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. TABLE OF CONTENTS Life's Ideal PACK II Life's Purpose Life's Progress II III 41 Life's Mystery IV 92 Life's Influence 118 Life's Waste VI 144 Life's Law VII 174 TABLH OF CONTENTS ■■■ VIII Life's Pain PAGH 200 IX Life's Environment 222 Life's Memory X 247 Life's Conscience XI 276 Life's Destiny XII . 300 MAKING A LIFE LIFE'S IDEAL It was written by the pen of inspiration con- cerning one of the world's heroes that " he had an excellent spirit in him." The printer blundered with his type and made the record of his life to read that "Daniel had an excellent 'spine' in him." This was not a correct translation, but, unquestion- ably, a statement of fact— a fact of supreme im- portance. His biography reveals his unbending devotion to the highest ideal. When this famous young man went away from home to college in a distant land, he fixed his goal and, in face of tem- porary defeat and bitterest opposition, " he pur- posed in his heart " to be true to that ideal even at the cost of life itself. Duty was the emphatic word in his vocabulary, and he would not defile its ii LIFE'S IDEAL purity with heathen custom or his own cowardice. His ideal was his salvation. Its sanctity was the temple in which he worshipped. It occupied the throne of his life, and he was ever its obedient sub- ject. He hearkened to its voice when desire and flesh cried out against him. It was a circuitous pathway to this ideal of life, and cut through cloud- land, and forest, and darkness, but the light never faded away, and the highest place in the realm was for the weary traveller's reward. A noble purpose is life's guarding, guiding angel. It alone can take a man through a lion's den and lock their crimson jaws. In one hand it holds safety, and in the othet success. Daniel was king at last because his ideal was king at first. A high ideal is the lever under human life, and means the elevation of character. He who is satisfied with his first effort, or his first step, or his first attainment, never reaches emi- nence. A righteous dissatisfaction is essential to future achievement. A deeper longing precedes every bolder attempt. Look higher if you would live higher. An ideal is not something which is al- ways hanging in the distant horizon like a rainbow toward which the child runs with open hand to grasp it only to find it always the same distance 12 i; LIFE'S IDEAL away. The hilltop was no nearer to it than the valley, and the climb was of no avail. It is the great- est reality of life, and every hilltop brings us nearer to its possession. One bright summer morning the old iron horse was slowly but courageously pushing his way up through the wild mountains of the Pacific coast. Suddenly the travellers shouted in a chorus of delight: "There's Shasta! There's Shasta! " and the king of mountains on the western continent raised his royal head above the hills and the lower peaks and above the scattered, fleecy clouds and swung his sparkling sceptre over the kingdoms at his feet. The untrained eye looked through that clear air and carried the message to the w^aiting mind that the famous mountain was distant about ten miles, but the skilled vision of the conductor startled the company by declaring that it was more than one hundred and fifty miles away. He said: " You will be permitted to behold its glory all the day. Have patience and a nearer view will be given you." It was at the setting of the sun when the train halted at the base of that kingliest of mountains, and we beheld it in all its glory. It is a winding, climbing, dangerous jour- ney, but the day is filled with inspiration from the 13 LIFE'S IDEAL .11 !^ i" sight of the ideal, and at the sunset hour there will be perfect vision, and rest, and satisfaction, and re- ward. Ideals are not creations of the brain or the de- sire; they are real. They are not things manu- factured by us; they are discovered. The great musicians did not make their music; they found it. The great artists did not make their pictures; they revealed them. Edison did not make electricity; he discovered its methods. It was not made of his ideals; it, rather, made his ideals. Music is, art is, beauty is, righteousness is, and the one man has come nearer to them than the other, and he talks about them to his fellow men, and, oftentmies, in an unknown tongue. The great truths and ideals of life exist and are the great realities of life, before some man has entered into a closer fellowship with them than other men. Watt, and Faraday, and Newton saw but dimly at first, but their vision proved to be a reality. To talk about the ideal is not to dream. It depends upon the power and persistency of vision. The imagination is the world's greatest explorer. It has been the forerunner of every Columbus. Shakespeare, and Wordsworth, and Tennyson, and Isaiah, and all their company of nobility simply 14 LIFE'S IDEAL drew aside the veil from realities. They attempted to make us see vvhot they saw. The small man is the one who only sees the present and considers policy and expediency, but the great man is he who sees the fundamental and eternal principles and knows by sight and acquaintance, honesty, and truth, and righteousness, and all their blood-rela- tives. This marks the difference between men and machines; between the artist and the automaton; between drudgery and inspiration. All men are stamped with the impress of their ideals. All their efforts are controlled by its power. In every department of life it is the supreme reality; oftentimes unrecognized or considered the possession of a dreamer, but never dropping its sceptre. The ideal of the business man is the mightiest factor in his life; not always sharply defined, but always doing its work. The home is beautified, not so much by drapery or furniture, as by the artistic hand of the ideal. This is the only salvation for most men from a life of drudgery, and disappointment, and despair. Ideals are heavenly messengers; they are the wings of the lark to save the songster from the perils of the lowlands. As- piration places bright garments upon poverty, and IS M^ LIFE'S IDEAL i reveals the blessing in the arms of toil. It snatches manhood out of the snare and coils of discourage- ment and hardship. It makes the music which the unending buzz and rattle of machinery cannot si- lence. It clears the atmosphere of dust and disease and lets in the light and purity of the upper world. The maiden looks through the struggles of her daily task and hearkens for the footstep of a lover and the sound of wedding bells, and watches for the daybreak of hope's morning. The young man faces the burdens of life and raises them to his shoulder and dreams of his own home and his own companion and better days. Ideals are the stars which God places in the sky of young manhood and womanhood, like the other stars above the pathway of traveller and mariner. The wise men who follow this light always reach a Bethlehem. History furnishes unnumbered il- lustrations of the world's greatest and best, being led on to satisfaction and victory by this holy vision. The masters in every part of the world, and in every moment of time, have first been mastered by a noble ideal. They stemmed the current, and bridged the stream, and divided the waters while other men were mere scraps of manhood on the t6 LIFE'S IDEAL surface of the stream and moving with the current. This is the inevitable result of a vulgar content- ment. The upward impulse is the only salvation. The soul's cry for something nobler and better is the food for its growth and the foretelling of its future and ultimate perfection. A victorious ideal is not an occasional impulse, or a momentary elevation, but a steady aim, and a constant star, and a fixed compass. These shadowy and fleeting thoughts and purposes are like drops of dew on the grass-blade of the sum- mer morning. They sparkle with diamond-like brilliancy, and even reflect a world, but they are evanescent. One breath of an opposing wind scat- ters them, and all is lost. The valuable manhood is that which transmutes and permanently trans- forms these ideals into soul-life, and eternal char- acter, and divinest man. He who has a worthy ambition and courageously and wisely seeks it is king. This great power in life is lost by lack of definite- ness or the presence of ignoble ambition, or the result of pride and vanity, or the influence of the temporal and material, or impatience, or the want of a deathless determination. A single stroke 17 wmmm HIUBBiBIHO*: LIFE'S IDEAL I I' of the hammer, without the image in mind, might shatter the statue. Mere pounding is ruinous. Aim and object are essential. Definite purpose and clearly bounded ideals must precede the work of the chisel. One of the most earnest of modern Gaelic poets, Dugald Buchanan, was first led to think of serious subjects by a cleverly turned phrase, uttered half in jest. " What is your profession? " a pious High- lander inquired of him. " As to that," replied Buchanan, " I have none in particular. My mind is very much like a sheet of white paper." " Then take care that the devil does not write his name upon it," said the other. The remark was the one touch needed to turn the poet to more serious thoughts and a more earnest way of life. What is the ideal of your life? Art thou a wor- shipper at the shrine of gold, or fame, or pleasure, or the purely temporal elements of life? If thou art, the muck-rake is in thy hand, and thou art in the mud of the world, and blind to the angel above thy head with a bright crown in his hand. With- out a worthy ideal thou canst never bend thy neck in the upward gaze, and reward is lost forever. Life is a failure; thou hast missed the mark. Thou art i8 ^ LIFE'S IDEAL a slave to the passing and the perishing. The best that is in thee is benumbed and paralyzed. Tell man the objects of your search and he will pass judg- ment upon the result of them, and the value of your character. Life is below its possibility and pressing on toward its condemnation. Fix your goal, define your purpose, make the object of all effort and sacrifice worthy of manhood and immortality. Draw the boundary-line about your ideal for human life. Fasten your eye upon it and make it the greatest reality. Destiny is in the very beginning of life and the earliest thought and plan. A Swedish boy fell out of a window and was badly hurt, but with pressed lips he kept back the cry of pain. The king, Gustavus Adolphus, who saw him fall, prophesied that the boy would make a man for an emergency. And so he did, for he be- came the famous General Bauer. Failures and wrecks are all stamped with the lack of high resolve. Good education, best training, brightest opportunity, most perfect example, have been rendered helpless without this leader. The fountain rises only to the level of the stream. Flabby resolution and low ideal are the creators of weak character and low living. He who pur- 19 m I LIFE'S IDEAL poses in his heart to maintain a high standard is cHnibing toward an outlook of beauty and inspira- tion. He orders not only present events, but is gen- eral over the forces of the future. Misfortune and disaster enter his life only to be defeated by a man of iron, unswerved, even by a hair's breadth, from his high resolve and bright ideal. Lincoln rose to one of the thrones of the world by the quenchless persistency of his ideal. " I have talked with great men," he told his fellow clerk and friend Green, " and I do not see how they differ from others. I can be one of them." In order to keep in practice in speaking he walked seven or eight miles to de- bating clubs. " Practising Polemics," was what he called his exercise. He questioned the school- master concerning the advisability of studying grammar. " If you are going before the public," said his counsellor, " you ought to do it." How could he get a grammar? There was but one in the neighborhood, and that was six miles away. With- out waiting further information he walked immedi- ately to the place, borrowed this rare book, and be- fore night was buried in its mystery. Every moment of his leisure, during the hours of day and night, for many weeks, he gave to the study of that 20 4 I LIFE'S IDEAL book. Lincoln's eagerness to learn became known and awakened interest. Books were loaned him, and his friends assisted him, and even the village cooper allowed him to come into his shop and keep up a fire of shavings sufficiently bright to read by at night. When he had finished the study of his gram- mar he said, " Well, if that's what they call science, I think I will go at another." He had learned the way to conquer subjects and circumstances. His ideal was becoming brighter and clearer and more powerful as he moved on heroically toward it. It came and stood over the President's chair, and he followed it, step by step, with patience and deter- mination at either side of him, until he sat upon the nation's throne, crowned beneath his life's star. " September, 1856, made a new era in my