thinking true thoughts 
 and translating them into deeds? How 
 many hours did you spend in satisfying 
 self, and how many in serving Christ? 
 It takes but a moment to speak a cruel 
 word ; the tears fall for many an hour. One 
 hour of sin may mean a lifetime of regret. 
 "The curfew tolls the knell of passing day." 
 There are twelve hours, but only twelve 
 hours. 
 
 76 
 
O Christ, thou who didst wisely use the 
 hours of thine earthly life; thou who didst 
 come to the eleventh hour with no vain 
 regrets — help me to redeem the time. 
 Toward the highest I would hourly tend; 
 in thy service I would daily lose myself. 
 
 77 
 
"I have seen thee in the sanctuary." — Psalm 
 63. 2. 
 
 A man is known by the places he fre- 
 quents. I have the right to judge a man 
 by the places in which I see him. Sir, 
 I saw you at your business the other day. 
 That's fine. You must make a living for 
 yourself and for your family. I saw you at 
 the lodge last evening. Excellent. Human 
 life is, after all, something of a fraternity. 
 I saw you in the club reading room yes- 
 terday afternoon. Splendid. Do not let 
 your mind go to seed. I saw you on the 
 gymnasium floor. Good. You will live 
 longer, you will be happier, you will do 
 better work by keeping your body in trim. 
 I saw you — no, I did not see you in the 
 sanctuary last Sunday; and the Sunday 
 before that I missed you. Where were you? 
 What Men Live By is one of the best books 
 of recent years, written by Richard C. 
 Cabot, M.D. In thirty-four virile, fas- 
 cinating chapters he tells men that the 
 four things by which they live are "Work, 
 Play, Love, Worship." Each man can 
 estimate for himself how much of a man 
 he is by the attention he gives to these 
 four things. Shall I be seen of men at 
 my work, at my play, in my home, and 
 refuse to give my presence to the sanctuary? 
 Shall I stop short of the fullest develop- 
 ment of my manhood? Am I content to 
 be three fourths of a man? What, does 
 one go to church to be seen of men? No. 
 "I have seen thee in the sanctuary." 
 78 
 
Lord of life, we have seen thee in the 
 sanctuary; therefore with joy we regularly 
 set our faces toward thy holy hill. We 
 come, not as the Pharisee came, to be 
 seen of men, but that we may see thee. 
 Open thou our eyes that we may see. In- 
 spire thou our hearts that we may will 
 to seek thee in thy rightful place, the 
 sanctuary. 
 
 79 
 
"When I call to remembrance the unfeigned 
 faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grand- 
 mother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am 
 persuaded that in thee also." — 2 Timothy 1. 5. 
 
 A clause in the will of the late Governor 
 Penny-packer of Pennsylvania runs thus, 
 "To my daughter Josephine I give and 
 bequeath the silver dollar given me by my 
 grandmother, which has been in my pocket 
 wherever I have gone during the last 
 fifty-five years." He further speaks of 
 the coin as "the one concrete thing most 
 closely associated with me personally.' * 
 Forty-five years ago the men who worked 
 for my grandfather gave him a gold watch. 
 In due time it came into my possession, 
 and its sentiment is preserved in the watch 
 I carry to-day. Thus do we highly prize 
 tangible things, not so much because of 
 their value, but because of the sentiment 
 connected therewith. Paul suggested some- 
 thing to Timothy, a gift that had come 
 down to him, through his parents, from 
 his grandparents. "The faith that is in 
 thee, 1 ' is more precious than any concrete 
 heirlooms. I but dimly remember my 
 grandfather (he died when I was a small 
 boy), but I remember enough to know 
 that the faith I have to-day is largely the 
 faith he gave to my father. 
 
 80 
 
God of our fathers, to thee we look. 
 Thou didst dwell with them; thou art still 
 with us. For the faith that was in them 
 we praise thee. It did not fail them; it 
 will ever be our stay and strength. For 
 the things they left us, that we can see 
 and handle, we are grateful. But our 
 confidence is in the faith that led them 
 safely through and will bring us some day 
 to see them face to face. 
 
