OTHER BOOKS BY MRS. SANGSTER. 
 
 Life on High Levels. Familiar Talks on the Con- 
 duct of Life. 12mo. 90 cents. 
 Encouraging chapters for young people on Christian living. 
 
 Maidie's Problem, and One of Themselves. 12mo. 
 75 cents. 
 
 Two stories for girls, with lessons of Christian usefulness in 
 city and country.
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS 
 
 AND 
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGARET E. SANGSTER 
 
 n 
 
 Author of " LIFE ON HIGH LEVELS," " MAIDIE'S PROBLEM," 
 " HOME LIFE MADE BEAUTIFUL," Etc. 
 
 "Bs tbs fca28, so sball tb strength be." 
 " tlnt>crncatb are tbe everlasting arms."
 
 Copyright by 
 
 EATON & MAINS, 
 
 J899. 
 
 EATON & MAINS PRESS. 
 150 Fifth Avenue, New York.
 
 TO 
 
 3S3rotber 
 
 WHO, WITH ME, REMEMBERS REVERENTLY 
 OUR 
 
 ffatbet and dftotber
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. Freedom from Worry I 
 
 II. Repose of Manner IO 
 
 III. When the Children Are Around Us 18 
 
 IV. When the Young People Grow Up 27 
 
 V. Home Reading 34 
 
 VI. Thrift for the Rainy Day 42 
 
 VII. Days of Illness 51 
 
 VIII. Comfort in Sorrow 62 
 
 IX. Looking Forward 73 
 
 X. Music at Home 8l 
 
 XI. Of Beauty and Its Charm 89 
 
 XII. Mothers and Sons 96 
 
 XIII. Linked with Many Lives in 
 
 XIV. The Keeping of Home Anniversaries 129 
 
 XV. The Plant Heart's-ease 138 
 
 XVI. The Easter Joy 148
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XVII. Mornings with the Bible 156 
 
 XVIII. Sweet Hour of Prayer 162 
 
 XIX. GrowingOld 167 
 
 XX. Home Awaiting 172 
 
 XXI. A Study of Angels 181 
 
 XXII. Talking with Our Heavenly Father 202 
 
 XXIII. Devout Women of an Elder Day 214 
 
 XXIV. Daily Problems 230 
 
 XXV. With Level Eyes 245 
 
 XXVI. Young Women and Self-support 254 
 
 XXVII. Counting the Blessings 263 
 
 XXVIII. Looking unto Jesus 271 
 
 XXIX. The Sunny Heart 277 
 
 XXX. Beyond the Horizon's Rim 288 
 
 XXXI. The Habit of Holding On 301 
 
 XXXII. One More Word for Our Girls 306
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Margaret E. Sangster Frontispiece 
 
 " Tucked, Safe and Cozy, into their Beds". ..Facing p. 20 
 
 " Beside the Glowing Hearth ". 4t 36 
 
 " One Little Daughter " " 68 
 
 " Sing in the Evening Twilight, When the 
 
 Shadow of Eve is Nigh " " 86 
 
 The Sewing Meeting ' 126 
 
 " Last at the Cross, and Earliest at the Tomb " " 148 
 
 The Annunciation. (After the Painting by 
 
 D. G. Rossetti.) i g e
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS 
 
 AND 
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 FREEDOM FROM WORRY 
 
 SHE was not young and her path had been 
 rough and steep, this dear little mother whose, 
 sweet face shines upon me, out of the dim past, 
 like a beautiful beaming star. It was a face 
 which kept to old age something of its childish 
 sweetness and eagerness of expression, for to 
 this dear one it was given never to lose the child 
 heart, and it was, and is, unto such as she that 
 our blessed Lord has always revealed the inner 
 meaning of the Kingdom. Wistful and loving 
 and animated, let cares and burdens be ever so 
 numerous, it was hers to know the full blessed- 
 ness of that text, "The beloved of the Lord 
 shall dwell in safety by him." Her sorrows had 
 been many. She had known the exquisite pain
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 of losing her firstborn in his lovely babyhood, 
 she had seen an older laddie stricken down in a 
 moment, and through one never forgotten sum- 
 mer she had watched the gradual decline of 
 another precious son; so that three times the 
 light had been blotted from her sky and the 
 noonday had been as the night. 
 
 Then, from wonderful and elastic health, 
 she had been plunged into the long weariness 
 of an invalid's life. It began with a serious 
 illness which followed closely upon her widow- 
 hood, while her three remaining children were 
 .all very young. That exhausting illness, in 
 which for weeks she hung upon thp border land 
 and which brought her to the very edge of the 
 dark river, so that life seemed to pull her out 
 and back when her feet were cold in the rush- 
 ing flood, and her family, her pastor and her 
 physician had all given her up, left her at last, 
 but with only the fragments of the strong con- 
 stitution she had once had. The twenty-five 
 remaining years were more or less a battle, and 
 she fought that battle with a persistent courage 
 and a quality of cheerfulness which she could 
 never have had if One like unto the Son of God 
 
 had not been ever at her side. 
 2
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 She had been tried also in the crucible of 
 limited means. The house must be kept, the 
 children must be educated, the Lord's tenth 
 must be devoted, and the purse was always nar- 
 row, and sometimes the gray gaunt wolf not 
 only scratched at the door but dared to put his 
 head inside. Never mind. He was always 
 thrust back, and the door slammed boldly in his 
 face. Kith and kin of hers were few but those 
 she had stood by her in loyalty of love and trust, 
 and hers was the spirit of one, her friend, who 
 in similar circumstances said, "I have no fear. 
 If it be necessary for the Lord to work a miracle 
 for my children and me he will do it." 
 
 The barrel of meal did not waste, and the 
 cruse of oil did not fail, though now and then 
 the scoop was scanty and there were but few 
 drops in the flask. The children grew up, there 
 were books around them, they were sent to the 
 best schools; their advantages were not less- 
 ened because their earthly father had left them 
 no fortune except a sunny temperament and a 
 boundless trust in God. 
 
 One great advantage they had, that it never 
 even occurred to them to complain of their lot, 
 to regard self-denial as a hardship, or to apolo-
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 gize for anything in their surroundings. One 
 day a second-hand piano came home. Theii 
 little parlor, with its ingrain carpet, marble- 
 topped table and six haircloth-covered chairs 
 appeared to them a drawing room fit for a queer 
 as indeed it was, for a queen presided over 11 
 and sat there smiling and happy when the little 
 daughter ran her fingers up and down the ivorj 
 keys. 
 
 The grace of freedom from worry was always 
 in that home. 
 
 One evening, at the end of a rather tedious 
 day, when the money was low and the coal ii 
 the bin was also low and winter was sounding 
 his advance in chill blasts of the north wine 
 and fierce tussles of the bare tree boughs, the 
 little mother went to her room for a half hour's 
 rest. She always said that she was lying wide 
 awake, that she had not so much as fallen asleej 
 for an instant, and if we thought that she was 
 mistaken we never told her so; for, whether 11 
 was a dream or whether it was a vision, the Lore 
 of glory vouchsafed a comforting revelation oJ 
 himself by means of it to the handmaid whose 
 chief joy was his service. 
 
 She said she was aware suddenly of a pres- 
 
 4
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 ence in the room. "I looked about," here her 
 blue eyes grew very soft and earnest, "to see if 
 it was M. or Isa, but I had not heard the door 
 open, and the door was shut. Nobody was 
 there. But all above and around me the atmos- 
 phere grew bright, and through the clear bright- 
 ness formed a something still more radiant and 
 golden, bending and brooding over me as I lay 
 in the bed and looked up, and then, sweet and 
 very tender, came a word I heard in my heart 
 just as if a voice had spoken : 
 
 " 'My God shall supply all your need. Be 
 not faithless, but believing/ *' 
 
 Dream or vision, it gave her new strength for 
 the way and she arose and went on, rejoicing in 
 the Lord. 
 
 We hear a good deal in these days about the 
 futility of worry, and there are many who try 
 to live in the peace and serenity which come 
 from abandoning all needless anxiety. But I 
 cannot quite understand how any of us, in this 
 peculiarly changeful world, can live in entire 
 freedom from this scourge unless we follow the 
 apostolic injunction, "In everything by prayer 
 and supplication with thanksgiving let your 
 
 requests be made known unto God." 
 2 5
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 It is the Christian's privilege to meet every 
 situation with an undaunted front, never to be 
 taken by surprise, never to be found off guard. 
 While it is comparatively easy to cease from 
 worry for one's self, we all know how hard it is 
 not to carry vicarious worries. The son, dear 
 as your own life, who loses his position and 
 cannot find another, the daughter, a few years 
 ago like a rose in bloom, so fresh, so fair, now 
 crippled with rheumatism, or failing before 
 your eyes with some relentless and subtle mal- 
 ady which defies medical skill, the husband 
 stricken in his prime with paralysis, and thence- 
 forward all his days compelled to walk softly, 
 the friend bereaved, and unable to rise above 
 the weight of grief, the acquaintance taking a 
 wrong turn in the road, the pastor unappre- 
 ciated in his parish, all the wonderful social 
 network woven around our homes and affections 
 how difficult it is to refrain from worry about 
 these. 
 
 For, you see, sympathy is as much a daily 
 duty as tranquillity, and we are as really bound 
 to fulfill the law of Christ by bearing one an- 
 other's burdens as by cessation from the strain 
 
 of fretting and fussing and fuming, of wearing 

 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOREOWS 
 
 ourselves and our friends out by unavailing 
 care. 
 
 The secret of the blessedness which sets us 
 free to serve is, I am sure, found only in unre- 
 served acceptance of the will of God as best for 
 us and ours, and in daily communion with the 
 Master. Once we have lived into that dear and 
 intimate friendship with Jesus which enables 
 us to feel, without a question, that his will is not 
 only his choice for us but ours too, we step 
 into a land of serenity where never intrudes a 
 single chilling blast of doubt. 
 
 "I know no life divided, 
 O Lord of life, from thee." 
 
 "I would rather walk with God in the dark 
 Than walk alone in the light." 
 
 "Looking to Jesus 
 
 Ever serener, 
 Working or suffering, 
 
 Be thy demeanor." 
 
 There is absolutely no possibility of worry for 
 the soul which thus knows the Lord. 
 
 Of course there are differences of disposition 
 which must be taken into account. Happy are 
 they whom the Lord, from their cradles, has
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 endowed with a capacity for discerning the 
 sun behind the clouds. To see the bright side 
 instinctively is a rare and gracious gift. A 
 man of "cheerful yesterdays and confident to- 
 morrows" is usually a pleasant companion, and 
 a good comrade on the road of life. In Mrs. 
 Oliphant's recently published autobiography 
 the story it is of a very brave and noble life 
 there is a chapter in which she tells how she 
 had come to a crisis in her affairs, and there 
 were a number of helpless people depending on 
 her and her little slender pen. 
 
 "I recollect coming home in a kind of despair 
 and being met at the door, when it was opened 
 to me, by the murmur of the merry house, the 
 cheerful voices, the overflowing home, every 
 corner full and warm as if it had a steady in- 
 come and secure revenue at its back. I used to 
 work very late then, always till two in the morn- 
 ing; I can't remember whether I worked that 
 night, but I think it was one of the darkest 
 nights and I could not think what I should do." 
 
 Next morning came an unexpected visitor, 
 and unexpected help, and "the road did run 
 round that corner after all. Our Father in 
 
 heaven had settled it all the time for the chil- 
 8
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 dren; there had never been any doubt. I was 
 absolutely without hope or help. I did not 
 know where to turn, and here, in a moment, all 
 was clear again the road free in the sunshine, 
 the cloud in a moment rolled away." 
 
 God's dear child ought not to have been with- 
 out hope. There is always blue sky some- 
 where, and all things are always working to- 
 gether for good to those who love God. The 
 peace that passeth all understanding shall keep 
 us, as the sentry keeps the camp, if we but trust 
 and obey.
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 REPOSE OF MANNER 
 
 EVEN if one is conscious of agitation and tur- 
 moil underneath, there is a distinct gain in its 
 control by the cultivation of repose of manner. 
 Largely this may be a matter of habit, and one 
 may so discipline her muscles, and so accustom 
 them to obedience, that she will repress the pet- 
 ulant frown, forbid her lips the down-drooping 
 curve, and train her body to express ease and 
 quiet rather than impatience and irritability. 
 The dignity of a tranquil demeanor so far ex- 
 ceeds the opposite lack of poise which is 
 shown in undue emphasis, in jerky movements, 
 and frequent complaint, that for its mere 
 beauty, aside from its ethical value, one should 
 seek its possession. All the varieties of scold- 
 ing, nagging, fault-finding, and bemoaning 
 one's fate, born of insufficient self-respect and 
 of intermittent self-control, are impossible to 
 her who has made repose her garment of de- 
 fense, her chain armor, against the world. 
 10
 
 TRUSTFU.L TO-MORROWS 
 
 A good deal of our flurried and perturbed 
 manner we owe to our tendency to indulge in 
 both work and play beyond our strength. We 
 do not know when to stop. We carry our golf- 
 ing, our skating, our tennis, our driving, riding 
 and walking to such an extent that instead of 
 adding to our stock of health they exhaust it; 
 and if this be true of recreation it is still more 
 true of work. The mother is sewing on the lit- 
 tle frock, and it must be finished by Saturday 
 night. The frills and puffs and tucks are so 
 elaborate that the sewing on the small maiden's 
 Sabbath raiment is appalling if one remembers 
 the drain that fine stitching makes on a not 
 over-vigorous woman, so that she feels at last 
 as if a sudden step on the floor or an unexpected 
 question would make her scream or jump. Two 
 questions arise : Why should a child's frock be 
 other than simple? A plain little smock with 
 no elaboration of ornament, with only a deep 
 hem, is appropriate for any little girl, be her 
 station what it may. The washerwoman's 
 daughter and the queen's, during those happy 
 years between three and twelve, should so far 
 as style is concerned be dressed precisely alike. 
 
 Then, why must the frock be done by a certain 
 11
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 hour ; why must there be a new frock always for 
 Sunday's wearing? Few small maidens are 
 without a change of clothing, and all that is 
 requisite for church and Sunday school is some- 
 thing whole and clean, dainty from the laundry 
 or the wardrobe, but not necessarily new. The 
 mother would do far better for herself and her 
 child by stopping her work before she is very 
 tired, and by saving her nervous force for the 
 pleasure of her home life. 
 
 Many a cross word is needlessly spoken, many 
 a jarring chord is struck, many a time the 
 wheels of the household grate harshly along the 
 road, because there is friction in the mother's 
 temper. The temper which is adjusted to the 
 day, which is fine-edged and keen yet never 
 morose, which meets every difficulty with a 
 brave spirit and never prints itself on a clouded 
 countenance, is worth having, worth striving 
 for, worth praying for day by day. If we can 
 gain repose nowhere else we can find it in the 
 little sanctuary of the closet. 
 
 "I always knew when mother had been talk- 
 ing with God," said a man whose Christian life 
 was full of sweetness and who was widely in- 
 fluential. "She had a little room at the end of 
 12
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 the hall, and when she went in and shut fast 
 the door we children walked softly past, for we 
 knew that in there our mother was kneeling at 
 the mercy seat." When she came forth her face 
 shone. 
 
 Another and contrasting picture comes to my 
 mind. "I never was intimate with my mother, 
 nor anything but afraid of her until I was 
 eighteen years old," said a lady, a shadow of 
 pain on her face. "Before my birth mother had 
 had a great grief and she turned away from 
 God. Her looks were always severe, and she 
 was cold to her children though I do think she 
 loved them." 
 
 A woman who in middle life retains the fresh- 
 ness of girlhood in her complexion, and its grace 
 in her step, whose face is the mirror of a beauti- 
 ful soul, was one day asked how, during a long 
 experience of physical suffering, she had kept 
 herself from outward appearance of distress, 
 from lines and marks which pain often leaves. 
 "For one thing," she said, "I know my Heaven- 
 ly Father appoints everything, and so I take 
 with joy whatever he sends. Then I know, too, 
 that every trace of impatience in thought 
 
 must leave its finger print on my face, so I 
 13
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 am careful never to look fretful even for a 
 moment." 
 
 We have heard a great deal about the value 
 of relaxation at certain intervals during our 
 busiest days. Do we try it? If I could per- 
 suade you, whose eyes are tired out, to simply 
 fold your hands and close your eyes for five 
 minutes every hour I should soon convince you 
 that the weariness would be greatly relieved. If, 
 now and then, we who cannot take our hands 
 from the domestic helm from the cooking and 
 pickling and preserving, and the management 
 of the house would go by ourselves, sit down 
 in a rocking-chair or lie upon a lounge for fif- 
 teen minutes, allowing the mind to be a blank 
 and the thoughts to fasten upon nothing, while 
 hands and feet cease their clinging hold upon 
 existence and relax as a baby's do, we should dis- 
 cover that there is magic in even these bits of 
 rest between times. And if every busy house- 
 mother would just lie down one hour in the 
 middle of the day, or retire by herself one hour 
 every afternoon and read or think or sleep as 
 she chose, she would live longer and be hap- 
 pier for the experiment. 
 
 Said a wise physician to his wife, "My dear, 
 14
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 there is one thing on which I insist, and it is that 
 you take the hour from three to four every after- 
 noon and keep it for your own needs. Go to 
 your own room and shut everybody out. I shall 
 not intrude upon you ; no one else shall be per- 
 mitted to intrude upon you friend, servant, or 
 child. Be alone then, and do whatever you 
 please, but never intermit your hour of entire 
 freedom and rest." "To this kind provision 
 for my health and comfort," said the wife, long 
 afterward, "I am indebted for my elasticity of 
 mind and body." 
 
 I am not sure how far the multiform public 
 activities of to-day are responsible for the jaded 
 looks and loss of repose visible in some of our 
 friends. To belong to a woman's club, with its 
 agreeable social opportunities, its reading and 
 discussing of literary papers, and its frequent 
 beneficent efforts beyond its doors, is, for many 
 women, an excellent thing; broadening their 
 horizon, and either enlarging their knowledge 
 of current events or refreshing their memories 
 of world movements in the past. But some 
 women belong to three, five, or seven clubs si- 
 multaneously ; others are taxed by an excessive 
 
 amount of church work, a few undertaking and 
 15
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 carrying forward that which should be the task 
 of all. As repose of manner is hardly consist- 
 ent with the mental state which knows the pres- 
 sure of haste, and of too many conflicting en- 
 gagements, it is not to be attained by her who 
 is bound by too strong a tether to boards, asso- 
 ciations and clubs. 
 
 May I repeat for you a beautiful prayer, writ- 
 ten by Eowland Williams ? 
 
 "0 God, who makest cheerfulness the com- 
 panion of strength but apt to take wings in time 
 of sorrow, we humbly beseech thee if, in thy sov- 
 ereign wisdom, thou sendest weakness yet for 
 thy mercy's sake deny us not the comfort of 
 patience. Lay not more upon us, Heavenly 
 Father, than thou wilt enable us to bear; and, 
 since the fretfulness of our spirits is more hurt- 
 ful that the heaviness of our burden, grant us 
 that heavenly calmness which comes of owning 
 thy hand in all things, and patience in fhe trust 
 that thou doest all things well. Amen." 
 
 "Wherever in the world I am, 
 
 In whatsoe'er estate, 
 I have a fellowship with hearts 
 
 To keep and cultivate, 
 A work of lowly love to do 
 
 For the Lord on whom I wait. 
 16
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 "I ask thee for the daily strength 
 
 To none that ask denied, 
 A mind to blend with outward life 
 
 While keeping at thy side ; 
 Content to fill a little space 
 
 If thou be glorified. 
 
 "There are briers besetting every path 
 
 That call for patient care ; 
 There is a cross in every lot, 
 
 And need for earnest prayer ; 
 But a lowly heart that leans on thee 
 
 Is happy anywhere." 
 17
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 WHEN THE CHILDREN ARE AROUND Us 
 
 I DO not think life holds to any lips a sweeter 
 cup, more honey-brimmed, more sparkling, than 
 that the mother tastes when first she holds her 
 little one in her arms. For this divine draught 
 of pleasure she has dared the uttermost waves 
 of anguish, has fought a duel with death, has 
 plunged into depths of weakness and known 
 mysterious perils which only motherhood un- 
 derstands. Yet every woman who has ever borne 
 a babe will tell you that in the supreme hour of 
 victory and joy she remembers the agony no 
 more; it is blotted out by the flood of bliss be- 
 yond language or thought to describe. She and 
 her child, bone of her bone, flesh of her flesh, 
 these two the new human being and the 
 mother who cradled him under her arms before 
 she held him in their tender circle there is in 
 all the world no bond like theirs; there is no 
 glory of happiness which equals that which 
 
 comes to any mother with any baby. 
 18
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 And yet we know of reluctant maternity, and 
 we constantly see women refusing alike its pen- 
 alties and its rewards, committing sin that 
 they may evade it, declining to wear the most 
 honorable of crowns and to assume the most 
 potent of scepters. It is the peculiar loss of 
 some women that they weigh in the balances the 
 inconveniences and burdens of motherhood on 
 the one hand, and its royal privileges on the 
 other, and are afraid, or unwilling, or dis- 
 trustful, and so rob themselves of their most 
 beautiful right. 
 
 There are childless women to whom God has 
 denied the boon of motherhood. When this is 
 his will it is to be accepted without repining, 
 and such women are often compassionate and 
 comprehending toward the children of others; 
 toward the orphan, or the sick, or the poor who 
 need helpers. Wives there are who deliberately 
 choose to have no babes. And this is not always 
 from selfish motives, sometimes it is from those 
 of a high and conscientious order of thought; 
 they fear that they could not rightly guide lit- 
 tle children. As the years pass, when old age 
 arrives, the childless people are the lonely peo- 
 ple, and they are apt to realize that they have 
 19
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 lost some very precious things from life; some 
 wealth which they might have had but which 
 they have missed. 
 
 If one baby is a great delight then how much 
 greater is a full nursery. When the brood is all 
 under the mother's eye and hand at once the 
 care may be incessant yet there is no end to the 
 satisfaction. To see them all started for the 
 day clean and well and dressed and wholesome 
 and happy, to see them all tucked safe and cozy 
 into their beds at night, each bairn with its 
 prayers said and its story of the day told, what 
 can be more thoroughly filled with the essence 
 of homely content ! 
 