life," said George Eliot, " for it was then I began to write fiction. It had always been a vague dream of mine that, some time or other, I might write a novel; and my shadowy conception of what the novel was to be varied, of course, from one epoch of my life to another, but I never went further toward the actual writing of a novel than an introductory chap- ter describing a Staffordshire village and the life of the neighboring farm-houses, and as the years 21 li LIFE'S IDEAL passed on I lost hope that I should ever be able to write a novel, just as I desponded about everything else in my future. I always thought I was deficient in dramatic power, but I felt I should be at my ease in the descriptive part of a novel. One morning, as I was thinking what should be the subject of my first sketch, my thoughts merged themselves into a dreamy doze and I imagined myself writing a story, of which the title was " The Sad Fortunes of the Rev. Amos Barton." The result was the now famous " Scenes from Clerical Life," which achieved an instant success almost as great as that of * Waverley,' at its first appearance." It was the defining and clarifying of that ideal which flickered, but which she never allowed to go out, that made her name so famous in the literary world. Balzac lived in a garret-room on eleven cents a day, and worked incessantly upon dram? s and comedies, not one of which was accepted, save by the rag-picker. He published a romance in his thirtieth year, and became at once so famous that publishers sought him on all sides. " My own revenue," says Hume, " will be suf- ficient for a man of letters." " Perhaps," says Gibbon, " the mediocrity of my 22 i LIFE'S IDEAL ,,K fortune has contributed to fortify my application." " If I had been born here " (in England), said Montesquieu, ** nothing could have consoled mc in failing to accumulate a large fortune; but I do not lament the mediocrity of my circumstances in France." Poor Goldsmith, in distress, with his landlady clamoring for her rent, sends out for Johnson; he comes, and the great writer, in those circumstances, — which have been immortalized by a picture, — brings forth a story; Johnson reads it, perceives its merit, rushes forth to sell it; the poor writer is re- leased from his fear of ejection, and the world be- gins to read the " Vicar of Wakefield." " What made you plead with such intensity of energy? " was asked of Erskine, after that plea which brought the briefless barrister into notice. " I felt my children tugging at my gown, and ask- ing for bread," was his answer. Some men have been so persuaded of the stimu- lating effects of poverty that they have actually sought it. Barry threw his money into the Lififey, that he might dispose of temptations to ease and luxury. When a student was anticipating his first ap- 23 K 1 I' LIFE'S IDEAL pearance in the intercollegiate games, a friend, by way of encouragement, said: ** If you do not get the gold medal, you may win the silver one." The reply came quickly: " I never try for a second prize! God never intended the immortal soul to crouch in bondage to worldliness, or ignoble ambitions, or the baser things of life. It was given the power and the liberty to soar and breathe the atmosphere of the upper world and live in the skies. There is no power sufficient to shackle a man's aspirations. He can rise out of a dungeon, and above the fogs of skepticism and mock at the chains of his enemy's forging. The darkness may wrap itself about his world, but borne aloft upon the wings of his ideals, he pierces the gold of the sunbeam with his eagle- eyed vision. The swallow circles above and close to the flowers and grass of the meadow, but the eagle lives on the crag and takes long voyages among the cloud-islands of the skies and never knows weariness. That is the birthright of every man at every moment of his world's motion in the universe of God. " Would you like to know how I was enabled to serve my country?" said Admiral Farragut. "It wa? 24 LIFE'S IDEAL >> all owing to a resolution, an ideal I formed when I was ten years of age. My father was sent down to New Orleans, with the little navy we then had, to look after the treason of Burr. I accompanied him as cabin-boy. I had some qualities that, I thought, made a man of me. I could swear like an old salt; could drink as stifif a glass of grog as if I had doubled Cape Horn, and could smoke like a locomotive ; I was great at cards, and fond of f^ambling in every shape. At the close of the din- ner one day, my father turned everybody out of the cabin, locked the door, and said to me: ** David, what do you mean to be? " " I mean to follow the sea." " Follow the sea! Yes, be a poor, miser- able drunken sailor before the mast, kicked and cuffed about the world, and die in some fever hos- pital in a foreign clime." " No," I said, " I'll tread the quarterdeck, and command, as you do." " No, David, no boy ever trod the quarterdeck with such principles as you have and such habits as you exhibit. You will have to change your whole course of life if you ever become a man." My father left me and went on deck. I was stunned by the rebuke and overwhelmed with mor- tification. " A poor, miserable drunken sailor be- 25 ! LIFE'S IDEAL I fore the mast, kicked and cuffed about the world, and to die in some fever hospital." '* That's my fate, is it? I'll change my life and change it at once. I will never utter another oath. I will never drink another drop of intoxicating liquors. I will never gamble. And as God is my witness, I have kept those three vows to this hour." The cherish- ing of such ambitions was his salvation, and gave to America one of its brightest stars. Frequently a false pride in ancestral blood, or position, and an unworthy self-conceit, or ruinous vanity has blasted highest ideals and closed the gates of golden opportunity. Chief Justice Chase was once riding on the cars through Virginia, and they stopped at a little, in- significant town, and they told him that Patrick Henry was born there. He stepped out on the platform and said: " Oh, what a magnificent scene! What glorious mountains! What an atmosphere this is! I don't wonder that a place like this gave birth to a Patrick Henry." A rustic stood near him and heard his remarks, and said: "Yes, stranger, them mountains have been there ever since I can recollect, and the atmosphere hasn't changed much, and the scenery is about the same, 26 LIFE'S IDEAL trick the ene! )here ^ave near Yes, ever as n't ame, but I haven't seen any more Patrick Henrys lying around here, that I can remember." Environment and advantage give birth to pride, but not to nobihty. Tlie one essential element to success, and character, and influence is a worthy purpose — is an ideal with a conscience in it. This can be attained only by fidelity to toil in the un- seen and minute performances of duty. We rise upon what we wish to be by a constant effort. The upward pathway is the result of past achievement. The present is the cradle of the future. Loyalty to the details of duty in the present sphere is essential to coming reward and glory. The present demands, heard, and righteously heeded, are the foundation- stones for future architectural stability and beauty. If this, which is elemental, be not carefully laid and cemented, there will be crashing of the upper stories and ruin of life's hope. Worthiness of greater ele- vation depends entirely upon the perfection and solidity of the under-work. Prove your claims to higher position by completing the service in the lower. All climbing is up a lofty and dangerous mountain-side. There are curves and precipices which make it impossible to return. To go back is to fall. The only safety is on and up. Achieve- 27 ^ LIFE'S IDEAL V i f 11^ iiicnt will never permit a man to rest. There is no satisfaction, and no vacation, in accomplishment. It creates yearning and anxiety. Aspiration forces effort and upward movement until the summit is reached and the companionship of the victors and hosts angelic tell us we arc upon the heights of heaven. The purely temporal, and material, and worldly are too low for inspiration. They are the destroyers of ideals and worthy ambitions. They leave the upper stories all unused, with dust and cobweb to cover the windows and destroy the outlook. The spiritual is man's glory. The lion is stronger than he; the eagle is swifter than he; the bee equals his genius for building; but he surpasses all creation in his reason, and imagination, and moral sentiment, and power of framing and securing his ideals. A mine is not man's riches; a store is not man's world. The skill of a mechanic and the success of a merchant are not sufficient for high liv- ing. This is bankruptcy. Low ideals in the mind will not support a lofty character. The model must be in the eye before the artist paints or carves skil- fully. The greatest controlling force in life is the ideal of life. It cannot be hid. It will come out in the very face of Judas, or in the face of John. This 28 LIFE'S IDEAL is the written and indelible lanj^uage of every deed. It is the mark of direction which reveals the way we are going^. " A man may play the fool in the drifts of the desert," says Emerson, " but every grain of sand shall seem to see. He may be a solitary eater, but he cannot keep his foolish counsel. A broken com- plexion, a swinish look, ungenerous acts, and the want of due knowledge, — all blab. Can a cook, a Chiffinch, an lachimo be mistaken for Zeno or Paul? Confucius exclaimed: ' How can a man be concealed! How can a man be concealed!' *' On the other hand, the hero fears not that, if he withhold the avowal of a just and brave act, it will go unwitnessed and unloved. One knows it himself, — and is pledged by it to sweetness of peace and to nobility of aim, which will prove, in the end, a better proclamation of it than the relating of the incident." To always keep before the eye of the soul the highest ideal calls for one of the sternest struggles. In this is the only redemption of life from the low and the common, the earthly and the unreal. Tiberius lived in a most luxurious age, and a most luxurious city, and a most luxurious palace. The 29 LIFE'S IDEAL ; ■ i I i wealth of the world was his. He was acquainted with all of the world pleasures. His wishes were transformed instantly into realities. His mar- ble palace stood in the world's most beautiful en- vironment of climate, and flowers, and fruit, and the material riches of earth, but his luxury and his gratified desires made him a most miserable spec- imen of humanity. His very manner of life was the murderer of true royalty and nobility. In a letter, written to the Conscript Fathers, he gives utterance to perhaps the most dismal wail that ever escaped a human heart. " What to write you. Conscript Fathers, or what not to write, may the gods and goddesses consume me, more than they eternally do, if I know." Miserable man ! No wonder, though you take your place in the niche of history as " Tristissimus hominum." Ideals are the knights to destroy the low and animal remnants in every man. They smite the sor- did and mean with a death blow. The disappoint- ments and failures have made most men to accept something lower than the purpose and plan of the morning hour of life. The noon-day heat has made them faint and ready to give up, and, therefore, they accepted the less and contented themselves with the 30 I LIFE'S IDEAL ■i half-way station up the mountain-side and never stood above the clouds. Ideals are not evanescent beauty upon life's clouds. They are the realities of which the bright coloring is the symbol. They are that for wliich the bow circles the darkness. They are the promises of God. An ideal is not an air-castle. The one has existence only in a dream; the other is a part of real life. The one lulls a man to sleep; the other awakens him to earnest and crowning activity. It is fhe indolent man's dream to sing of the mighty deeds he is going to do, and the vast mines of wealth he is to possess, and the great influence he is destined to wield, and the whole calendar of summer days without a with- ered leaf of autumn-time or snow-flake in the sky. That is an air-castle and floats away in the mist and haze without foundation in principle, or anchorage in reason. Life's ideal must be wedded to tireless and deathless energy. The future holds only rub- bish in its hands for the man who attempts, by un- lighteous divorce, to separate these two. It is the holiest matrimony. They say that man is the archi- tect of his own destiny, but a builder is quite as essential as an architect. Real living is building upon actual conditions and according to divine 31 ^ifmimmmimmm LIFE'S IDEAL j!i plans. Life is in the present but for the future. Shape the ideal out of the actual. Condition does not change only as the accomplishment of the pur- pose changes it. It is the small and passing word, and act, and thought, which are the threads of gold in the pattern of life, and in the perfect fabric. Each day has its