 81 
 
"The foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines." 
 — Song of Solomon 2. 15. 
 
 For seven years my home was in the 
 vineyard country. Is there any sight more 
 beautiful than a well cultivated vineyard? 
 The vines are planted a certain distance 
 apart, in straight lines. Like soldiers 
 drawn up for review, rank upon rank, reg- 
 iment after regiment, the long rows of 
 grapes for miles guard the country high- 
 way. I know what it means to be a vine- 
 yard keeper ; scores of those men I counted 
 my friends. I walked with them across 
 their fields; they talked with me of their 
 difficulties. Always it was the little foxes 
 they were combating. A terrific storm would 
 sweep the country, a late frost would come, 
 but the vineyard would survive these. 
 It was the tiny insect, the hidden worm, 
 the deadly blight — these little foxes were 
 the spoilers of the vines. It is so in char- 
 acter. Who is ever tempted to commit the 
 great sin that with one fell swoop would 
 destroy him body and soul? The little 
 sins are our chief enemies; they are most 
 difficult to combat. Little sins grow. In- 
 significant to-day; to-morrow they have the 
 strength of a giant. Little sins multiply. 
 The one He becomes many; the one drink 
 becomes a dozen; the one neglect is soon 
 a habit. Like the giant of old, prostrated 
 by the dwarfs, we are bound by the threads 
 of our little sins. 
 
 82 
 
Thou, Lord, who didst never despise the 
 day of small things, may I not under- 
 estimate the power of the little sins. Help 
 me not to be boastful, saying, "I can stop 
 any time," for by that very confession 
 the thread becomes a rope. While yet I 
 am master of myself I choose the unfet- 
 tered way. In thy path, Christ, is full- 
 ness of liberty, and at thy right hand are 
 pleasures without a sting. 
 
 83 
 
"Moses wist not that ... his face shone." — 
 Exodus 34. 2Q. 
 
 "Samson . . . wist not that the Lord was de- 
 parted from him." — Judges 16. 20. 
 
 Each of these men wist not that he was 
 what he was. The one reflected in his 
 countenance the glory of a lofty experience. 
 The other showed the depths to which he 
 had sunk. Both were unconscious of their 
 condition. Unconscious goodness is the 
 most attractive. Real righteousness is not 
 advertised, does not parade itself; it shines 
 as the light, with quiet, pure rays; it is 
 unaware of its far-reaching beneficence. I 
 know a man whose work for God is felt 
 in every country under the sun. The 
 reason men not only heed his word, but 
 honor and love him, is that his goodness 
 streams from him as an effortless, at least 
 unconscious, ray of light. It is equally 
 true that the most repulsive recreancy is 
 found in the man who will not own that 
 his strength has departed from him. I 
 had a young friend for whom I predicted 
 a life of unusual usefulness in the work of 
 the Kingdom. His strength was as the 
 strength of ten of his companions, he was 
 so gifted. Years passed ere I looked into 
 his face again. He had changed. He was 
 not the young man I had known. His 
 strength was gone. The pathetic thing 
 was that he thought he was as spiritually 
 true and morally keen as ever; he wist 
 not that the Lord had departed from him. 
 
 84 
 
Thou, Master, who art able to save 
 from the uttermost to the uttermost; thou 
 who wilt hold from falling those who place 
 themselves in thy keeping; thou who dost 
 dwell with men, whose Spirit shines, un- 
 aware, through the faces of those who give 
 themselves to thee — I ask that thou wilt 
 lead me to the heights, that thou wilt 
 cause my life to shine with an unconscious 
 goodness. Above all I pray that I may 
 be saved from falling into the depths, 
 shorn of my power, yet boastful that I 
 possess it. 
 
 85 
 
"I am among you as he that serveth." — Luke 22. 27. 
 
