Light on the cloud ...

Front matter

I

J# f i__

.0*1 ■

Preface

IV TEARLY all the matter of this little volume has been in print before. Some of it has been copied many times, and circulated widely. Parts of it have been called for from California and the Mississippi to Maine. From many sources the advice has come, to put it into permanent form. It is now sent forth with no pretension, and making no claims. It indeed aspires to the sacred work of comfort, but only by hints and whispers that would " let Grief be her own mistress still." The author despises perfunctory or official sympathy. He would simply sit down by the side of those whom the cloud overhangs, and by a pressure of the hand, or a word from the heart, help them believe in the light that is above the clouds and

Preface,

stronger than they. He would not claim to prove all he has suggested. One may hope the sweetest and best things, if only his hope be rational.

As for the verses, if any one thinks they are not worthy to be called poetry, let them be named whatever they may.

The "parts " of the book can be read continuously ; or the paragraphs may be taken at random, and without regard to order.

The book contains nothing sectarian. 8

Contents

PAGE

RESIGNATION 19

Part First. The Mystery Of Affliction

I. Why do we suffer? 21

II. Present Ignorance 23

III. The End of Life 25

IV. Lost Blessings not all lost 28

V. How Finish comes 29

VI. But why me? 31

VII. No Life incomplete 33

VIII. Two Sides of Dying 35

IX. These Hints only a Staff 37

MYSTERY 3S

THE PESCADERO PEBBLES 40

Contents.

Part Second. The Ministry Of Affliction

PAGE

I. Good out of Evil 42

II. Character born of Sorrow 43

III. Affliction may help or harm 45

IV. Trouble develops Sympathy 46

V. Tears cleanse the Vision 48

VI. The true End of Life 49

VII. Life a School 50

VIII. A Parable of Growth 51

IX. Affliction lifts up the Life 52

X. Affliction teaches a Noble Discontent. 54

XI. Affliction tests and gives Assurance . 56

HE GIVETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP .... 59

PEACE 61

Part Third. The Divine Alchemy

I. Can Hard Things be "for Good"?

II. Is a Broken Home " for Good " ? .

III. Is Loss of Property " for Good " ?

IV. Is Lost Health "for Good"? .

V. The Problem a dark one. . .

VI. God no God, if not good . . .

VII. What is our "Good"?. . . .

VIII. The Condition of the Promise

IX. Who are " them that love God " ?

64 66

67 63 69 70 72 73

Co7itents.

PAGE

X. Like Causes produce Opposite Results . 74

XL Evil may "work for Good" ..... 75

XII. Apples get sweet only when ripe . . . 76

LIFE IN DEATH 78

THE DEAD ACORN 80

Part Fourth. Death A Blessing

I. Hard to believe in Death 82

II. Different Thoughts of Death . ... 83

III. Death is Nothing 85

. IV. Death not a Curse 86

V. Deati: not the Result of Sin 86

VI. Death the Condition of Life 88

VII. Death merely a Change of Residence . 89

VIII. Endless Earth-Life a Curse 91

IX. Death the Condition of Higher Life . 95

X. Death the Way to Permanent Unions . 97

GOING TO SLEEP 101

LIFE FROM DEATH 103

Part Fifth. Willing To Live

I. Willing to die, or to live ? 104

II. Easy to be willing to die 104

III. Willing to live on Condition .... 106

Contents.

PAGE

IV. Hard Things of Life 108

V. Mystery makes it hard 109

VI. Unsatisfied Loves in

VII. Life's Burdens 113

VIII. Losses make us unreconciled to Life. . 115

IX. Life is worth living 116

X. Trust reconciles to Life 116

XI. Content with each* Step as a Step . .121

XII. Success consistent with Loss 122

AT TWILIGHT TIME 125

MEMORY 127

XL

XII. The Pleasant Way

Religion has been Gloomy ....

Man naturally seeks Happiness . .

An Unhappy Universe a Failure .

Pleasure is Life, and Pain is Death Happiness essential to Best Work .

This the Root of Civilization . .

Our Right to Happiness limited. .

Health a Condition of Happiness .

Appreciation of Common Things . "!

N'oble Happiness in Noble Things .

The Noble Things endure ....

GOD MADE OUR LIVES TO BE A SONG HOPE *

129 130 132 132

134 136

150 152

Conte?its.

