The gate beautiful

Front matter

Jft®««M>

Pass , BV 4.

Book a.1 A 5 5

CHAPTER SECOND €^e Call to praise

HERE are in the Bible many more calls to praise than to prayer. Prayer is continually urged. It is essential. It is the Christian's vital breath. The man who does not pray cuts himself off from the source of all good. A day without prayer is a day without protection, a day of peril. Prayer is essential. Yet praise would seem to be no less a duty than prayer. Everything that hath breath is commanded to praise God, and not only things animate, but things inanimate — " all deeps, fire and hail, snow and vapor; stormy wind, mountains and all hills; fruitful trees and all cedars." The poet in one of the Psalms calls upon all that is within him to praise God's name. He thinks of the powers and capacities of his nature and would have them all

C^e (Bate I3eaiittfttl waked up to join in the song. He exhorts himself also not to forget God's benefits. What are some of these?

" Who forgiveth all thine iniquities ; Who healeth all thy diseases ; Who redeemeth thy life from destruction ; Who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies "

These are only a few of God's benefits. They are coming to us continually. Nothing but good ever comes to us. It would seem that there never could be anything but praise in our hearts. Yet listen on any day, the fairest day of the year, the day when the sun shines the brightest and the skies are bluest, to the complainings, the murmurings, of the people you meet. It seems that almost nothing goes well with them. The habit of discontent has grown so strong in them that they are never quite pleased or satisfied with anything. In the most perfect circumstances they always find some flaws. In the most lovely character they discover some lack or blemish. The

C^e Call to pvai$t trouble really is, however, in the persons themselves who complain and not in the providence that blesses their lives. If they were in heaven, and had the same dispositions they now have, they would find something even there to fret them or irk them and would not be altogether happy. What such people need is not more agreeable circumstances, all things different to suit their tastes and whims, but a new heart, being born again with a contented mind, a praising, thanksgiving spirit. The fact is, there are a thousand beautiful things in any outlook on life we may have, to one unpleasant thing. We should be able easily to forget the one little thorn in such a mass of roses. " Forget not all his benefits," the lesson runs, but this is the very thing we do — we forget God's wonderful mercies, the countless blessings that flood our days with sunshine and strew our nights with stars. An hour's pain, even a moment's twinge of suffering, blots out the memory of a whole year of best health.

There is a legend of two angels that come from heaven every morning and go on their rounds all day long. One is the angel of prayers ; the other the angel of thanksgivings. Each carries a great basket. Soon the angel of requests has his basket filled to overflowing. Everybody pours into it great handfuls of requests. But when the day is ended the angel of thanksgivings has only two or three little contributions of gratitude in his basket.

This is not a caricature. Most of us do more or less praying, but it is nearly all the unloading of burdens, fears, wants, and clamorous requests for favors, with only here and there a feeble word of thanks for blessings received. Some ingenious gatherer of statistics tells us that during a recent year thousands of letters from children, addressed to Santa Claus, reached the Dead Letter Office before Christmas, but that in the whole month after Christmas only one letter came addressed to Santa Claus, with a message of thanks. Ten lepers were cleansed, all receives ]

€^e Call to $ratee ing the same great blessing, but only one of the ten returned to thank the Healer. Where were the nine?

We must confess that we are pitifully wanting in gratitude. Thanksgivings languish on our lips. Some of us do little but complain. Nothing altogether pleases us. We have no eyes for the good things of divine love which really flood our lives. We ought to pray for a power of vision that will enable us to behold the beauties of this world, for a love that will show us the noble and worthy qualities in the people about us, and a faith that will help us to believe in the divine goodness in the events which seem to be most unkindly.

The praising spirit is essential in him who would do his best work in any line of life. It is said that Leonardo da Vinci held a lyre in his hand while he painted. Music inspired his art. This was one of the secrets of his superb work as an artist — his heart was glad and praising. No one can do good work with a sad heart. You need not go with a grieving

[23] '