 I am often very sorry for the first and for 
 the only child, both being apt to receive an over 
 share of discipline. Not invariably is it the 
 good of the child which the mother seeks when 
 she hedges its pathway with a bristling border 
 of prickly "don'ts" and finds herself at her wit's 
 end to devise original punishments. We are 
 strangely complex, and even a loving mother 
 may occasionally be vain and may reprove and 
 rebuke her child rather because its mistakes 
 wound her vanity than because she is honestly 
 
 seeking the child's benefit. 
 20
 
 CD
 
 TEUSTFUL TO-MORKOWS 
 
 In child nurture perfect candor and confi- 
 dence between mother and children are to be 
 sought beyond every other thing. Spontaneity 
 in a child is dwarfed by the entrance of fear into 
 his heart, and whatever he does or says he 
 should not be afraid to let mother see and hear 
 it. Truth exercised toward a child, the keep- 
 ing of one's word absolutely, the observance of 
 one's promises, and truth maintained in the 
 character, in the child's world there never being 
 admitted a lie that evil growth will go far in 
 preventing a child from falsity. Never ought 
 we to doubt our little one's word. However 
 extraordinary the statement made, however im- 
 probable, I prefer to accept it without hesita- 
 tion if my child make it, remembering, as I do, 
 that a child lives in a wonder world of fancy and 
 that his vocabulary and mine are often different. 
 To doubt a child when others are present is as 
 great an offense as to give the lie to one who is 
 grown up; greater, indeed, because the child is 
 defenseless and forbidden to resent the outrage. 
 
 By every means in our power we should cul- 
 tivate imagination in the little folk around us, 
 for later on this gift of the skies will assist 
 
 them in understanding God. A purely literal 
 3 21
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 mind has always more difficulty in attaining 
 to faith than one in which the ideal predomi- 
 nates. No sensible mother forgets that her lit- 
 tle boy and girl play every day in fairyland, and 
 she does not prohibit them from hearing fairy 
 stories. They should hear the dear old favor- 
 ites, "Cinderella/' "Jack the Giant Killer," 
 "Hop o' My Thumb/' and all the rest, and on 
 the nursery shelf should stand the books of 
 Hans Andersen and the brothers Grimm, and 
 any other volumes of fairy lore which the 
 mother may approve. Alternate these with 
 Bible stories, so that Noah, Moses, David, Dan- 
 iel, Kuth, Nehemiah and Esther may be fa- 
 miliar names to the child, and their lives a part 
 of his mental wealth, and you cannot go astray 
 in beginning their education. Long before a 
 child can read his mind should be well stored 
 with folk lore and Biblical learning. Poetry 
 comes next, and she is wise who recites to her 
 children songs and hymns and ballads worth 
 repeating, filled with the spirit of genuine verse, 
 while the memory most readily receives and 
 most strongly retains impressions. 
 
 Obedience is a corner stone of character build- 
 ing, and we cannot do without it when the chil- 
 22
 
 TEUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 dren are about us, not that we may enforce our 
 own will but that they may learn the first prin- 
 ciples of self-government. Just here some 
 mothers and fathers blunder, insisting on blind 
 subservience because they "say so" instead of 
 building their own authority on that of the 
 Lord. A little child is not a brute beast, and 
 even brute beasts are better trained when their 
 obedience is gained by unvarying gentleness, in 
 accordance with the laws of the road, than when 
 it is compelled by severity and apparent caprice. 
 A dog trained by patient love is a charming 
 comrade ; subdued by arbitrary violence he is a 
 cringing coward. Fortunately, few mothers in 
 these enlightened days believe that a child's will 
 should be broken, though here and there one 
 finds a survivor of a more rigid period who ex- 
 pects to have an issue and a battle royal, or sev- 
 eral of these, before the poor little one learns to 
 bow to the fetich of implicit obedience. 
 
 For its own sake the family must have around 
 it the safeguard of law. Within clearly defined 
 law there is always liberty for the law-keeping. 
 From the very beginning, by gentle inflexibility, 
 the loving mother will direct the little feet 
 
 into the straight path, and by her own example 
 23
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 will show them how simple and sweet a thing 
 is obedience. Whenever the rule of the home 
 is obedience to the Heavenly Father the chil- 
 dren will readily fall into docility towards the 
 earthly parents. 
 
 Our children unconsciously reproduce our 
 tones, our gestures, our ways of thinking and 
 speaking. Imitation, voluntary or involuntary, 
 crystallizes into habit, and habit decides our 
 outward semblance to the world. Take the 
 table, for instance. One's behavior at table 
 shows the effect of good breeding almost un- 
 erringly. The gently bred person is considerate 
 of others at the board, is familiar with the ac- 
 cepted etiquette of the knife, fork, and spoon, 
 eats in moderation and silently, and automatic- 
 ally acknowledges every courtesy with an unob- 
 trusive word of thanks. The boor violates 
 every precept and tramples on our sense of the 
 fitness of things ; yet he may be a man of kind 
 impulses and sterling integrity, unfortunate in 
 having in early youth mingled with those who 
 were ignorant of social usages. Constant and 
 unvarying politeness exercised toward children, 
 as well as exacted from them, will give them an 
 
 ease and grace of bearing which will stand them 
 24
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 in stead when, in the future, they are no longer 
 under the safe shelter of the home roof. Never 
 should a voice be raised in scolding or anger in 
 a home. Dr. David J. Burrell has well said of 
 home that it is neither a prison nor a treadmill, 
 that it is not a place for mere disciplinary proc- 
 esses, that it is to be, as nearly as possibly, a 
 little heaven on earth with the spirit of heaven 
 reigning in it. 
 
 One of the happiest conditions of childhood 
 exists in families where much gracious hospi- 
 tality is part of the household routine. Ian 
 Maclaren says, "The coming of guests revives 
 and enriches the common life, for each has his 
 own tale to tell." The preparation of the guest 
 chamber, of the feast, with the dainty extra 
 touches in linen and silver and the setting forth 
 of the best china, the unstinted welcome, the 
 kindly farewell, are elements of value in the 
 children's upbringing. In some houses com- 
 pany is regarded as an intrusion, and dreaded, 
 and the children never acquire the art of grace- 
 ful entertaining; in others guests are greeted 
 with gladness, and their pleasant presence adds 
 new zest to the ordinary life, and here the chil- 
 dren learn freedom and unselfishness, and taste 
 25
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 the pure joy of making comfortable and at home 
 the stranger within their gates. 
 
 Christina Rossetti, that high priestess of song 
 whose exalted verse often soars into a realm 
 above our lower world and seems to touch the 
 throne of God, wrote many beautiful prayers. 
 One of these is especially suitable for parents 
 and children: 
 
 "Give, I pray thee, to all children grace rever- 
 ently to love their parents and lovingly to obey 
 them. Teach us all that filial duty never ends 
 or lessens ; and bless all parents in their children 
 and children in their parents. thou in whom 
 the fatherless find mercy, make all orphans, I 
 beseech thee, loving and dutiful unto thee, their 
 true Father. Be thy will their law, thy house 
 their home, thy love their inheritance. And, 
 I earnestly pray thee, comfort those who have 
 lost their children, giving mothers grace to be 
 comforted though they are not; and grant us 
 all faith to yield our dearest treasures unto thee 
 with joy and thanksgiving, that where, with 
 thee, our treasure is there our hearts may be 
 also. Thus may we look for and hasten unto 
 the day of union with thee, and of reunion. 
 
 Amen.'* 
 
 26
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 WHEN THE YOUNG PEOPLE GROW Tip 
 
 WHEN the young people, emerging from the 
 chrysalis of childhood, put on the beautiful gar- 
 ments of early maturity the house is full of gay 
 life and pleasure. There is nothing else quite 
 like it. The coming and going of the young 
 men who are at college or in business, and who 
 are eager and ardent, enjoying, aspiring, build- 
 ing for the future, looking out from their plane 
 of strength to the onward march of the days 
 with never a fear nor a doubt, and the girls, so 
 blooming, so sweet, so independent; not the 
 fragile timid creatures who were once the 
 poet's and the romancer's ideal of girlhood, but 
 at once refined and vigorous, trained mentally 
 and physically, educated along lines parallel 
 with their brothers and fitted to be good com- 
 rades for good men on the road of life. Who 
 can see them without enthusiasm and thankful- 
 ness?
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 them a home bright with the charm of well-bred 
 and affectionate young folk this period of their 
 career is marked with a red letter. Everything 
 revolves around these grown children. One 
 must be allowed to go abroad to pursue a longer 
 course of study in Berlin, or Heidelberg, or 
 Paris and, though the strain has already been 
 great, somehow father and mother find a way to 
 help their lad that he may have the post-grad- 
 uate advantages on which his soul is set. An- 
 other has resolved to study art, or to be a trained 
 nurse, and, though the mother has been fondly 
 anticipating the time when her daughter shall 
 again be her daily companion, she interposes no 
 obstacle. Edith's path is smoothed for her, and 
 she goes bravely out upon it, followed by her 
 mother's prayers and loving thoughts. What- 
 ever the young people wish for, in the usual 
 order of things, the parents endeavor to give 
 them, and the only peril is that the average 
 American parent shall become too self-denying 
 and forget to consider what is due to himself. 
 
 In the household which, exceptionally fav- 
 ored, keeps its circle for some years unbroken 
 the young people largely control the social life. 
 
 "We do not invite our own friends any more," 
 28
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 said a mother ; "all summer in the country and 
 all winter in town we are filling the house with 
 their schoolmates and college mates." When 
 school and college are over, still the young are 
 in the ascendant, and too often the mother is 
 gradually crowded out of her own proper place 
 finding herself more and more an unimpor- 
 tant figure, secluded in her room or seated in 
 her rocking-chair in the back parlor. 
 
 Of course, when this happens, the mother has 
 herself to blame. She should not consent to 
 effacement, nor in her admiration for the sons 
 and daughters around her lose sight of the fact 
 that she still has rights and should be honored 
 and considered in the household. Once in a 
 while the young people should be left to take the 
 helm, and the mother, fitted out with the dainty 
 wardrobe and the new shoes and gloves which 
 she sometimes foregoes in favor of her girls, 
 should be sent away for an outing a journey 
 with her husband or a visit to her own girlhood's 
 home. From such an experience she will re- 
 turn to take up the daily duties with new zest 
 and something of the lost delight of youth. 
 
 Perhaps the most important feature in home 
 
 economy, when voung people are on the thresh- 
 29
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 old of life, is the deciding on what they are to 
 be in the busy activities of the world. Formerly 
 Christian parents were prone, as they are not 
 always now, to dedicate a son to the ministry, 
 or a daughter to the mission field. Though, if 
 too arbitrarily insisted upon, such pre-arrange- 
 ment of a child's life might prove a great error 
 in judgment, yet when gifts and graces accom- 
 pany the development of the consecrated one it 
 is quite possible that the path will be smoothed 
 and the work attract the worker. But too much 
 earthly ambition has occasionally entered into 
 even so sacred a covenant, and the resultant 
 disappointment might have been expected. 
 
 A father may naturally desire to have his son 
 take up his own business or profession, and it 
 may be a sore trial to him to discover that the 
 boy's bent is in another direction and that he 
 cannot fit himself into the waiting niche. When 
 the day arrives in which serious work must be 
 undertaken, and the youth must put his own 
 hand to the plough, parents may give judicious 
 and loving counsel, but their -wiser part, having 
 done this, is to stand aside and allow freedom 
 of choice to the new comer on the stage. An 
 
 artist cannot make a successful merchant, a 
 30
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 merchant may not be a writer of books. The 
 thing to comprehend is that all true work, un- 
 dertaken in the right spirit, is honorable if done 
 heartily, as unto the Lord. 
 
 Inevitable changes are foreshadowed in the 
 happy days when the young people grow up. 
 Lovers cross the old home threshold, and, while 
 still the boys and girls seem to the parents but 
 children, lo ! they are finding their mates and 
 beginning a new life of their own. The longer 
 period of school and college work pushes mar- 
 riage a little further on than was common in a 
 not remote past, but so long as youth and health 
 and goodness remain in the world love will rule 
 it ; and it is a beautiful and appropriate conclu- 
 sion to the preparatory phases of the individual 
 when he becomes the wooer, or she the wooed. 
 
 Part of a mother's obligation should be to 
 make ready her girls and boys for the home 
 keeping of days to come. When we indulge our 
 young people in selfishness, through our own 
 over fondness or over tendency to self-abnega- 
 tion, we are rendering them distinctly unfit to 
 be the custodians of others' happiness when they 
 are beyond our hand. I do not think that a 
 
 boy is less manly for knowing how to help his 
 31
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 mother with her peculiarly feminine tasks. 
 Why should not a hoy be allowed to aid in wash- 
 ing dishes, in ironing, in cooking, and in sweep- 
 ing, even in mending, and in stitching on the 
 machine ? Acquaintance with these homely ac- 
 complishments is highly valued in, for instance, 
 the life of a camp, and the man who is deft and 
 skilled in these arts, which make daily living 
 comfortable, is popular beyond his fellows. A 
 husband with some practical knowledge of 
 housewifery will understand how much is de- 
 manded of his wife, and will be able to sympa- 
 thize with her in the pressure of her common 
 routine. A boy accustomed to assist his mother 
 and the girls will not hesitate to put his shoul- 
 der to the wheel when it is his wife who requires 
 his timely aid. 
 
 Equally, a girl should become familiar with 
 the uses of tools, know how to drive a nail, and 
 to turn a screw; if she live in the country, be 
 quite independent of help as to harnessing her 
 horse, or saddling her pony, and in every respect 
 should be placed on a plane where she may be a 
 comrade and friend to her brothers, and, by and 
 by, everything his heart can wish to him whom 
 
 she chooses out of the whole world to be her own. 
 32
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 When the hour of choosing is reached the 
 mother and father are very deeply concerned, 
 and it is not strange that they look with yearn- 
 ing and anxious eyes on those whom their chil- 
 dren are henceforth to hold in the closest and 
 most indissoluble relationship. Marriage is too 
 solemn, too holy a thing, to be entered upon 
 without a comprehension of all it involves, and 
 to young people, determined upon the going out 
 from the old life and into the new, it should be 
 sacramental in character. Of course, parents 
 may be prejudiced, and very happy unions have 
 existed which were made in opposition to pa- 
 rental counsel; yet when there is opposition or 
 hostility is it not best for the young people to 
 wait a little time before they take the irrevocable 
 step ? Also, should they not remind themselves 
 that, in marriage, happiness is not the only goal 
 to be sought? Peopb marry that they may 
 help one another, that they may complement 
 one another's deficiencies, that they may take 
 part in God's work in his world. What shall 
 be the style of Christian living in the next 
 thirty or forty years ? Only our young people 
 
 can decide and answer this question. 
 33
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 HOME READING 
 
 "THE pleasantest memory of my childhood," 
 said a clever and brilliant man, "is the picture 
 which I can still see, when I close my eyes, of 
 the family group on the long winter evenings. 
 We lived in New Hampshire, where the cold 
 begins early and lingers late, and we were some- 
 times snow-bound for months, or nearly so, 
 when the great drifts hemmed the homestead 
 in, and we were dependent on ourselves for 
 society with little help from neighbors who, 
 two or three miles away, were also in a state of 
 siege. While frugality was studied, and our 
 parents made the most of every dollar, there 
 was a liberal expenditure for mental culture, 
 and we had a goodly number of books on our 
 shelves and several periodicals which brought to 
 us the news of the great world and kept us in 
 touch with all that went on beyond our moun- 
 tain-circled borders. 
 
 "At evening, when the day's work was done, 
 
 we gathered around the lamp, and father or 
 34
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOEROWS 
 
 Jennie, my eldest sister, read aloud while our 
 mother made progress with her weekly mend- 
 ing and the rest of us listened with eager in- 
 terest. In a single winter we would read thus 
 several volumes of history and fiction, biography 
 or poetry, and the great names of literature were 
 familiar on our lips." 
 
 For home reading, as considered distinctly 
 from individual reading, a book should be one 
 of continuous sequence, its subject sufficiently 
 large to occupy successive days and weeks, or 
 else it should consist of short essays, or stories, 
 complete in themselves and easily finished at a 
 sitting. Where people are of different ages and 
 at different stages of advancement all cannot 
 equally be absorbed in a volume requiring 
 thoughtful attention, and to be grasped only by 
 those whose previous studies have prepared 
 them to handle it. For this reason, if a history 
 is selected for reading aloud it should be narra- 
 tive and descriptive, and popular in style rather 
 than philosophical. A good plan is to keep for 
 reference in a convenient place some school text- 
 book to which one may turn for dates and names 
 and the refreshment of recollection about bat- 
 tles and other pivotal events. If poetry is read, 
 35
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 let it be of the ballad or lyric order ; few young 
 people would be able to listen night after night, 
 even if the selection were otherwise a judicious 
 one, to Browning's massive and magnificent 
 poem, "The Ring and the Book." But "Mar- 
 mion," or "The Lady of the Lake," or "Lord of 
 the Isles," could be read in a single evening, as 
 could Kipling's "Recessional," and a choice list 
 of other fine lyrics from this wonderfully vital 
 author of to-day. "Herve Riel," "The Ride 
 from Ghent to Aix," Robert Buchanan's "Ballad 
 of Judas Iscariot," some ringing verse of 
 Whittier's or linked sweetness of Longfellow's 
 would profitably fill charmed evenings beside 
 'the glowing hearth. 
 
 Discussion of what is read should be encour- 
 aged, and where a family undertakes one of the 
 excellent prescribed courses which are to be 
 found, embodying the results of scholarship and 
 investigation, by -all means let the listeners talk 
 freely, and ask questions concerning what they 
 do not fully comprehend. Even the younger 
 ones by degrees find their vocabulary enlarged, 
 and grow familiar with rich phrases and ornate 
 words as they sit with their elders and partake 
 
 of a feast spread for all. 
 36
 
 " Beside the Glowing Hearth."
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 In the home library there should be as of 
 course a dictionary, and to this everyone should 
 turn when there is uncertainty either as to the 
 precise meaning of a word, its derivation, or its 
 pronunciation. The best lexicons give many 
 examples of the uses of words, culled from 
 standard literature, and one might almost be- 
 come learned who should carefully and con- 
 scientiously study a dictionary. An encyclo- 
 pedia is another admirable addition to home 
 wealth, and it were worth while to practice a 
 thousand small economies that a stately row of 
 such useful volumes might be always close at 
 hand. 
 
 In the larger towns and cities, where access to 
 a public library is not difficult, the family needs 
 to spend less in the line of books of reference, 
 but if the home be in the country they are 
 indispensable. And one enjoys seeing these 
 friendly companions and guides in the house- 
 hold room, where they may be sought without 
 ceremony, and where they may act as umpires 
 in settling any mooted point which may arise. 
 
 An atlas should be in the possession of the 
 family, and the habit of consulting it should 
 
 be encouraged. Our ideas of geography grow 
 4 37
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 hazy and vague if we do not habitually have re- 
 course to the map, and though we may stay at 
 home, and seldom visit places distant from our 
 own abodes, it is as well that we should know 
 routes of travel, waterways of ocean and river, 
 and steam communications by land, that when 
 our foreign missionaries and our home mission- 
 aries go to their points of labor we shall be able 
 to follow and to think of them with the definite- 
 ness which comes of assured knowledge. One 
 cannot read the daily or weekly newspaper to- 
 day without a frequent necessity of referring to 
 the map, for history is making constantly, great 
 problems are confronting the nation, maps are 
 changing with altered political relations, and 
 every indication points to the speedy coming in 
 of the Kingdom of God. 
 
 I met a woman one autumn day in an isolated 
 farmhouse six miles from the great centers of 
 commerce. In her whole life of nearly sixty 
 years she had not been two hundred miles from 
 home, and of fashion and its follies, worldly 
 splendor and its luxuries, she was entirely ig- 
 norant. But on her sitting room table were 
 several missionary magazines, and beside them 
 
 just what I am now recommending, an admira- 
 38
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 ble atlas, revised and brought up to date, and I 
 was not surprised to discover, in this gentle and 
 home-keeping matron, one who had kept pace 
 with the world in its progress, who was bright, 
 animated, and keen of wit and speech, and who 
 both prayed for Christ's cause and gave to it 
 generously from her store. 
 
 In the purchase of books for a home library 
 care should be exercised as to selecting the 
 permanently valuable rather than the merely 
 ephemeral and transient. Among those vol- 
 umes which should have a place in the former 
 classification are a Life of Christ, and when one 
 is in doubt to whom to apply for counsel, as to 
 which of the many in the market is the best, 
 the natural and sensible course is to ask the pas- 
 tor of your church or the teacher of your Bible 
 class. Our Lord's life is given in all fullness 
 in the Scriptures; its first premonitions and 
 foreshadowings are in the Old Testament, and 
 the four gospels are four pictures of its beauti- 
 ful and matchless progress from Bethlehem to 
 Calvary. Beyond the gospels no one is actu- 
 ally obliged to go for the story of the Master, 
 but modern research and devout scholarship 
 
 have thrown a clear illumination on the times 
 39
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 of our Lord, and on the history of nations exist- 
 ing and ruling when the Divine Man walked up 
 and down the hills and dales of Palestine. The 
 Christian should seek to be informed of all 
 which reveals the circumstances of the earthly 
 life of Him whose name he bears, and whose 
 will is his law as he goes about the business of 
 his own days. 
 
 Shakespeare, the Bible, the Pilgrim's Prog- 
 ress, with nothing else besides, would abundant- 
 ly fill the minds and hearts of those who should 
 make them a daily study. The almost miracu- 
 lous human insight and kaleidoscopic variety 
 of the great dramatist are sufficient to fill many 
 libraries, and phrases from Shakespeare are 
 coin current in our common conversation. The 
 marvelous idyl of Bunyan is not so beloved and 
 studied by our young folk as it was by their pre- 
 decessors ; but one needs only to introduce Bun- 
 yan in a home or a Sunday school to make him 
 immediately a chief favorite, and we should not 
 be at a loss when we hear reference made to 
 Christian, to Hopeful, and to Faithful; to 
 Christiana, her children, and Mercy; to Pru- 
 dence, Piety, and Charity; Mr. Eeady-to-Halt, 
 
 Mr. Valiant-for-Truth, Mr. Standfast, and Old 
 40
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOKROWS 
 
 Father Honest. The genius of John Bunyan 
 is a lamp lighted for the ages, and his spell is 
 as potent now as when first his immortal work 
 was produced in the grim loneliness of Bedford 
 Jail. 
 
 As for the Word of God, it is for private study 
 not only, but always and everywhere for reading 
 aloud in the home. I would have it read in 
 regular order, from Genesis to Eevelation, the 
 family reading aloud, each two verses, from the 
 father down to the wee tot whose dimpled finger 
 traces the text while her lisping voice repeats 
 the words after her mother. By the simple 
 method of reading the Bible aloud at daily 
 family prayer, we shall have a generation of 
 church-going, God-fearing, Sabbath-observing 
 people instead of those who are ready, in a mad 
 pursuit of wealth or of pleasure, to forget God, 
 and turn their backs on all which has made our 
 
 country strong, prosperous, and free. 
 41
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTEE VI 
 THRIFT FOR THE KAINY DAY 
 
 THRIFT, a homely virtue which goes about 
 on sturdy feet and makes no particular stir, is 
 an eminently respectable figure though not a 
 specially picturesque one. Thrift implies fore- 
 sight, makes provision for the future, and is not 
 resolved on the indulgence of the present at the 
 expense of suffering to come. Far removed 
 from the miserly quality which hoards simply 
 for the sake of accumulation, thrift walks hand 
 in hand with contentment, with ease of mind, 
 and with dignified self-respect. 
 