Part Seventh. Heaven

PAGE

I. Where is Heaven ? 1 54

II. Most Reasonable Thought of Heaven . 159

III. This Idea gives Room 160

IV. Analogy supports it 161

V. The Material Universe still ours . . . 162

VI. What is Heaven? 162

VII. Heaven is Harmony 163

VIII. Heaven is Satisfaction 164

IX. Heaven is Expansion 166

X. Heaven is Progress 168

XI. Terms of Admission 170

PROGRESS 172

LIGHT ON THE CLOUD.

LIGHT ON THE CLOUD.

THERE'S never an always cloudless sky, There's never a vale so fair, But over it sometimes shadows lie In a chill and songless air.

But never a cloud o'erhung the day,

And flung its shadows down, But on its heaven-side gleamed some ray,

Forming a sunshine crown.

It is dark on only the downward side :

Though rage the tempest loud, And scatter its terrors far and wide,

There's light upon the cloud.

And often, when it traileth low,

Shutting the landscape out, And only the chilly east-winds blow

From the foggy seas of doubt,

Light on the Cloud.

There'll come a time, near the setting sun, When the joys of life seem few:

A rift will break in the evening dun, And the golden light stream through.

And the soul a glorious bridge will make

Out of the golden bars, And all its priceless treasures take

Where shine the eternal stars.

RESIGNATION.

MY Father, thou art strong. Nought can withstand The might of thy right arm ; and yet I bleed, Blown on and broken like a weakly reed, Whilst thou couldst stay the tempest with thy hand.

My Father, thou art wise. The universe

Thou readest simply, as I read a book ; Thou knowest what is best, and yet dost look

Unmoved on what my sad heart calls a curse.

My Father, thou art loving. My full heart,

That breaks with love, is but a little urn, Filled at thine infinite fountain ; yet I yearn

O'er sundered lives thou sufferest torn apart.

'Tis mystery all, O Father ! Love and might

And wisdom in their triple strength seem vain : The blessed God looks down upon my pain,

While I grope onward through the stumbling night.

Light on the Cloud.

But that he does not help shall be my hope ;

He might prevent ; he's wise, and he is love: Then there is meaning in it, and 'twill prove,

That, where I may not see, 'tis best to grope.

We lead our children by dark ways. We tell

Them they must trust us, though they cannot

see.

For never boy knew manhood, or could be

Persuaded that the tasks of youth were well.

And yet from lessons learned, and tasks well done, Is born the noble life and happy days : No runner ever yet was crowned with bays,

Who faltered when the strife had just begun.

Then learn we resignation and firm trust :

Some line of purpose still our life runs through. God's days are many, and our sorrows few ;

And joy shall blossom yet from out the dust.

Part First. The Mystery Of Affliction

I.— WHY DO WE SUFFER?

JOB is sitting in the ashes. Property is gone. Sons are gone. Daughters are gone. Friends come not nigh. The persons he has saved from injustice, and helped in their poverty, have deserted his hour of calamity. But, though children come not back, perhaps he may retrieve his earthly fortunes by skill and management in his affairs. No, all hope of this is cut off; for he is cursed with a disease that precludes labor, or dealing with his fellow-men. Now, if ever, is the time to doubt if there is any God ; or, if there is, that he is just ; much more, that he is merciful and kind. Job's wife is decidedly of this opinion ; for she urges him to give up his nonsensical trust, to " curse God, and die." And surely she had the logic on her side, so far as men could see. That didn't look like the way a father would treat a child. And certainly it seemed a little unreasonable, in the face of such

Light 011 the Cloud.

disaster, to look up, and say, "Our Father who is in heaven."

But Job saw another side of the case. " God has given me good. I trusted him then ; for he proved himself kind. Now shall I renounce him because I cannot understand how my present condition can be consistent with that goodness ? No ! I'll wait and see." That is the attitude of faith, — just the same kind of faith you exercise in the character of a tried friend. Something comes up that seems to impugn his trustworthiness ; and you say, " No ! That don't seem like him. There maybe some explanation. I'll wait and see. I won't believe it of him till I have to."

Here stood Job. Here let us stand. His words — " Have I received good, and shall I not receive evil?" — do not explain a thing. It is all dark as ever. It is only a voice in the dark that says, " I cannot see the way of God ; but I will not call it wrong until I can see."

This life is walked under a cloud. We came out of shadow ; we go into shadow. What it all means no mortal has yet discovered. But we hear a voice out of the cloud, saying to us, " What I do, thou knowest not now ; but thou shalt know hereafter." For the sunrise of the hereafter, then, we must wait ; but, meantime, there come to us some few faint gleams of dawn. Their dim twilight is just enough to help our faith, and to make us look more hopefully for the morning.