C^e d&ate I3eautiful spirit to comfort one who is in trouble, for you can help him only with cheer. If you are in sorrow, another's grief will not comfort you. He who would come to you as an uplifter, must have joy to bring to you. " The joy of the Lord is your strength," said Nehemiah to his people when he found them weeping, and exhorted them to a better life. They must dry their tears if they would attain anything noble and beautiful. It is always so. No life ever reached its best possibilities in sadness. The men who have done the noblest and worthiest things, who have achieved the most, whose work shines as beautiful and radiant in the world, carried a harp in their hands. They sang at their work. Pessimism has never done any lovely things ; only he who works with a song adds to the brightness and beauty of the world. Gloomy people are perverting their powers, growing thorns instead of roses. The joyless man is a misanthrope. He makes it harder for other people to live, makes them less strong to bear their burdens. He chills the

%X)t Call to pvai$z ardor he ought to kindle to a redder glow. He is a discourager and thus a hinderer of every man he meets. t

On the other hand, he who sings as he works is a blessing to every man. He does better work himself, paints more beautiful pictures, sings sweeter songs, is a better teacher, a better lawyer, a better merchant, an infinitely better physician. No man should ever go into a sick room as a doctor who has not music in his heart. No man is ever fit to be a preacher who is not a joyous man, a praising man. Carlyle has a strong word on the value of singing at one's work : " Give us, oh, give us the man who sings at his work ! Be his occupation what it may, he is equal to any of those who follow the same pursuit in silent sullenness. He will do more in the same time — he will do it better — he will persevere longer. One is scarcely sensible to fatigue whilst he marches to music. The very stars are said to make harmony as they revolve in their spheres. Wondrous is the strength of cheerfulness ; altogether past calculation are

C^e (Batt iBtautiful its powers of endurance. Efforts to be permanently useful, must be uniformly joyous — a spirit all sunshine — graceful from very gladness — beautiful because bright." Joy is a splendid inspirer.

The emblem of Christian life is light, and light means joy, praise. There used to be people who thought that solemnity was an essential quality of religion. The man who smiled on Sunday desecrated the holy day. He who was glad-hearted in worship lacked reverence. There are some persons who would banish flowers from churches. But there is really no piety in long-facedness. Indeed one of the first things required in Christian life is joy. It is named as second among the fruits of the Spirit. Jesus said he would have his joy fulfilled in his followers. If you would become a beautiful Christian, you must be a joyous Christian. Joy is always lovely. It shines. It is fragrant. It makes the air brighter and sweeter. It is a wondrous inspirer of life. You can do twice as much work when you are glad and praising as when you c^e Call to pratee are gloomy and downcast; and you can do it twice as well.

The other day a Christian woman told of starting out sad and heavy-hearted in the morning, with no song, no praise, not a thought of gladness in her heart. Everything dragged. There seemed nothing worth living for. Circumstances were distressing. There appeared only blackness before her eyes. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, something happened which changed all the outlook. Light broke in upon the gloom. The friend said that if an angel of God had come into the dreadful tangle with light and song the effect could not have been more marvelous. It was joy that came, and the joy changed everything. The life was saved from despair. The clouds and shadows rolled away and the blue sky hung everywhere. The same miracle-story is told in a little poem from one of the magazines :

" Going up the hill, I found it long. Until I met a merry song

That kissed mine eyes to blind me. [27]

It mocked at me, and turned and fled, Bat played on, fluttering overhead, Till I forgot I went footsore, And the dusty hill that rose before Was the blue hill far behind me. 7 '

A writer tells of a boy who was sunny and brave. He met the ills of life, which too many people regard as almost tragedies, with courage. Nothing ever daunted him. Where most boys are afraid or break into tears, he was undismayed and untroubled. But one day something serious happened. He and a playmate climbed a tree. Just when our little philosopher had reached the top, his foot slipped and he fell to the ground. He lay there, evidently hurt, but uttered no cry. It was the playmate that screamed. The doctor found the leg badly broken. The boy bore the setting patiently without a whimper. The mother slipped out of the room to hide her own tears — she couldn't stand it as well as her boy did. Outside the door she heard a faint sound and hurried back, almost hoping to find him crying.

C^e Call to ptai$z

" My boy ! " she said, " do you want something? I thought I heard you call." " Oh, no, mother," he said, " I didn't call. I just thought I'd try singing a bit." And he went on with the song.

When you have pain, or struggle, or a heavy load, or a great anguish, don't complain, don't cry out, don't sink down in despair, don't be afraid — try singing a bit. Trust God and praise.