 Pay day, however postponed, arrives as cer- 
 tainly as the rising of to-morrow's sun ; and the 
 thoughtlessly improvident person, who not only 
 spends as he goes but spends more than he earns, 
 has pay day to reckon with, and too often meets 
 it unprepared. Then, around one's neck, weigh- 
 ing one to the earth, debt hangs like a millstone, 
 
 and health, strength, enthusiasm, gayety, and 
 42
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 joy in life vanish under its relentless pressure. 
 As well may one drag a ball and chain around 
 one's feet as walk through life fettered by the 
 clog of debt, which seems ever larger and less 
 manageable the longer it is carried. 
 
 Cheerful days are not compatible with obliga- 
 tions greater than one's financial ability to bear, 
 and as for sleep, that vanishes from the pillow of 
 the reckless spendthrift whose chronic condi- 
 tion is that of the debtor. There may be an 
 abyss of degradation in which one is careless of 
 debt and dishonor alike, but of this I am not 
 speaking; for there is little difference between 
 a debtor who ignores his debts and a thief who 
 deliberately steals his neighbor's goods. The 
 one is as really culpable as the other. The 
 honest man or woman faced by debts which 
 cannot be settled, however the situation has been 
 brought into existence, must expect nights of 
 misery and torture ; for at midnight and at two 
 o'clock in the morning specters of fear and 
 anxiety haunt the spirit and rear ghostly forms 
 in the pathway of the oncoming years. 
 
 Among the numerous causes which assist in 
 bringing the wretchedness of poverty on the 
 
 head of the bad manager the most ordinary and 
 43
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 inevitable is a habit of living beyond one's in- 
 come. Sometimes the scale of expenditure is 
 too liberal, and the whole routine of life, so to 
 speak, its running schedule, needs immediate 
 alteration and rearrangement. The family live 
 in too large a house or in too costly a neighbor- 
 hood, or are too far remote from the scene of 
 their daily labors. Perhaps the father is of a 
 sanguine temperament and in his happy op- 
 timism is buoyant and heedless, allowing his 
 wife and children every pleasure of the moment 
 and living up to the full extent of his income, 
 with no margin for extra expenses, so that when 
 these come he is swamped, and plunged into 
 difficulties from which he cannot easily extricate 
 himself. In family life there are years of ex- 
 traordinary costliness as when several young 
 people are growing up together and their educa- 
 tion must be met, or when a prolonged season of 
 illness or an accident and consequent surgical 
 treatment in hospital taxes the family purse, or 
 when for some good reason a long and expensive 
 journey must be taken. The thrifty person 
 keeps contingencies in view and has a margin 
 on which to draw a sum in bank, or other re- 
 source which is available while his opposite, 
 44
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 having lived too generously, is forced to over- 
 work or to anticipate future earnings. Both 
 of these courses are unfortunate and apt to be 
 disastrous. 
 
 Excessive devotion to dress is a temptation to 
 some temperaments, and, if yielded to, leads to 
 an aftermath of mortification. Furs, silks, vel- 
 vets, laces and jewels, the accompaniments of 
 wealth, should be very moderately used by those 
 whose income is limited. A young woman, for 
 example, earning her own livelihood as a ste- 
 nographer at fifteen dollars a week, should not 
 wear a jacket of sealskin nor buy gems of price. 
 Not only are these articles of elegance and 
 beauty beyond the limitations of her pocket- 
 book but they are in the worst possible taste and 
 expose her to unkind criticism. Costly dress 
 is not needful for the ordinary workingman or 
 woman, who may be neat and well clad without 
 extravagance, if willing to study the science of 
 economical administration of money. 
 
 Whatever the reason of financial trouble may 
 be one duty is self-evident, and this is to stop 
 the leak. Ascertain where it is and at once 
 retrieve the position by retrenchment. Practice 
 
 the fine art of doing without ; learn to say No to 
 45
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 the impulse which urges you to buy what you 
 cannot afford, or which inclines you to the reck- 
 lessness of buying on credit. No one should 
 ever have a monthly account at a store, unless 
 he has a large and steady income, for there is 
 nothing more deceptive than the persuasion that 
 thirty or sixty days hence one can pay with ease 
 the reckoning which it is impracticable to settle 
 to-day. The habit of buying for cash only is a 
 check upon extravagance which acts as a useful 
 brake with most people. 
 
 A great deal of money is wasted by those who 
 despise very small savings. In town, for in- 
 stance, persons who could walk on their various 
 errands, and to whom walking would probably 
 be a benefit, take the trolley or the horse-car, 
 pay five cents for a short ride, and at the day's 
 end, or the week's end, have spent dollars in this 
 way dollars which could have been put to a 
 much better use. Young girls spend more 
 money than they like to think of in candy and 
 in little accessories of dress which might be dis- 
 pensed with. A penny saved is a penny earned, 
 and they who look well to tiny savings will have 
 large amounts to their credit in the long run. 
 
 Thrift for the rainy day means looking out 
 
 4G
 
 TKUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 for old age. Nothing is sadder than the spec- 
 tacle of one who has passed the halcyon time of 
 youth and the hounds of middle age, whose 
 working time is over and whose fund of vigor is 
 exhausted, and to whom there has come a 
 lonely period when kindred and friends are few. 
 To be old and dependent on charity, or old and 
 grudgingly sheltered and cared for by those 
 whose conduct shows that one is in the way, is a 
 very sorrowful lot. To lay up for the time of 
 fragile health and of waning powers is a duty 
 one should recognize before strength and cour- 
 age and opportunity are gone. 
 
 Undoubtedly it requires an effort, and bravery 
 almost heroic, to retrieve one's errors, to leave 
 the large and stately mansion and live in the 
 cottage or to change the single dwelling for the 
 narrow flat ; but of one thing most of us may be 
 assured : the public is entirely without concern 
 about the economies of private individuals and 
 families, and one's own friends will care for one 
 as truly when the manner of living is plain as 
 when it is showy. Ostentation may invite 
 censure, but unobtrusive simplicity wins the 
 suffrages of all wise judges. No friends are 
 
 ever lost through the accidents of wealth or the 
 47
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 reverse, and our neighbors and acquaintances 
 are seldom very much occupied about the exter- 
 nals of our lives the way we dress, the houses 
 we reside in, and whether we travel in the draw- 
 ing-room car or modestly take our seats in the 
 day coach. 
 
 But "men will praise thee when thou doest 
 well for thyself" was said by one of old, and 
 is still true in these modern days and in the 
 end of the nineteenth century. The thrifty 
 worker may in time become the genial person of 
 leisure ; the idler knowing nothing of prevision 
 may never have the wherewithal for leisurely 
 enjoyment. 
 
 Having said this, I must add that the truest 
 thrift, to put it on the very lowest plane, accords 
 to the Lord his share in the profits of our trade, 
 or profession, or business. Whether or not we 
 adhere to the old Hebrew rule and devote the 
 tenth part of our income to the Lord, we should 
 systematically and gratefully appropriate some 
 part, going over our assets and receipts, and 
 intelligently assigning to the uses of charity and 
 religion our offering In His Name. Whosoever 
 does this, praying for a blessing on the willing 
 
 sacrifice, will never miss the satisfaction of re- 
 48
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 ward given back in rich measure ; pressed down 
 and running over. 
 
 "There was one year," said a friend, "when 
 John and I decided that we were too poor to give 
 the Lord his tenth. Everything we touched 
 that year failed, and discouragement met us at 
 every turn. We have never dared since, remem- 
 bering that experience and its bitterness, to de- 
 fraud the Lord of his share in our substance." 
 
 Over the door of one of our world-famous 
 philanthropists is engraved this legend: "To- 
 day is my ain." For the rainy day not yet 
 dawning in the gray east, for the year of the 
 laggard step and the aching head, for the uncer- 
 tainties of all the to-morrows, it is ours to pro- 
 vide by conscientious and diligent thrift to-day ; 
 for to-day is "oor ain," and God's. 
 
 It isn't worth while to fret, dear, 
 
 To walk as behind a hearse ; 
 No matter how vexing things may be 
 
 They easily might be worse ; 
 And the time you spend complaining, 
 
 And groaning about the load, 
 Would better be given to going on 
 
 And pressing along the road. 
 
 I've trodden the hill myself, dear 
 'Tis the tripping tongue can preach, 
 
 But though silence is sometimes golden, child, 
 As oft there is grace in speech 
 49
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 And I see, from my higher level, 
 'Tis less the path than the pace 
 
 That wearies the back, and dims the eye, 
 And writes the lines on the face. 
 
 There are vexing cares enough, dear, 
 
 And to spare, when all is told ; 
 And love must mourn its losses, 
 
 And the cheek's soft bloom grow old ; 
 But the spell of the craven spirit 
 
 Turns blessing into curse, 
 While the bold heart meets the trouble 
 
 That easily might be worse. 
 
 So smile at each disaster 
 
 That will presently pass away, 
 And believe a bright to-morrow 
 
 Will follow the dark to-day. 
 There's nothing gained by fretting; 
 
 Gather your strength anew, 
 And step by step go onward, dear, 
 
 Let the skies be gray or blue. 
 50
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 DAYS OF ILLNESS 
 
 CAN days of pain and weariness, of tossing 
 to and fro in fever and sinking into depths of 
 weakness, be accounted days of cheer ? May we 
 preserve not merely calmness, but the sweetness 
 of hope and the possibility of joy, in circum- 
 stances alien to everything except depression? 
 When the body is on the rack may the soul 
 triumph, maintaining itself in strength and 
 heroism ? 
 
 Yes, the old word of promise still abides: 
 "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose 
 mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in 
 thee." The soul does not maintain itself but 
 God sustains it, and the keeping is as that of the 
 armed sentinel who paces to and fro before the 
 gate and warns off any stealthy invader. In 
 times of special need our Lord is specially near 
 to his people, and so it comes to pass that many 
 a sick chamber is as the house of Obed-edom in 
 
 which the ark abode. 
 
 51
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Said one who had known keen suffering, 
 "The sickness of the last week was fine medi- 
 cine; pain disintegrated the spirit or became 
 spiritual. I rose. I felt that I had given to 
 God more perhaps than an angel could had 
 promised him in youth that to be a blot on this 
 world, at his command, would be acceptable. 
 Constantly offer myself to continue the ob- 
 scurest and loneliest thing ever heard of with 
 one proviso : his agency. Yes, love thee and all 
 thou dost, while thou sheddest frost and dark- 
 ness on every path of mine." 
 
 Once the lesson has been learned of complete 
 submission to the Divine will that will becomes 
 a pillow for the head and a comfort for the 
 heart. There is no fretfulness, no resistance; 
 only serene acquiescence, and then "He giveth 
 songs in the night." 
 
 "I praise thee while my days go on, 
 
 I love thee while my days go on ; 
 
 Through dark and dearth, through fire and frost, 
 With emptied arms and treasure lost, 
 
 I thank thee while my days go on." 
 
 I shall never forget the look of ecstasy on the 
 worn, sweet, illumined countenance of a beloved 
 
 one who was passing through deep waters, whose 
 52
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 fragile form was rent with anguish, and who 
 knew, morning by morning, that relentlessly 
 and inevitably death was encroaching upon life. 
 I entered her chamber in the early dawn; she 
 greeted me with her rare and beautiful smile. 
 "Ah I" she said, "my Lord has so revealed him- 
 self to me that I have no fear, no solicitude, 
 nothing but gladness in waiting for him. I 
 can trust him for everything, even for the lit- 
 tle children I am leaving to be fatherless and 
 motherless in the world." Days and weeks 
 wore slowly on before the silver cord was 
 loosed, but the rapture only deepened as the 
 earthly faded and the heavenly drew near. To 
 all who came within her sphere that room of 
 mortal agony was bright with a light which fell 
 from the jasper walls. 
 
 It is not alone when death is imminent that 
 the dear Lord can give us supremacy over pain. 
 To one of his children it has been appointed to- 
 dwell for many years under the shadow of a 
 malady which binds her to her couch, hand and 
 foot. She lies there helpless as a log, lifted, 
 turned, carried sometimes to another room, 
 never able to perform one bodily office for hus- 
 band or child ; always being more or less under 
 5 53
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 the bondage of a grinding poignant pain. 
 There are hard days, and, mercifully, there are 
 easy days, but through them all the invalid's 
 courage and cheer is the radiant fact which 
 keeps the home a cheerful habitation and not a 
 gloomy cell. A friend coming in is welcomed 
 with blithe word and happy look; the husband 
 hears never a murmur ; the son, through child- 
 hood, youth, and in early manhood, has had his 
 mother for confidante and counselor, his educa- 
 tion, his profession, his plans all part of her 
 thought and part of her work, intelligently 
 shared as to all that has concerned his develop- 
 ment. The house, smoothly carried on in its 
 domestic routine, has known her guiding brain 
 if not her guiding hand, and her years of illness 
 have been truly years of glory and victory. 
 
 Such an experience would be impossible with- 
 out Christian faith, for it is forever true that 
 
 "The healing of the seamless dress 
 
 Is by our beds of pain ; 
 We touch Him in life's throng and press, 
 
 And we are whole again." 
 
 William Law, whose insight was so remark- 
 able, writing in the last century said, pithily: 
 
 "If a man do not believe that all the world is as 
 54
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 God's family, where nothing happens by chance 
 but all is guided and directed by the care and 
 providence of a Being that is all love and good- 
 ness to his creatures, if a man do not believe 
 this from his heart, he cannot be said truly 
 to believe in God. And yet he that has this 
 faith has faith enough to overcome the world 
 and always be thankful to God. For he that 
 believes that everything happens to him for the 
 best cannot possibly complain for the want of 
 something that is better. If therefore you live 
 in murmurings and complaints, accusing all the 
 accidents of life, it is not because you are a weak, 
 infirm creature, but it is because you want the 
 first principle of religion, a right belief in God. 
 It. is certain that, whatever seeming calamity 
 happens to you, if you thank and praise God for 
 it you turn it into a blessing. Could you, there- 
 fore, work miracles you could not do more for 
 yourself than by this thankful spirit, for it heals 
 with a word speaking, and turns all that it 
 touches into happiness." 
 
 We should not overlook the great goodness 
 of God which ordains that, for most of us, days 
 of illness are episodes in the midst of days of 
 
 health and activity. They interrupt us in our 
 55
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 career, and for awhile we are laid aside, but they 
 pass, and the tide which ebbed flows in again 
 and we are once more able to go to the office or 
 the shop, to sit at the head of the table, to engage 
 in the multitudinous affairs of our lives. Dur- 
 ing the period of inaction it is well for us if we 
 have been able to lay everything in the kind 
 hands of God, to trust everything to him, sure 
 that he will not appoint us one bitter drop too 
 much. 
 
 The real test comes to us when not only is our 
 illness the occasion of pain to us personally, but 
 when, if prolonged, it brings great weariness to 
 our caretakers and perhaps entails privation 
 upon them, in the loss of means which the bread- 
 winner earns when in health. To feel that 
 there is no time to be ill is to know a very keen, 
 knife-like thrust of anguish. Yet here too the 
 childlike heart will breathe "Thy will be done," 
 and will repose in confidence on the pledge that 
 "all things work together for good to those who 
 love God." 
 
 We must sometimes be ready to cry, 
 
 "But if this weariness hath come 
 
 A present from on high, 
 Teach me to find the hidden wealth 
 
 That in its depths may lie." 
 56
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 One of the most difficult tasks and heaviest 
 burdens ever laid upon a believing soul is to see 
 the suffering of little children. When pain 
 comes to an infant too young to tell what hurts 
 and where the hurt is, when its arresting pres- 
 ence stops the mirth of the growing boy and 
 shuts down like a heavy curtain on the bright- 
 ness of the young girl, we, who can only min- 
 ister, who cannot avert the ill, nor take it away 
 and bear it ourselves, find it terribly hard to be 
 cheerful and composed. Childhood ought to be 
 so free from sickness, so full of elasticity and 
 delight, that suffering laid upon its shoulders 
 appears to us as an anachronism. Happily, 
 children accept without murmuring whatever 
 the day brings them, and for that very reason 
 they recover more rapidly from any transient 
 malady than their elders do. And for our chil- 
 dren as for ourselves, in our days of the darkness 
 and of the light, we must ask grace for the day 
 and believe and hope and wait, sure that in the 
 hottest furnace there will walk with us One like 
 unto the Son of God. 
 
 "The folded hands seem idle. 
 
 If folded at His word 
 "Tis a holy service, trust me, 
 
 In obedience to the Lord." 
 57
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 "Among so many can he care? 
 Can special love be everywhere? 
 A myriad homes, a myriad ways, 
 And God's eye over every place? 
 I asked. My soul bethought of this : 
 In that same very place of his 
 Where he hath put and keepeth you 
 God hath no other thing to do." 
 
 Invalids frequently look back to convalescence 
 as a time of peculiar blessedness. The differ- 
 ence between convalescence and extreme illness 
 in the initiative is often so very slight that a 
 physician or a nurse only can state, with any- 
 thing like assurance, whether the tide has really 
 turned or whether it is still ebbing out toward 
 eternity. If it has turned, and, ever so slowly, 
 life is flowing back, then there may be for a 
 while no improvement sufficiently marked to be 
 admitted as such by the unprofessional eye. In 
 convalescence one sometimes measures progress 
 by weeks, when by days there is apparently none 
 to mark. Scanning the past seven days or four- 
 teen days there is noted an increase of strength, 
 ability to take more nourishment, less irritation 
 of nerves, less sensitive quivering at a slight 
 noise, presently a little more desire to know 
 what is going on, and soon a wish to see inquir- 
 ing friends. This last step must be taken with 
 58
 
 TEUSTPUL TO-MOKROWS 
 
 great caution, and visitors from the world out- 
 side accepted with wise discrimination, while in 
 the hand to hand conflict between vitality and 
 morbid tendency the forces of the former are 
 gaining the ascendant. 
 
 In the early stages of convalescence a patient 
 requires very tender and judicious care. There 
 must be no relaxation of vigilance, no intermis- 
 sion of the sentries on guard, for a small indis- 
 cretion, an unmeant blunder, may occasion that 
 dreaded condition of affairs, a relapse ; a thing 
 to be scrupulously avoided, since the victim has 
 not now the reserves on which to draw, as he had 
 when originally taken ill. In convalescence one 
 must make haste slowly. Tide over by every 
 possible means that phase of returning health 
 when even a statesman, in his invalid weakness, 
 may behave like a spoiled baby. Is it never 
 coming back, the old independence of action, 
 the old swiftness of thought, the old exhilara- 
 tion in work, and rapture in being alive ? Per- 
 haps the despair and depression express them- 
 selves in a curtness or brusqueness alien to the 
 manner of the person in health, but pardoned by 
 attendants and friends who know that it is 
 
 merely incidental to weakness, and that it will 
 59
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 be transient. Now, when the room is flooded 
 with sunshine and radiant with flowers, when a 
 child's foot is allowed to cross the threshold, and 
 a child's sweet voice is heard beside the bed, the 
 crossness, for it is just that, passes away, and 
 the invalid begins to enjoy the returning days, 
 each laden for him or her with new gifts and 
 graces. 
 
 What gratitude we owe to that minister of 
 love the trained nurse, a product of nineteenth 
 century wisdom. There have always been 
 women described as born nurses; women with 
 cool hands, deft and skillful, and with that 
 faculty for care-taking which is brought to its 
 highest water-mark under the discipline of a 
 nurses' school. But our modern nurse is for- 
 tunate in being able to economize her own 
 strength ; she is not disturbed by the emotional 
 strain which wears on wife and mother; she is 
 the doctor's obedient instrument, and in her best 
 estate becomes the prized and honored friend of 
 the family. 
 
 In the old days God sent his angels oft 
 
 To men in threshing-floors, to women pressed 
 
 With daily tasks ; they came to tent and croft, 
 And whispered words of blessing and of rest. 
 60
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOEEOWS 
 
 Not mine to guess what shape those angels wore, 
 Nor in what voice they spoke, nor with what grace 
 
 They brought the dear love down that evermore 
 Makes lowliest souls its best abiding-place. 
 
 But in these days I know my angels well ; 
 
 They brush my garments on the common way, 
 They take my hand, and very softly tell 
 
 Some bit of comfort in the waning day. 
 And though their angel names I do not ken, 
 
 Though in their faces human love I read, 
 They are God-given to this world of men, 
 
 God-sent to bless it in its hours of need. 
 
 Child, mother, dearest wife, brave hearts that taks 
 The rough and bitter cross, and help me bear 
 
 Its heavy weight when strength is like to break* 
 God bless you all, our angels unaware ! 
 61
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 COMFORT IN SORROW 
 
 "Into each life some rain must fall." 
 SORROW sooner or later visits every one. It 
 may be of one or another variety ; it may be grief 
 over the dead or distress over the living. A 
 child gone astray is a far greater source of sor- 
 row than a child asleep in the cemetery. The 
 trouble which one has over the living is never 
 finished ; it rises up with one at morning, accom- 
 panies him all day, and lies down with him at 
 night. What form it shall next take depends 
 on so many possible combinations of temptation 
 or opportunity that they who endure this special 
 form of trial seldom feel secure; they are in 
 dread of some new feature, some denouement 
 worse than the last. 
 
 "When my darling boy died after a few hours 
 of frightful illness I was prostrated in the very 
 dust," said a mother. "My whole world lay 
 about me in ruins. The narrow grave in which 
 we laid him blotted the sunshine from our sky, 
 
 and I remember three lines of poetry which I 
 62
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOEROWS 
 
 read that mournful summer, and which kept 
 recurring to me, 
 
 'His part in all the pomp that fills 
 The circuit of the summer hills 
 Is that his grave is green.' 
 
 For years I rejected consolation, and turned my 
 back on every solace; I was angry with God, 
 who had dared to snatch away my son. That 
 was the worst part of it the hard, cold, bitter 
 spot in my heart, and the sense of absence from 
 my Heavenly Father. I have learned now that 
 there are griefs to which mine was nothing. 
 