proportion, or the development is neither harmonious nor stable. What we will do is prophesied in what we do. The victory for the ideal depends upon the blood which enters into the real. To-morrow is indissolubly connected with to- day. Living up to the fulness of to-day's possibili- ties is the only road to the king's palace. Dreams can be made realities; air-castles changed into fortresses; and life's ideals certain of attainment by a living resolution to make the most of the present moment. It is an easy task to make declaration concerning what we will do or what we would do after every " if." The indicative mood is better in the sentence of life. It is a weakness itself to con- tinually say " If I were." It is monarch-like to say " I am," " I do." You may never have a million dollars, but one-millionth part of that vast sum car- ries with it the same tremendous possibility and responsibility. What a man does with Jhe dollar 32 LIFE'S IDEAL -^it'- he will do with the million. What he does with \' Ty^ one moment of time he will do with a year. What he does with one book he will do with a library. What he does with small opportunity he will do with the larger. What he does in ordinary life, he will do in the moment when he declared he would reveal startling courage and heroism. Our safety is only in having high purpose and clear vision and incessant toil toward their realization. Every man, necessarily, and by a law as rigid as the law of gravitation, goes toward his ideal and in propor- tion to his activity and energy. The golden steps in the stairway to every throne are made out of the pure metal of earnestness, and energy, and grit, and determination, and conquered failures. Highest elevations are reached by treading upon the dead past. Victory has often been won out of the very jaws of defeat. Mistakes should be only teachers in life's school to spur us on. WhenBeecherwasan under-graduate he went out to a neighborhood schoolhouse to conduct a prayer service. When he attempted to speak his thoughts took wings and deserted him, and his speaking was a failure. This aroused him, he determined to over- come his embarrassment, and won. The first ap- 33 i) r LIFE'S IDEAL pearance of Disraeli as a speaker in the House of Commons was a dismal failure. Loud laughter greeted every sentence. But his closing word was a prophecy: " I have begun several times many things; and have succeeded in them at last. I shall sit down now, but the time will come when you shall hear me." And it soon appeared. " When you get into a tight place," says Harriet Beecher Stowe, " and everything goes against you, till it seems as if you could not hold on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn." A phrenologist, examining the head of the Duke of Wellington, said: " Your grace has not the organ of animal courage fully developed." " You are right," replied the great man: "and, but for my sense of duty, I should have retreated in my first fight." The Duke of Wellington saw a soldier turn pale as he marched up to a battery. " That is a brave man," said he; " he knows his danger, and faces it." That is grit as I understand it. After the defeat at Essling, the success of Napoleon's attempt to withdraw his beaten army depended on the character of Massena, to whom the emperor dispatched a messenger, telling him to 34 LIFE'S IDEAL keep his position for two hours longer at Aspen. This order, couched in the form of a request, re- quired almost an impossibility. But Napoleon knew the indomitable tenacity of the man to whom he gave it. The messenger found Messena seated on a heap of rubbish, his eyes bloodshot, his frame weakened by his unparalleled exertions during a contest of forty hours, and his whole appearance indicating a physical state better befitting the hos- pital than the field. But that steadfast soul seemed altogether unaffected by bodily prostration. Half dead as he was with fatigue, he rose painfully and said: "Tell the Emperor that I will hold out for two hours." And he kept his word. " Never despair," says Burke, " but if you do, work on in despair." You see John Knox preaching the coronation sermon of James VI., and arraigning Queen Mary and Lord Darnley in a public discourse at Edin- burgh, and telling the French ambassador to go home and call his king a murderer; John Knox making all Christendom feel his moral power, and at his burial the Earl of Morton saying: " Here lieth a man who in his life never feared the face of man." Where did John Knox get much of his 35 ifT fT LIFE'S IDEAL schooling for such resounding and everlasting achievement? He got it while in chains pulling at the boat's oar in French captivity. Michael Faraday, one of the greatest in the scientific world, did not begin by lecturing in the university. He began by washing bottles in the experimenting- room of Humphrey Davy. " Hohenlinden," the immortal poem of Thomas Campbell, was first re- jected by a newspaper editor, and in the notes to correspondents appeared the words: "To T. C. The lines commencing, * On Linden when the sun was low,' are not up to our standard. Poetry is not T. C.'s foite." Frederick Douglass made a visit to his birth- place in Talbot County, Md., for the purpose of purchasing a beautiful villa, and in a talk to a col- ored school said: " I once knew a little colored boy whose mother and father died when he was but six years old. He was a slave, and no one to care for for him. He slept on a dirt floor in a hovel, and in cold weather would crawl into a meal-bag head foremost and leave his feet in the ashes to keep him wir/ai. Often he would roast an ear of corn and e.'i*- '• TO satisfy his hunger, and many times has he crav'or' under the barn or stable and secured eggs, 36 LIFE'S IDEAL oy six or nd ad im Ind he s, which he would roast in the fire and eat. That boy did not wear pants Hke you do, but a tow-linen shirt. Schools were unknown to him, and he learned to spell from an old Webster spelling-book and to read and write from posters on cellar and barn doors, while boys and men would help him. He would then preach and speak, and soon became well known. He became presidential elector, United States marshal, United States recorder. United States diplomat, and accumulated some wealth. He wore broadcloth and didn't have to divide crumbs with the dogs under the table. That boy was Frederick Douglass. What was possible for me is possible for you. Don't think because you are colored you can't accomplish anything. Strive earnestly to add to your knowledge. So long as you remain in ignorance so long you will fail to command the respect of your fellow men." /"Always look^u£, but njeyer give^j^ God is ever lovingly whispering to man, fix your goal and " My grace is sufficient for thee." The highest ideal is touched by the Eternal, and bears the name of character. The perfect pattern and only worthy ideal for humankind is the Christ. He alone pos- sesses the mystery of the highest ideal and thg LIFE'S IDEAL S ! power to attain it. There is a spiritual hunger which makes every mortal gravitate toward him. Before the needle of the compass is magnetized it lies in any position, but when thrilled and electrified by the magnetic force, it points forever in the one direction. So the low and aimless life, when touched by the spirit of Christ, invariably and eternally points in the one direction. To be like Christ is the great circle which sweeps every other ideal and ambition within its circumference. As Shakespeare reveals an ideal for the young poet, and Raphael unveils the future for the young artist, so Jesus Christ stands out unique and alone as the ideal for human character. David Livingston first saw Christ and longed to be like Him before he was crucified in the darkness of Africa. In obedience to his holy vision he liter- ally placed a cross upon the dark continent. He journeyed north into the depths of heathenism; he then came back part of the distance and fell upon his knees to pray for Africa; he then went directly east to the coast and came back to fall again upon his knees in the same place and pray for Africa; he then forced his way directly westward to the coast and again returned to the same centre to fall upon 38 LIFE'S IDEAL his knees and pray for Africa. On this cross he lay and cried from the depths of his soul in obedi- ence to the most sacred ideal of life, ** God bless all men who, in any way, help to heal this open sore of the world. God save Africa." With that sancti- fied prayer upon his lips they found him upon his knees in death. His heathen friends lovingly car- ried his body through jungle and forest to the wait- ing vessel which brought him to the shores of Eng- land and placed him in Westminster Abbey, where his name is carved high among the world's noblest and best, and angel hands placed one of the bright- est crowns upon his royal brow. The pathway to the highest glory on earth or in heaven is obedience to the ideal in the life and sacri- fice of the world's Redeemer. )n le list )n 39 Everything cries out to us that we must renounce. Thou must go without ; go without/ That is the everlasting song which every hour of our life through, hoarsely sings to us. Die, and come to life, for so long as this is not accomplished ihou art but a troubled guest upon an earth of gloom. — Goethe. // is when we renounce that, life {properly speaking) can be said to begin. In a valiant suffering for others, not in a slothful making others suffer for us, did nobleness ever lie, — Carlyle. fi '' What will ye give me ? — Judas. For me to live is Christ. — Paul. : % 40 II I, %* LIFE'S PURPOSE " Is life worth living? " It depends altogether upon the object of your life. Your definition of life precedes the answer to that familiar question. Here is a man who carried the sentence upon his lips, " What will ye give me? " That was the con- trolling motive of his life. It took the strength out of his arm, the firmness out of his foot, the light- ning out of his eye, and the sweetness out of his heart. Judas was the child of magnificent possibilities; beneath his hand lay golden opportunities, but he' scorned the true riches for the tinsel, and awakened to the tragedy of his blunder when it was too late. It was his privilege to be where every Christian would like to have been. How we have rejoiced even in the thought of what it must have been to be m the companionship of the Christ for those three wonderful years! It was his to look into the 41 LIFE'S PURPOSE V h face of Jesus, to grasp His hand of love, to listen to His marvellous words, and to see the smile of His heavenly joy. He witnessed the constant reve- lation of His divinity in His humanity. He received that unadulterated love, and heard that holiest prayer, and knew that sublimest purpose. This was the man who had dined with Christ, and rested with Him, and walked with Him. He saw Him touch the lame man's foot, the palsied man's hand, the blind man's eye, and the deaf man's ear. He had even been at the side of the dead man when Jesus spoke the words of life. The statement is almost too bold for belief that he is the same man who walked into the presence of the enemies of his best Friend, and the world's noblest character, and said, with a miser's spirit and a coward's attitude, " What will ye give me? " Money was the most sacred thing in the world. He had forgotten heaven, and was only familiar with the vocabulary of the market, " How much? " That was the most important part of life. At that altar he had wor- shipped so long and so reverently that even the Son of God had to take a second place when the critical testing hour came. If that is all there is to life, then the rope is a good thing for Judas to • 42 LIFE'S PURPOSE carry in one hand while he holds his money in the other. The Son of God was always right, and from the heights of His own vision and sacrifice, He made no mistake when He turned toward the be- trayer and said, " Better for that man had he never been born." It is better not to have lived than to live a mean, low, selfish life. Dust, earth, and ashes may be the composition of existence, but not of life. They have meaning in the last ceremony when they fall on the casket of a Judas. " Life is real, life is earnest, And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul." Here is another man who had not known the riches of personal association with the world's Saviour. He had in the irreligiousness of his re- ligion held the coat as Stephen manifested the same spirit as his divine Master while the Jews were killing Him. Now he is on the way to mingle more Christian blood with the dust of earth. Heaven in- terferes. That one look at Jesus was enough. From that hour he says he began to live. He reached the summit of human life when he said, ** For me to live is Christ." He declared that all the past, up 43 LIFE'S PURPOSE i to that hour on the Damascus road, was not a part of his life. He first began to live when he began to say, " For me to live is Christ." He braved every danger and persecution, and