The Mystery of Affliction.

To the question, " Why do we suffer ? " several answers the world has offered. The first one is that of Job's friends ; and it has been echoed ever since : " You are worse than others, and are being punished." Christ, both by his words and by his cross, on which he the Perfect groaned and died, has authorized us to deny this. Not that God does not punish for sin, but only that the fact that we suffer is no proof of our sin. Another answer is a denial of Providence, and a reference of all things to unyielding law. This, pushed too far, takes away our God. God is a Providence ; and law is wielded by love.

But the question comes back, " Why suffer, then, if the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ be God ? He is wise, and knows what is best. He is strong, and can do his will. He is loving, and wishes us no harm. Why, then, pain and loss and weeping ? " Just this is the cloud. It does obscure the sun : let us not deny this. But it has rifts and chinks in it, and the rays drop through. At these rays let us look, and see what hints they can give us of the light that is above.

II. — PRESENT IGNORANCE.

It may be necessary in the nature of things, and needful for our highest culture, that we should not know now.

Present ignorance of many of life's problems is natural and necessary. Our earthly existence is a state of tutelage and training. All things can be understood only by the Infinite. Every step of progress is simply the solution of a new problem. Like the schoolboy's advance from simple addition to cube root, it is the mastery of a new principle, the workingout of one more difficulty.

God does not make us walk in darkness for the mere purpose of perplexing us, or to assert his sovereign right to do as he pleases with us. Many of these things we have not yet grown to, and cannot comprehend. Why it is better for a boy to be put to a hard trade, or set to learning the dry formulas of grammar, rather than to be permitted to play through all the long days in the sunshine, is a question that I presume has never yet been made clear to the boyish mind. And it is not parental tyranny nor wilfulness that keeps it a mystery. The boy cannot understand it ; for he cannot comprehend the relation of the trade or the grammar to the successes or failures of a life that lies all untried and unknown before him. Present ignorance is needful to the development in us of some of the highest graces of character.

If a child should say about father or mother, " I'll believe in them just so far as I can keep my eye on facts, and no farther," you would say, " Either those are very unworthy parents, or that is a very unworthy child." If parents are not worth trusting in the dark, they are not worth having any way. This filial trust is one of the loveliest traits of character.

And it is none the less lovely when brought into the 24

The Mystery of Affliction.

sphere of religion, and exercised towards God. If we have not a God worthy of trusting in the dark, we have not one worth keeping. If we have, then let us honor him. as did Paul and Silas, who sent up songs winged with light, and warbling toward heaven, out of stocks, and a dungeon in the dark.

As the arm stows strong onlv bv work, as the memory increases only when made to carry weights, as the eye can see only in the light, so faith has a chance to develop only in darkness and trial. There is no room for faith in the daylight. Anybody can trust, then. Do not even the atheists so ? But he who, on the darkness of the tempest-tossed waters, can trust Him who stilleth the storm, he, and he only, can claim to -walk by faith."

III. — THE END OF LIFE.

Not what we can get or enjoy, but moral culture is the true end of life.

Men ask, What have you got? what do you know? what can you do ? God asks, What are you ? On the answer to that question hangs our destiny. Then all things, all incidents, all gettings, all losses of this life, should be measured by their outcome, the resultant effect on our character. A possession is good, if it makes us generous, if, in the use of it, we develop all those right faculties that pertain to its handling. But if not, woe to the day on which the windfall came. Whether it shall prove to~ us a godsend or a curse

Light on the Cloud.

depends entirely upon our use of it. A loss may be a good, if, through its means, we develop those graces that come from the patient endurance of life's hard and heavy things.

In either case, we are not to estimate them by what they are in themselves. This is but a superficial and, therefore, a false view to take. What they make of us is what determines their value. One of the first times I ever preached without notes, a friend said to me, " One disadvantage is, that you haven't got the sermon, now it is preached." " Yes," I said ; " but I've got the practice of going without it."

A botanist makes a fine collection of leaves and flowers and grasses. When done, the fire takes it. But the best part, the drill and practice and knowledge acquired in making the collection, — these are left; and they are worth more than a dozen collections. The practice and study of collecting makes one a botanist ; but one might own the collection forever, and know nothing about it.