 "My friend, whose son and mine were school- 
 mates, has spent months in trying to free him 
 from a vile accusation. She believes him to be 
 innocent, as I do, but around his feet a network 
 of incriminating circumstantial evidence has 
 been woven, and he is in prison, his name de- 
 famed, his home broken up, his career ruined, 
 and apparently there is no way out of the diffi- 
 culty. The only thing which buoys that mother 
 up is her firm belief that her boy is innocent ; 
 there are mothers who have no reason for such 
 a trust when their sons are accused. I have 
 reached a place where I can say 'Thank God for 
 
 my darling in heaven !' >: 
 63
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Of whatever nature our particular grief may 
 be there is balm for it in the Gilead of God's 
 great dispensary. The sad-faced woman whom 
 I met carrying roses to lay on a mound in that 
 beautiful God's acre at Savannah, where the 
 weird gray moss hangs from the trees and the 
 jasmine lights its golden star above the silent 
 sleepers, smiled in my face as she said, "Robbie 
 never had a moment to rest before. He can rest 
 now." Mrs. Browning was in the right when 
 she interpreted the feeling of thousands who are 
 bereaved, 
 
 "Well done of God to halve the lot, 
 And give her all the sweetness ; 
 
 To us, the empty room and cot ; 
 To her, the heaven's completeness." 
 
 If we can but be unselfish our grief for the 
 dead is cheated of its sting ; and in our grief for 
 the living there is usually at least one mitiga- 
 tion, that of hope for a brighter day. "It is 
 better farther on," we sing, and take courage. 
 
 A man honored and beloved by all his friends 
 died suddenly some years ago in a New York 
 hospital. He had been in receipt of an ample 1 
 salary and had few personal extravagances. 
 
 There seemed no reason why he should die in 
 64
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 debt, yet, when he was gone, it was discovered 
 that to the charity of friends and acquaintances 
 he must owe the six feet of earth in which he 
 was to lie. No one could understand the situ- 
 ation or explain it, but after a while the fact- 
 transpired that for years he had been support- 
 ing a relative, a man of education and native 
 refinement who had taken to drink, who had 
 fallen lower and lower until all kinsmen but this 
 one had abandoned him, who had finally degen- 
 erated into a social outcast and a tramp. The 
 drain on the man's resources had been con- 
 stant, and he had deprived himself of almost 
 everything that he might assist his weaker 
 brother, and finally he had dropped down be- 
 neath a load too heavy for him to bear. This 
 was a day by day torture, so cheerfully endured 
 that its very existence had not been suspected. 
 
 In sorrow, whatever it be, the natural tem- 
 per of the mind must be considered; its power 
 of reaction from the first despair, and its elas- 
 ticity or its sluggishness. A mercurial person 
 resists melancholy, and fights against it. A per- 
 fectly well and vigorous person has in physical 
 strength an armor against morbid grief. Com- 
 fort comes to some of us in every pulsation of 
 65
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 the heart, in every waft of the breeze, in every 
 sunset cloud and blooming flower. Others are 
 obstinately sorrowful, and, against their own 
 will, find their hearts as heavy as lead receiv- 
 ing comfort only from time, which blunts the 
 edge of the sharpest wounds. 
 
 Duty, however, points to unselfishness in sor- 
 row. N"o matter how desperate the situation, 
 how forlorn the day, we have no right to include 
 in our own misery those we meet, strangers, or 
 visitors, or children. For the sake of others we 
 must arise and eat bread, and go about our daily 
 work and make the most of what still remains. 
 To gather up the fragments that nothing may 
 be lost is still the divine injunction, and it is 
 incumbent on us all. 
 
 The effort to look and speak cheerfully, and 
 the endeavor to make others happy, will usually 
 be successful in bringing relief to our own 
 bosoms. The getting out of self is absolutely 
 essential. I shall always remember a Christian 
 gentlewoman who came on the appointed day 
 of its meeting to a board in which she held an 
 important office. Only three days had elapsed 
 since there had been a funeral at her home, and 
 
 we had followed to Greenwood the form of her 
 66
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 son, laid low in his early maturity. "The Lord's 
 work must be done," she said, and calmly, with- 
 out wavering and without delay, took up what 
 he had appointed her. 
 
 "Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall 
 be comforted," said the Master, and somehow, 
 at the core of the deepest desolation, there is a 
 honey of sweetness in the thought of that pledge 
 of blessing. For by whom are we to be com- 
 forted ? By no human agency alone ; if by hu- 
 man means, they are but channels through 
 which our God will move. In our extremity the 
 compassionate Jesus will himself loose our 
 bonds and give us freedom and support. 
 
 One of the dearest elderly women I ever knew 
 after the decease of an idolized daughter found 
 alleviation of her loneliness in taking up the 
 daughter's work. The young lady had been un- 
 tiring in her devotion to an orphanage visiting 
 it frequently, teaching classes of the little ones, 
 raising money for its endowment, and person- 
 ally placing the children in homes when they 
 were ready to leave the fostering care of the in- 
 stitution. Everything the daughter had done, 
 in her plenitude of youth and fullness of vigor, 
 
 the mother did in her lessened strength and 
 67
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 greater age, and her gentle face and slender fig- 
 ure in its trailing robes of black were soon 
 familiar in haunts which they had previously 
 not known. In her loving ministries she was 
 abundantly blessed, and there came to her such 
 a sense of companionship with the one who was 
 gone as she could have found in no other way. 
 
 A certain household where sons were as olive 
 plants around the table had one little daughter, 
 who was so petted and prized and made much 
 of that she was almost the corner stone of the 
 domestic edifice. Blanche was the darling of 
 parents and brothers, the youngest of the flock, 
 a lovely girl whose future loomed up in un- 
 clouded splendor. She could ride, swim, drive, 
 hold her own in any sport and in any study, and 
 her beauty was like that of an unfolding flower. 
 No expense was spared for Blanche, and she had 
 not an unfulfilled wish in the world. 
 
 Suddenly as if lightning had flashed from a 
 clear sky a fatal sickness smote her, and she was 
 not, for God had taken her. 
 
 "There is no flock, however watched and tended, 
 
 But one dead lamb is there ; 
 There is no household, howsoe'er defended, 
 
 But has one vacant chair." 
 G8
 
 One Little Daughter."
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 Very blank was the empty space, very silent 
 the house, very sweeping the sorrow, in the home 
 from which Blanche had been snatched. What 
 did the parents do ? Just this. As soon as they 
 could rally from the shock and gather them- 
 selves together they computed the amount they 
 had spent each year for Blanche, the amount 
 they would probably have spent in the years of 
 her early womanhood, and they consecrated that 
 sum to the education of another girl of her age, 
 and to the salary of a missionary woman in a 
 foreign station where Blanche was interested. 
 And so they kept her little candle burning, 
 though they sat in the dark. 
 
 A sorrow for some of us is found in the open- 
 ing of our eyes to our own limitations. There 
 was a golden day when we felt that defeat and 
 retreat were terms we could never understand. 
 Our plans were made for success. With failure 
 we should never have aught to do. But the 
 onward march has seen us lagging in the rear, 
 where we anticipated pushing forward in the 
 van. We are aware that we cannot keep the 
 pace that our contemporaries have taken; we 
 must instead walk softly, and, not able to do all 
 we would, we must do what we can. In this
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 condition let us cease to fret, for even here there 
 is comfort in the thought that "they also serve 
 who only stand and wait." As in the old days 
 an equal division of spoil was the portion of 
 those who tarried by the stuff as of those who 
 went to the field and fought the foe, so, to-day, 
 God's rewards are distributed impartially to all 
 who do his will, whether in the open contest or 
 in the quiet of the curtained room. 
 
 How rich a comfort have those derived who, 
 being blessed by God with large means, have 
 consecrated them to the uses of humanity, link- 
 ing the college, the hospital bed, the gymnasium, 
 the nurses' home, or the library, with the name 
 of some one who has a new Christ-given name 
 in the Jerusalem that is above. The broad uni- 
 versity, forever dispensing liberal culture and 
 scientific knowledge to eager youth, and giving 
 them educational opportunities in their poverty 
 which the millionaire's purse were scarcely large 
 enough to buy, is a white stone erected for the 
 love of a son gone home to the better land and 
 sorely missed here. Every small crippled child 
 treated in a certain hospital bed owes its relief 
 and cure to the undying sorrow of a mother 
 
 from whose arms one summer day two bonny lit- 
 70
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 tie ones slipped away. Broken-hearted parents 
 saw their splendid boy close his eyes on the 
 lights of earth and their own way grew so black 
 that they groped in it as if blind, till a star arose 
 to show them the path and they heard a voice 
 saying, "I [who have taken him] will come 
 again, and receive you unto myself." The fruit 
 of that hour is a superb gymnasium for the 
 Young Men's Christian Association of which 
 their son was a member, and so long as happy- 
 hearted young people shall enjoy its benefits it 
 will be a testimony of one Christ-like method of 
 finding comfort in sorrow, the peace under the 
 deep sea, though the billows are in agitation 
 above. 
 
 IF CHRIST WERE HERE TO-NIGHT 
 
 If Christ were here to-night and saw me tired, 
 And half afraid another step to take, 
 
 I think he'd know the thing my heart desired, 
 And ease that heart of all its throbbing ache. 
 
 If Christ were here, in this dull room of mine 
 That gathers up so many shadows dim, 
 
 I am quite sure its narrow space would shine, 
 And kindle into glory around him. 
 
 If Christ were here I might not pray so long: 
 My prayer would have such little way to go ; 
 
 *T would break into a burst of happy song, 
 So would my joy and gladness overflow. 
 71
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 'If Christ were here to-night I'd touch the hem 
 Of his fair, seamless robe, and stand complete 
 
 In wholeness and in whiteness ; I, who stem 
 Such waves of pain to kneel at his dear feet. 
 
 If Christ were here to-night I'd tell him all 
 The load I carry for the ones I love 
 
 The blinded ones, who grope and faint and fall, 
 Following false guides, nor seeking Christ above. 
 
 If Christ were here! Ah, faithless soul and weak, 
 Is not the Master ever close to thee? 
 
 Deaf is thine ear, that can'st not hear him speak ; 
 Dim is thine eye, his face that can not see. 
 
 Thy Christ is here, and never far away ; 
 
 He entered with thee when thou earnest in ; 
 His strength was thine through all the busy day : 
 
 He knew thy need, he kept thee pure from sin. 
 
 Thy blessed Christ is in thy little room ; 
 
 Nay, more the Christ himself is in thy heart; 
 Fear not ; the dawn will scatter darkest gloom, 
 
 And heaven will be of thy rich life a part. 
 72
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 LOOKING FORWARD 
 
 FROM the hour when the pilgrimage begins 
 there is a continual looking forward, a reaching 
 out of powers and endeavors to a goal ever 
 beckoning the ardent soul. Indeed before the 
 human being takes his place in the great world 
 armies there is an intense and sacred expecta- 
 tion clinging to him, inwoven in the very fibers 
 of his mental and physical consciousness. In 
 one most important though altogether hidden 
 period of existence, the pre-natal, the little child 
 of God who is presently to put on immortality 
 is the object of devout and loving anticipation 
 in the home, and to one person, the mother, is a 
 wonder and a joy in the months of looking for- 
 ward while the babe in her womb is in sanctu- 
 ary. Never is a woman so hallowed, so lifted 
 above the ordinary plane, so beautiful, as when, 
 the glory of her coming motherhood upon her, 
 she holds herself away and apart from every de- 
 basing thought, keeps herself serene and pure, 
 
 for the sake of the child whom she feels but can- 
 73
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 not see. Keeps herself ? Nay, rather, in these 
 long, hushed, waiting days she is kept, trusting 
 in God, from evil thoughts and from fear, from 
 petty irritations and flurries of anger, while she 
 is often rapt in meditation and is wistful that 
 her divine Friend and Master may enter into 
 her home and abide with her there. For in 
 these days of looking forward the mother too is 
 in sanctuary, sheltered by the tender watching 
 angels, hearing symphonies of heaven, and com- 
 muning much with the Most High. 
 
 Strange, when the anticipation is so sweet 
 and the reality so blessed, that there should ever 
 be reluctant maternity, that the days when the 
 mother is brooding over her nursery should ever 
 be aught but cheerful ! 
 
 Mothers have the monopoly of sacred joy in 
 the dear looking forward, wistful, wondering, 
 waiting till the sacred hour of birth arrives, and 
 they greet their new darling. Nothing else in 
 the world is like this. In a recently published 
 autobiography there is a very touching passage 
 in which a wife, seeing her husband's life drift- 
 ing out day by day and fearing he might go be- 
 fore he saw his unborn child, a thing which 
 
 actually happened, often strayed into a little 
 74
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 room in the Pitti Palace in Florence where 
 hung a famous picture of the Visitation. Lone- 
 ly, a stranger in a strange land with a great 
 anguish staring her in the face, Margaret Oli- 
 phant said, "It seemed to do me good to go and 
 look at these two women, the tender old Eliza- 
 beth, and Mary with all the awe of her coming 
 motherhood upon her. I had little thought of 
 all that was to happen to me before my child 
 came, but I had no woman to go to, to be com- 
 forted, except these two." This is a touching 
 revelation of the way art may prove God's 
 messenger, in a crisis, just as Nature so often 
 does. All the rose-strewn path of childhood is 
 for mothers a looking forward, from the first 
 toddling steps to the going to school, then on- 
 ward to the choosing of a profession. The pres- 
 ent is but the foothold by which the mother 
 climbs to the next level in advance. 
 
 But we look forward in many other fields. 
 Without this quality, which acts as a saving salt, 
 we might stagnate. Things would not be worth 
 while; for nobody lives only for food and rai- 
 ment, and for the festivity of the hour alone, if 
 he or she possesses the instincts which are the 
 
 birthright of an immortal being. "We eat and 
 75
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 drink and to-morrow we die" is the hopeless out- 
 cry of the skeptic who, with Omar Khayyam, 
 sees in the sky only an inverted howl under 
 which the generations creep and crawl to noth- 
 ingness. Not so with those who feel the power 
 of the world to come pressing them round in this 
 time of preparation. For them the looking for- 
 ward alwa}^s crosses the river and mounts the 
 heights on the other side. 
 
 Is there anything in literature more winsome 
 and charming than the looking forward of Mar- 
 garet Ogilvy and her son, told in the inimitable 
 manner of one of our greatest men of genius : 
 
 "Mother, the little girl in my story wears a 
 magenta frock and a white pinafore." 
 
 "You minded that! But I'm thinking it 
 wasna a lassie in a pinafore you saw in the long 
 parks of Kinnordy, it was just a gey done auld 
 woman." 
 
 "It was a lassie in a pinafore, mother, when 
 she was far away, hut when she came near it was 
 a gey done auld woman." 
 
 "And a fell ugly one!" 
 
 "The most beautiful one I shall ever see !" 
 
 "I wonder to hear you say it. Look at my 
 
 wrinkled auld face." 
 
 76
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 "It is the sweetest face in all the world." 
 
 "See how the rings drop off my poor wasted 
 finger/' 
 
 "There will always be some one nigh, mother, 
 to put them on again." 
 
 "Ay will there! Well I know it. Do you 
 mind how when you were but a bairn you used 
 to say, 'Wait till I'm a man, and you'll never 
 have a reason for greeting again' ? 
 
 "You used to coming running into the house 
 to say, 'There's a proud dame going down the 
 Marywell brae in a cloak that is black on one 
 side and white on the other ; wait till I'm a man 
 and you'll have one the very same.' And when 
 I lay on gey hard beds you said, *When I'm a 
 man you'll lie on feathers.' You saw nothing 
 bonny, you never heard of my setting my heart 
 on anything, but what you flung up your head 
 and cried, 'Wait till I'm a man.' You fair 
 shamed me before the neighbors ; and yet I was 
 windy, too. And now it has all come true like 
 a dream. I can call to mind not one little thing 
 I ettled for in my lusty days that hasna been put 
 into my hands in my auld age." 
 
 Was there not to the son of Margaret Ogilvy 
 
 an unutterable gratitude of heart that his look- 
 
 77
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 ing forward for his beloved mother's welfare 
 had been so fulfilled, that he had been able to 
 do for her in manhood what the leal laddie had 
 planned in childish days ? 
 
 Most husbands and wives must begin their 
 united partnership in the day of small things. 
 They have their fortunes to make, and so they 
 set out, if they are sensible, in the unpretending 
 little home with the very simple furnishing, and 
 with no attempt at gorgeous draperies, costly 
 rugs, or lavish display. Their careful econo- 
 mies, their conscientious use of every dollar, their 
 investing for a future day, are noble and honor- 
 able, and yet more : they are satisfying and de- 
 lightful. What pleasure of the millionaire in 
 buying the picture he fancies in a gallery, draw- 
 ing his check, and thinking no more about it, 
 can for a moment compare with the sense of 
 achievement, of victory gained, which is the 
 crowning joy of a young couple who for a year 
 have been saving up to secure a coveted painting 
 for their walls? How often have they strolled 
 past the dealer's shop and gazed into his win- 
 dow ! How their hearts went down, down, into 
 the depths when once that window failed to hold 
 
 their picture when another had replaced it. 
 78
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 N 
 
 Trembling and disturbed they ventured in, to 
 ask whether it had been bought and sent away ; 
 and how hope revived when they saw it still 
 within their grasp, if only the little sums put by 
 would mount up faster. Their children in days 
 to come will wonder why papa and mamma, 
 lovers yet, so often sit hand in hand on the sofa 
 and look at the old picture brought home when 
 the eldest born was a baby. Ah! they cannot 
 fathom what love and faith and hope meant to 
 their parents in the cheery days when they 
 worked together for their home building and 
 money was scarce. 
 
 Above all other serviceable gifts is a capacity 
 for looking forward when one meets reverses. 
 The ship is going on under full sail, and every- 
 thing is favorable for a successful voyage, when, 
 lo ! a cloud appears on the horizon, a gale rises, 
 the storm gathers and breaks. Our shores are 
 strewn with the wreckage of vessels that were 
 only yesterday faring on bravely toward their 
 desired haven. In some cases the wreck is final ; 
 the sailor never tries to make another port. In 
 others, the mariner with steady eye and splen- 
 did courage builds a boat perhaps of drift- 
 wood, if he can do no more runs up a rag of 
 79
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 canvas, looks aloft for help and goes on to re- 
 trieve every disaster and come gallantly home at 
 last. Blessed is the disposition in which there 
 is the ability to rebound ; which is not crushed 
 by calamity, but takes its courage in both hands 
 and goes on. 
 
 "Speak unto the children of Israel, that they 
 go forward," came ringing from the skies, when 
 the mountains and the desert and the sea were 
 all presenting obstacles in the path of their 
 progress. Since he who watcheth Israel neither 
 slumbers nor sleeps, why should we not always 
 listen for that command and not only look, but 
 
 go, forward through all the days ? 
 80
 
 TBUSTFUL TO-MOEBOWS 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 Music AT HOME 
 
 FORTY years ago, here in America, our 
 notions of music were very primitive. A piano 
 was considered part of the essential furnishings 
 of a comfortable home, and one or two of the 
 daughters of the household took music lessons 
 as a matter of course. Women whose hair is 
 silvered and who have put on the amplitude of 
 later middle life remember what a trial those 
 music lessons were, recall the practicing which 
 held them rigidly fast while their brothers were 
 out on the hills playing ball or skating over the 
 frozen lake. The half hours and the hours were 
 scrupulously exacted, careful aunts and mothers 
 watching the clock when the young girl herself 
 had not a conscience to be trusted, and by de- 
 grees the book of exercises was somehow fin- 
 ished, the earliest novitiate was passed, and the 
 performer took pieces battles, marches, polkas, 
 and variations. Once in a while a girl with real 
 musical taste and decided talent persevered and 
 
 became a musician, but as a rule the hardly-won 
 81
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 skill was soon lost, laid aside as a useless tool, 
 soon rusted, when marriage or maturity arrived. 
 One good thing resulted from the somewhat 
 crude efforts of that bygone period, and that 
 was a great deal of innocent sociability and 
 gayety in home and neighborhood life. There 
 was in every company a young woman who could 
 play. Frequently there were several young 
 women whose playing was agreeable, and the 
 piano on long winter evenings was the natural 
 rallying center of the domestic circle. Friends 
 happened in, and there was singing. A little 
 music enlivened the routine of work. Father 
 enjoyed it, lying back in his easy chair with the 
 weekly paper, forgotten, on his lap. Mother 
 felt great pride in her daughter's accomplish- 
 ment; it meant poetry and brightness and 
 beauty to her, redeeming her years from the 
 gradual narrowing in of their interests. If a 
 brother was tempted away from home, lured by 
 evil associates, apt to go astray, there was always 
 the resource of music to keep him in safe 
 bounds; his sister and his friends' sisters could 
 weave around him their innocent spells and 
 make home so attractive that the magic of vice 
 
 fell away and lost its malevolent power. Pass- 
 82
 
 TBUSTFUL TO-MOREOWS 
 
 ing down a village street one heard the tinkle of 
 the "four and twenty black slaves and the four 
 and twenty white" in every parlor, and a new 
 song, a new arrangement of a motive, was the 
 theme of conversation among maidens fair as 
 they matched worsteds and silks and exchanged 
 dress patterns. 
 
 Who fancies that lessons for a year or two are 
 now sufficient to turn out a skilled musician? 
 Who would be satisfied with the cursory ac- 
 quaintance and slovenly technique of those curi- 
 ously simple days ? We are now aware that art 
 is a jealous mistress, that he or she who would 
 become proficient at her shrine must lead a 
 laborious life and give her utmost devotion. To 
 play even fairly well one must sacrifice many 
 other advantages, and few people are contented, 
 in our more advanced condition of scientific 
 knowledge, in our more enlightened view point 
 of criticism and intelligence, to play at all unless 
 they can play well. 
 
 The result is admirable in one aspect. Many 
 girls have time to cultivate their physical health, 
 have opportunity for outdoor air and recreation, 
 who once spent their morning or their afternoon 
 
 hours, when freed from school, in a wrestle with 
 83
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 scales and finger exercises. But something has 
 gone from home, and its quiet enjoyment, which 
 might well come back. There is a vanished joy. 
 
 May we not plead for a middle course, for 
 the use of facility, even if it be not of the very 
 highest, and for the return of simple music as a 
 part of our everyday life ? 
 
 Nothing is more refreshing than a half hour 
 of song when the work of the day is over. For 
 the family to gather at the close of the evening 
 and sing the dear old favorites, such as "Abide 
 with me," "Lead, kindly Light," and "Sun of 
 my soul, thou Saviour dear," is to send all to 
 rest with a benediction. There are popular 
 melodies, rollicking college songs, tender old 
 ballads, which have a melody and grace of their 
 own, and which make a swift and tender appeal 
 to the sentiments of faith, love, and loyalty. 
 Our patriotic and martial strains should be 
 sung often in every home, and school, and 
 church. While, so far as we can, we should seek 
 the best we should not scorn second-best in our 
 own performances, if that is all which lies 
 within our reach. 
 
 I would have girls learn, what is after all not 
 
 so simple a thing as it sounds, the accomplish- 
 84
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 ment of playing an accurate accompaniment to 
 the songs of another. A good accompanist is a 
 social benefactress, and on occasion she may 
 make her skill pecuniarily profitable. Then, 
 too, I would have all players assiduously culti- 
 vate a musical memory, so that they may be set 
 free from the bondage of notes, and I would also 
 like them to be swift and sure sight readers, so 
 that at an instant's call they could play a score 
 and relieve the embarrassment of any occasion 
 where an expected performer had fallen out of 
 line. 
 