even death itself, in the strength of that mighty impulse. He lost his old self and all its fear and desire for riches, or position, or ease. That miraculous and mysterious transformation was a definite experience and an unquestioned reality. Christ had suddenly come into his life as its author, its preserver, its sancti- fier, and its eternity. Everything was changed, even his name. The Christ of Bethlehem and Naz- areth and Gethsemane and Calvary was all in all. The difference between Judas and Paul is the differ- ence between "How much?" and "To live is Christ." The one sold Christ, and the other lived Him. The one died the death of a traitor and twisted his own rope; the other died the death of a martyr, and angels twined laurels for his kingly brow. The difiference between the two lives is the difference between every great and small life, be- tween every man who has visions from a mountain- top and every man in a valley. This is not mere history; it is present-day reality. We are not far removed from this startling contrast in human life. 44 LIFE'S PURPOSE The principles remain even if the words on the page change. Names in the sentence may change from Judas to James, but the elemental laws of the world never change. There will always be the same wide chasm between " Making a living " and " Making a life." Making a living is the small, time-serving, dwarfed and paralyzed man's object. Making a life is the kingly, immortal, character- worshipping man's object. The one lives in the narrow, prison-limited circle of self, and the other in a world which is bounded only when infinity and eternity have limits. There is no circumfer- ence to the life lived outside of self. Mere making a living only touches the crust of existence and makes the most successful man cry out, " Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." Making a life is the pri- mary and the essential. Better for Judas had he never been born, than to buy bread with his thirty pieces of silver. Making a living depends upon temporal circumstances. Making a life rests upon eternal principles. Making a life does not depend upon riches, or fame, or health, or anything except a holy principle and an undying purpose. Every man comes within the sweep of this radiant possi- bility. 45 LIFE'S PURPOSE '■,s Making a life is to live outside of self. Why did Carlyle callRuskin "The reerthat guides his gener- ation? " Where did he worthily secure such praise? Ruskin was the child of genius. Fortune had been lavish with him. He inherited and earned a vast amount of money. He became a literary star when only twenty-one years of age — a star of almost first magnitude. Every pathway was brilliantly I'ghted for his feet, and every door was opened for his en- trance, and every honor was ready for his posses- sion. He saw further than other men, and could lead the host. He turned away from this golden path to forget himself and to live in the lives of others. He was willing to walk on Whitechapel Road and breathe the air of the poverty-stricken districts of London; to behold the intense suffering of the overworked and underpaid men, women, and children. He saw their brains reel, and bodies weaken, and hearts faint beneath the tremendous burdens of life. He saw enfeebled and disease-rid- den children born from such ancestry into a world of darkness. He looked at the scene so sympa- thetically and so continuously that the city of Lon- don seemed to him to turn into a gigantic ceme- tery, and hospital, and prison, and asylum. He 46 LIFE'S PURPOSE possessed more than a million of money, but that was not his life. He cried not, " How much can I get out of this human blood? " but, " How much can I give for its purification and redemption? " He gave one-tenth, then one-third, then one-half, and at last his whole fortune, in sublimest sacri- fice. He lived with the poor and for them. He formed clubs and schools, and brightened their lives with new ideas and new opportunities. He broke their shackles and set them free. He enlisted other men, and his own art- students, in this divine service. His life was literally laid upon another cross, but he lives among the immortals, and won a triumphant victory through the operation of the sublimest principles in human life. A man finds heaven in an act of sacrifice, even if death ends all. Goodness is self-rewarding. Heaven is in the action itself. The slightest act for others carries its own blessing to the heart that lives outside of itself. It has in it the sweetness of life, but it is also a grain of mustard-seed which carries a .hundred-fold and an eternal harvest. It is the supremest folly and basest philosophy which says, " Eat it up, consume it, for to-morrow we die." Be happy now. Begin your heaven; do not 47 LIFE'S PURPOSE [) wait for some far-off distant land. Drink in this sunshine; it is part of the upper world. Selfishness is the cause of your trouble and your sadness. It gathers every cloud in one place and forces them to meet in a terrific thunder-storm. Banish selfish- ness, and you drive away clouds, and darkness, and ghostly noises. When Carlyle placed that bright crown upon the I brow of Ruskin, he had written, " Oh, it is great, and there is no other greatness — to make one nook of God's creation more fruitful, better, more worthy of God; to make some human heart a little wiser, manlier, happier, more blessed, less accursed." Some one has said, " What youth who has a par- ticle of ambition or self-respect would not hang his head in shame for his useless, aimless, shiftless life, after reading the story of such men as Arthur Kavanaugh, who, although born without arms or legs, yet lifted himself, by an inborn determination that he would rise to distinction and honor? His life was a wonderful lesson for American youth who feel that they have no chance, merely because they are obscure and poor. His success shows that there is scarcely any difficulty, impediment, or de- 48 ] ; LIFE'S PURPOSE formity which downright hard work and manly grit may not overcome. The armless and legless youth was determined to show the world that he could do almost any- thmg that anybody else could do, in spite of his frightful deformity. He learned to shoot well, was a skilful sailor and fisherman, and was considered one of the best horseback riders in Ireland He also wrote well, holding his pen in his teeth, as he also did his bridle when he rode. He was a great hunter, and gained quite a reputation in India for his hunting exploits with tigers and other wild beasts. What folly, audacity, and presumption for a youth with neither arms nor legs to attempt to get mto Parliament. Of course everybody laughed at him, everybody said it was ridiculous, but he knew better. He knew that determination, untir- .ng mdustry, and grit can accomplish almost any- thing in the world. His ambition was gratified and Arthur Kavanaugh gained a seat in the House of Commons. The world ought to bow before such heroism and tnumph. But that of itself is not the best of "te. As Ruskm's money was not Raskin's life, so 49 LIFE'S PURPOSE V. Jfl Xavanaugh's position was not Kavanaugh's life. To live is not only to get into Parliament, but to be a Gladstone or a Shaftesbury in the sacrifice of self for the sake of human rights. Mere position may be a part of heaven's condemnation. It is the use of that position for the sake of suffering humanity in which the highest life is found. The fame which is of ^"^Ine is that which is born in sac- rifice and rocked ii: ' cradle of service. / The wise man and the fool die, and nature makes no difference as to burn.l. The good man and the bad man die, and the bad man is likely to have the better tombstone of the two. Every man is stunned, and bewildered, and confounded by the mysteries around his world and human existence. You might not detect the difference between the dog's grave and the man's, after the priest or the preacher has stepped back and the shovel has done its work. The fool leaves a will, and the wise man an example, and the world cares more for the will than it does for the character. Even his nearest friends hasten to open the one and neglect to read the other. " He seeth that wise men die, likewise the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others." A thorn fence of interro- 50 if LIFE'S PURPOSE gat ion-points surrounds this condition. Only Go<3 can open the unseen gate and lead a man out into larger vision and higher living. This gate has a secret latch, and only the sacrificial hand can open it. The young person begins life by accepting the popular theory that there are certain objects which, attained, bring happiness. He awakens after his dreams and struggles to see those who have riches wanting more and never satisfied. The man with fame, envied, slandered, and unhappy. Even love itself has lost power to produce joy. Success itself has no value, only when the Columbus spirit has discovered the hidden secret of how to be success- ful with success. All these things, which the world terms success, and value, and happiness, may be hindrances, and sometimes even a curse. Riches. .?LS}!5ILi9n!l3H5tJ^,JiRClo)^^ oy?crs'^opd, iL3^L-HSJ^te-~?XjS!He- Real life is outside of possessions, and positions, and pleasures. That is not joy which is poisoned by a single drop of self- ishness. It has lost heaven's touch. A beautiful incident of Agassiz's early years re- veals the secret of the noble life of that brilliant and victorious genius. It illustrates his whole life. He began right. He lived in Switzerland, on the SI LIFE'S PURPOSE . 1 If ■I- border of a lake. He had a little brother, and the two boys thought they would like to join their father. The lake was covered with ice, and they were to walk across. The mother stood by the window watching them — anxious as mothers are — seeing them getting along very well, till at length they came to a crack in the ice, perhaps a foot wide. Her heart failed her. She thought, " That little fellow will try to step over; Louis will get over well enough, but the little fellow will fall in." She could not call to them — they were too far. What could she do? She watched him, and, as she watches, Louis got down on the ice, his feet on one side of the crack, and his hands on the other, just like a bridge, and his little brother crept over him to the other side. Then Louis got up, and they * went on their way to their father. There is winter everywhere. The ice is full of cracks. There are helpless souls on the other side. The ice is wet. Will you get down? You must first get down if you would get up. You must be a bridge if you would be an Agassiz. If you would know the joy of a great soul, you must first know the sacrifice. Real pleasure is not found where most men are S2 LIFE'S PURPOSE searching, for they are lost in the woods of a false philosophy. The gold is found only in the deep mines of God's higher law. We are such dull schol- ars in God's school, we never learn from history. Every man must make his own errors and place his own foot upon God's laws. We do not believe the other man, but walk right up to the hot stove and blister our own fingers before we are wise enough to leave it alone. It was one of the lessons of the cradle, and the high chair, and the school room, and life's larger college, that the things of time and sense, grasped by the hand of selfishness, can never satisfy the heart of man. In the centre of his fame and luxury every Solomon cries out, " Vanity — vexation of spirit," and heaves a heavy sigh for something better. " But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdi- tion." " For the love of money is the root of all evil, while some coveted after they have erred from the faith and pierced themselves through with many sorrows." Hearken to the man who says: " For me to live S3 LIFE'S PURrOSE I is Christ." • " Godliness with contentment is great gain." " Having food and raiment, let us be there- with content." I have learned that in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." Man is an irrational creature when it comes to the realms of morals; the same man is sometimes great intellectually, but morally he is a madman. Contemptibly weak when off his special line. With everything in his favor, and the world calling him successful, he fails to extract any sweetness out of life, because he has never touched the right princi- ple. Making a living has meant more to him than making a life. In fact, he has never discovered that wide distinction. He is perfectly familiar with what Judas said, but has never heard Paul's motto. The millions and mountain-tops of the world are not producers of joy. I saw in a narrow alley three children with dusky skin, bare feet, and tattered garments. The oldest boy had found an empty box, some blocks and sticks, and, out of these rude materials, had constructed a movable cart. He placed, lovingly, the two little black relatives in the carriage, and then said, with delight, and the touch of the other world upoti it: " 111 ride you as