 To serve means to save; to save one's 
 own self, of course, but others as well. He 
 dwarfs his own soul who says, "I am among 
 you as one making money, seeking pleasure, 
 following my fancies." Temptations are 
 overcome in the life of the one who says, "I 
 am among you as one that serveth," and 
 joy is his. Much energy has been wasted 
 and many foolish things have been done 
 trying to make it easy for people to come 
 into the church, and so pleasant for them 
 after they are in that they will not become 
 displeased. Self-content is the result not 
 of self-ease but of self-dedication. Dan 
 Crawford spent twenty-two years without 
 a break in the long grass of Central Africa. 
 A few years ago he emerged and gave to 
 the world an enduring book, Thinking 
 Black. Then he plunged back into obscu- 
 rity. But Konga Vantu (his African name) 
 could not hide himself. He is before the 
 eyes of the world. His life of service has 
 made a radiant pathway to his wilderness 
 home. Apply the phrase — Thinking Self or 
 Thinking Service. "I am convinced," said 
 a young man to me, "that one's salvation, 
 one's triumph in character, depends upon 
 finding something to do, some fields of serv- 
 ice outside of one's required work." 
 
 86 
 
My soul, too much hast thou pleased 
 thyself and served too little. Thou hast 
 been filled with ease and empty of enduring 
 things. Thou hast sought thine own ecstasy 
 and refused to extend thy borders. Thou 
 hast harped upon pleasure and hope to avoid 
 poverty thereby, but thou art emaciated; 
 I hardly recognize thee as my soul. Rouse 
 thyself, deny thyself, give thyself, answer 
 thou the roll-call to which the Son of God 
 eagerly responded; say with him, "I am 
 among you as he that serveth." 
 
 87 
 
"Day unto day uttereth speech." — Psalm ig. 2. 
 
 So the days have the gift of speech. 
 "Speech is the impassable barrier that exists 
 shutting the beast from man." But here 
 is something that challenges man in his 
 power of speech — the days have this in- 
 estimable gift. What does the Sabbath 
 day speak to you? Is it simply the end 
 of another week, a day upon which you 
 stay away from the office, the store or the 
 shop? Is it a day given over entirely to 
 the automobile, the carriage, the pleasure 
 excursion, the games, or does the Sabbath 
 day lift up its voice and speak to you say- 
 ing, "This is the day which the Lord hath 
 made, remember it, to rest in it and keep 
 it holy"? What do Monday, Tuesday, 
 Wednesday, and the days of the week 
 speak to you? Do they say, "Another day 
 of toil and drudgery, I'm weary of it all," 
 or does the rising sun of each week day 
 utter this voice: "Here's another day of 
 blessed task, a day of privilege, a day in 
 which I may earn my living, a day through 
 which I may work shoulder to shoulder 
 with my fellow man and strengthen him 
 for the better things of life"? 
 
 88 
 
Father in Heaven, thou who didst create 
 the days and give them light, thou who 
 didst lead us to know the light of day, thou 
 who hast given us days upon days we have 
 never deserved, forgive us for having wasted 
 so many of them, for having in the acts 
 of those days denied thee again and again. 
 Help us that each day may be a new day, 
 a day whose voice shall speak strength, 
 sympathy, manliness, womanliness, Christ- 
 likeness. 
 
 89 
 
"Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man 
 take thy crown." — Revelation 3. 11. 
 
 A thing worth having is worth holding. 
 The best possessions are not gripped by 
 the hand, they are held in the heart. Faith, 
 hope, love, confidence in Christ, loyalty to 
 his church, the conquest of wrong — these 
 are the things worth having and holding. 
 They are not to be left behind when we 
 journey afar, they are to be taken with us. 
 A young man who was going to a great 
 city to make his way in the world fell in 
 with an old sea captain who asked him if 
 he had letters of introduction. "Certainly," 
 said the young man, producing them. 
 "Have you a church certificate?" asked the 
 captain. "O yes, but I did not suppose 
 you desired to see that." "Yes," said the 
 sea captain, "I want to see that. As soon 
 as you reach the city hunt up your church 
 and present that. I am an old sailor, and 
 have been up and down in the world; 
 and it is my rule, as soon as I get into port, 
 to fasten my ship fore and aft to the wharf, 
 although it may cost a little wharfage, 
 rather than have my ship out in the stream, 
 floating hither and thither with the tide." 
 We are sailors and travelers. We drop 
 anchor in many a port, we tarry in many 
 a city. To hold that fast which we have 
 is difficult but it is needful, that no man 
 take our crown. 
 