 I am not speaking here of the subtle and sweet 
 interpretations of the great masters, nor of those 
 who have learned to play as professionals do. I 
 am asking only that as a contribution to the 
 gayety of life we may still have our home per- 
 formers. 
 
 There is a lovely poem of Frances Ridley 
 Havergal which illustrates what I mean : 
 
 "Sing to the little children 
 
 And they will listen well, 
 Sing grand and holy music, 
 For they can feel its spell. 
 ***** 
 7 85
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 "I remember, late one evening, 
 
 How the music stopped, for, hark ! 
 Charlie's nursery door was open, 
 
 He was calling in the dark. 
 *O, no ! I am not frightened, 
 
 And I do not want a light ; 
 But I cannot sleep for thinking 
 
 Of the song you sang last night. 
 Something about a "valley" 
 
 And "make rough places plain," 
 And, "Comfort ye," so beautiful ! 
 
 O, sing it me again.' 
 
 "Sing in the deepening twilight 
 
 When the shadow of eve is nigh, 
 And the purple and golden pinions 
 
 Fold o'er the western sky. 
 Sing in the silver silence 
 
 While the first moonbeams fall ; 
 So shall your power be greater 
 
 Over the hearts of all. 
 Sing till you bear them with you 
 
 Into a holy calm, 
 And the sacred tones have scattered 
 
 Manna and myrrh and balm. 
 
 "Sing that your song may gladden ; 
 
 Sing like the happy rills 
 Leaping in sparkling blessing, 
 
 Fresh from the breezy hills. 
 Sing that your song may silence 
 
 The folly and the jest, 
 And the 'idle word' be banished 
 
 As an unwelcome guest. 
 Sing that your song may echo 
 
 After the strain is, past 
 A link of the love-wrought cable 
 
 That holds some vessel fast. 
 86
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 "Sing to the tired and anxious ; 
 
 It is yours to fling a ray, 
 Passing indeed, but cheering, 
 
 Across the rugged way. 
 
 "When you long to bear the message 
 
 Home to some troubled breast, 
 Then sing with loving fervor, 
 
 'Come unto Me and rest !' 
 Or, would you whisper comfort 
 
 When words bring no relief, 
 Sing how 'He was despised, 
 
 Acquainted with our grief,' 
 And aided by His blessing 
 
 The song may win its way 
 Where speech had no admittance, 
 
 And change its night to day." 
 
 When the sweet singer who wrote these stan- 
 zas was lying in the hush of her last illness she 
 was heard to whisper, "Splendid to he so near 
 the gates of heaven!" "So beautiful to go!" 
 With her failing voice, hardly more than a sigh, 
 she breathed forth one of her best loved hymns, 
 "Jesus, I will trust thee," to a tune of her own 
 composing. 
 
 "Then," said her sister, "she looked up stead- 
 fastly as if she saw the Lord ! and surely nothing 
 less heavenly could have reflected such a glori- 
 ous radiance upon her face. For ten minutes 
 we watched that almost visible meeting with her 
 
 King, and her countenance was so glad, as if she 
 87
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 were already talking to him. Then she tried 
 to sing, but after one sweet, high note, her voice 
 failed, and as her brother commended her soul 
 to the Redeemer's hand she passed away !" 
 
 I have purposely introduced this little ac- 
 count of the last scene of a beautiful earthly 
 life, because it seems plain to me that our young 
 people might make so much use, if they would, 
 of a ministry of music in their daily life. I 
 do not say in their religious life, for there can 
 be no separation, in a truly consecrated heart, 
 between one part of duty and toother. Every 
 bit of life is hallowed if indeed we belong to the 
 King ; and all service rendered to him, in what- 
 soever place, must be fit to ask his blessing upon. 
 If Christ were sitting in our drawing-room, 
 what sort of music should we play ? What songs 
 should we sing ? That is always a true test, and 
 whosoever is willing to bring to it any question 
 of right or wrong will speedily find it answered 
 
 and, once for all, settled. 
 88
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 OF BEAUTY AND ITS CHARM 
 
 A VERY wise woman once said that "the great- 
 est of blessings for some people would be to 
 learn to accept themselves and their gifts. If 
 they could stand apart from themselves awhile 
 and see their becoming points much of their 
 repining would be dropped." Every thing and 
 every body is beautiful in its season. There 
 is a wholesome plainness that accords with 
 domestic life and natural surroundings, as the 
 bark of trees relieves their green. The color 
 of health and the gentleness and sweetness that 
 come of a conquered self are elements of beauty 
 that make any face tolerable. 
 
 How dear are the faces of those that have 
 watched our childhood, with whom we have 
 grown up so closely that feature and form have 
 lost their significance and we really do not know 
 whether they are homely or not, and see only the 
 love that lives in them. 
 
 I often wonder why women care so much 
 
 about their looks. Youth has a rare perfection 
 89
 
 CHEEEFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 belonging to itself. To be young is to be lovely, 
 unless the young face be spoiled by ill temper 
 or self will, or an expression of contempt or 
 disdain. A clear pure complexion, bright eyes, 
 smooth hair, are within the grasp of anyone who 
 lives according to the laws of health, eats nour- 
 ishing food, takes sufficient sleep, and bathes 
 with regularity. Water, air, food, exercise, 
 these are the requirements of health, and health 
 is the basis of beauty. 
 
 Beyond this the mind enters in as a factor, 
 and the mind not only governs the body but per- 
 vades it as a lamp scatters the darkness in a 
 room. A lovety soul makes a lovely face. 
 
 I have seen a young woman reared in the close 
 surrounding atmosphere of a tenement neigh- 
 borhood, a neighborhood where eighteen hun- 
 dred people were packed and crowded into one 
 short block. That girl has known nothing of 
 sweetness and light. Her ears have heard 
 coarse words, her eyes have seen dirt and dis- 
 order, she has known drunkenness and brutality, 
 meanness and sordidness, through her child- 
 hood and youth. In her countenance lived no 
 refinement and little brightness. Even the 
 
 usual prettiness of girlhood had not stamped her 
 90
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOKROWS 
 
 form and figure, bowed by much carrying about 
 of heavy babies while she was a child and by 
 strenuous labor in a hot factory when she first 
 grew up. 
 
 Brought into the pleasant and serene atmos- 
 phere of a Girls' Club, taught that the world 
 held friends, and brought to know the best 
 Friend, I have seen the roughness and coarse- 
 ness drop from such a nature, as a withered husk 
 from a flower, and the bud open in strange 
 purity and fragrance. Day by day there has 
 dawned a new charm in the features, which have 
 visibly softened; day by day a lovelier beauty 
 has been marked, as gentleness replaced rude- 
 ness and love did its mellowing work. 
 
 No one has ever engaged in a hand to hand 
 conflict with poverty and sin without seeing 
 that, as Christ's dear ones were rescued from the 
 adversary, there came to them a wonderful im- 
 provement of personality as part of their 
 redemption. 
 
 In our cheerful outlook on life we must not 
 forget this dominance of mind over body, nor 
 ignore the potentiality of the spiritual over the 
 material. And it is beneath the attention of 
 
 no sensible woman or man, for that matter 
 91
 
 CHEEEFDL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 to care enough for dress to make dress appro- 
 priate to every occasion. The fashion of the 
 hour allows much latitude ; we may be costumed 
 in accordance with convenience and yet not out- 
 rage public opinion. Our girls go where they 
 will in short skirts and thick boots; even our 
 elderly women adopt a toilette for storms and 
 rainy weather at which the conservative used to 
 shake very doubtful heads. A little study of 
 colors and shapes, above all an exquisite neat- 
 ness and tidiness, will go far toward making 
 women ideally charming in their homes. 
 
 We who are young are insensibly making the 
 women we are to be by and by. The girl of 
 twenty is the artist in whose hands lies her 
 future self of forty; the woman of forty, and 
 she alone, can indicate the woman of sixty. 
 Why are women so desperately shy of lines and 
 wrinkles? These are not necessarily deface- 
 ments; they are often enhancements of charm. 
 Nothing can possibly be more pitiful than an 
 elderly face in which the lines are painfully 
 smoothed out by anxious massage and the use 
 of cosmetics. Life should write its history in 
 every woman's face. The comeliness of youth 
 
 is of another order than the attractiveness of a 
 92
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 later period. A very plain young woman may be 
 handsome in middle age, and a singularly beau- 
 tiful girl may grow ordinary and inconspicuous 
 when old. In the eyes of husband, father, 
 brother and lover beauty is not a mere affair 
 of tint and air; it is freely accorded to those 
 who make for them the sunshine of their days. 
 
 To the Turk, a mountain of flesh with folds 
 of fat hanging from her chin is eminently pleas- 
 ing. For the Chinese, the spectacle of an 
 enameled lady tottering on tiny deformed feet 
 fills perfectly his strange ideal. We look for 
 dignity, composure, and gentleness, and as their 
 fitting accompaniment expect symmetry and 
 grace. 
 
 Euskin sums up the idea of the modern 
 woman in a famous passage: "The woman's 
 power is for rule, not for battle, and her intel- 
 lect is not for invention or creation, but for 
 sweet ordering, arrangement and decision. She 
 sees the qualities of things, their claims and 
 their places. Her great function is Praise ; she 
 enters into no contest, but infallibly judges the 
 crown of contest. By her office and place she 
 is protected from all danger and temptation. 
 
 The man in his rough work in the open world 
 93
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 must encounter all peril and trial; to him, 
 therefore, the failure, the offense, the inevita- 
 ble error ; often he must be wounded or subdued, 
 often misled, and always hardened. But he 
 guards the woman from all this; within his 
 house, as ruled by her, unless she herself has 
 sought it, need enter no danger, no temptation, 
 no cause of error or offense. This is the true 
 nature of home; it is the place of peace; the 
 shelter not only from all injury but from all 
 terror, doubt and division. 
 
 "In so far as it is not this it is not home. So 
 far as the anxieties of the outer life penetrate 
 into it, and the inconsistently-minded, un- 
 known, unloved, or hostile society of the outer 
 world is allowed by either husband or wife to 
 cross the threshold, it ceases to be home; it is 
 then only a part of that outer world which you 
 have roofed over and lighted fire in. But so 
 far as it is a sacred place, a vestal temple, a tem- 
 ple watched over by the household gods before 
 whose faces none may come but those whom 
 they can receive with love, so far as it is this, 
 and roof and fire are types only of a nobler 
 shade and light shade as of the rocks in the 
 
 weary land, and light as of the Pharos in the 
 94
 
 TEUSTFUL TO-MOBEOWS 
 
 stormy sea so far it vindicates the name and 
 fulfills the praise of home." 
 
 What has this to do with beauty? Every- 
 thing. For beauty is harmony, beauty is pro- 
 portion, beauty is a rhythm in which there is no 
 discord. When one meets a thoroughly poised 
 and balanced nature one meets beauty, and it is 
 instantly recognized and immediately begins 
 its work of beneficence. 
 
 One finds it difficult and elusive when one 
 endeavors to give it definition. Witness the 
 laborious efforts of certain novelists who have 
 tried ( to depict their heroines, telling of features, 
 skin, hair, and eyes, and leaving one as ignorant 
 at the end as at the beginning of the real ap- 
 pearance of the subject. So truth-telling a 
 medium as the camera is often misleading, for 
 beauty resides in expression rather than in ex- 
 ternals which grief may corrode, illness mar, 
 and the advance of time destroy. 
 
 "I have never before met people with such 
 light in their faces," said one who entered a 
 company where Christ's love was the pervading 
 note. The blessedness and the purity of their 
 high communion so exalted them that the very 
 
 lines of their countenances were ennobled. 
 95
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTEE XII 
 MOTHERS AND SONS 
 
 THE mother was tall and fair and blue-eyed, 
 a well-balanced, strong and cheery woman. 
 Her boys were like her; her daughter repeated 
 the traits of her poet father, and was slight, 
 and dark, and given to day dreams. It was a 
 happy household, full of interest, never dull, 
 never two days alike; it had as many changes 
 and varying aspects as the sky. Around it, set 
 in its beautiful garden of flowers roses, lilies, 
 violets, pansies, every sweet blooming and per- 
 fumed blossom you could imagine stretched 
 the endless Florida forests, the straight pines 
 standing solemnly like sentries, the weird moss 
 draping the branches, the red bird and the 
 mocking bird flitting to and fro. 
 
 The family were always poor, and often they 
 had no balance in any bank save that of faith, 
 so that when the flour was low in the barrel, and 
 the meal was nearly out, the mother would go to 
 
 her closet and say simply, "Lord, thou seest my 
 96
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 need. Send help soon. Thou openest thine 
 hand and satisfiest the desire of every living 
 thing. Give us this day our daily bread." And 
 that day, though the poems sent so wistfully to 
 the far-away magazines and papers at the north 
 often came flying back with a polite letter of 
 rejection, there would come instead a more wel- 
 come letter with a check, and then there would 
 be a fete day. A neighbor, anybody within four 
 miles was a neighbor, would lend his old rock- 
 away and his staid and quiet horse, and my 
 friend and two or three of the children would 
 jog to the nearest town and, as she gayly said, 
 provision the garrison. 
 
 If the dear house-mother had been ever so 
 rich she would still have had to do her own 
 work, in that vicinity, for everybody else did 
 the same, and help from outside was not to 
 be had. Husband and children lent their will- 
 ing hands, and there was no housework which 
 the boys were ashamed or afraid to undertake, 
 from dish washing to the harder labor of the 
 laundry. These lads, who could iron and bake 
 and sweep and make beds, were prepared for 
 college by their parents, and successively went 
 
 there, and were graduated with honors, paying 
 97
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 their own way for the most part, and enduring 
 hardness like good soldiers. 
 
 I used to receive long merry letters from this 
 hrave lady, a mother of men who fulfilled my 
 ideal of what such a mother's boys should be; 
 letters bright, chatty, sparkling with wit and 
 anecdote, written by bits and snatches as she 
 waited for the loaves in the oven to brown, or 
 laid aside her mending for a moment's rest. 
 She would speak of the lad at her knee reciting 
 his Latin grammar propped up before her 
 kneading board, or would apologize for an in- 
 terrupted paragraph by explaining that Don- 
 ald had just called her to come to his den and 
 listen to his last story or ballad before he sent 
 it away on its voyage in search of a port. 
 "Somehow," she would add, "Donald thinks the 
 poems have a better chance if they go off with 
 my blessing mine ! and I couldn't write a 
 couplet to save my life." She could do better; 
 she could be her husband's inspiration and his 
 cheery comrade on the roughest road, always 
 heartening him by her quips and sallies, always 
 having herself the grace of going merrily 
 onward. 
 
 A hard-working, far-reaching, useful life was 
 98
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 this, as the lives of good mothers must ever be. 
 Her sons to-day represent her in many fields, 
 they are active in countless endeavors for good; 
 they are the unselfish, loyal and devoted hus- 
 bands that such a mother could train to lift a 
 little the burden of the great world. 
 
 To speak of the mother-brooding which en- 
 folds the opening years of a man's life as the 
 dearest experience which life will ever hold for 
 him may be in a sense untrue. Man must live 
 through multiform experiences and taste many 
 a cup divinely brewed. There are for him sac- 
 ramental days which lift him up to a plane of 
 almost heavenly joy here and there on his prog- 
 ress through the world. The day when he defi- 
 nitely decides to stand for Christ against the 
 temptations of lower ambition and mere tem- 
 poral advantage is forever after starred for him 
 in happiest memory. 
 
 The day when he finds his ideal enshrined in 
 a fair woman, and she returns his love in sweet 
 trustfulness and gracious surrender, is thence- 
 forward a glad anniversary. 
 
 The day when the cry of the firstborn is in the 
 house and the sweetness of heaven haloes the 
 
 face of the mother is set apart as the day of the 
 99
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 solemn feast, of the crowning and the laurel. 
 Yet, more and more, as time goes on and youth 
 passes, the heart of the son turns yearningly to 
 the golden dawn when mother love made his 
 childhood safe and sheltered and beautiful. 
 
 There is something of the woman nature in 
 every finely tempered man, as the best women, 
 on the other hand, have derived something from 
 the father. Each sex complements the other in 
 a mysterious but evident exchange of gifts, so 
 that, were such a thing possible, a wholly fem- 
 inine woman would be not altogether pleasing, 
 and a wholty masculine man would be somewhat 
 too arbitrary, if not too overbearing and per- 
 haps brutal of type. In the highest style of 
 manhood and womanhood we find the human 
 element composed of the best in both halves of 
 the race, so that daughters are often most like 
 fathers, and sons most like mothers, from a law 
 which goes deep into the primitive conditions of 
 being. The mother who would see her sons grow 
 up worthily must not count her life dear in the 
 years when they are under her molding hand. 
 She must share their pursuits from the era of 
 balls and tops to the era of falling in love. 
 
 Never to lose her bov's confidence is the 
 100"
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 wisest counsel which can be given a mother, but 
 how is she to attain this end ? Only by putting 
 and keeping her boys first. Only by subordinat- 
 ing other engagements, of pleasure, of society, 
 of church work, of philanthropy, to the more 
 important appointments she has in the nursery, 
 on the playground and around the evening 
 lamp. She should know her boys' companions, 
 and be their friend, and partially their 
 confidante. 
 
 A woman whose sweet face rises in my 
 thought has done this for her son, though she 
 has been handicapped by continual literal bond- 
 age to her couch of pain during the years of his 
 childhood and youth. Unable to bear her 
 weight on the floor or to walk a single step, un- 
 able to turn herself in bed without assistance, 
 this woman's indomitable will has united with 
 her Christian courage to keep her from casting 
 a shadow on the wholesome sunshine of her 
 boy's life. She has kept pace with him in his 
 studies and his games, has interviewed his 
 teachers, stimulated him to sustained endeavor, 
 and given him a knowledge of what God's love 
 can make of woman when tried in the furnace 
 
 and seven times purified. 
 8 101
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 If a woman worn with bodily pain and spent 
 with weakness may do so much, what may not 
 one accomplish whose life is unfettered and who 
 is free to go and come as she chooses ? 
 
 One has only to see how quickly the ailing, 
 sobbing baby hushes its querulous cries when 
 taken up in the arms of a tender and loving 
 man, its father or another, with a compassion- 
 ate heart, to realize the secret of strength and 
 gentleness combined, to get at the core of the 
 Psalmist's meaning when he exclaims, "Thy 
 gentleness hath made me great." Passing the 
 love of women, passing the tenderness of women, 
 are the love and the tenderness of men in 
 relations which draw closely upon their reserves 
 of sympathy. A boy who studies the needs and 
 devotes himself to the comfort of an invalid 
 mother will make a considerate husband to some 
 happy woman. What the French call petits 
 soins come readily to men who have had at times 
 in their lives to look out for the welfare of some- 
 what dependent kinswomen. 
 
 But there is another side of the shield. 
 
 When the boys go out from the home nest to 
 the larger world, perhaps to business, perhaps 
 
 to college, the wise mother still keeps in touch 
 102
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 with them. A good many young people in this 
 land have heard of Hugh Beaver, that splendid 
 fellow whose life ended on earth at twenty-four, 
 two years ago, and who suddenly heard the 
 Master's call to "Come up higher!" When 
 Hugh went to college his biographer says that 
 he was "a straight-forward, genial, sunny- 
 hearted boy, but the more serious problems of 
 an earnest life lay before him, and the deeper 
 springs of his character and power were still 
 sealed." His mother wrote to him about this 
 time, "I hope, darling, you have learned the 
 comfort of taking everything to God in prayer. 
 Nothing is too trifling. Be sure to pray before 
 leaving your room in the morning. We need 
 our Father's help and guidance in all that we 
 do. May the Lord bless you, and enable you to 
 live a consistent useful life to his praise and 
 glory, is the prayer of your loving mother." 
 
 A certain strange reluctance comes between 
 some mothers and their sons, when matters re- 
 lating to the Christian life are in concern. If 
 we were close to our Lord would we not be able 
 to overcome this shyness? Yet often the 
 younger heart is waiting and longing for the 
 
 word of counsel, is earnestly desiring that the 
 103
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 older one may take the initiative in the conver- 
 sation. I would that mothers should not only 
 pray for but with their sons, kneeling beside the 
 bed at night, drawing them now and again into 
 their own chambers for a little tender twilight 
 talk. We are too cowardly when we shrink 
 from speaking of the dear Lord, and hesitate 
 to introduce his name into our daily talk in the 
 household. 
 
 So it happens that opportunities are lost. 
 Souls have been almost in contact, but have 
 glided apart. Each goes its separate way. The 
 friend of Christ ah me! was that friend a 
 mother ? has been silent, and timorous, and so 
 the Beloved has withdrawn himself and is gone. 
 Looking at her sturdy little man, mother may 
 feel like saying : 
 
 "My laddie, O my laddie, I am wistful as I clasp 
 Your little hand within my own, and think how 
 
 many men 
 Gone far from earth and memory, beyond our mortal 
 
 grasp, 
 
 Are living and are breathing, dear child, in you 
 again. 
 
 "My laddie of the golden hair, there stand at God's 
 
 right hand 
 
 His saints who went through blood and Same, the 
 yeomen of our line ; 
 
 104
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 And there are seraphs singing in the glorious better 
 
 land 
 
 Whose heart-beats kept, when here on earth, the 
 pace of yours and mine. 
 
 "Kneel, little laddie, at my side ; there's no defense 
 
 like this, 
 An evening prayer in childish trust, and let him 
 
 scoff who may ; 
 
 A daily prayer to God above, a gentle mother's kiss, 
 Will keep my little laddie safe, however dark the 
 day." 
 
 "What shall I do about taking my restless 
 boys to church ?" asked a mother of a dear aged 
 minister who had been her girlhood's pastor. 
 "They do not understand the services, and find 
 them tedious ; they fidget and complain of Sun- 
 day as a wearisome day. Would I not do better 
 to postpone their church-going until they are 
 older?" 
 
 "No," was the reply. "Train them up in the 
 way they should go. By accustoming them to 
 constant attendance in God's house, you will 
 form in them a good habit." We are unfortu- 
 nately bringing up a generation which does not 
 feel the obligation of keeping holy the Lord's 
 Day, which acts its own pleasure, not seeks to 
 know God's will in this matter. Mothers must 
 
 look to this and reform it. 
 105
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Indeed they can. And here let me add that 
 good behavior in church is just as important as 
 good behavior anywhere else, and part of it 
 begins at the very beginning ; in being in church 
 a little while before the service commences. In 
 our home in my childhood, at family worship, 
 my father had a way, which I remember pleas- 
 antly in contrast with the hurrying methods of 
 to-day, of starting everything with a margin, 
 so that nobody should be late. He insisted that 
 the young people of the house should always 
 come to prayers if they were well, and he him- 
 self, Bible in hand, would be seated five minutes 
 before the appointed time, waiting for us all to 
 come. I can see him now across the years, his 
 gray hair brushed back from his serene face, his 
 eyes lighted with a rare inner smile, his look 
 expressing the greatest patience. 
 