long as you want me to. I made it for you." I 54 LIFE'S PURPOSE le las I saw that same day a coachman and footman drive the spangled team and cushioned carriage to the palace door. The occupants were marked by the world's care. There was deeper joy in the alley than on the avenue. The colored boy knew more of life than the millionaire. The empty soap-box was better than the carriage. The life outside of self was the one essential. Service for others is the one real service for self. .Making the highest life is tn live in rhrist. He holds the ideal of life, He holds the strength to at- tain it, as He holds the crown for it s rew ard. The J^nauples W'hich control this^Jife in Him are con- trary to the world's principl es. H e startles the world by declaring that *' Loss js gain/^*_^^iying^ is saving," *' Death is life." His ideal is character, not something that is added to life, but that eternal something which is life itself. If a man is to live in Him, then He must live in this ideal. If He came to carry a cross, I must carry a cross. If He came to be ministered unto, I must serve. If He came to give His life a ransom, I must be ready to die for others. If He came to seek and save the lost, that must be my 55 LIFE'S PURPOSE u mission. In this kind of a life, what may seem loss to the world will be gain to me. The rich young man may keep all the command- ments, but the life in Christ demands the complete surrender, and says, " Sell all that thou hast and give to the poor, and follow me." Men are unwilling to submit to this demand of the higher life, and are blind to the fact that dying things cannot give undying pleasure. They con- tinue to act as if the things of this world could give unperishable delight. It is a crooked path which most people take to reach the side of Christ. There is a straight and narrow path to Christ and to His life, but they cross the fields and pick the flowers, and waste time, and get lost before they begin to ask the solemn questions. The floods washed away home and mill — all the poor man had in the world. But as he stood on the scene of his loss, after the water had subsided, broken-hearted and discouraged, he saw something on the bank which the water had washed bare. " It looks like gold," he said. It was gold. The flood which had beggared him had made him rich. The gold of life is oftentimes discovered only when all that the world calls life is swept away. 5^ \ i • LIFE'S PURPOSE [he :he led, ing nt .od Inly lay. A man who might carve statutes and paint pictures, spending his Hfe in making mock-Howcrs out of wax and paper, is wise compared witli the man who might have God for company, and yet shuts God out and Hves an empty Hfe. Bury your little theo- ries, give life and power to the divine ideal. There is no mistake with God. Selfishness shall not be triumphant. Give God all the time He asks. These principles were not made by little man for his petty uses. They were made with strength in them. This is the calm of heaven in which a man can sun himself. This life, in the purpose of the Son of God, can be attained only by the strength which He im- parts. " Apart from Me ye can do nothing." " I can do all things through Christ, who strengthen- eth me." " I have given you an example." " My grace is sufBcient for thee." This makes the great contrast between men in similar circumstances in life. " Two merchants lived side by side in the same street. Both were prosperous, but one was a Christian, and the other was not. In a commer- cial panic, both went down, and, at fifty years, had to begin life again. The merchant who was not a Christian promptly committed suicide. The other, ^7 -T f- LIFE'S PURPOSE with unfaltering faith in God, never let go the peace that passeth understanding. He kept his place in the church, and none could ever tell that he en- dured hardships, for his soul remained full of peace which God alone can give." This life in Christ is mystery, but also glorious reality. No human life can carry a grander sen- tence than, " For me to live is Christ." To live in His purpose, and through His strength, and to re- ceive His approval. " By this time to-morrow, I shall have gained a peerage or a place in Westminster Abbey," Nelson said to his ofBcers before the battle of the Nile. Admiral Nelson was made a baron, with a pension of £2,000. After the battle of Copenhagen he was made a viscount. Four years later came his fatal, crowning victory of Trafalgar. Although mortally wounded, he lived to know that the triumph was complete. " Kiss me. Hardy," said the dying hero. Truly, " The bravest are the tenderest, The loving are the daring." ft Thank God, I have done my duty," and " God and country," were his last words. 58 LIFE'S PURPOSE % i. God But infinitely better than a peerage or a place in Westminster Abbey will be the crowning of the humblest child of the King, who, before all the hosts of heaven and earth, shall hear him say, " In- asmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." • In Sherman's campaign it became necessary, in the opinion of the leader, to change commanders. O. O. Howard was promoted to lead a division which had been under command of another gen- eral. Howard went through the campaign at the head of the division, and on to Washington to take part in the review. The night before the veterans were to march down Pennsylvania Avenue, General Sherman sent for General Howard, and said to him, " Howard, the politicians and the friends of the man whom you succeeded are bound that he shall ride at the head of his old corps, and I want you to help me out." " But it is my command," said Howard, " and I am entitled to ride at its head." " Of course you are," said Sherman. " You led them through Georgia and the Carolinas, but, Howard, you are a Christian." "What do you mean?" replied Howard. "If 59 F^ LIFERS PURPOSE you put it on that ground it changes the whole business. *' What do you mean, General Sher- man? " " I mean that you can stand the disappointment. You are a Christian." " Putting it on that ground, there is but one an- swer. Let him ride at the head of the corps." " Yes, let him have the honor," added Sherman; " but, Howard, you will report to me at nine o'clock, and ride by my side at the head of the whole army." In vain Howard protested, but Sherman said, gently, but authoritatively, " You are under my orders." When the bugle sounded the next morning Howard was found trembling like a leaf, and it re- quired another order from General Sherman before he was willing to take the place assipned to him. He had, as a Christian, yielded the place to another which rightly belonged to him, and, in the grand review, found himself not at the head of the corps, but at the head of the army. When the white horse and his Rider come down the skies in everlasting triumph, self-sacrifice shall carry the crown of glory. 60 •ps, To live content with small means ; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion ; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich ; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart ; to study hard ; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, aivait occasions, hurry never ; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious grow up through the common — this is my symphony. — William Henry Channing. Progress man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's and not the beasts ; God is ; they are, Man partly is and wholly hopes to be. — Browning. Life is a series of surprises. We do not guess to-day the mood, the pleasure, the power, of to-morrow when we are building up our being. A lower states — of acts, of routine and sense, we can tell somewhat, but the masterpieces of God^ the total growths and universal movements of the soul, Ue hideth. I'hey are incalculable. I can know that truth is divine and helpful, but how it shall help me 1 can have no guess for so to be is the soul inlet of so to know. The new position of the advancing man has all the powers of the old, yet has them all now. It carries in its bosom all the ener- gies of the past, yet is itself an exhalation of the morning. I cast away in this new moment all my once hoarded knowl- edge as vacant and vain. N'ow, for i he first time, seem I to know anything rightly. The simplest words, we do not know what they mean except when we love and aspire. — Emerson. Ill LIFE'S PROGRESS The genius and hope of human Hfe is in its prog- ress. The sublime possibilities in manhood are the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night. They are the abiding companions of the hard and perilous journey, but prophesy victory and the land of promise. The child holds the acorn and ques- tions its mystery; then drops it upon the ground and presses it into the earth beneath his tiny foot. A few years pass by, and upon that same soil stands the stalwart form of a man. He has been a war- rior on the battlefields of his country, and now proudly wears the mark of courage and patriot- ism. He has an eye with the lightnings in it, and a voice which carries the thunders in its com- mands. He rules the thousands at will. Now he is under the shadow of a gigantic oak which has braved the storms of many a winter and furnished shelter and delight through the heat of summer. It 63 LIFE'S PROGRESS I I I is ready to be sacrificed in the building of a king's palace or the making of a majestic ship. The oak is the acorn, and the soldier is the child. One and the same. Progress through the years is the secret of the marvellous transformation. The helpless babe and kingly man, the tiny acorn and giant for- est; this is the startling yet familiar reality. Famil- iarity has banished wonder and silenced the teacher. The child wrestles with his letters, and how to place them in the word and then in the sentence is a con- stant puzzle. The great scholar is deciphering hieroglyphics or an Egyptian monument and mak- ing revelations which are the amazement of the student world. The struggling, failing child is the scholar of unquestioned authority. They call the ragged urchin " Bob." They almost despair in the attempt to teach him or to save him. He seems to be lost to all consecrated effort. A hopeless waif of the streets. They afterward called him Dr. Robert Morrison, the first and greatest missionary to China. This is the hope of manhood and the dignity of life. " It doth not yet appear what we shall be." There are brightest possibilities for every life here and hereafter. This is not an exception to the rule. 63 1; LIFE'S PROGRESS No law in the universe need be broken. It is tbe movement of the highest law. It is the object toward which every force in the world is working. The progress of manhood is the centre around which the very world revolves. There is no organic life in nature without growth. It is essential in both the natural and the spiritual world. There may be orthodoxy, or creed, or ceremony, without life, but there can be no religion. Progress is elemental in Christianity. Growth in grace is one of the fun- damental principles. This is the emphatic mark of vital religion. There may be reverses and tempo- rary backward movements, but the time and the seasons fix the buds, and open the blossom, and ripen the lucious fruit. The great movements of the soul must be forward. Contentment is a grace which needs definition and explanation. Satisfac- tion with past attainment is unrighteous. The holi- est ambition of the soul is progress. When Thor- waldsen had finished a statute that satisfied him, in deepest sorrow he discovered that his genius had departed from him. His great intellect saw that failure began at the point beyond which a man could push no further. That was the result in his life. The statue was his best but his last of real 64 LIFE'S PROGRESS 11- value. The best in a man ought to grow to the last. This is the greatest possibiHty in every life. Progress depends upon a worthy purpose, a dauntless will, and a divine force. The holiest pur- pose and most worthy ambition of the human soul is the aim of perfection of character. A glorious possibility. " This one thing I do " was the cry of a great heart which understood the value of char- acter and appreciated the transformation into the very likeness of the perfect Man. Perfection, com- pletion, roundness, wholeness, were large words in his vocabulary. This is not the dream of a mo- ment. It may be as long as eternity and as ex- pansive as God, but the bright mark upon which every faculty and all ambition and energy is con- centrated. Everything else is chasing butterflies or following a will-o'-the wisp into the damp, and dark, and disease of the night and the swamp. This is the reality and the only thing which is affected by every part of life. All other things are secondary and, when in their proper relation, are assistants to it. It is being, not doing. It is not an act, but is the achieving of truest nobility. The complete realization may be a long distance ahead, but every step lessens the journey. Every fraction makes the 6s LIFE'S