 90 
 
We are thankful, O Lord, for the great 
 possession of Christian character, for a 
 redeemed manhood and womanhood. Help 
 us to hold fast our heritage. As thou hast 
 given us the crown may we have strength 
 and determination to keep it. 
 
 91 
 
"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the un- 
 righteous man his thoughts: and let him return 
 unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; 
 and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." 
 — Isaiah 55. 7. 
 
 Forsaking. "Let the wicked forsake his 
 way." The Christian life begins at this 
 point; the old ways must be forsaken, 
 new paths must be sought. "Old things 
 are passed away, behold all things are 
 become new." The military term, "Right 
 about, face," must be applied to the moral 
 realm. 
 
 Forgetting. "The unrighteous man his 
 thoughts." The penetrating power of the 
 work of grace is very great. We must 
 get out of the habit of evil thinking. The 
 sinful deed begins with the sinful thought. 
 Yes, we must let Christ control our thoughts. 
 "Forgetting those things which are be- 
 hind," said Paul. He did not mean that 
 the past was blotted out, rather he meant 
 that evil thinking was a thing of the past. 
 
 Returning. "Let him return unto the 
 Lord." The impulse of the heart must be 
 translated into action. "I will arise and 
 go to my father," said the young man. 
 All the distance he had wandered away 
 from home, with weary but glad steps he 
 returned. And having of his own will 
 returned he was — 
 
 Received. "For he will abundantly par- 
 don." This is the promise divine — "Him 
 that cometh unto me I will in no wise 
 cast out." The Father's arms are ever 
 open to receive those who will return. 
 92 
 
Heavenly Father, we would be wholly 
 thine, body, mind, and spirit. Help us 
 to forsake every wicked way. May we 
 put out of our minds the evil thinking 
 with which we have so often benumbed our 
 moral and spiritual sensibilities. We re- 
 turn to thee, the royal way of complete 
 consecration. Do thou • receive us and use 
 us in thy service. 
 
 93 
 
"Now Peter and John went up together into 
 the temple at the hour of prayer." — Acts j. i. 
 
 From Pentecost to prayer. From the 
 mountain-top experience that thrilled their 
 souls to the quiet act of worship. In that 
 wonderful hour the Holy Spirit had been 
 given them, but that did not supply the 
 need of customary prayer. God gives to 
 his people now and then Pentecostal expe- 
 riences; at the same time we need to be 
 persistent in our ordinary religious duties. 
 Do you imagine that you can get along 
 without prayer? Peter and John had 
 no such idea. Immediately following the 
 most extraordinary experience of their 
 lives they turned quietly to the house 
 of God. They went up together to the 
 temple. Do not go alone to the house of 
 God. Take some one with you. Go a 
 little early if necessary, step out of your 
 ordinary course that you may be accom- 
 panied upon your errand of worship. Peter 
 and John had been partners in the fishing 
 trade; they now become associated in the 
 act of prayer. The business of the street 
 and the water front is carried on more 
 smoothly because of fellowship in worship. 
 To go down to the office or shop or store 
 at the hour of toil marks one a faithful 
 partner in the business at which he makes 
 a living. To go up to the temple at the 
 hour of prayer opens to us the divine 
 partnership, showing men that we are 
 striving also to make a life. 
 
 94 
 
O God, we thank thee for all the blessed 
 associations of our days. We praise thee 
 for loved ones in the home, for friends in 
 the social circle, for partners in business, 
 for companions along the highway. Like- 
 wise we are grateful for fellowship in prayer. 
 We rejoice that worship is an act of the 
 people, assembling themselves together. In 
 prayer and in practice may we be found 
 among those who cordially say Amen. 
 