 "I like to compose my mind," he would say, 
 "before I enter the presence of the King." 
 
 I can hear him softly crooning his favorite 
 hymn, if I lean back in my chair and listen 
 hear it as if the voice which sung these stanzas 
 had not been for many long years singing with 
 the Redeemer above. And his voice was very 
 
 sweet as he sang: 
 
 106
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 "How happy are they 
 
 Who the Saviour obey, 
 And have laid up their treasure above. 
 
 O what tongue can express 
 
 The sweet comfort and peace 
 Of a soul in its earliest love." 
 
 One of the unwritten laws always observed 
 in this good man's home was that nobody should 
 be tardy to church. This habit clings to me 
 still. I am distressed and humiliated if ever by 
 accident I am so late that I must walk down the 
 aisle after the pastor has begun the service. It 
 seems to me as impolite to be late at church as 
 to be late at any other function which has a 
 fixed hour for starting. 
 
 Besides, it is really unnecessary. The habit- 
 ually tardy person usually catches his train, if 
 this is important in his day's engagements, and 
 the train labeled, "Divine service, half-past ten 
 o'clock," can be as easily caught if one chooses 
 to take pains in the matter. 
 
 I hold that the thoroughly well-bred person 
 will be well behaved in church. He or she will 
 sit still. He will not whisper, she will not gig- 
 gle, neither will comment on the people who 
 have come to church, neither will make secular 
 
 engagements while service is going on. Above 
 107
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 all things no decently behaved person will read 
 printed calendars, or turn over leaflets, or pull 
 letters from his pocket, or fumble through the 
 hymn-book, while the Commandments or the 
 Scripture lessons are being read. I have seen 
 well-dressed and intelligent people doing these 
 things, and they were convicted of impoliteness 
 and lack of training by their actions. 
 
 Crowning impropriety of all, no one with any 
 claim to good breeding will pull out a watch 
 and consult it during the service. 
 
 I observe that many persons coming late 
 into church drop their heads upon their pews for 
 their private devotions with no reference to 
 what is going on at the moment. This does not 
 seem to me quite right. A better way is to 
 unite in whatever part of the service is in prog- 
 ress; one's own little prayer being supposed to 
 anticipate the entire worship, not to interject 
 itself on the worship which is appointed. As 
 the old Psalm has it, we may declare : 
 
 "I joyed when to the house of God 
 
 Go up, they said to me. 
 Jerusalem, within thy gates 
 Our feet shall standing be." 
 
 'If I forget thee, Jerusalem, let my right 
 
 hand forget her cunning." "I would rather be a 
 108
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOEEOWS 
 
 doorkeeper in the house of my God than to dwell 
 in the tents of wickedness." 
 
 This is the heart's cry of the generation which 
 are brought up to serve the King in his sacred 
 courts. 
 
 In the intercourse of families there is often 
 too little demonstration. Affection should 
 freely express itself. We are much too apt to 
 take for granted the fact that we love one an- 
 other. In the truly well-regulated Christian 
 household there is little need for discipline as 
 expressed in punishment. Coercion is un- 
 heard of. A habit of referring everything to the 
 arbitration of the Heavenly Father keeps dis- 
 obedience to the earthly parents far from the 
 happy fold. The mother should not exact of 
 her boys submission to her authority because she 
 intimates a wish ; she stands to them as one who 
 is carrying out the will of God, and who desires 
 to help them to understand and obey the same 
 sweet will. There can be no jars in a home 
 attuned to the Divine harmonies. Let the 
 mother dwell with God and her children will be 
 brought into God's Kingdom. 
 
 "I saw the Holy Spirit shining in my mother's 
 
 face through all my boyhood," said a college 
 109
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 professor, "and her piety and faithfulness drew 
 us, a large family, safe into the service of the 
 Master, though our father was not a Christian 
 until we were all grown up." 
 
 A mother should be satisfied for her children 
 with no development but the best, and the best 
 is not found outside of that company in which 
 Jesus is the chief and the dearest guest. 
 
 "In the secret of his presence 
 From the hurrying world I hide, 
 
 In the secret of his presence 
 Very safely I abide. 
 
 And he gives me many a sign 
 Of his grace and love divine. 
 
 "Care and labor are my portion, 
 
 Toil and care till evensong, 
 But the hours, though often weary, 
 
 Never drag their load along. 
 For the blessing of the Master 
 
 Makes the heaviest burden light, 
 In the secret of bis presence 
 
 When I dwell from morn till night. 
 
 "In the secret of his presence 
 
 Any cross he bids me take, 
 Garlanded with sweetest flowers, 
 
 Wears the legend 'For his sake.' 
 I am happy as I serve him, 
 
 Happy as I walk the road 
 Which my Master went before me, 
 
 Straight unto the throne of God. 
 For he gives me many a sign 
 
 Of his grace and power divine." 
 110
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOEEOWS 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 LINKED WITH MANY LIVES 
 
 THE recluse shuts himself in his study, finds 
 delight in his books or his musings and shuns 
 society. He may do no man wrong, he may 
 even do good after a fashion of his own, but he 
 lives a self-centered and self-absorbed life. It 
 is better that one should touch others at many 
 points, that one should be interested in his fel- 
 lows, that more and more one should seek to 
 know and to care for persons outside of his own 
 immediate circle, and to observe life and affairs 
 from a viewpoint that is not wholly one's own. 
 
 At an early age the threads of contact with 
 other homes begin to weave themselves into the 
 woof of our being. First the kindred are our 
 only associates, the father, mother, grandfather 
 and grandmother, brothers, sisters, uncles, 
 aunts, cousins. The family feeling strikes deep 
 roots; we care for those of our own blood, we 
 belong to them, and they to us. But with 
 school days we begin to form our friendships 
 
 beyond the threshold of the home. There is a 
 111
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 little golden-haired girl who sits beside us in the 
 class, there is a shock-headed boy who walks 
 home from school with us, and we learn through 
 intercourse with them that there are people 
 worth knowing in the world besides those who 
 live at our house. I sat beside a child's desk 
 this summer in a little red schoolhouse in the 
 mountains and Whittier's lines came back 
 to me: 
 
 "Still sits the schoolhouse by the road, 
 
 A ragged beggar sleeping; 
 Around it still the sumachs grow 
 
 And blackberry vines are creeping. 
 
 "Within, the master's desk is seen 
 
 Deep scarred by raps official, 
 The warping floor, the battered seats, 
 
 The jackknife's carved initial. 
 
 "The charcoal frescoes on its wall, 
 
 Its door's worn sill, betraying 
 The feet that, creeping slow to school, 
 
 Went storming out to playing ! 
 
 "Long years ago a winter sun 
 
 Shone over it at setting ; 
 Lit up its western window panes 
 
 And 'low eaves' icy-fretting. 
 
 "It touched the tangled golden curls 
 And brown eyes, full of grieving, 
 
 Of one who still her steps delayed 
 When all the school were leaving. 
 112
 
 TEUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 "For near her stood the little boy 
 
 Her childish favor singled ; 
 His cap pulled low upon a face 
 
 Where pride and shame were mingled. 
 
 "Pushing with restless feet the snow 
 To right and left he lingered ; 
 
 As restlessly her tiny hands 
 
 The blue checked apron fingered. 
 
 "He saw her lift her eyes ; he felt 
 The soft hand's light caressing, 
 
 And heard the tremble of her voice 
 As if a fault confessing. 
 
 " 'I'm sorry that I spelt the word ; 
 
 I hate to go above you, 
 Because,' the brown eyes lower fell, 
 
 'Because, you see, I love you.' 
 
 "Still memory to a gray-haired man 
 That sweet child-face is showing ; 
 
 Dear girl, the grasses o'er her grave 
 Have forty years been growing. 
 
 "He lives to learn in life's hard school 
 How few who pass above him 
 
 Lament their triumph and his loss 
 Because, like her, they love him." 
 
 Some of my happiest recollections are of my 
 school days when I was a rosy romping child 
 drawn to school over the snow on a playmate's 
 sled. The red apples and doughnuts which 
 
 we shared at luncheon had a toothsome flavor 
 113
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 unsurpassed by any delicate viands of later 
 years. As a child of ten, in a school on the 
 banks of the Passaic conducted by three lovely 
 sisters who have gone to their rest, leaving be- 
 hind them the record of a fruitful life full of 
 faithful work for the Master, I formed some of 
 life's most lasting friendships. Still, in our 
 autumn, women who were girls with me in the 
 sweet spring of our days come to sit beside my 
 fire, and to talk over the lessons we were taught 
 by Miss Anna and Miss Elizabeth Eogers. Our 
 beautiful sainted Miss Jane went very early to 
 the other land, ere her youth had faded, and 
 while her cheek was round and her dark eyes 
 bright with the light of love and joy. 
 
 From those dear teachers I first learned that 
 life cannot be lived alone, that each life must 
 link itself with many others. We are partakers 
 of that Divine nature which gathers to its breast 
 and bears upon its everlasting arms the suc- 
 cessive generations of our race. In God's heart 
 there is room for all. Our Saviour in his won- 
 derful prayer before he left the world included 
 his own who should believe in him to every age, 
 and the sweet meaning comforts us in all tribu- 
 lation ; the tender fullness of that prayer makes 
 114
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 glad our waste places, and feeds our soul hun- 
 ger. Eeverently may we in one respect com- 
 pare ourselves with God, for, made in his image, 
 he has not habited us in mean raiment, or com- 
 pelled us to dwell in cramped quarters. Our 
 souls live in palaces many-chambered, and fair, 
 and in one room we receive some of our guests, 
 and in another we welcome others, and there 
 are beautiful withdrawing rooms where we hold 
 converse with our very dearest dear. 
 
 We need not be afraid of making new friend- 
 ships. Love in its supremest royalty comes 
 not to everyone. There are beautiful natures 
 which, for one reason or another, dwell in sin- 
 gleness throughout their pilgrimage, but these 
 are very often most generously endowed with a 
 capacity for making and keeping friends. 
 
 Besides, in the changes of. the swiftly moving 
 years, the landscape of our lives is always sub- 
 ject to alteration. 
 
 "Friend after friend departs. 
 
 Who hath not lost a friend? 
 There is no union here of hearts 
 
 That finds not here an end." 
 
 We must keep adding to our stock of friends, 
 
 must be responsive to new claimants, must keep 
 115
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 open doors for the good and the true. How de- 
 lightful it is to think not only of all the pleasant 
 people we have met but of the unknown visit- 
 ants whom we are yet to meet. We never go 
 to an unfamiliar town, to a mountain or sea- 
 side hostelry, to a little hamlet high up and hid- 
 den away in the hills, that we do not discover 
 somebody who on one side of our nature attracts 
 us ; somebody whom we can bless by our giving 
 or from whom we can take a blessing. 
 
 We retain our youth by our susceptibility to 
 friendship. He who has lost desire to win and 
 pleasure in keeping friends has gone far into the 
 shadowy realm of old age. Selfishness may 
 breed a premature decrepitude of the affections. 
 We must be careful not to lose interest in our 
 neighbors, not to become indifferent to ac- 
 quaintances new or of longer standing. 
 
 Our lives may go out into all the earth if we 
 are coworkers in the great missionary move- 
 ments for evangelizing the world. Away off in 
 New Mexico, many miles from kith and kin, 
 in a community where none but themselves 
 speak English, two brave girls are teaching 
 little children the way of life, and showing 
 
 to those around them the light of a Christian. 
 116
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOEBOWS 
 
 home. God bless our fearless home mission- 
 aries, working steadfastly for him in dark cor- 
 ners where they face peril, loneliness and dis- 
 couragement. Out in Dakota, in a sod house, 
 dwell a missionary family, father, mother, chil- 
 dren, in poverty and privation, fighting for the 
 Master, and making a center for his disciples 
 to gather around him. Shall we not care for 
 these not merely by sending a box or a barrel, 
 now and then, filled with needed clothing 
 and household supplies by our prayers, our 
 thoughts, our love? 
 
 Far over the ocean, in Northern India, in 
 China, in Japan, in the Islands under our flag, 
 there are heroic men and women toiling "In His 
 Name." Our beloved foreign missionaries are 
 too often forgotten when they are off, beyond 
 our sight and hearing, in the remoteness of their 
 exile. 
 
 "The greatest hardship the missionary has 
 to bear/' says Dr. R. B. Peary, "is his loneliness 
 and isolation. Separated almost entirely from 
 his own race, he is deprived of all those social 
 joys that are so dear to him. The thought of 
 his kinsmen and friends is ever in his mind, but, 
 
 alas! they are so far away. He must go on, 
 9 117
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 year after year, living among a people from 
 whom an impassable gulf separates him, leading 
 the same lonely life. For the first year or two 
 he rather enjoys the quiet and privacy, but by 
 and by it becomes almost unendurable." 
 
 Dr. Edmund Lawrence, on the same subject 
 thus sums up the whole matter, "Very many 
 of the missionary's heaviest burdens are in- 
 cluded in the one word, whose height and 
 breadth and length and depth none knows so 
 well as he the word 'exile.' It is not merely 
 a physical exile from home and country and all 
 their interests; it is not only an intellectual 
 exile from all that would feed and stimulate the 
 mind ; it is yet more, a spiritual exile from the 
 guidance, the instruction, the support, the fel- 
 lowship and the communion of the church at 
 home/' 
 
 Furthermore, after a few years of absence, 
 the missionary hears seldom from the home 
 land, except as official communications come 
 from the boards of the church, or epistles arrive 
 from his immediate family. "Even these latter 
 become less and less frequent. The arrival of 
 the mails, which at first was looked forward to 
 
 with so much joy, is now scarcely noted. After 
 118
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 a few years of residence in the East one feels 
 that he is largely out of touch with the life of 
 the West, and that he is forgotten by home and 
 friends." 
 
 Here may some of us not discover a mission ? 
 May we not devote some part of our time to the 
 sending of good cheer to our foreign mission- 
 aries? Not writing them perfunctory letters, 
 nor filling those we do send with exclusively 
 religious news, but giving them glimpses of our 
 life at home, of our books, our music, our pic- 
 tures, and our household gayeties. Even our 
 new bonnets may interest a missionary woman 
 living where nobody wears a bonnet. 
 
 The main thing is to remember that no man 
 liveth to himself and no man dieth to himself; 
 that we are bound in one bundle, and must bear 
 one another's burdens, and, if we would be 
 Christ-like, must keep in touch with many lives. 
 
 Shall I show you a leaf, now, from the daily 
 life of a home missionary? 
 
 The wind whistled and the snow sifted into 
 every crevice of the log cabin in which Mr. and 
 Mrs. Harmstead and their children had made 
 their home for the last six months. They had 
 
 carefully stuffed every aperture with rags and 
 119
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 paper, and covered the walls with pictures cut 
 from the old numbers of Harper's Weekly and 
 other periodicals which found their way to this 
 little Western home. Still, there were nooks 
 and crannies which neither wife nor husband 
 could make so weathertight that they were 
 proof against the wild storms of the region. A 
 year ago their home had been more comfortable, 
 but in a fierce cyclone, months before, the little 
 frame house had been blown down, and the only 
 place in which the missionary and his wife could 
 find shelter was this little log cabin, originally 
 built by a settler who had in time abandoned it 
 for more comfortable quarters. The church 
 next door was really a better refuge against 
 winter storms than the house in which the min- 
 ister had his dwelling. Indeed, there were oc- 
 casions when Mrs. Harmstead was compelled to 
 hurry her brood out of the cabin and into the 
 church that they might sleep in some degree of 
 warmth and comfort. The benches on which 
 the children sat at the table belonged to the 
 church, and were carried in there for services 
 on Sundays, and on week days when the people 
 came to prayer meeting. 
 
 This morning it seemed to the Harmsteads 
 120
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORBOWS 
 
 that it would be safer to move over into the 
 church till the weather changed. So, taking a 
 few necessary cooking utensils and what bed- 
 ding they could carry, the family migrated, 
 fearing that the storm would make it impossible 
 for them to do so later in the day. The church 
 could at least be made comfortable. 
 
 Once settled there, Mr. Harmstead seated 
 himself in a corner to study his sermon for the 
 next day, while his wife established the chil- 
 dren with their books and toys, and herself read 
 for the twentieth time a letter which had 
 reached her a day or two previous. 
 
 The letter was from the ladies of the church 
 at home to which she had belonged in her girl- 
 hood. When Emily Fuller married Duncan 
 Harmstead there was no prettier girl or fairer 
 bride in all the township and surrounding 
 country. A college graduate, she was familiar 
 with the best that books and art could give her, 
 and her home had been replete with every re- 
 finement and the comforts which people in 
 ordinary circumstances in the East enjoy as a 
 matter of course. Going with her husband to 
 his field of service in Nebraska, the young wife 
 
 understood that she was accepting hardness, 
 121
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 and that self-denial and privation would to 
 some extent be her portion. The years, seven, 
 since her marriage day, had flown rapidly along, 
 but they had done the work of fourteen on the 
 sweet face of the woman who had shared pov- 
 erty, labor, and many a grief at her husband's 
 side, always uncomplainingly, though the many 
 cares had left their mark upon her nature. She 
 was less hopeful now than once, and sometimes 
 her buoyant faith failed her for a little time. It 
 sometimes seemed as if God had forgotten her. 
 Often she said to herself, "If my dear ones at 
 home realized the daily suffering of a mission- 
 ary's lot, surely they would do something to 
 lighten it." By a series of circumstances not 
 unusual in families, those nearest of kin to her 
 had either died or become so impoverished that 
 they could give her little substantial help, and 
 Mr. Harmstead was a man with few relatives 
 on whom to call. The salary of a home mis- 
 sionary is small at best. In the case of Mr. 
 Harmstead it was seldom fully paid and never 
 promptly. The Board sent some aid to the 
 struggling Western church, but there was al- 
 ways a great discrepancy between income and 
 
 outgo on the part of both the missionary and 
 122
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 the church. The letter read as follows. Mrs. 
 Harmstead knew it by heart : 
 
 "DEAR EMILY : Your old friends in Hazleton 
 Church wish to send you a present which will 
 be just what you want. Now, with the utmost 
 frankness, will you let us know what to pack in 
 the barrel or barrels which we are sending to 
 your far-away home. Do not fail to tell us just 
 what you and the good man and the bairns are 
 most in want of, and so far as we can we will 
 try to meet your needs. We consider this a 
 privilege, and are only sorry that it did not 
 sooner occur to us that for our missionary we 
 might take one dear lady who grew up among 
 us and whom we fondly remember." 
 
 The letter had touched a very tender chord 
 in Mrs. Harmstead's heart, and as she sat down 
 to answer it she was divided between the wish 
 to state exactly her needs and a little feeling of 
 delicacy in revealing the extent of her poverty. 
 She decided at last that candor was the only 
 course; that as God had opened this door for 
 her it was her place to walk through it, not 
 thinking about the impression she would make 
 on her old friends, but merely telling the exact 
 
 truth. So taking her pad and pencil, for the 
 123
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 minister was using the only inkstand and the 
 only pen they possessed, she said : 
 
 "DEAR FRIENDS : I have hesitated a little how 
 to answer your kindest of letters, but I have 
 resolved at last that the only thing for me to do 
 is to be entirely truthful. We are literally in 
 need of everything. My husband is destitute 
 of underclothing (on another slip of paper I 
 give you his size) . He has no overcoat and this 
 weather is freezing. Last winter he wore all 
 the year only a mackintosh, which is now 
 threadbare, and an old shawl of mine wound 
 around his shoulders in the coldest days. 
 Neither my husband nor any of the children 
 have decent stockings or shoes (on another slip 
 of paper I give you the sizes). Little Bertha 
 has outgrown all her frocks, and I have made 
 them over for Ruth. Eddie is in rags and tat- 
 ters ; not one of the children is decently clad or 
 even comfortably. I say nothing about myself ; 
 but I have not had a new gown other than a 
 calico since my marriage, seven years ago, nor 
 have I had a new pair of gloves since that time 
 a pair of mittens would be a luxury. How- 
 ever, it makes very little difference about me ; I 
 
 can stay in the house, but I do long to have 
 124
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOBROWS 
 
 something warm for my husband and something 
 to keep the children from cold and chilblains 
 in this fearfully bitter climate. We do not 
 suffer for lack of food, as our people are very 
 kind, and thus far the Lord has always sent us 
 supplies as he did Elijah by the brook Cherith; 
 but we never have ready money, and when our 
 money does come we have to pay it all out at the 
 store in return for bills that have accrued. I 
 am not sorry that I came with my husband to 
 this hard field. God has sent us here, and he 
 is enabling us to light a candle in a dark place. 
 I have no regrets or repinings. We have been 
 very happy in each other and with our dear chil- 
 dren ; but there come days when we would like 
 to be in touch with our old friends. If you can 
 slip a new book or two into the barrel for my 
 husband it would be an unspeakable boon. He 
 would enjoy Edersheim's Life of Christ so much 
 that I mention it, and that book does not cost 
 very much now, as I see by a paper which comes 
 from some kind friend's hand every week. As 
 I read over what I have written I fear yon will 
 think me lacking in delicacy, for I simply have 
 put in such a revelation of our poverty as you 
 
 hardly believe can exist. So, dear friends, 
 125
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 pack in the barrel what you please, confident 
 that very little can come amiss in our house, 
 and do not forget to pray for your old friend 
 and for the work of God in this distant place. 
 Pray for a blessing on my husband's parish. 
 "Affectionately yours, 
 
 "EMILY HARMSTEAD/' 
 
 A passing teamster took the letter that day 
 to the post office, and in due time it found its 
 way to the Sewing Society in the church which 
 had been Emily Fuller's old home. The ladies 
 were seated in the comfortable church parlor. 
 They were all warmly and beautifully dressed. 
 A sweet-faced woman presided at a table and 
 gave out rolls of garments to the needlewomen ; 
 the flow of talk, with intermittent peals of soft 
 laughter, went smoothly on; there was a pleas- 
 ant air of friendship about the circle. After a 
 while the president rapped on the table for 
 silence and said, "I have a letter to read to you 
 from our old friend, Mrs. Harmstead, who is, as 
 most of you know, a home missionary in Ne- 
 braska. Some weeks ago I wrote asking for 
 just the account she gives of what may be 
 
 needed there, and now I will read us the letter." 
 126
 
 The Sewing Meeting.
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 As she did so a hush fell upon the group. One 
 by one put down her sewing and tears came to 
 eyes which were suddenly blurred. When the 
 letter was finished there was a little spell of 
 quiet, broken by the minister's wife, who said, 
 "Let us pray." Kneeling in her place, she 
 offered a heartfelt prayer for the far-away sister 
 whom they had forgotten and for the work of 
 God which this sister and her husband were 
 carrying on so handicapped. She prayed God, 
 too, to forgive their own neglect and hardness 
 of heart. 
 