€^e ?£e0fre$ of C^t f *att

"Cast out all envy, bitterness and hate; And keep the mind's fair tabernacle pure. Shake hands with Pain, give greeting unto Grief , Those angels in disguise, and thy glad soul From height to height, from star to shining star, Shall climb and claim blest immortality."

CHAPTER THIRD €^e %>t$ixz$ of €1)? ^eatt

HE test of one's character is in the things one delights in. Hence also one's desires are prophetic of one's future. We will grow into that which we long for. In one of the Psalms we read, " Delight thyself in the Lord ; and he will give thee the desires of thy heart." Most of us would like to have this promise for ourselves. In the Arabian Nights' Entertainment is the strange story of Aladdin's lamp. The son of a poor widow in China became possessed of a magic lamp and ring, which commanded the services of certain powerful genii. By rubbing the lamp with the ring, Aladdin got whatever he wished, and grew rich and great. But that is only an impossible story of magic. Yet here is a promise which seems to tell us of a way in which we can get everything we wish.

[ ss ]

€^e (Bait OBeautfful

" Delight thyself also in the Lord ; and he will give thee the desires of thy heart." It is not by rubbing a ring on a lamp that we can get what we desire. Religion is not magic. Simon Magus thought it was, and tried to buy the secret for money. But it is not thus that desires for life's good things can be gratified. We all have wants which it would please us beyond measure to have supplied. It would mean a great deal to us to know a way in which we could have all our desires realized. And that is what we seem to have here. " Delight thyself also in the Lord ; and he will give thee the desires of thy heart." What is it to delight ourselves in the Lord? It means to love God, to love to please him, to love his ways, his service, his will. We know what it is to delight ourselves in a human friend. We love our friend so much that when we are with him we are perfectly happy, have no wish ungratified, need nothing else to complete our contentment. This is the ideal in marriage — that the two who wed shall delight in each other. They should meet each other's desires and yearnings. They should be one in interest, in purpose, in all the aims of life. A young woman, considering the question of marriage and speaking of the young man she had in mind, writes : " I love him very dearly, and yet I hesitate to give my life into his keeping. He is noble, kind, worthy, but in some respects he is far from being the man I always had in mind in thinking of marriage. There is something lacking in him. There is a need in my life which is not fully met in him — perfect union in consecration to God." Evidently there is not yet full, undisturbed delight in this friend. There is not full accord, there is not perfect confidence, there is not absolute trust. All these elements are essential in perfect delight in a friend. To delight in God implies also all the qualities of love, trust, confidence, accord of will. Connected with this promise in the Psalm is a cluster of counsels which belong together — " Trust in the Lord," " Delight thyself also in the Lord," " Commit thy way unto the

Lord," " Rest in the Lord." You cannot delight yourself in the Lord if you do not trust him. Trust implies confidence. John leaned upon his Master's breast that dark night of the betrayal. The distress of the disciples was terrible. It looked as if all their hopes had fallen into ruin. Yet behold John leaning on the Master's bosom, calm, quiet, unafraid. Jesus sought to quiet his disciples that same hour with the words, " Let not your heart be troubled ; believe in God, believe also in me." They were to trust without question, without doubt, without fear. Trust is necessary to delight. " Commit thy way unto the Lord." There will come hours of uncertainty in every life, hours when we shall not know what to do, which way to take, where to find help. Then we learn that the Lord is not only our Saviour from sin, but also the God who orders all our ways. There seem to be a great many people who trust God for the salvation of their souls, but who have not learned to trust him with the choosing of their ways,

€^e l®z$in$ of %ty f eat*

the direction of their affairs, the care of their lives. They worry continually. We have not learned the full meaning of trust until we have formed the habit of committing our ways without question unto the Lord. The reason for worrying, which is so common a habit, is that people do not roll their way upon the Lord. If only they knew the blessed secret they would not worry any more. Think what it would mean to worrying people if they understood this, if instead of being anxious about every little thing, they would take it to the Lord and leave it there. If we commit our,way unto the Lord, we will not go on making blunders, we will no longer spoil the web by ignoring the pattern and weaving our own way.

Another of the words of trust in the old Psalm is, " Rest in the Lord." A marginal reading is, " Be silent to the Lord." Never answer the Lord in the way of protest against his guidance, never question the wisdom and goodness of his providence. Never in the day of cross-bearing or trial ask,

C^e dftite Beautiful

" Why? " Some of us are not silent to God when he does things that are hard, when he leads us in the ways that are rough and steep. To be silent to the Lord means complete submission to his will, without question, without doubt, without fear. " I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because thou didst it."