 95 
 
"The weapons of our warfare are not material, 
 but mighty through God to the tearing down of 
 strongholds." — 2 Corinthians 10. 4. 
 
 The Christian life is a warfare. Christ 
 taught this. Our fond idea, that the 
 church is a place of refuge and that Chris- 
 tianity is a propaganda of peace, is all 
 wrong. "I came not to send peace but a 
 sword," said Christ. Never did he meet 
 evil without smiting it in the face. I have 
 heard the phrase, "meddlesome mission- 
 aries." It is really a compliment. David 
 Livingstone "meddled" with the slave 
 trade of Africa. John G. Paton "meddled" 
 with the cannibalism of the Hebrides. 
 William Carey "meddled" with the ignor- 
 ance of India. Robert Morrison "meddled" 
 with the backwardness of China. Wilfred 
 Grenfell is "meddling" with the unliv- 
 ableness of Labrador. In the highest 
 sense every Christian ought to be a 
 "meddler." I have a friend who is a fore- 
 most Christian in one of our great Amer- 
 ican cities. A few weeks since he wrote, 
 "In our city are thugs and highwaymen. 
 I am sometimes out late at night, and have 
 to walk through poorly lighted streets. I 
 generally carry a cane — for I am a militant 
 Quaker." He is a Quaker; I remember 
 when he wore his hair long, touching his 
 collar; he is preeminently a man of peace, 
 but it is a joy to see him blaze forth with 
 righteous indignation whenever evil of any 
 sort raises its ugly head in his pathway. 
 
 96 
 
Thou art, O Christ, the Captain of 
 our salvation. Help us in our warfare. 
 Give us victory in the battle that we have 
 with ourselves — our own besetting sins. 
 Strengthen us in the warfare with evil 
 round about; may we stand above it and 
 conquer. 
 
 97 
 
"I girded thee, though thou hast not known 
 me." — Isaiah 45. j. 
 
 My friend, is this true of your life? God 
 has given you sight, yet you have not 
 seen him. He has given hearing, yet you 
 have not heard his voice. He has given 
 you speech, yet you have not spoken his 
 praise. He has given you strength, yet 
 you have not served him. He has given 
 you friends, yet you have not entered 
 into the friendship which sanctifies all 
 others, the friendship of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ. He has given you godly parents, 
 a goodly heritage, a great nation, yet you 
 have not acknowledged the "giver of every 
 good and perefct gift." Even in the harsh 
 experiences God has been with you, blessing 
 you and working his will. The novelist, 
 George Macdonald, put into the mouth of 
 one of his characters who had been buf- 
 feted by severe experiences and in rebellion 
 was complaining to a friend of the hard- 
 ness of her life, these words — u O I would 
 to God I had never been made." The 
 friend quietly replied, "Why, my child, 
 you are not yet made; you are just being 
 made, and here you are quarreling with 
 God's processes." God was girding her, 
 day by day. He was with her, refining 
 her character, fitting her for usefulness. 
 My friend, could the voice divine speak 
 to you this tender but sad condemnation 
 — "I have girded thee though thou hast 
 not known me"? 
 
 98 
 
 
Lord, this Thanksgiving month we pray- 
 that we may have the spirit of thankful- 
 ness. May we not be numbered among 
 those thankless children whose ingratitude 
 is "sharper than a serpent's tooth. ' ' Through 
 good report and through ill thou hast been 
 with us. Thou hast "covered our head." 
 Therefore we covenant with thee that this 
 may be said — "J have girded thee and thou 
 hast known me." 
 
 99 
 
"And, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, 
 went before them." — Matthew 2. g. 
 