 After that, you may be sure, it was not long 
 before contributions came pouring in for the 
 barrels, which were presently packed and on 
 their way to the Harmsteads. It is little to say 
 that every need was supplied. There was a new 
 gown of warm cashmere for Mrs. Harmstead, 
 in the pocket of which was a purse containing 
 a little roll of bills. The minister found in his 
 overcoat a pocketbook also lined pleasantly with 
 money. Everything which the children could 
 require was lovingly inserted here and there in 
 the wonderful barrels, and, best of all, the ladies 
 of the church decided that the thing they would 
 
 next do would be to raise money to 1 erect a snug 
 127
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 parsonage for this minister's family, so that it 
 might not face another Western winter unpro- 
 tected against the elements. 
 
 When the barrels arrived you may be sure 
 there was a deep thanksgiving in the house of 
 the home missionary. A thanksgiving which 
 
 lasted a long time. 
 
 128
 
 TKUSTPUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 THE KEEPING OF HOME ANNIVERSARIES 
 
 OUR American tendency is to diminish the 
 importance of recreation and to set too high a 
 value on work. We are usually obliged to work 
 strenuously, and, far from being a misfortune, 
 this is a blessing, strengthening and toughening 
 character and bracing whatever is best in our 
 mental and moral natures. But play has its 
 uses too, and demonstration, which retires to 
 the background when we are working at high 
 pressure, comes to the front when we take a 
 holiday. 
 
 Birthdays afford an opportunity for fam- 
 ily festivity which should not be overlooked. 
 Mother's birthday, father's birthday, the birth- 
 day of each son and daughter should be ob- 
 served in some pleasant fashion with personal 
 greetings and gifts, with the coming in of 
 friends. Each year, as we enter it, should be 
 marked with a white stone ; it is a stage in our 
 progress; it affords us a chance to turn over a 
 
 new leaf in our life's volume. 
 129
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 The years, slow-footed in childhood, race 
 rapidly onward when we reach the later seasons 
 of our career. There come over us shadows 
 and clouds of depression sometimes as we think 
 how fast they go and how little we have accom- 
 plished. With the poet we exclaim sorrowfully, 
 on some gray November day when the frost is 
 on the stubble and the trees are shivering : 
 
 "We too have autumns when our leaves 
 Drop loosely through the dampened air ; 
 
 When all our good seems bound in sheaves 
 And we stand reaped and bare." 
 
 Such moods should not be encouraged. They 
 rob us of strength, though their tender melan- 
 choly is very attractive. 
 
 Better far is that temper of mind which I 
 remember in my honored father, cheery from 
 youth to age, and singing about the house, 
 with a spirit which care could never daunt nor 
 dim in its radiant brightness. One of his fa- 
 vorite hymns was that dear old lyric of Charles 
 Wesley, with its lilt of the lark uprising in the 
 morning : 
 
 "Come, let us anew our journey pursue, 
 
 Roll round with the year 
 And never stand still till the Master appear. 
 130
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 His adorable will let us gladly fulfill, 
 
 And our talent improve 
 By the patience of hope and the labor of love." 
 
 And another favorite was the hymn in the same 
 peculiar, and at one time popular, measure, con- 
 taining these stanzas : 
 
 "Of heavenly birth, though wandering on earth 
 
 This is not our place ; 
 But strangers and pilgrims ourselves we confess. 
 
 "At Jesus's call we gave up our all ; 
 
 And still we forego, 
 
 For Jesus's sake, our enjoyments below. 
 No longing we find for the country behind, 
 
 But onward we move, 
 And still we are seeking a country above : 
 
 "A country of joy without any alloy ; 
 
 We thither repair ; 
 Our hearts and our treasure already are there. 
 
 ***** 
 "The rougher our way the shorter our stay ; 
 
 The tempests that rise 
 
 Shall gloriously hurry our souls to the skies. 
 The fiercer the blast the sooner 'tis past ; 
 
 The troubles that come 
 Shall come to our rescue, and hasten us home." 
 
 The dominant note of our Christian life 
 should be that of rejoicing. Lifted above 
 anxiety, set free from solicitudes and from irri- 
 tations, we should take time to be happy. 
 
 Every holiday, whether peculiar to our own 
 131
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 home or set in the annual calendar, should ar- 
 rive on our threshold as if it were an angel 
 visitant, and therefore welcome. 
 
 Anniversaries often emphasize the ahsence of 
 dear ones. Our beloved son is in the distant 
 East, keeping Christmas as best he can to the 
 sound of the drum beat and the bugle call in a 
 country which has no reminder of home except 
 the flag under which he serves. But we can 
 pray for him and he need not be left out of the 
 joy, though in visible presence he cannot now 
 share it. It is for the mother whose laddie is 
 out of her sight to be brave and patient in this 
 time of trial which has come to the great 
 republic. 
 
 For such a mother I have written : 
 
 CHRISTMAS FAB AFIELD 
 
 Shut your eyes, mother darling, now shut your eyes 
 
 and sleep, 
 The wind is like a wolf outside, yet do not wake and 
 
 weep ; 
 For overhead the stars are bright, and O ! I see one 
 
 Star 
 
 I'm sure can shine on Willie, it sends its light so far ; 
 Our Willie leal and loving, and in the alien land 
 The one they need to set things right, so brave of heart 
 
 and hand ; 
 
 132
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 A lonesome time without him, yes, and little Christ- 
 mas joy 
 
 For a mother white and grieving, and hungry for her 
 boy. 
 
 But the country is a mother too, and sent her son 
 away, 
 
 And that's why some of us are sad this merry Christ- 
 mas Day. 
 
 Yet God is here, and God is there, and duty must be 
 done, 
 
 And not a mother of us all would dare withhold her 
 son 
 
 When the wooing bugles called him, and the throbbing 
 drums said "come," 
 
 And he carried o'er the ocean the conscience of his 
 home. 
 
 Shut your eyes, little mother, shut your eyes and sleep. 
 'Tis Christmas Eve, and o'er the fields the snow is 
 
 drifting deep. 
 
 The air is full of music, it is thrilling sweet and far, 
 There's naught to .hinder angels, who fly from star to 
 
 star, 
 From singing o'er that tropic camp as once they sang 
 
 of old, 
 When they leaned so low from heaven, o'er tender 
 
 lambs in fold ; 
 And Willie pacing up and down, upon his sentry's 
 
 beat 
 
 May hear the seraph melodies, so wonderful and fleet ; 
 I'm told those Eastern places have a magic not like 
 
 ours, 
 And spells and dreams that linger there, with curious 
 
 mystic powers ; 
 You may cease from fretting, mother ; the Christmas 
 
 joy will be 
 
 Undimmed and beautiful about our lad beyond the sea. 
 10 133
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Why, mother dear, the fretting, 'tis for them that stay 
 behind 
 
 And hear the music die away to silence on the wind ; 
 
 And it's always glory beckoning the happy ones who go, 
 
 And who'll come back some splendid day triumphant 
 o'er the foe ; 
 
 Then what a Christmas-keeping, from the prairies to 
 the lakes, 
 
 From the pine-lands to the palm-lands, where'er old 
 ocean breaks 
 
 In surf and thunder on our coasts, what Christmas- 
 keeping then, 
 
 When Columbia calls her soldiers back ; great mother 
 of strong men ! 
 
 Now, shut your eyes, sweet mother, just shut your 
 
 eyes and sleep, 
 No doubt the mother of the Christ her thoughtful 
 
 watch would keep 
 When she saw him going from her and she could not 
 
 do a thing 
 Nor take much comfort from that hour when she 
 
 heard the angels sing. 
 Perhaps she never heard them, on that night when he 
 
 was born, 
 And she lay all wan and tired, in the faint and roseate 
 
 morn ; 
 But, born to be a Saviour, that was all the joy she 
 
 knew; 
 And, in a lesser way of course, such joy may come to 
 
 you. 
 For, not for self, and not for pelf, but at the country's 
 
 need, 
 
 Our Willie went, at duty's call, to do, to dare, to heed, 
 And, wherever floats the flag to-day, and far as he may 
 
 roam, 
 He carries with him, mother dear, the conscience of 
 
 his home. 
 
 134
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 When the new year knocks at the door it is 
 well for us to remember some of the old words 
 which have ever been the consolations and 
 delights of the saints : "Lord, thou hast been our 
 dwelling place in all generations." "The Lord 
 shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in." 
 "I, the Lord, have called thee in righteousness, 
 and will hold thine hand, and will keep thee." 
 "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose 
 mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in. 
 thee." 
 
 "Workman of God ! O ! lose not heart, 
 But learn what God is like, 
 
 And in the darkest battle field 
 
 Thou shalt know where to strike." 
 
 The daily routine of the household apparently 
 so tranquil has its pitfalls, its conflicts, and its 
 temptations. To keep one's voice sweet, one's 
 face bright, one's will steady, one's patience 
 unperturbed, in the arena of the home, in the 
 presence of one's own family, is no light task. 
 Home joy is a precious thing and should be 
 guarded. 
 
 "If I had known in the morning 
 
 How wearily all the day 
 The words unkind would trouble my mind. 
 I said, when you went away, 
 335
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 I had been more careful, darling, 
 
 Nor given you needless pain ; 
 But we vex our own with look and tone 
 We might never take back again. 
 
 "For though in the quiet evening 
 
 You should give me the kiss of peace, 
 Yet it well might be that never for me 
 The pain of the heart should cease. 
 How many go forth at morning 
 
 Who never come home at night ; 
 And hearts have broken for harsh words spoken 
 That sorrow can ne'er set right. 
 
 "We have careful thought for the stranger, 
 
 And smiles for the sometime guest ; 
 But yet for our own the bitter tone, 
 
 Though we love our own the best ; 
 Ah, lip with the curve impatient, 
 
 Ah, brow with the look of scorn, 
 'Twere a cruel fate were the night too late 
 To undo the work of morn." 
 
 Away back in A. D. 700 one of God's dear 
 children wrote this little prayer, which is appro- 
 priate for working days and holidays alike : 
 
 "Grant us, Lord, to pass this day in glad- 
 ness and peace, without stumbling and without 
 stain; that, reaching the eventide victorious 
 over all temptation, we may praise thee, the 
 eternal God, who art blessed, and dost govern 
 all things, world without end. Amen." 
 
 The wedding anniversaries are very precious 
 
 in the happy home. I was a privileged guest 
 136
 
 TBUSTFDL TO-MOBBOWS 
 
 recently at the fortieth wedding day of a dear 
 friend to whom God had given nine dear chil- 
 dren and in whose circle there is not yet one 
 vacant chair. Many of the guests at the wed- 
 ding dinner had been present at the bridal, 
 and they exchanged reminiscences and renewed 
 felicitations. The merriment was unclouded, 
 and it was hallowed by the felt and recognized 
 
 presence of the Master at the feast. 
 137
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 THE PLANT HEART'S-EASE 
 
 WHEN one sees the serene faces the Friends 
 carry under their dove colored poke bonnets, 
 and observes how noble and dignified is the 
 writing of time on those gentle brows, one is 
 aware that in their bosoms they have been car- 
 rying the plant heart's-ease. This little herb 
 grows not in the soil of pride and nourishes not 
 amid arrogance and contempt. Bunyan tells 
 us that it is oftenest found in the Valley of 
 Humiliation. "It is fat ground" there, he says, 
 "and, as you see, consisteth much in meadows; 
 and if a man were to come here in the summer 
 time, as we do now, if he knew not anything 
 before thereof, and if he also delighted himself 
 in the sight of his eyes, he might see that that 
 would be delightful to him. Behold, how green 
 this valley is ! also how beautified with lilies ! I 
 have also known many laboring men that have 
 got good estates in this Valley of Humiliation 
 (for God resisteth the proud, but gives more, 
 
 more grace to the humble) ; for indeed it is a 
 138
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 very fruitful soil, and doth bring forth by hand- 
 fuls. Some also have wished" that the next way 
 to their Father's house were here, that they 
 might be troubled no more with either hills or 
 mountains to go over; but the way is the way, 
 and there's an end." 
 
 "Now," goes on the poet dreamer, "as they 
 were going along and talking, they espied a 
 boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy was 
 in very mean clothes, but of a very fresh and 
 well favored countenance ; and as he sat by him- 
 self, he sung." And these were the words : 
 
 "He that is down needs fear no fall, 
 
 He that is low no pride ; 
 He that is humble ever shall 
 
 Have God to be his guide. 
 I am content with what I have, 
 
 Little be it or much ; 
 And, Lord, contentment still I crave, 
 
 Because thou savest such. 
 Fullness to such a burden is 
 
 As go on pilgrimage : 
 Here little, and hereafter bliss, 
 
 Is best from age to age." 
 
 "I will dare to say," said Greatheart, "that 
 this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more of 
 that herb called heart' s-ease in his bosom, than 
 he that is clad in silk and velvet." 
 
 To have the perfume of the plant heart's-ease 
 139
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 about one all the while one must cultivate a 
 spirit of trust. She who doubts God and his 
 continual loving kindness will have no heart's- 
 ease. She who is careful and troubled about 
 health, about money, about the morrow, either 
 for herself or for her loved ones, will never have 
 peace for her comrade. She who is straining 
 to keep up appearances, unwilling to live 
 plainly, to dress plainly, to take an incon- 
 spicuous seat at the banquet, will not get away 
 from care. 
 
 Then, too, she who carries her loads for her- 
 self, or for her home people and her business 
 associates, to the cross, and carries the loads 
 away again, will not know the balm of heart's- 
 ease. Whoever kneels to the Lord in contrite 
 prayer, and accepts the promises literally, will 
 bear ease about with him, wherever he may 
 walk, whatever he may do or bear. 
 
 William Law, mystic and preacher of the gos- 
 pel more than a hundred years ago, living in 
 Putney, England, found out the secret of 
 heart's-ease. "When things seemed to go ill 
 with the cause of truth and righteousness, in 
 controversy or in actual life, Law fell back at 
 
 once on the assurance that God's ways must be a 
 140
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 great deep to the mind of man. And when 
 hurts and wrongs, crosses and vexations, came 
 to himself Law knew himself well enough to see 
 why God sent them or permitted them to come. 
 'You are here/ he said to himself, 'to have no 
 tempers and no self-designs, and no self-ends, 
 but to fill some place and act some part in strict 
 conformity and thankful resignation to the 
 divine pleasure. Begin, therefore, in the small- 
 est matters and most ordinary occasions and 
 accustom your mind to the daily exercise of this 
 pious temper in the lowest occurrences of life. 
 And when a contempt, an affront, a little injury, 
 a loss or a disappointment, or the smallest events 
 in every day continually raise your mind to God 
 in proper acts of resignation, then you may 
 justly hope that you shall be numbered among 
 those who are resigned and thankful to God in 
 the greatest trials and afflictions.' >} 
 Said Geo. Klingle: 
 
 "God broke our years to hours and days that 
 Hour by hour, 
 And day by day, 
 Just going on a little way, 
 We might be able .all along 
 To keep quite strong. 
 141
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Should all the weight of life 
 
 Be laid across our shoulders, and the future, rife 
 With woe and struggle, meet us face to face 
 At just one place, 
 We could not go ; 
 Our feet would stop ; and so 
 God lays a little on us every day, 
 And never, I believe, on all the way 
 Will burdens bear so deep 
 Or pathways lie so steep 
 But we can go if, by God's power, 
 We only bear the burden of the hour." 
 
 How shall we carry heart's-ease to the be- 
 reaved? How except by expressing our sym- 
 pathy ? "I never know just what to say to peo- 
 ple who are in sorrow so I never say anything, if 
 I can help it. And the more I feel the less I 
 can say. I can write a note of condolence quite 
 easily, for the stilted phrases slip easily from 
 the pen, even when I know that they are useless, 
 for they never comfort the least bit. But when 
 I am face to face with bereavement I am dumb, 
 although my heart may ache. Still, it makes 
 little difference; words don't help people in 
 grief. And, if they did, all I could say would 
 be, 'I am sorry.' '' 
 
 As if that were not the best thing to say! 
 That simple phrase carries with it more true 
 
 sympathy than dozens of stilted expressions. 
 142
 
 TEUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 When we were in sorrow and felt as if we were 
 numbed by the awful loneliness of our grief, 
 that seemed ours and ours only, what did it 
 mean to us when our friend came, and putting 
 her arms about us, sobbed, "0, my dear, I am so 
 sorry ! so sorry !" That genuine, unpremedi- 
 tated outburst brought sympathy that softened 
 grief, although nothing could lessen it. It is 
 a mistake to think that so-called letters of con- 
 dolence do no good. Of course they cannot re- 
 lieve sorrow, but to the grief-stricken there is 
 great comfort in knowing that somebody cares ; 
 that the thoughts and prayers of friends are 
 with her who walks in the Valley of the Shadow 
 of Death. And to one in sorrow the world in 
 general seems such a heartless, careless place! 
 
 Let us not feel that, because do/ens of other 
 people have written letters or spoken phrases of 
 pity to the bereaved friend, our little note or 
 word is unnecessary. It may be just the touch 
 of sympathy that will soften the rebellious grief 
 and bring much-needed tears ; it may be just the 
 drop of sweet in the cup of bitterness that, but 
 for that tiny drop, would be intolerable. 
 
 A thoughtful writer has bidden us "cultivate 
 
 the undergrowth of little pleasures." She says : 
 143
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 "There are the things that can be done in odd 
 minutes. They need not necessarily be simply 
 profitable. It is highly edifying to know how 
 some people have improved their minds in frag- 
 ments of time, but to an overworked mortal 
 what a weariness it is ! Momentary snatches of 
 good times are not a purposeless waste. Life's 
 larger deeds and duties are usually hyphenated 
 by some little thing. Let the in-betweens be 
 pleasant, if possible. 
 
 "A busy housewife, on mending day, took a 
 choice book to the sewing-room, and after slip- 
 ping the needle in and out of the yawning hole 
 in a stocking a certain number of times she read 
 a delightful page of the story. Her work was 
 foremost, and was duly finished, while a page at 
 a time was not much of the book, but she made 
 the most of the little undergrowth of pleasure 
 and found it refreshing. 
 
 "If it is possible to manage between times 
 the brief informal visit, or bit of neighborliness, 
 where one cannot take a day for social inter- 
 change nor put one's self in array for a grand 
 function, cultivate the undergrowth of socia- 
 bility. If a favorite accomplishment must be 
 
 relegated to chinks and corners of time, so be it, 
 144
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 but let it fill the chinks. Touch the piano keys 
 in the twilight, or redeem a season somehow for 
 taking up the brush, or the small implements 
 of fancy work, if that is a pleasure. Keep the 
 pen within reach, and let the giving and taking 
 of pleasure in a friendly letter be a common 
 thing, not a formidable task like the writing of 
 a state paper. Your friends can find state 
 papers in the public library. They want to 
 know your common goings and comings, and 
 what you are thinking about, what you are read- 
 ing and what you are making, how your new 
 frock looks, and how the last recipe you tried 
 came out. They want to know of your remem- 
 brance and regard, and the impulsive rhetoric 
 of the heart is better for telling this than any 
 studied eloquence. Those who do not cultivate 
 this undergrowth of little pleasures in friendly 
 letters, after the fashion of Cowper's ideal, who 
 loved talking letters dearly,' do not know what 
 they miss. There is such refreshment in the 
 writing and the receiving that one sometimes 
 feels moved to repeat the assertion that 
 
 'The very dearest and sweetest thing 
 Is the sound in the house of the postman's ring.' 
 145
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 "Under the severely useful and profitable 
 crop of commonplace deeds and duties, as in- 
 distinguishable from each other, perhaps, as 
 crowding cornstalks or swaying wheatblades, 
 there is an undergrowth of innocent satisfac- 
 tion in the ability to do the work, the growing 
 facility in it, and in the mere fact of accom- 
 plishing it. Take the good of this comfortable 
 feeling as you go along. Even under distaste- 
 ful toils pleasant little things grow up, and a 
 little sprig of content, planted, watered, culti- 
 vated sincerely, will blossom into pleasure by 
 and by." 
 
 Rev. Dr. C. H. Parkhurst tells us that 
 "We should show ourselves neither philo- 
 sophic nor Christian by declining to enjoy a 
 landscape that is beauteous in summer on the 
 ground that it is certain to become bleak in win- 
 ter. You can bless God for the flower that 
 blossoms at the roadside in June although you 
 may know that no flower will be there next 
 December. Indeed, by affecting to make light 
 of the uncertain mercies that come to us and 
 stay but a little while, we are certain to put our- 
 selves a little farther beyond the reach of mer- 
 cies that may come to us and stay a great while 
 140
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 and always. One of the saddest things that 
 parents ever say about a child that God has 
 loaned them only a few years and then taken 
 back is that they are afraid that God did it to 
 punish them for having loved the child so pas- 
 sionately ; as though any gift most of all such 
 a gift if only cherished with a heart that is at 
 the same time mindful of the blessed Author 
 of the gift could have any other effect than to 
 make real and dear the unseen world out of 
 which it is come and the unseen hand by" whom 
 it was bestowed." 
 
 After all, he has the most of that sweet plant 
 called heart's-ease who has most of tender com- 
 munion with the Master. To lean on the bosom 
 of Jesus is to know the sweetness of his grace ; 
 to hear him say in the dusk and in the dew, in 
 the starlight and in the sunlight, "I have called 
 you friend." 
 
 Then may we say : 
 
 "I can never doubt his goodness ; 
 
 I must ever trust his love. 
 By a cord that cannot sever 
 
 I am bound to my home above. 
 
 "Henceforward on my journey 
 
 I therefore walk by faith, 
 Till he give me fuller vision 
 
 On the other side of death." 
 147
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE EASTER JOY 
 A GOLDEN WAY 
 
 FROM Christmas unto Easter 
 There leads a golden way ; 
 
 By solemn stars 'tis lighted, 
 By angels watched each day. 
 
 We who have heard the Master 
 Say, "Rise, and follow me," 
 
 Are swift the silver milestones 
 Of that dear way to see. 
 
 We walk again with Jesus 
 
 Through those first hidden years 
 
 Ere yet he knew the anguish 
 Of struggle, toil and tears. 
 
 We tread the steep hill passes, 
 We stand beside the wave, 
 
 And o'er us is the blessing 
 Of him who came to save. 
 
 By beds of pain we meet him ; 
 
 He gives the blind their sight ; 
 In lonely mountain places 
 
 He tarries oft by night. 
 