A painter, by long years of work, becomes skilled in eye and finger and judgment and imagination. At the age of fifty he sells all his pictures to some one rich enough to buy them. He has left only eye and finger, and judgment and imagination, and the skill of all these ; but these are as much superior to one of his pictures as God is to the earth he has made. He is an artist ; but the man who fills his home with his paintings may be only a clown. What he becomes in 26

The Mystery of Affliction.

his work is worth more than all he produces, or what he gets paid for it. You can buy pictures ; but you cannot buy genius and skill.

Let us apply this principle to life. You have a home, husband, wife, children, property. These are partly for themselves, but in a sense quite as important they are for the sake of what their effect may be on us in our training. That is, this life is not wholly an end in itself : it has reference to a future ; and one of the most important elements in its value is its power to fit us for that future. Now, in the companionship, the joys and trials of this home, you have been developing in love and patience and unselfishness and care and helpfulness. By and by the home is broken; but if you be grown thus godlike through the ministries of home, you have gained something worth more than the temporal conditions, something fitting you for the eternal home. The ear is worth more than a song, the sense of smell is worth more than a flower, the eye is worth more than a landscape, and so love is worth more than any one thing or person loved ; and particularly does this appear when we reflect, that, through the loss of the objects of our love, we are being trained into fitness to have and hold them forever.

" God gives us love ; something to love He lends us ; but when love has grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone." 27

Light on the Cloud.

IV. —LOST BLESSINGS NOT ALL LOST.

And then, again, the life and joy of the past were no less blessings in their time because they are now taken away. Yesterday was just as fair and bright and beautiful a day of sunshine for. all of the fact that it fell off, at last, into the darkness of night.

A husband has left the household, and the home seems broken and desolate. But you are glad that he once was yours. All those years of sunny joy and blessedness were real, and none the less so that they are ceased. The loss was only God taking to himself again what was always his, and what he lent to you. When you mourn, " The Lord hath taken away," do not forget the first part of the verse, " The Lord gave ; " and, above all, do not forget the close, " Blessed be the name of the Lord."

A child is taken. It made the house bright and cheery, like a gleam of sunshine. It is gone, and it is dark. But do not forget that the sunshine was a positive blessing while it remained, and that darkness is only sunshine's absence.. You would not have it true that you never had and loved the child ; then the life of the child, even with the loss at the end, was something to be grateful for. Add up all the sorrow, and subtract from the total gift, and there is a large remainder of clear blessing. On the whole, God's dealing has been goodness. Try and thank him, then,

TJie Mystery of Affliction.

though with lips that tremble : and try to look up, though through eyes that are mist}*.

I had two brothers. They grew to be noble Christian men, then struggled with disease, lay down, and died. As their eyes closed in sleep, many a hope and plan of life faded out. many a bright outlook was darkened, many a castled scheme tumbled in ruin. But because they died am I sorry I had those brothers ? Was God, on the whole, good to me. or unkind, in giving them, and then taking them away ? " Good.*' say I, — ;, a thousand times good." Sony? Nay, their memory and influence on me I count among my chief est treasures. And then, though dead, they are mine still. I am richer by two brothers in heaven.

Will you all who have suffered, then, not say with me, •• 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" ?

V.— HOW FINISH COMES.

Not long ago, I visited the celebrated tl Pebble Beach" at Pescadero. on the California coast. The long line of white surf comes up with its everlasting roar, and rattles and thunders among the stones on the shore. They are caught in the arms of the pitiless waves, and tossed and rolled, and rubbed together, and ground against the sharp-grained cliffs. Day and night forever the ceaseless attrition goes on: never any rest. And the result ? Tourists from all the world flock

Light on the Cloud.

thither to gather the round and beautiful stones. They are laid up in cabinets : they ornament the what-not and the parlor mantle.

But go yonder, around the point of the cliff that breaks off the force of the sea ; and up in that quiet cove, sheltered from the storms, and lying ever in the sun, you shall find abundance of pebbles that have never been picked over by the traveller. Why are these left all the years through unsought ? For the simple reason that they have escaped all the turmoil and attrition of the waves, and the quiet and peace have left them as they found them, rough and angular, and devoid of beauty. Polish comes through trouble.

All the difference there is between what looks like a worthless stone and a gem is in the cutting and grinding. All the difference between bullion and coin stamped with the king's face is in the smelting and the minting. All the difference between a wilderness and a garden is wrought by weeding and pruning. All the difference between a block of marble and a statue is produced by the mallet and the chisel.