PROGRESS I I iii million less. Some things in mathematics are never exactly measured, but they are used in the prob- lem. So is the problem of life worked out by con- stant approximation. General Gordon, the great English soldier of Khartoum fame, sat in his tent reading the " Imitation of Christ," by Thomas a Kempis, that book which illustrates the persist- ency of self-discipline and the certainty of becom- ing more like Christ. He reads and then writes: " This is my book, and, although I never shall be able to attain to one-hundredth part of the perfec- tion of that soul, I strive toward it, the ideal is here." Every heart knows aspiration and is con- scious of breathing upward and longing for some- thing better. These are the sanctified points in life that ought to be fastened and toward which the efifort ought to be made. The goal of the heart lies beyond the line of vision. It is not satisfied with the narrow boundaries of the earth. It sweeps the very last circle of the globe and still cries for something more than the riches of earth can give. Every heart makes theology, and writes philosophy, and repeats to itself great and governing princi- ples. There are holy moments when the soul is set at liberty and rises to the association of the 66 LIFE'S PROGRESS i -i brotherhood of angels. The best that is in us is all surrendered to a higher purpose, nobler exist- ence, better preparation for the eternal future. We shake our chains like a slave who has tasted of lib- erty and longs to be free from his bondage. It is possible for a man to spend the whole circle of his days here upon earth under the controlling and elevating power of such a sacred ambition. His hand seizes the better and clings to it until a verdict of justice declares his eternal right to its posses- sion. The most subtle temptation to which man is subjected is to search for small things, to be guided by a low purpose to do that which ten thousand lesser creatures are capable of doing, and to neglect the special faculty, and grander task, and most im- portant part in the plan of the ages. Cleopatra said to Mark Antony, " It is not for you to be fish- ing for gudgeon, but to be taking forts, and towns, and citadels." A king ought not to be building a hut, or even a palace, but an empire. A sublime and absorbing purpose challenges even the impos- sible to hinder a Homer or a Milton. The secret of growth, and progress, and triumph is discov- ered at the heart of the motive, the ambition and the purpose. How often bright, and generous, and 67 LIFE'S PROGRESS I noble young manhood, with ancestry and educa- tion pushing it forward, has failed in making any visible progress by virtue of having chosen down- ward instead of upward. Life's occupation meant grasping avariciousness, meanness, miserliness, and the destruction of all magnanimity and generosity. A money-making scheme and nothing else resulted in a money-making machine and nothing else. A vocation which narrows and dwarfs, and paralyzes the best that is in us, and is deaf to every cry of the soul, is an unworthy profession and ruinous in its result. The first consideration in the choice of an occupation should be its effect upon character. The question which ought to be thrust into its very heart is, Does it lead upward? If it does not, noble manhood must forever reply, It shall not be my star or my guide. Life's ambition, to be worthy, must have something higher in it than mere wealth, or fame, or pleasure. Real values are only found in character. Manhood must overtop position. Manhood is greater than career. He is king only who is above his calling. Old and blind, he feels his way into the gallery, and, with uplifted face, passes his hand over the Torso of Phidias, and the Cardinal hears Michael Angelo say: ** Great is this 03 LIFE'S PROGRESS marble; greater still the band tbat carved it; great- est of all tbe God wbo fasbioned tbe sculptor. I still learn; I still learn." Tbink of tbis great genius, but do not forget tbat tbe masterpiece of bis life was tbe carving of a magnificent purpose. He was never satisfied. He was willing to plod and toil for seven long years, decorating tbe Sistine Cbapel witb bis immortal " Last Judgment " and "Story of tbe Creation," until tbe muscles and cbords of his neck were forced into such rigidity tbat he could not look down without bending his body. For weeks at a time be carried bis bread witb him on tbe scaffold and worked while he ate, so tbat not a moment should be lost. For days his clothes remained upon bis body and bis eyes refused sleep. A block of marble was always in bis sleeping-room. The chisel and mallet were ever ready, and the call of a new idea was never disobeyed. This was tbe man who immortalized himself in tbe world of art and yet, after be was three score years and ten, cried, " I am learning! I am learning! " His educa- tion was never finished. His ambition was always ahead of him. We read the wonderful romance which came from tbe genius and toil of Hawthorne £ind are unfamiliar with its almost tragical history. 69 LIFE'S PROGRESS The *' Scarlet Letter " was written in its author's own hlood. That feHcity of expression and beauty of diction was the result of almost inconceivable efforts toward the purpose of his heart. For twenty years he worked on unrecognized and un- known in this and other books. Some of them he burned; some of them were torn in shreds; some of them were the combination of a score of note- books. A thousand sources centering in the same stream. It is this sublime purpose as the control- ling force of a man's life vNdiich is his inspiration and his elevation. It compels the world to recognize its owner's worth. They refused Hawthorne, but it was necessarily a momentary refusal. Time, with drawn sword, stood by as his companion. In the old country parsonage Judge Field committed to mem- ory the Decalogue and learned the great principles of justice, and formulated his determination to be absolutely just himself and to give his life in secur- ing justice for his fellow men. Circumstances were unable to hinder his ambition. Money was not h inheritance, nor were his opportunities the besi After repeated struggle, the young lawyer arrived in San Francisco in 1849 with only ten dollars in his pocket. His experience in the mining-camps and 70 LIFE'S I'ROGRESS administering justice to the ruffians with whom he was conipeiled to live was a post-graduate course in his education. His privations, and escapes, and exposures were many and startling. It was a diffi- cult undertaking to administer and execute law among outlaws. He began his judicial career be- hind a drygoods box surmounted by tallow candles. He faced guns, and received infernal-machines, and passed through most exciting and perilous scenes. It was a long training of hardship and misrepre- sentation and violence, but even the flash of the assassin's knife revealed the marks of nobility upon every one of his features. That purpose led him on until he occupied a position from which he could defy legislatures and Congress, and he did not falter in defying the world when he knew he was right. Hardship was his blessing, because a worthy pur- pose was his salvation. That is the history of every career of justice and ascendency of manhood. Prog- ress through opposition is one of life's best les- sons. This great truth gives value to life and in- spiration to service. What the germ may be is the protection for It. The future of the boy is his guai 'ian in the present. No great sacrifice is made for 11 if he is regarded as a mere animal, to eat, 71 i^ LIFE'S PROGRESS III li iiii and sleep, and die. But if this crude casket of the physical carries a jewel of highest value, it is most precious and treasured for what it holds. If in the child life there is the beginning of a philosopher, or a philanthropist, or teacher, or artist, or scholar, or noblest character, no care is too great and no labor too exacting. Prayer and effort converge toward this one point in the world. The present is re- garded as the future, and the climax of an endless life is sufficient inspiration. One October after- noon, while Wendell Phillips was in his offtce, he formulated the purpose of his life. It was some- thing of a sudden inspiration, and came in a strange pathway. There was a disturbance in the strf^t; he threw open the window and saw the mob abus- ing Garrison. He heard their blows, and kicks, and curses, and watched them dragging him toward the jail. That night the young lawyer was sleepless. His thoughts were ever upon the cruelty of the mob and the wTongs of his fellow men. He asked himself a thousand times the question, What is lib- erty? He saw visions and heard roices, and that morning was the morning hour of his life. Every other dream now perished. He made the holy de- cision to deny himself every comfort and all ease 72 [i ) LIFE'S PROGRESS 1 and follow where the voice divine summoned him. In Faneuil Hall was the first critical moment. He must speak or die. The murderers of Lovejoy were being justified. " Mr. Chairman," he said, " when I hear the gentlemen lay down principles which place the murderers of Alton side by side with Otis and Hancock, with Quincy and Adams, I thought those pictured lips would have broken into voice to rebuke the recreant American for the slan- dering of the dead." Those sentences, which burned into the souls of his fellow men, thrust him into the foremost rank of the world's orators and patriots. That was the beginning, but not the ending. Hatred, and revilings. and insults were a large part of his life, but the very men who once would have killed him were afterward ready to build his mon- ument. It was that magnificent purpose which made his progressive life and gave him triumph above his fellows. At every step of the upward movement purpose must find its sweetest and constant companionship in an undaunted will. A hard battle is preparation for a harder one. One victory is the forerunner of another struggle. Blessed is the man who is reso- lute, aggressive, and persistent in this advance 73 LIFE'S PROGRESS movement. He is already in the hospital and on his way to a near-by grave who is resting on his laurels. Character is made by the process of de- velopment, and not in a sudden or great accretion. The best in every man comes at greatest cost. There are athletes in religion, and every Daniel has been in training for the lion's den. The old imperial guards have been on other fields before they made the tremendous charge at Waterloo. Character is like knowledge, and man must give it to others to have it best himself. Self-denial is self-increase. Strange doctrine, but the richest, ripest element in character. There is a great and active principle in life which declares that having is not mere possession. Passive possession is the grasp of the palsied hand of the mendicant. To have is to use and to increase. Real possession is receiving more and more. *' To him that hath shall be given." This is a universal law. There is nu impunity in its violation. It is a characteristic of any organism that use holds the secret of its de- velopment. Activity is the condition of growth. A machine wears out by use. Life is dependent upon exercise. It is the element which adds to the power already possessed. The tree spends its 74 1* LIFE'S PROGRESS strength against the wind and storm, but it is the best possible investment and pays the largest divi- dends. The human body is made robust, and healthful, and muscular, and beautiful by proper exercise and seeming expenditure. The impossible of to-day becomes the easy task of to-morrow. Giving is keeping. Losing is saving in the divine economy. He who does not master an inheritance and rightly use it loses it. Whatever effort was necessary in getting property is balanced by the effort in keeping it. Wise investment is not easy, but positively essential. Indolence will always lose. Even money does not change hands easily. It is at tremendous risk. Its continuous value and se- curity depend upon its righteous use. Not using anything is losing. A man must work his intel- lectual force if there is to be growth of those sacred faculties. Brain power increases by expenditure, by action, by strain, by toil. The idler dwarfs and paralyzes the best that is in him. There is only one royal road over which progress moves. It is the way of giving, of action, of using, of expenditure, of sacrifice. There is no other progress. The gaining, growing, godly life must be the sacrificial life. Mankind is afraid to put this great principle into 7$ I LIFE'S PROGRESS operation. His will becomes frightened before it. He fails to realize that forward movement is only along this line. He who becomes frightened before obstacles and gives up easily, loses all. Progress in life and character depends upon a vigorous will, meeting even sacrifice without fear. Lofty posi- tions and real riches are only gained by a refusal to ever repeat the word impossible. " It is not a * lucky word,' this same impossible," says Carlyle. No good comes of those who have it often in their mouth. Who is he that says always there is a lion in the way? Sluggard, thou must slay the lion then. The way is to be travelled. Poetry demon- strated to be impossible arises the Burns, arises the Goethe. In heroic, commonplace being, now clearly all we have to look for, comes the Napoleon, comes the conquest of the world. It was proved by fluxionary calculus that steamships could never get across from the farthest point of Ireland to the nearest of Newfoundland. Impelling force, resist- ing force, maximum here minimum there, by law of nature and geometric demonstrations, proved what could be done. The Great Western could weigh anchor from Bristol port, that could be done. The Great Western bounding safe through the gul- 76 i I t LIFE'S PROGRESS e it. only efore jss in will} posi- efusal not a arlyle. 