These are suggestions of the meaning of the words, " Delight thyself also in the Lord." We are to be at home with God. The ideal home is a place of perfect love, perfect accord, perfect confidence. There is no strife, no doubt, no fear, no bitterness. Men are telling us these days that we should get and keep our lives in tune with God. This means that we should fall in line with God in everything. We are not to demand that God shall bring his way down to suit our whims and fancies ; but rather that we shall always bring our feelings, our desires, our ambitions, into harmony with his will.

The lesson is not easy. A good man said the other day, " It takes a long time to learn to

C^e ^egfreg of C^t §tavt

be kind." It takes so long, indeed, that not many persons really ever learn it. There are not many kind people — that is, people who are always kind to everyone, to disagreeable people as well as those who are agreeable, to enemies as well as friends, to bad as well as good — and that is what the New Testament means when it tells us to be kind. It takes a great while to learn to be kind. The same is true of every phase of the will of God. It takes a great while to learn to be patient, to learn to be absolutely true, to learn to trust God, to be rejoicing followers of Christ, to be helpers of others. Nevertheless, these are the lessons that are set for us and which we are to learn. It will take all our life to learn them w r ell, but really to learn these lessons is better than all riches, all power, all fame.

This is what it is to delight ourselves in God, to find our joy in him. The promise is that if we have this delight in him, God will give us the desires of our heart, the things we long for. This may seem rather an unusual promise, but it is really given over and over again in the Bible. The Lord said to Solomon, as he began his reign, " Ask what I shall give thee." Anything Solomon would choose for his life portion, God said he would give him. In the New Testament, we have this from the Master himself : " Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you ; for every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth ; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened." Could any promise of God be fuller, more unreserved, more absolute?

We must remember that one condition is, " Delight in the Lord." You love God supremely. You have committed your way to him without doubt or question. You are trusting him without fear. You are being silent to him, accepting his will for you without a murmur of insubmission, never asking why or how. This attitude of mind and heart will make all your desires holy. It will silence in your heart all unworthy wishes. It will quell

C^e ^egires of %$y l$zatt

all sinful longings. You will not long for evil things, or for worldly things. You will seek God's guidance in all desires for earthly things. It is not always the things we want that we ought to desire — the things we want might work our ruin if we had them. We ought to desire the things that will bless us in our inner life, and make us beautiful and Christlike. We cannot ourselves be sure as to the wisdom of our desires and therefore w T e must refer them to the will of God. When the promise is given that God will give us the desires of our heart, it is implied that these desires will be such as God approves. Desires turned toward God are prayers. Some people suppose that they are praying only when they are on their knees, or speaking to God in some reverent attitude of devotion. But many of the most real and most acceptable prayers are never voiced in words. They are only breathings of the soul, longings of the heart, yearnings and aspirations which cannot be put into language. One of the Lord's Beatitudes was for those who have

C^e <&att OBeauttfwl longings in their hearts, " Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.' 5 Hungerings and thirstings after God, desires to be better, longings for more holiness, wishes for closer communion with God, are prayers which God promises to answer. Hunger is a mark of health. Not to hunger any more indicates illness. It is so in the body, it is so in the mind, it is so in the soul. The true spiritual life is full of longings.

We should remember, too, that whether we will or not, the things we desire are really given to us. We get them into our life, and they make us what we are. It is so of pure and good desires.

" The thing we long for, that we are, For one transcendent moment."

A holy longing makes us holy. Longing for Christ brings us into Christ's presence and fills us with his spirit, his love. Longing for righteousness makes us righteous. But the same is true also of evil desires. If we let

C^e ?E>e0treg of C^t ^tatt

sinful wishes into our mind and cherish them, we will grow corrupt in heart. " As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he." If you, by day and by night, cherish wrong desires, impure feelings, unholy imaginings, you will get your desires, and your life will rot. Let wrong, lustful desires stay in your mind, and you will soon be, in the sight of angels, a mass of corruption and death. We should keep a double watch upon our thoughts and desires, for they are making us the man or woman we shall be by and by. Keep your thoughts clean and white and they will build up in you a temple of snowy purity. Keep your desires fixed upon holy things, right things, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, then you will have the desires of your hearts — God will give them unto you — and they will build up your life into beauty and holiness.