This principle in nature and art is no less controlling in human life. The best and truest and most sympathetic men and women are the ones who have denied themselves, and have suffered. If I wished to go to a man for help, I'd seek out one who had met loss and trial. If I wished to find a woman to employ in some work of mercy or salvation, I'd search for one 30

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The Mystery of Affliction.

who had felt the cold wrench of pain at her heart, and had learned the lesson of weeping.

God has for us up yonder, by and by, I know not what noble ministries and what exalted places of beauty and of power. Since he knows what niche we are to fill, trust him to shape us to it. Since he knows what work we are to do, trust him to drill us to the proper preparation.

VI. — BUT WHY ME?

Once more : but why me ? Why must I surfer so much, while others escape? My neighbor walks blithely along a pleasant road where the sun shines, and the birds sing ; and he seems never to be bowed beneath such weights as I carry. My way is bordered with weeping- willows ; and the only song is the whippoorwilPs complaint.

The answer may be, Partly it is not true, and partly it may be for a good reason that I will soon speak of. But, first, it is not so true as you think. You do not suffer so much more than others. All suffering and misfortune come not by death or the loss of property. These are even the smallest part of the burden the sad earth bears. When my brother died, I could look just a little down the street to one whose brother was not dead, who was still more afflicted than I. I would rather my brother were dead than that he should live as do the brothers of some. There are a good many things in this world harder to bear than the loss of friends. Many a secret sorrow of the heart, many a wrong, many an unknown sin, gnaws on the soul in private like a canker ; and could they only be exchanged for a grave, the victims would thank God for it as a mercy. If, then, you have only to bear the memory of some noble loss, bless God with a full heart that it is not something worse ; for there be things beside which these are almost gladness.

And then, if there be these differences, — which is not all denied, — I can think of one good reason which may be in the mind of God.

Not all of us are destined for the same positions, or the same ministries, or the same joys, in the life to come ; and so it follows naturally that we ought not to have the same training. Here are two boys : one is to be a machinist, the other a lawyer ; would you expect that the two should pass through the same preparatory training ? What is essential to one would be a hinderance and a waste of time to the other. And, further, the higher the position in life for which a boy is destined, the severer the mental training, and harder the drill of preparation ; so that he who has the hardest lot of study and discipline may, in the absence of any other proof, take that alone as indicating the fact that he is going higher ; and so the curse becomes a blessing.

Why are you, then, called to suffer more than others ? Perhaps, if you take it rightly, because he has for you some nobler work or some higher place designed. 32

The Mystery of Affliction.

VII. — NO LIFE INCOMPLETE.

A life is not necessarily cut off before its time, because it seems so to us. A man dies at his noon, just in the midst of strength and usefulness, just when prepared, as it seems to us, to do good and great work for the world. He is building a church ; he is starting some great plan for the poor or the ignorant ; he is on the eve of a great invention ; he is a missionary just beginning to master his field.

Men exclaim, " O the loss ! " But why ? Can nobody else build churches, or help the poor, or go on missions ? And has God nothing for people to do in the other life ? and is he so poor a general, that he does not know where to station his own officers and men?

Martin Luther was wiser. When they tried to keep him from going to Worms by saying how necessary his life was to the cause, he said, " God can take care of his cause without me." Faithfulness in hours of duty and danger is of more value to God's cause than life.

When my brother died just on the eve of graduation, the neighbors said his college-course was lost. If this life's training is not worth any thing in heaven, they were right. But not so I view it I take it God has work for us by and by, and that earth's drill is fitting us to do it nobly. We graduate from earth into fitness for heaven.

Light on the Cloud.

And then, when children die, people talk of a life unfinished, of buds broken off before their bloom. But how do we know that it was not the bud God wanted ? We never gather a bouquet but we think the buds the finest part. A bud is just as perfect as a flower, only it is not a flower. But shall not God be permitted to have buds in his bouquet, whose fragrance is to perfume the altar in the temple above ?

An acorn is just as finished as an oak. A chapel may be as nice a work of art, just as complete, as the grand magnificence of St. Peter's. A cherub is as perfect as an archangel.

What mother thinks the crowing babe, or the laughing boy of three, any less perfect or beautiful than grown-up men and women? Is there not about them, rather, a grace that is peculiarly their own ? And how dark our life would be without them ! And shall God have no babes, no children, in his beautiful house on high? Must all wait till they be gray, and then go tottering over the threshold of that upper home ? Or shall not, rather, the glad, gleesome children, with flowing hair, and merry, laughing eyes, go smiling through the doorways to meet " their angels " who " do always behold the face of their Father in heaven " ? Cannot God be as kind to them as we can, and watch them as tenderly ?