1 their a lion le lion emon- ses the , now )oleon, roved never to the resist- Iby law proved could done, e gul- m lets of the Hudson threw her cable out on the capstan of New York and left our still moist paper demonstration to dry itself at leisure. " Impossi- ble," cried Mirabeau, to his secretary. " Never name to me that blockhead of a word." Welling- ton once exclaimed: "Impossible. Is anything im- possible? Read the newspapers." Napoleon declared that impossible is not a French word. Here is a fragment of history: " It is February, 1492. A poor man, with gray hair, disheartened and dejected, is going out of the gate from the beautiful Alhambra, in Granada, on a mule. Ever since he was a boy he has been haunted with the idea that the earth is round. He has believed that the pieces of carved wood, picked up four hundred miles at sea, and the bodies of two men, unlike any other human beings known, found on the shores of Portugal, have drifted from un- known lands in the West. But his last hope of obtaining aid for a voyage of discovery has failed. King John of Portugal, under pretence of helping him, has secretly set out on an expedition of his own. His friends have abandoned him; he has begged bread; has drawn maps to keep himself from starving, and lost his wife; his friends have 77 ^ -.|r-r)-!---- ■•! -^ f ^f Ultmm f tf g - iiM i t.,n. i mi>. ■■ * *■! < < i n pit< LIFE'S PROGRESS r called him crazy, and have forsaken him. The council of wise men, called by Ferdinand and Isa- bella, ridicule his theory of reaching the east by sailing west. " But the sun and moon are round," replies Columbus, " why not the earth? " " If the earth is a ball, what holds it up? " the wise men ask. "What holds the sun and moon up?" Columbus replies. A learned doctor asks, " How can men walk with their heads hanging down and their feet up, like flies on a ceiling? " " How can trees grow with their roots in the air? " " The water would run out of the ponds and we should fall ofif," says an- other. " The doctrine is contrary to the Bible, which says, * The heavens are stretched out like a tent.' " " Of course it is flat; it is rank heresy to say it is round." He has waited seven long years. He has had his last interview hoping to get assistance from Fer- dinand and Isabella after they drive the Moors out of Spain. Isabella was almost persuaded, but finally refused. He is now old, his last hope has fled; the ambition of his life has failed. He hears a voice calling him. He looks back and sees an old friend pursuing him on a horse, and beckoning him 78 LIFE'S PROGRESS to come back. He saw Columbus turn away from the Alhambra, disheartened, and he hastens to the Queen and tells her what a great thing it would be, at a trifling expense, if what the sailor believes should prove true. " It shall be done," Isabella re- plies. " I will pledge my jewels to raise the money; call him back." Columbus turns back, and with him turns the world. Three frail vessels, little larger than fishing-boats, the " Santa Maria," the " Pinta," and the '* Nina," set sail from Palos, August 3, 1492, for an unknown land, upon untried seas; the sailors would not vol- unteer, but were forced to go by the King. Friends ridiculed them for following a crazy man to cer- tain destruction, for they believed the sea beyond the Canaries was boiling-hot. " What if the earth is round? " they said, '' and you sail down the other side, how can you get back again? Can ships sail up hill?" Only three days out, the " Pinta's " signal of distress is flying; she has broken her rudder. September 8 th^y discover a broken mast covered with seaweed floating in the sea. Terror seizes the sailors, but Columbus calms their fears with pic- tures of gold and precious stones of India. Septem- 79 LIFE'S PROGRESS ber 13, two hundred miles west of the Canaries, Columbus is horrified to find that the compass, his only guide, is failing him, and no longer points to the north star. No one has yet dreamed that the earth turns on its axis. The sailors are ready for mutiny, but Columbus tells them the north star is not exactly in the north. October i, they are two thousand three hundred miles from land, though Columbus tells the sailors one thousand seven hundred. Columbus discovers a bush in the sea with berries on it, and soon they see birds and a piece of carved wood. At sunset, the crew kneel upon the deck and chant the vesper hymn. It is sixty-seven days since they left Palos, and they have sailed nearly three thousand miles, only changing their course once. At ten o'clock at night, they see a light ahead, but it vanishes. Two o'clock in the morning, October 12, Rodengo de Friana, on watch at the masthead of the " Pinta," shouts "Land! land! land!" The sailors are wild with joy, and throw themselves on their knees before Columbus, and ask forgiveness. They reach the shore, and the hero of the world's greatest expedi- tion unfolds the flag of Spain and takes posses- sion of the new world. Perhaps no greater honor 80 LIFE'S PROGRESS was ever paid man than Columbus received on his return to Ferdinand and Isabella. Yet, after his second visit to the land he discovered, he was taken back to Spain in chains, and finally died in poverty and neglect, while a pickle dealer of Seville, who had never risen above second-mate on a fishing vessel, Amerigo Vespucci, gave his name to the new world. Amerigo's name was put on an old chart or sketch to indicate the point of land where he landed, five years after Columbus discovered the country, and this crept into print by accident." The new worlds and great continents of life and character are all discovered like that. The world may fail in its recognition and reward, but a noble purpose and an iron will have ever accomplished their mission and been the greatest blessing to the world and of the most resplendent glory in heaven. There may appear sometimes in life a retrograde movement. The progress of the race is marked with fluctuations, sometimes strange and unac- countable. There has not been steady advance in one direction. There have been reverses and set- backs, but always overcome by the stronger force. Civilization after civilization has appeared and ad- vanced and disappeared. The march has been over 81 TT I LIFE'S PROGRESS the graves of once prosperous and victorious na- tions. We are now building on the ruins of Assyria, Babylon, Nineveh, Egypt, and Rome, but this day is the best of all, and the march is forward. So in the life of the individual there are backward steps and seeming fatal disasters, but recovery was pos- sible and the darkness the beginning of dawn. That day multiplied the number of miles which had been lost by two, and the journey was again in new and beautiful country and toward the triumphal arch. Retrogression is an essential element of progress. It is repentance before salvation. It is a falling down sometimes in order to rise. There is a cer- tain preparation which precedes visible progress. A John the Baptist before the Christ. These are the hours for patience; the winter plays as much a part in the harvests of the world as does the sum- mer. There is forward movement, but not always recognized by careless observers. The silent growth and development of each day is preparatory to the sudden appearance of progress. There is work done in the darkness before the seed comes to the surface. Under the snow there is life and the con- servation of energy which makes for golden grana- ries, and loaded orchards, and blooming gardens, 82 Is LIFE'S PROGRESS and richly carpeted meadows. There is an unseen progress. The demands of vision should not give birth to doubt or discouragement. The best that is in us moves silently and slowly toward its goal. Unseen growth is nevertheless forward movement. There is also a wise forgetfulness in order to progress. There is an impulse forward in forgetting the things behind. Regrets, and failures, and ob- stacles are chains upon human feet. Break these shackles and change slowness into fleetness, doubt into faith, blindness into vision, disc- »uragement into hope, weariness into strength. Forget mis- takes. Organize victories out of failures. The innocence of childhood is lost, but sadness will not restore it. The folly of youth is at last recognized, but " might have beens " never won victories. Even the losses of manhood are not overcome by brooding upon them. With earnest and enthusi- astic spirit face the future. On, on, is the watch- word! " Not backward so our glances bent, But onward to our father's home." The tragedy of life is in brightest beginning and splendid achievement stopped and wrecked on the way to everlasting triumph. Courage insufficient 83 ^ LIFE'S PROGRESS pt '! I> and will frightened by hinderance become the cause of saddest failure. A little child living almost in the shadow of a mountain thought of its cloud-capped summit as if it belonged to heaven rather than to earth. " Mother," he asked one day, " could anybody climb to the very top of the mountain? " The mother smiled. '* Why, yes, dear," she answered. " All that one would need is to keep right on climb- ing. You can get almost anywhere by taking steps enough." The words lingered in the boy's mem- ory. Years after, he found himself destitute of the very rudiments of an education. Yet in his heart was a thirst for knowledge which made his igno- rance almost unendurable. And then into his mind flashed his mother's words, " You can get almost anywhere by taking steps enough." He brought a spelling-book and a rudimentary arithmetic, and began his upward climb. It took many " steps," and the way was not always smooth. Yet he reso- lutely kept on. Beginning his education after his twenty-first birthday, and amid countless discour- agements, to-day he holds an important professor- ship in one of the foremost universities of the coun- try. 84 LIFE'S PROGRMSS )S, ;so- his )ur- ;or- mn- Some years ajjo a vessel was wrecked on one of the South Sea Islands, and the owners were de- pendent upon an account of the shipwreck written in the dialect of the Indians to secure their insur- ance. But who could translate it? The paper was submitted to the professors of Harvard and Yale, but no one was equal to the task. There was a young blacksmith in the city of Worcester, Mass., however, who thought he could translate it. The dialect was not familiar to him, but, give him time to study the manuscript, and he could make a trans- lation, and he did. That young man was Elihu Bur- ritt, who learned his trade at his father's forge in Connecticut, and was then achieving success at " the flaming forge of life." By almost incredible self-denials and hardships, foregoing pleasure and ease, often reducing sleep and food to the lowest fraction, as economical of his time as he was obliged to be with his money, and with a will that never knew defeat, he "got there." A very successful business man says, " The things that count in the great struggle for prosperity are the old-fashioned qualities of honesty, a noble purpose, sobriety, in- dustry, economy, and push." Burritt had these, and won. 8s IT 1 I LIFE'S PROGRESS lif " I count this thing to be grandly true, That a noble deed is a step toward God. Lifting the soul from the common clod To a purer air and a broader view. We rise by the things that are under our feet By what we have mastered of good or gain, By the pride deposed and ihe passion slain And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet." The wonders accomplished by t\v^ few reveal the supreme possibilities for all. The artist paints, and the poet sings, and the musician plays, and the orator thrills, but it is your achievement. It is the human voice, and the human brain, and the human skill at its best here to tell all men of the bright hope in the future; of the power needed to be real- ized in immortality and redemption. The eleva- tion of the one is the bright star of revelation for the many. The meaning of life is progress, growth, better, brighter, richer days. The way lies upward. The path is a mountainous one. The hinderances shall weaken and the burdens lighten. The best that is in man shall go toward its perfection. As character grows the faults and failures weaken. The very increase of the one means the decrease of the other. The weeds in the field are first cut and mangled by the hoe, but afterward the shadow of 86 • LIFE'S PROGRESS lI the ,, and 1 the is the luman fright real- eleva- on for owth, ,:)war(l. ranees He best n. As eaken. ease of :ut and dow of the corn does the work, silently but more effect- ively. Growing stems of corn are death to weeds. This is a beneficent and encouraging factor in hu- man progress. Christian graces are never bought, but always grow. They are not articles of the fac- tory, but of the field. The Church does not keep them as its wares, and even prayer will not avail us in securing them. The) are cultivated and grown according to the eternal laws of life. Faith, hope, and love are not carried to a man in the hands of answered prayer. The principles of life declare that time, and energy, and service, and suffering enter into every element of noble character. They may sprout quickly, but it is a long process and many a storm before the oak of highest manhood. There may be progress in pruning. Life may be increased by cutting off some worthless branches. There is a putting off which wisely accompanies the putting on. Death is thus followed by higher lif!