The great need for us, therefore, is that we cultivate our desires into holiness and Christlikeness. What are the dominant desires in your heart to-day ? What are you living for ?

What are your most earnest wishes? When you are alone, and your mind is free, where do your thoughts turn? If the Lord came to you in a vision, as he came to Solomon at Gibeon, and said, " Ask what I shall give you, what I shall do for you," what would your answer be? If you delight yourself in the Lord, then he will give you what you desire.

This is a thousand times better than Aladdin's lamp. Abide in Christ, let Christ's words abide in you, and no desire of yours will remain unsatisfied. That will be happiness. All life will then be a song — fullness of good here, eternal blessing in heaven.

Called to "Be faints

"Never in a costly palace did I rest on golden bed, Never in a hermit's cavern have I eaten idle bread.

"Born within a lowly stable, where the cattle round me stood Trained a carpenter in Nazareth, I have toiled and found it good.

" They who tread the path of labor follow where my feet have trod ; They who work without complaining do the holy will of God.

"Where the many toil together, there am I among my own ; Where the tired workman sleepeth, there am I with him alone.

"I, the peace that passeth knowledge, dwell amid the daily strife, I, the bread of heaven, am broken in the sacrament of life."

Chapter Fourth

N the Roman Catholic Church the act of canonization is the enrollment of beatified persons among the saints. It cannot take place till more than fifty years after the persons have died, except in the case of martyrs, nor until the most searching investigations have been made into their life and character. In the New Testament, however, the word saints is used of living believers. The meaning is not that the Christians of those early days were perfect. They were faulty, incomplete in life and character, just as Christians are in every age. All who love and follow Christ are called to be saints. The form of Christian life changes from time to time. The type that stands in highest honor in these days is the strenuous. Activity is the word. People who do things are the people who count, not only in business and in all secular lines, but also in religion. It is not the saint of the closet, the devout man who spends hours at his devotions, in pious meditations, in secret prayer. The man w T ho is commended to-day as the greatest Christian is the man who is always abounding in the work of the Lord. The best Christian life is the one devoted to service of love. We say we are saved to serve. We say our mission is to carry the gospel to every man, to make disciples of all the nations. We are to go about doing good. Richard Burton writes of The Modern Saint :

No monkish garb he wears, no beads he tells, Nor is immured in walls remote jrom strife ;

But jrom his heart deep mercy ever wells ; He looks humanely forth on human life.

He looks not holy, simple is his belief ;

His creed for mystic visions do not scan ; His face shows lines cut there by other's grief

And in his eyes is love of brother-man. [48]

Callen to TBe faints

Not self nor self-salvation is his care ;

He yearns to make the world a sunnier clime To live in, and his mission everywhere

Is strangely like to Christ's in olden time.

Dr. James Denney says, in speaking of the Life of Christ as it appears in the Gospels: " The only Person whom the New Testament calls the Saint of God lived in the fields and in the streets, mingling in the common life of man at the common level; and what strikes us most as we contemplate Him is not a monotonous and conventionally expressed sanctity, however deeply felt, but the spontaneity, the liberty, the unexpectedness, and yet the thorough naturalness of such a life."

One of the great present-day words of saintliness is Brotherhood. It is not a hard word to pronounce — it is rather musical. It is coming to be a fashionable word among Christian people. Orators like to use it — it is an inspiring word. It is something we ought to practice. Men are talking in these

C^e dffate istmtiful days about practicing the presence of God, living every moment as if they saw God beside them. A little book has been published on the practice of immortality, thinking of the little common days as segments of eternity, of eternal life, as if we really believe we shall live forever. Some one writes also of practicing the Incarnation. The Incarnation was God coming down and living in human flesh, the highest, the most divine, coming down to help the lowest. We open the New Testament and we see the Eternal God comforting a sorrowing mother, taking a cooing baby in his arms, looking into its deep eyes, and laying his hand on its head; we see the infinite God curing a blind man by putting clay on his eyes, healing a lame man by a touch or by a word. This is very beautiful, very wonderful. Now practice the Incarnation in your own life. That is what the law of love requires. The angels must look upon manifestations of love in self-denial and service as finer than the finest displays of eloquence or skill. An act of love,