mercies come to us so freely, so unsought. We take them too often as though we had a right to them, rather than as "favours undeserved and free." While God is leading us and training us for His service, how abundantly does He pour out upon us the bounties of His hand! How richly He supplies all our need, and does not suffer us to want any good thing! "Oh give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good, His mercy endureth for ever," may well be the pilgrimage song of every Christian. The joys and pleasures of life also should be ever remembered with gratitude and thanksgiving; and every fresh instance of His goodness be a theme for our adoration and praise. Thus may we provoke one another to love and to good works; thus may we, in all our communion, look for and expect the presence of Jesus, for He will draw near, as He has promised, and will manifest Himself to us. "I need thy presence every passing hour; What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? "Thou wilt show me the path of life: in Thy presence is fulness of joy." 44 Better Wait to Light the Candle.” A RE your letters ready, ma'am?" asked my servant. "The postman has called for the bag." "Yes," I answered, "ready in a minute. You can take these; I've one still to direct." To do this, I had to refer to a letter I had left in my own room; so I ran upstairs, and, finding I could not in the twilight distinguish among several papers that containing the required address, I struck a match, which I carried burning from the mantelpiece to the writing-table, so as not to waste time lighting a candle. But the match went out before I had found what I sought. I kindled a second, which also failed me; then another; and now, taking warning from these mishaps, I waited to light the candle: but, alas! by the time the address I wanted was found and written the post-bag was gone, and with it my last chance of despatching that evening a letter concerning which every day's delay was of consequence. "If only I had waited to light the candle at first!" I exclaimed, regretfully; but regrets were unavailing; there was no remedy but to await next day's post, and to remember for the future that the light of lucifer matches is not always to be trusted, and that, when lighting a candle is in the case, time taken is time won. And then the thought occurred to me that one would be spared many a failure, many a disappointment, in matters of greater consequence than the despatching of my letter, by "waiting to light the candle." "Haste is not speed," says the wise old proverb. "We have no time to be hurried," once remarked Dr. Nélaton, the great French surgeon; and this was the motto of his brilliantly successful career. How specially important is this principle in spiritual work! I remember my cousin Ruth coming to us in despair about a district of poor people she had been visiting for some time without making any way among them. "I've almost decided to give it up," she said; "I'm clearly not fit for such work." "What made you begin it, dear ?" asked my mother. "Well, I began it because I wanted to be doing something for Christ," she answered. "So when Mr. Hill told us from the pulpit that district visitors were wanted in the parish, I offered immediately to undertake a district, feeling certain it was a good work." "Yes, but, dear child," replied my mother, "however good in itself and necessary the work may be, it may not be work which God has appointed for you. We must be directed in His service by the light He gives through His Spirit to all who seek it, and not by the fitful light of our own impulses." Taking up her Bible, she pointed out to Ruth the words: "Receive the law from His mouth, lay up His words in thy heart. . . . and the light shall shine upon thy ways." "Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy thoughts shall be established." "It is only," she went on, "by works begun, continued, and ended in God, that we can glorify His holy name. Make a fresh beginning, my dear; He may be fitting you for this service by teaching you your own insufficiency: take a few days for waiting on Him to make known to you His will in the matter.” Ruth followed my mother's counsel, the result being that her work among the poor was continued, and with much blessing, in due time, to visitor and visited; but how nearly, I said to myself, had the blessing been lost by Ruth's mistake at first in not "waiting to light the candle." Scripture teaches us by example as forcibly as by precept the importance of waiting-time as a preparation for the fulfilling of God's designs. Even as His material temple was "built of stone made ready before it was brought thither," so with His spiritual temple "built on the foundation of prophets and apostles," do we not see Divine purposes, of infinite importance, waiting on the desert training of Moses, of John the Baptist, of St. Paul? And not more truly in work for God than in the receiving of His promised mercies the blessing is in waiting till we hear Him say, "All things are now ready." "An inheritance may be gotten hastily," says the wise man ; "but the end thereof shall not be blessed." Such waiting-time is often a time of darkness. What child of God does not know it, and has not been tempted, when "neither sun nor stars have for many days appeared," and God has seemed to forget his weary waiting, to "kindle a fire for himself, and compass himself with sparks ?"-to snatch at some passing light which, not having its source in God, can only lead to our "lying down in darkness ?" In such hours of temptation there is but one safeguard: let us trust in the Lord, and stay upon our God. He that believes shall not make haste, but, like Abraham, will steadfastly refuse to exchange his expectations in God for any treasures of Sodom. "After these things," we read, after His servant's practical and noble confession of faith, "the word of the Lord came unto Abram, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, thy exceeding great reward;" and He who thus honoured Abraham's faith will honour ours; in due time we shall find that our darkness was no darkness with Him; that while we have hoped and quietly waited for the salvation of God, He has been making all things work together for the "lighting of our candle;" in due time we shall reap, if we faint not, the light that is sown for the righteous, the joyful gladness prepared for such as are true-hearted. "Equal with God, yet made Himself YES, Thou didst die for me, O Son of God! YES By Thee the throbbing flesh of man was worn; Thy naked feet the thorns of sorrow trod, And tempests beat Thy houseless head forlorn. Alone, on God's right hand, Before the ages were, the Eternal, eldest born. Thy birthright in the world was pain and grief; In peace tongue cannot tell, Nor heart conceive the bliss of Thy celestial state. They dragged Thee to the Roman's solemn hall, Thou stoodst a meek and patient criminal, In final ruin hurled, With all mankind to hear their everlasting fate. Thou wert alone in that fierce multitude, When "Crucify Him!" yelled the general shout; No hand to guard Thee 'mid those insults rude, Nor lip to bless in all that frantic rout; Whose lightest whispered word The Seraphim had heard, And adamantine arms from all the heavens broke out. They bound Thy temples with the twisted thorn, Was the unapproached light, The sandal of whose foot the rapid hurricane. They smote Thy cheek with many a ruthless palm; They gave, t' enhance Thy unslaked, burning thirst; Did pain and anguish cease, And the long-buried dead their bonds of slumber burst. Low bowed Thy head convulsed, and, drooped in death, Thy voice sent forth a sad and wailing cry; Slow struggled from Thy breast the parting breath, And every limb was wrung with agony. That head, whose veilless blaze Filled angels with amaze, When at that voice sprang forth the rolling suns on high. And Thou wert laid within the narrow tomb, Thy clay-cold limbs with shrouding grave-clothes bound; The sealed stone confirmed Thy mortal doom, Lone watchmen walked Thy desert burial-ground; Whom heaven could not contain, Nor th' immeasurable plain Of vast infinity enclose or circle round. For us, for us, Thou didst endure the pain, And Thy meek spirit bowed itself to shame, By saving worlds from sin, Nor aught of glory add to Thy all-glorious name. |