^, more beauty, better fruit. This work is suc- cessfully done only when accompanied by the rein- vigoration of the divine spirit. The new nature may be implanted, but it is a subject of nourish- ment and renewal. The energy of the spirit of God is its support. The upper forces in the natural 87 LIFE'S PROGRESS i ' world brought the best out of the seed in flower and fruit. So there is an agency above man which works in him and with him in bringing the very best out of his Hfe. The moral light of the eternal Son seizes a man and lifts him up into greater stature and strength. Here is an ugly root with no form or comeliness, and with no apparent future of beauty or value. The imagination even fails to place worth in it. You carelessly trample upon it and it utters a cry heard somewhere, " Shame, shame, wait until the warmth of the springtime and all the forces of nature have been my benefactors and I will add fragrance, and beauty, and even joy, to the world." Out of the blackest and smallest root flowers are growing everywhere as a mockery to our wisdom and understanding. The crooked root spells out in the complicated twists of its un- attractiveness the combination of prophetic words, *• It doth not appear what I shall be." A traveller among the mountains of Madeira set out for a distant summit, but was soon lost in a thick mist. He would have despaired, but his guide kept calling out from before, *' Press on, master; press on; there's light beyond." When God calls 88 t 4 LIFE'S PROGRESS wcr iiich very ;rna\ sater with iiture ils to )on it hame, le and 'actors ;n joy, iiallest ockery ookcd liis un- 1 words, jira set 1st in a IS guide Imaster; )d calls out, " Be strong; I am with you," we need not fear. As the old Eastern proverb has it, " With time and patience the mulberry leaf becomes satin." Years ago, Mr. Beecher preached to his young people after this manner: " O impatient ones, did the leaves say nothing to you as you came hither to-day? They were not created this spring, but months ago. At the bottom of every leaf-stem is a cradle, and in it is an infant germ; and the winds vill rock it, and the birds will sing to it all sum- irer long, and next season it will unfold. So God is working for you and carrying forward to perfect development all the processes of your lives." And as if he had fitted it on to the thought, George Mac- Donald said, " God cr.'i afford to wait; why cannot we, since we have Him to fall back upon? " In the new military tactics there is a mancruvre, " advancing by rushes." In this the soldiers rush forward for a short distance and then drop to the ground, repeating this course until the charge is ended. The manoeuvre is supposed to give the men respite from the fierceness of the enemy's fire. So when the great charge toward San Juan's heights began, the order was given, " Advance by 80 r LIFE'S PROGRESS i rushes," and for a part of the distance was exe- cuted. But the Spaniards seemed to secure the range of the Americans, halting as well as advancing, and our losses were constantly growing greater. Half-way up the hill a commander gave the order for another rush. The bugler, seeing the fearful devastation that was being wrought in.our ranks by the Spanish fire, sounded instead, the " long charge." On the instant the soldiers leaped to their feet and began that unremitting advance toward the enemy's lines that has become historic and unsurpassed in the annals of great assaults. Life is the " long charge," and uphill, but our commander is the triumphant victor. 90 A Christian mans heart is laid in the loom of time to a pattern which he does not see, but God does ; and his heart is a shuttle. On one side of the loom is sorroiv and on the other is joy^ and the shuttle, struck alternately by each, flies back and forth carrying the thread which is white or black as the pattern needs. And in the end, when God shall lift up the finished garment and all its changing hues shall glance out it will then appear that the deep and dark colors were ai ueed/ul to beauty as the bright and high colors. — Beecher. That blessed mood In which the burden of the mystery, in which the heavy and weary weight Of all this unintelligible world, is lightentl. — Wordsworth. God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform ; He plants His footsteps on the sea And rides upon the storm. — COWPER. Behind a frowning Providence He hides a shining fice. — CowPER. 91 T IV LIFE'S MYSTERY The other name for life is mystery. Life is only a convenient term for a mysterious something, never defined, nor analyzed, nor understood. We speak the familiar word with an appearance of wisdom, but it is clouded with densest darkness and igno- rance. Even the separate events of our earthly existence are clothed with the garments of unan- swered query, " why " — " what " — '* when " — and only the echo comes back. Frequently the divine commands are issued without explanation and be- yond the possibility of human comprehension. The pathway is through night, and forest, and peril. When that old-Lime hero of faith and obedience re- ceived the strange and startling order from heaven to leave his home and possessions and friends and journey to a country of which he did not know, but must discover and adopt as his own, he began that famous career which reached its climax of mys- tIw LIFE'S MYSTERY tery and loyalty on the mountain-side when he laid his only son on the altar of sacrifice and learned, best of any man, the meaning of the Father's rela- tion to the atonement on Calvary. How it must have stunned his heart and turned the last dark hair snow-white to hear the familiar voice — " Abraham." He instantly replied, " Here I am." Then strange, overwhelming demand! God said: " Take thy son, thy only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah and offer him there as a burnt offering." When he re- covered from the first shock, preparation was made and the journey began. No voice answered the oft-repeated questions in the deeps of his soul, but the mystery thickened and closed in upon him as he lovingly pressed his boy's hand and led him through the darkness. The heart of the one was as heroic as that of the other. When the faithful son made himself a willing sacrifice, without any light from human reason, he placed one of the most har- monious notes in the music of the world's redemp- tion. The kingliest attitude of man is the acceptance of mystery with unconditioned obedience. Even the Son of God never rose higher than when He 93 «««»" r •«etvr;*ww»Mi LIFE'S MYSTERY said: *' Let the cup pass." " Nevertheless not my will." This element of mystery is universal, and en- circles every life. It is necessary because of the tangled intricacies of life and the narrow range of human vision and the preeminence, but not prom- inence, of the spiritual. There are moments in life when the sentences are all ended with interroga- tion-points. Why did the business come to bank- ruptcy and compel the banishment of hope and shatter the plans of life into atoms? Honesty, and sacrifice, and industry were partners in the concern, and they were unable to save it from wreck. Why did this beautiful child die when there are hundreds of orphans and cripples who live as burdenf to themselves and to others? Why was this holiest purp'>se of a human heart thwarted? Why was that sublime sacrifice destroyed in the bud? Why is sin triumphant and righteousness ever defeated? There is no word in the vocabulary so full of life and stub- bornness as the familiar " why." O unexplorable and crushing mystery of every-day life. A single glance at the features of any company of people reveals the fact that each countenance carries a hid- den mystery. The child in its mother's arms, the old man on his staflf, the young man and maiden, 94 LIFE'S MYSTERY the man and woman on the hilltop, all are marked with the puzzling problems of life. What broken hearts, what concealed experiences, what forced smiles, what protestations of joy which tell too much, — happy, but the heart is the home of grief, and burning grief. Tears do not fall, but they are, nevertheless, increasing in the hidden receptacle, and the increase is in bitterness. Every man carries his own secret and own mystery. His life goes on in dreaming, and thinking, and scheming, and plan- ning, and efYort for perfection, and the dawning of the clearer day is still delayed. He is a mystery to himself and a mystery to others. At one time his acquaintances would not believe that it was ever possible for the rich man to become poor. His numbers were thousands and millions. It was a veritable fortress; even God's lightning and thun- der seemed helpless before it. He sat in his security and gloated over his enormous fortune and abso- lute independence. He rejoices in the fact that friends flatter and serve him and beggars crouch before him, while the world apparently revolves about his life as the centre. Strange, mysterious world; his fortress is made of paper; his strength is weakness; his riches are like a dewdrop; it reflects 95 f If LIFE'S MYSTERY a world, but a single gust of opposing wind scatters it forever. The man of giant-like proportions and strength, who never knew feebleness, stands in the pride and security of his magnificent health and power of endurance; erect, energetic, lithe, and an overabundance of life and cheer, but he lives in a world which knows transformation great enough to make that elephantine man subject of a child's assistance. If no other forces enter in to destroy the impregnable rock of his mighty strength, time is sufficient, and thrusts the cane in his hand and the glasses upon his eye, and weakness into every drop of blood which moves slowly through vein and artery. The years often create anxiety to " shuffle off this mortal coil." What a startling change! We have known of men of greatest in- tellect and most critical judgment unable to give a rational decision upon any subject. Not able to write their own names or read their own letters. Reason is godlike, but mystery of mysteries, the great intellect is the subject of ravages sufficient to destroy even the shadow of its former power. It is a victorious hour and an epoch-making time when a man discovers his true condition, and the necessity of mystery in life. He is then able to take 96 LIFE'S MYSTERY to •tling it in- give le to :ters. the ht to It Itime the Itake his bearings and go on and not waste all of his time in unravelling knotty problems and only increasing the tangle. In the Yankee thread exhibit they show you a machine whose work is enumerated as follows: It reels thread on to little wooden spools at the rate of 250 dozen in a day of ten hours, each spool being wrapped with 200 yards of thread. It moves and acts like a sentient being. Eight hoppers are filled with little wooden spools, and the machine starts. It picks a spool out of a hopper, adjusts it on a spindle, reels out 200 yards of thread, cuts it, inserts the end in a nick in the spool that it makes, dumps the finished spool and takes a new one, and repeats this performance all day, in less time than it takes to write about it. The spools are then taken to an- other little machine that rushes them through a contrivance which pastes a label on them that it chops out, pitches the spool into a box, and hurries along in a mad race with the machine reeling the thread. The human reason has not the power of the ma- chine to spool the threads of life. It twists and knots and tangles a few inches of time. It is only in the loom of God and under the divine hand that 97 IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) I 1.0 I.I 1.25 u IIIM ill ^ m ^ m |M 120 1.8 lA. mil 1.6 v] ^ :\ \ y . 4>