 The wise men were star-led. Nothing 
 less than a star could have guided them. 
 The wise men were astrologers. Their 
 study of the stars was doubtless tainted 
 with ignorance and superstition, yet to 
 the representatives of this imperfect sys- 
 tem the star of Christ came. The star 
 stood then for the highest and best in life; 
 so it stands to-day. The life that is star- 
 led is the life that interprets God to the 
 world, that comes finally to the Christ. 
 What is it that is leading our lives? Are 
 we star-led? Are we coming step by step, 
 though it be through imperfect reasoning 
 at times, to Christ? This is the world's 
 need. The problem of life is not the prob- 
 lem of wealth, nor of society, nor of knowl- 
 edge — it is the problem of consecration. 
 The great ideal is to get wealth, society 
 and knowledge consecrated, dedicated to 
 a high and holy purpose, to get them 
 star-led. O the power of wealth that is 
 star-led! O the influence of a society that 
 is star-controlled! O the depth and height 
 of a knowledge that is star-guided! 
 
Our Master and our Lord, whose life 
 is the purest, whose light is the clearest, 
 we look to thee this holy season. Have 
 we walked in darkness? Forgive us, we 
 pray. We turn to the light. We set our 
 faces toward the star. May that star, 
 which has brought light to the ages, bring 
 joy to our hearts. 
 
"Where there is no vision, the people perish." 
 — Proverbs 2Q. 18. 
 
 Vision. This word may have a physical 
 meaning. There is such a thing as a vision 
 of physical health. Theodore Roosevelt, 
 by no means a sturdy youth, caught the 
 vision and achieved bodily strength and 
 athletic prowess. Or vision may mean 
 always looking on the bright side of things. 
 To wear the dark cloud inside out is to 
 have vision. Vision may also mean a plan 
 or a program. A successful farmer said 
 to me, "I try each year to do better than 
 I did the year before; to grow a better 
 and larger crop." He had vision. But 
 we must go deeper yet if we would under- 
 stand the real meaning of the word vision. 
 It means a divine revelation. Vision is 
 something that rises before us, ungrasp- 
 able but not impractical; intangible but 
 not unreal. It is something that draws 
 out the best in us, and draws us on, always 
 on and always up. Jesus, for the vision 
 that was before him, endured the cross, 
 despised the shame, and is now set down 
 at the right hand of the throne of God. 
 Paul, lured by a vision, forgot the past 
 and pressed on toward the mark for the 
 prize of his high calling in Christ Jesus. 
 We need vision ; that sordid plans may give 
 way to loving service; that darkness and 
 doubt may flee before a full-orbed faith; 
 that death, here and there, may be crowned 
 with life. 
 
Gracious Father, who hast permitted us 
 to live in these great times, grant us strength 
 adequate to the tasks of the new day. 
 May the vision be bright before us; may 
 we not fail to follow. Give the nations of 
 the earth confidence in the world's Saviour. 
 
 103 
 
"A little child shall lead them." — Isaiah II. 6. 
 
 Christmas belongs to the children. At 
 this season presidents, legislators, judges, 
 generals, step out of the limelight, and the 
 children march in. "Happy, happy Christ- 
 mas, that can win us back to the delusions 
 of our childish days; that can recall to the 
 old man the pleasures of his youth," wrote 
 Charles Dickens. We are all glad to be 
 children at Christmas time. What strange 
 thing has power to subtract the years and 
 for a day make us children the world 
 'round? No strange thing, but the central 
 truth of history. Christmas acknowledges 
 the leadership of the Child. The entire 
 verse reads, "The wolf . . . shall dwell with 
 the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down 
 with the kid; and the calf and the young 
 lion and the fatling together; and a lit- 
 tle child shall lead them." The prophet 
 gives us a picture, figurative it may be, 
 but not wholly so, of redeemed nature. 
 I am convinced that the picture will be a 
 reality, that order will come out of chaos, 
 that hatred will give way to love, that 
 men will "beat their swords into plowshares, 
 and their spears into pruninghooks," only 
 by the leadership of the child — your child, 
 and my child, the child of America, Asia* 
 Africa, Europe — all led by the Child whose 
 birthday the world keeps, who came as 
 God's gift of love to men, and who alone 
 is able to lead us back to the Father's 
 yearning heart. 
 
 104 
 
We thank thee, our Father, that thou 
 hast set the children in our midst. For 
 their sakes do we build four walls and a 
 roof, and set the table. For their good 
 do we cheerfully maintain schools and 
 churches, cities and streets. For their joy 
 do we sacrifice and strain. For their pros- 
 perity do we plan and pray. But lo, they 
 are leading us, and in their van is the 
 Child, now our Lord and Saviour, but 
 once a child. Save us, and save the world's 
 childhood, in His name, we pray. 
 
 105 
 
"I went with them to the house of God, with 
 the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that 
 kept holy day." — Psalm 42. 4. 
 
 The multitude kept holyday, not holiday. 
 A holiday was originally a holyday. How 
 incongruous is the keeping of most of 
 our holydays. Have the days degenerated 
 or are the people to blame? By heroic 
 effort, by a nation-wide campaign we suc- 
 ceeded in rescuing the Fourth of July from 
 an insane celebration. The next and most 
 needed reform is the rescue of Christmas. 
 "Only twelve more shopping days until 
 Christmas." And so we commercialize the 
 holiest day on the calendar. "I am at my 
 wits' end; what can I get Jane and John, 
 uncle, aunt, cousin, friends?" And the 
 season which ought to be given over to 
 gladness and praise becomes a time of 
 fuss and worry. "What new thing can 
 I do to celebrate Christmas?" is the ques- 
 tion we ask; seldom, "How can I best 
 consecrate the day?" Christmas belongs to 
 Christ. It is his birthday. Alas, we have 
 made more of the day, than we have of the 
 deed it commemorates. "Unto you is born 
 this day in the city of David, a Saviour, 
 which is Christ the Lord." An angel stood 
 by. The glory of the Lord shone round 
 about. The heavenly host sang. The 
 shepherds searched out the manger-cradle. 
 The wise men worshiped. Gold, frankin- 
 cense, and myrrh they gave, not to one 
 another, not to Cassar, but to Christ. 
 
 106 
 
O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy 
 name in all the earth! Remembering our 
 friends, we would not forget thee. Lavish- 
 ing gifts upon others, we would not let 
 the season pass without a recognition of 
 the love thou hast shown us. Making 
 the day happy, we would not neglect to 
 make it helpful and holy. Though there 
 is strife in the world, we would be at peace 
 with thee. We number ourselves among 
 the multitude, that with the voice of joy 
 and praise, keep Christmas a holy day. 
 
 107 
 
"And being warned of God in a dream that 
 they should not return to Herod, they departed 
 into their own country another way." — Matthew 
 
 2. 12. 
 
 The wise men returned home another 
 way. They could not go back the way 
 they had come; they had seen something 
 that changed their path of life. Another 
 way — this is the only possible afterpath 
 of the right keeping of Christmas. If we 
 have caught the real Christmas message 
 our life cannot be the same that it was 
 before. Our thoughts will be higher, our 
 vision clearer, our hands cleaner, our life 
 more open, our spirit more generous. 
 Dickens, in his Christmas Carol, tells of 
 Scrooge, crabbed, selfish, shut-within-hirn- 
 self old fellow. He hated Christmas, he 
 hated the poor, he hated children, he hated 
 everything that had any suggestion of 
 Christmas. One Christmas Eve he had a 
 dream of the horrid man he really was; 
 he loathed himself, he longed to be back 
 in the world, he prayed for just one more 
 Christmas day that he might keep it 
 aright. He awoke with a start, he realized 
 that he had been dreaming. He leaped 
 out of bed, dressed in haste, ran out upon 
 the street, almost like a mad man, crying 
 to everyone he met, "Merry Christmas." 
 Such a day did he have! Such a life did 
 he live thereafter, it was never again the 
 same. He had caught the spirit of Christ- 
 mas. He returned another way, he lived 
 a diferent life. 
 
 108 
 
Father above, we step out into the after- 
 path of this Christmas. We pray that it 
 may be a new path, another way, a better 
 life for us. We would follow in the wake 
 of the wise men. As they found it im- 
 possible to return to the companionship 
 of the sinful Herod, may we find the evil 
 way impossible, the holy, helpful way in- 
 viting. May Immanuel lead us all this 
 year. 
 
 109 
 
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