 And ever where he wanders, 
 
 In shadow or in sun, 
 We catch a gleam of glory 
 
 From God's most holy One. 
 148
 
 "Last at the Cross, and Earliest at the Tomb.'
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 And when they cry "Hosanna," 
 
 Or "Crucify" they cry, 
 Alike he wears the beauty 
 
 Of God's own Son most high. 
 
 For, swift he came from heaven 
 
 With sinful men to dwell, 
 And sweetest name he weareth 
 
 Is aye "Immanuel !" 
 
 No grave could keep him captive, 
 Nor death could hold him fast ; 
 
 All whom he saves shall with him 
 Inherit life at last. 
 
 By solemn stars love-lighted, 
 By angels watched each day, 
 
 From Christmas unto Easter 
 Is just one golden way. 
 
 One day at noon during the latter part of 
 Lent, in a cold winter, I found myself in the 
 neighborhood of a church on Broadway, New 
 York, where through open doors a stream of 
 people was passing in to a little service. The 
 invitation to leave the throng and bustle of the 
 street and spend a quiet half-hour in a worship- 
 ing assembly could not be resisted, and, enter- 
 ing, I found myself one of a large congregation 
 among whom were many men, young and old; 
 women of all ranks, from ladies richly and 
 fashionably attired to women whose clothing 
 
 marked them as tpilers, some of them very poor. 
 11 149
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 It was a pleasant experience to join this sanc- 
 tuary throng, and as I left the church,, com- 
 forted and helped by the song, the prayers, the 
 little sermon and the watchword chosen from 
 the Bible, I felt glad that Christians are more 
 and more inclining their hearts to keep with 
 special attention the services of Lent. 
 
 I could not agree with an editorial which I 
 read shortly after, in one of the daily papers, in 
 which severe reflections were made on the de- 
 clining piety of the Church of to-day. We live 
 in a material age ; an age of fierce business com- 
 petition; a time when men struggle to amass 
 money, when the contrasts between rich and 
 poor are more sharply drawn than of old, when 
 the besetting sin of the day is to bring matters 
 to the test of human reason rather than to go 
 in faith to the mercy seat and accept what God 
 gives us there. But I remember the text of that 
 day: "I am the Lord, the God of all flesh: is 
 there anything too hard for me ?" I see press- 
 ing in with insistent energy upon the Church a 
 great and increasing throng of young men and 
 women, student volunteers, who are ready and 
 willing to give themselves to serve the Lord in 
 
 any land where he mav want them. I am aware 
 ''loO
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 that there is a large and increasing army of 
 men and women who quietly read their Bibles 
 and earnestly pray, and I do not believe that the 
 Church is losing its hold upon the world, nor 
 that Christ is deserting his own people. 
 
 After the forty days of Lent comes the dawn 
 of the Easter morning. Once more with flow- 
 ers and hymns of praise we enter our holy 
 places; once more we hear sounding over every 
 open grave, and hushing every rebellious 
 thought in our hearts and soothing every grief, 
 the words of him who still says to every one of 
 us, "I am the Resurrection and the Life ; he that 
 believeth in me, though he were dead yet shall 
 he live." Because our blessed Captain tasted 
 death for every one of us, and himself took on 
 his pale lips its utmost bitterness, the cup which 
 the death angel holds to our lips is filled with 
 the sweetness and flavor of everlasting life. 
 This is the great joy of Easter. More and 
 more, as we go on traveling the pilgrim road, 
 we are conscious that it is but a road leading to 
 another and an endless home. Along the road 
 there are beautiful surprises. Friendship is 
 ours, and domestic bliss; the dear love of kin- 
 dred; the sweetness of companionship; the de- 
 151
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 light of standing shoulder to shoulder with 
 comrades ; the glory of service. But this is not 
 our rest, and we are going on to that place where 
 the beloved of the Lord shall dwell in safety by 
 him and where they go no more out forever. 
 
 Somehow Easter always carries with it more 
 of heaven than any other of the great anniver- 
 saries of the Christian year. In its first bright 
 dawn the heavens were opened and the angels 
 came down to comfort the weeping women and 
 the disciples, mourning their Lord at the sepul- 
 cher, with those ecstatic words, "He is not here ; 
 he is risen!" It is more than a fancy, it is a 
 precious fact, that the angels still come back to 
 console the mourner, to strengthen the doubt- 
 ing, and to give Christ's own people the blessed 
 assurance that he is with them still. 
 
 The festival of Easter comes to us at a pro- 
 pitious time, for, lo, the winter is past ; the rain 
 is over and gone; the time of the singing of 
 birds is come; and the voice of the turtle is 
 heard in our land. Winter, with its rigor and 
 cold, its ice and frost and inclement blasts, its 
 tempests on land and sea, is an emblem of war- 
 fare; its silence and sternness ally it to grief. 
 
 Spring comes dancing and fluttering in with 
 152
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 flowers and music and the blithe step of child- 
 hood. Her signs are evident before she is really 
 here herself. First come the bluebirds, har- 
 bingers of a host; a little later there will be 
 wrens and robins and orioles, and all the troop 
 which make the woods musical and build so- 
 ciably around our country homes. 
 
 Then the flowers will come. Happy are they 
 who shall watch their whole procession, from 
 the pussy-willow in March to the last blue gen- 
 tian in October. We decorate our churches at 
 Easter with the finest spoils of the hothouse 
 lilies, roses, palms, azaleas; nothing is too 
 costly, nothing too lavish to be brought to the 
 sanctuary or carried to the cemetery. Friend 
 sends to friend the fragrant bouquet or the 
 growing plant with the same tender significance 
 which is evinced in the Christmas gifts, which 
 carry from one heart to another a sweet mes- 
 sage of love. 
 
 But God is giving us the Easter flowers in 
 little hidden nooks in the forests, down by the 
 corners of fences, in the sheltered places on the 
 edges of the brook, and there we find the violet, 
 the arbutus and other delicate blossoms which 
 
 lead the van for the great army of nature's 
 153
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 efflorescence. The first flowers are more del- 
 icately tinted and of shyer look and more 
 ephemeral fragrance than those which come 
 later. They are the Easter flowers. Later on 
 we shall have millions of blossoms and more 
 birds than we can count; now in the garden 
 and the field we have enough to remind us that 
 the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, 
 the time of the singing of birds is come. 
 
 If any of us have been grieving over our own 
 lack, over our sinful departure from God or over 
 the loss of dear ones, let us at Easter forget the 
 past, put our hand in that of our risen Lord, 
 accept the sweetness of his voice and the glad- 
 ness of his presence as he comes into our homes, 
 and say, thankfully, as we hear his "Peace be 
 unto you," "Lord, we are thine at this Easter 
 time; we give ourselves to thee in a fullness 
 which we have never known before. We are 
 thine. Thine to use as thou wilt ; thine to fill 
 with blessing; thine to own. Take us, Lord, 
 and so possess us with thyself that our waste 
 places shall be glad, and the wilderness of our 
 lives shall blossom as the rose." Such a prayer 
 will find its way upward, and return to us in 
 
 wonderful answers of blessing from the Lord. 
 154
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 After the chill of the winter 
 After the frost and rime 
 
 The dance of the leaves, 
 
 The song in the eaves, 
 
 And the waves like bells a-chime. 
 
 After the wide snow fleeces 
 
 The green of the springing grass. 
 
 The buds uncreased 
 
 And the bees' sweet feast, 
 
 And the ripple of winds that pass. 
 155
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 MORNINGS WITH THE BIBLE 
 
 FOR most of us mornings with the Bible are 
 rare. A few verses hastily read, or a chapter 
 or two in the interval before breakfast, take up 
 all the time we can give to the Word before the 
 inflowing tide of the world is upon us. Yet 
 few studies are so remunerative, few occupa- 
 tions are so delightful, and few duties are so 
 imperative as daily attention to the Scriptures, 
 and once convinced of the obligation, and in 
 love with the engagement, most of us will so 
 order our day that some part of it shall method- 
 ically be given to this employment. 
 
 "I want my Bible to be a living book," said a 
 lady one day. "Yes, but it is already living," 
 was her friend's response. "It is you who are 
 not responsive." 
 
 Just as in organ and piano the music lies 
 asleep, waiting the awakening touch of the per- 
 former's hand, so in chapter and text the sweet 
 melodies lie, ready to start into choral and re- 
 frain when you come to them with loving and 
 156
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 listening heart. To the color-blind the delicate 
 shades of beauty in the spring or the autumnal 
 landscape are not discernible; the lilacs and 
 pinks and yellows and greens fail to show their 
 wonderful variety of tint and hue. There are 
 those who are dull of ear and dim of eye, they 
 neither hear nor see, when the Bible is the book 
 which is under their notice. It is to them 
 merely an old volume to which they pay the trib- 
 ute of a traditional reverence, or they regard it 
 as an addition to the furnishing of the house, 
 or else because their mothers loved it they some- 
 times lay upon it a caressing hand. But it is 
 not their Bible, their daily food, their cup of 
 cold water, their staff and stay, their very dear- 
 est dear of books. 
 
 We are bringing up, we in our Christian 
 homes are bringing up, a generation of young 
 people who have no intimate acquaintance with 
 the Bible; who do not feel the obligation of its 
 claim upon their thought and attention. Its 
 precepts are 'not familiar to them by frequent 
 repetition. Our hurried modern life, with its 
 insistent clamor of trains and its schedules of 
 business hours, has pushed the family altar out 
 of many a home, so that children do not, as of
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 old, twice a day read or listen to the reading of 
 the Bible in household worship. The old Bible 
 heroes, Moses, David, Samuel, Nehemiah, the 
 Bible women, Kuth, Hannah, Deborah, Esther, 
 are not any longer household words, and the 
 sequence of the different books has dropped 
 away from children's education. People re- 
 mark glibly that they like the New Testament 
 but do not care for the Old; which is very like 
 saying that they like to live in the house but 
 prefer to leave out the foundation. Of the 
 treasures of history, of poetry, of learning, and 
 of pure literature in our sacred Scriptures many 
 persons are to-day pitifully and shamefully 
 ignorant. 
 
 Now we may amend this by setting aside our 
 daily hour by preference a morning hour for 
 the reading of the Word. We shall love it only 
 as we read it. We may do this by ourselves, or 
 we may seek one or two congenial friends and 
 together we may read and think upon what the 
 Holy Spirit has set down for the instruction 
 of the world through its every age. 
 
 A good plan is to take a single book and read 
 it through at a sitting. Another good plan is to 
 
 select a character and follow him through his 
 158
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 career. If we choose to study the life of our 
 Lord we may begin by looking at him first 
 through the prophecies which foretold his com- 
 ing, and then we may read the four stories of 
 his earthly way as related by four men who lived 
 with him and loved him. Then, following the 
 closing chapters of St. John, we may read the 
 history of the early church as given in the Book 
 of Acts of the Apostles ; then take up the letters 
 sent by these good ministers to the congrega- 
 tions scattered abroad, so getting into our hearts 
 true missionary fervor. Then, studying He- 
 brews, we may compare it with the Pentateuch, 
 and musing and dreaming we may, with the 
 blessed disciple whom Jesus loved, have a 
 Eevelation of the life to come. 
 
 Only, let us read and study the divine Word. 
 
 The "Literary Digest," some months ago, 
 gave an interesting account of an experiment 
 by which Dr. George A. Coe, professor of phi- 
 losophy in Northwestern University, tested the 
 Scriptural knowledge of certain college stu- 
 dents. To a company of one hundred students 
 he gave the following questions, requesting 
 answers in writing : 
 
 1. What is the Pentateuch? 
 159
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 2. What is the higher criticism of the Scrip- 
 tures ? 
 
 3. Does the book of Jude belong to the New- 
 Testament, or to the Old ? 
 
 4. Name one of the patriarchs of the Old 
 Testament. 
 
 5. Name one of the judges of the Old Testa- 
 ment. 
 
 6. Name three of the kings of Israel. 
 
 7. Name three prophets. 
 
 8. Give one of the Beatitudes. 
 
 9. Quote a verse from the Letter to the 
 Romans. 
 
 The answers received were all signed by the 
 writers, and Professor Coe expresses his belief 
 that they were, "without exception, sincere." 
 In marking the answers as correct or incorrect 
 Professor Coe put in the former class all that 
 showed even a distant approach to definite 
 knowledge, whether technical or only popular. 
 He says (in an article in the "Christian Advo- 
 cate") that ninety-six papers were returned, 
 of which eight answered the nine questions cor- 
 rectly ; thirteen papers answered eight questions 
 correctly, eleven answered seven, five answered 
 
 six, nine answered five, twelve answered four, 
 160
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 eleven answered three, thirteen answered two, 
 eleven answered one, and three answered none. 
 The number giving a correct answer to the first 
 question was sixty, to the second, sixteen ; to the 
 third, fifty-six; to the fourth, sixty-one; to the 
 fifth, forty-five ; to the sixth, forty-seven ; to the 
 seventh, fifty-two; to the eighth, seventy-six; 
 to the ninth, thirty-one. 
 
 Ninety-six papers, with nine answers on each, 
 give us a total of eight hundred and sixty-four 
 answers. The total number of correct answers 
 was four hundred and forty-four, a little over 
 one-half. 
 
 Nearly two-thirds of them knew what the 
 Pentateuch is, but only one-sixth of them knew 
 what the "higher criticism" is; and only one- 
 third could quote a single verse from the Epistle 
 to the Eomans. 
 
 Would it not be well for us, in test of our- 
 selves as well as to induce our young friends, to 
 submit in a similar way to some such trial of our 
 
 accurate knowledge of the Bible ? 
 161
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 SWEET HOUR OF PRAYEB 
 
 "0 LORD of life and Lord of love, love us into 
 life and give us life to love thee. Grant us life 
 enough to put life into all things ; that when we 
 travel o'er this part of our life, and it seems 
 but dust and barrenness, we may be of those who 
 hope in thee. Touch this barrenness till all 
 things bloom. Touch those of us whose life is 
 barrener than it need be, lacking knowledge and 
 beauty, filled with petty interests and foolish 
 cares. Lord, forgive us that our life is so poor, 
 and grant us the thoughts of God, that we may 
 be enabled for the time to come to make this 
 very desert blossom as the rose. Grant that 
 in us, short-lived, vexed with cares, hungry, 
 thirsty, dying, the spirit of God may so come 
 that the beauty of the Lord our God may be 
 upon us, and the work of our hands be estab- 
 lished through Jesus Christ our Lord." 
 
 This prayer of George Dawson breathes the 
 desire of every soul that, out of want and weak- 
 ness and penury, turns to the Lord for help and 
 162
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 strength and affluent bounty. How should bur- 
 dens be borne, how should sins be pardoned, how 
 should wisdom be found, if there were no still 
 hour when we might seek the Lord? 
 
 In our extremity is always God's opportunity. 
 Strangely do we limit our Lord's goodness and 
 power when we hesitate to carry everything to 
 him in prayer ; our spiritual needs not only, but 
 our temporal requirements. Our food and rai- 
 ment, the roof over our heads, the shoes for the 
 children's feet, the health we find failing in our 
 loved ones or ourselves, the journey we wish to 
 take, the choice of a school or a college for son 
 or daughter, the business decision we must 
 make, these are legitimate objects of prayer. 
 Our Father knoweth of what we have need be- 
 fore we ask him, yet he says, "Ask, and it shall 
 be given; seek, and ye shall find;" and desires 
 that we inquire of him concerning his will. 
 
 All prayer, to be real, must be genuine; sin- 
 cere; the utterance of the heart. It must be 
 believing prayer. It must be penitent prayer. 
 Also it must be made in the dear name of 
 Christ, and in submission to the will of God. 
 "Not my will, but thine," cries the devout soul. 
 
 Father John, that fine old mystic of the 
 l&S
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Greek church, says, "Only feel truly and sin- 
 cerely your need of that for which you pray, and 
 believe that it comes from God, and you will 
 obtain anything and everything. For with God 
 all things are possible. Whether you are sit- 
 ting down, or walking abroad, or thinking, or 
 writing, or working; whether you are well or 
 ill, at home or out, on land or on sea, be contin- 
 ually assured that God at that moment is wholly 
 with you; that he hears the finest breathings 
 and beatings of your hearts ; and that he listens 
 to hear and help you. Has he not said to you 
 that he waits to be gracious to you? Forget, 
 deny, despair of anything and everything but 
 that. Eemember that for Omnipotence noth- 
 ing is difficult, nor for Love a trouble or a task. 
 All things, therefore, whatsoever you shall ask 
 in prayer, believing, you shall surely receive." 
 Prayer is not always selfish asking. Some, 
 and a large part of it, is intercession for others ; 
 and whoso intercedes for the soul of his friend 
 follows closely the example and obeys the com- 
 mand of the Master. Some of it is adoration. 
 Some of it is praise. Some of it is just a sim- 
 ple, silent, sweet drawing nigh unto God. Of 
 
 one thing may we be assured : that only as we 
 164
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 do often, and closely, and earnestly, give our- 
 selves into God's care, committing our way unto 
 him, asking his direction, floating out upon the 
 infinite sea of his grace, shall we grow in the 
 Christian life. To pray is to think of Jesus; 
 to think of Jesus is to become acquainted with 
 God. 
 
 There is a little picture poem by Francis 
 Fisher Browne which often returns to me when 
 I remember those who have parted with their 
 childhood's simple faith, those who no longer 
 kneel down at morning or at night to say their 
 prayers : 
 
 Upon the white sea sand 
 
 There sat a pilgrim band 
 Telling the losses that their lives had known, 
 
 While evening waned away 
 
 From breezy cliff and bay, 
 And the strong tide went out with weary moan. 
 
 One spake, with quivering lip, 
 
 Of a fair freighted ship 
 With all his household to the deep gone down ; 
 
 But one had wilder woe 
 
 For a fair face long ago 
 Lost in the darker depths of a great town. 
 
 There were who mourned their youth 
 
 With a most loving ruth 
 For its brave hopes and memories ever green ; 
 
 And one upon the West 
 
 Turned an eye that would not rest 
 For far-off hills whereon its joy had been. 
 12 165
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Some talked of vanished gold, 
 
 Some of proud honors told, 
 Some spake of friends that were their trust no more ; 
 
 And one of a green grave 
 
 Beside a foreign wave, 
 That made him sit so lonely on the shore. 
 
 But when their tales were done 
 
 There spake among them one, 
 A stranger, seeming from all sorrow free 
 
 "Sad losses have ye met 
 
 But mine is heavier yet, 
 For a believing heart hath gone from me." 
 
 "Alas !" these pilgrims said, 
 
 "For the living and the dead, 
 For fortune's cruelty, for love's sure cross, 
 
 For the wrecks of land and sea ! 
 
 But, however it came to thee, 
 Thine, stranger, is life's last and heaviest loss." 
 
 Whatever else the world may give it can give 
 us no better thing than the hour of prayer. 
 Whatever it may take, it cannot rob us of peace 
 
 if that dear hour is still our refuge. 
 166
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 PERHAPS the keenest pang a woman ever feels 
 is in the day she realizes that her youth has 
 gone. She seldom reaches this knowledge with- 
 out some external sign or token. It is in the 
 frankness of a friend who, meeting her, after 
 the lapse of years, observes her altered looks, 
 and comments on them, "You have changed. 
 I would never have known you F* It is in the 
 over-officious courtesy of the fellow passenger 
 on a railway train or cable car, who, yielding 
 her a seat, kindly explains that he cannot suffer 
 an old lady to stand. It is in the reflection of 
 her mirror, which shows her gray hair and a 
 hollowing cheek, or in the merciless fidelity of 
 the camera, which reveals differences she had 
 not remarked. Yet, once confessed, once ad- 
 mitted on friendly terms, age has its advan- 
 tages. The elderly woman may go unchallenged 
 wherever she will. She may form her friend- 
 ships on an equal plane with people older and 
 
 younger than herself. Boys and girls come to 
 167
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 her for counsel. The love affairs of the family 
 are related to her, and as under her silver hair 
 she has a warm heart, often absurdly young 
 though nobody suspects it, she is a wise and 
 a safe confidante. 
 
 Often for many years the middle aged and 
 elderly woman enjoys firm health and is the 
 possessor of vigor to which her youth was a 
 stranger. She shrinks from no undertaking, 
 she is afraid of no task; she goes gaily across 
 the continent or around the globe. You find 
 her peering into Dakota dug-outs and Indian 
 tepees ; she is admitted into Hindu zenanas and 
 Japanese homes. She understands life, and 
 reads other women by her own wide experience. 
 
 If she is married, and her husband, growing 
 old with her, has kept pace with her in mind 
 and thought though it sometimes happens 
 that a woman, having more leisure, outgrows 
 her hard-working husband then the two in the 
 serenity of their life's evening are as happy as 
 two children. They have lived and loved to- 
 gether. They may sit often and long in silence, 
 having no need of speech: there is an inti- 
 macy which depends not on language for 
 
 interpretation. 
 
 168
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 Growing old is less a terror than it used to be, 
 for less than formerly are old people laid upon 
 the shelf. The well-meant but mistaken kind- 
 ness of their juniors is apt to deprive aged mem- 
 bers of a household of the work they like to do, 
 and they gradually feel that they are first unim- 
 portant and next encumbrances. No greater 
 blunder is ever made than that which thus 
 grieves persons who, after lives of much activity, 
 feel themselves crowded out and pushed aside 
 by the newer generation. 
 
 Augustus Hare has an inimitable sketch of a 
 clever old lady, one Mrs. Duncan Stewart, who 
 until long past eighty held a sort of social court. 
 Of her pains and aches this sturdy gentlewoman 
 refused to speak. "Take care," she would say 
 to a contemporary who had a tendency thus to 
 complain, "or you will become that most dread- 
 ful of all things, a self-observant valetudina- 
 rian/' It would be well for everyone to make 
 this admirable rule his or her own. We gain 
 nothing by discussing our maladies, and we 
 often bring upon ourselves the very physical 
 pangs we dread by fixing them on our mental 
 retina. 
 
 Of two things those who are growing old 
 169
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 should be extremely careful. One is to neglect 
 no little point of decorum. Manners are as 
 beautiful in age as in youth, and no burden of 
 years can really excuse brusqueness, or harsh- 
 ness, or inattention to courtesy. A lady told 
 me of a visit she paid to a great-uncle one hun- 
 dred and one years of age. When she was tak- 
 ing her leave her aged relative said, "My dear 
 niece, I beg that you will pardon me, in that the 
 infirmities of my age prevent my accompanying 
 you to the door." Was not that beautiful ? To 
 a gentleman of ninety a young woman carried 
 an offering of lovely flowers. "How kind and 
 sweet," he said, "is" this thoughtfulness of yours. 
 You, so young, bring roses to me, so old !" 
 
 Then, let the old lady and the old gentleman 
 dress as neatly and with as much elegance as 
 possible. Careful dress, clothing as rich as the 
 purse can afford, is more necessary to age than 
 to youth. When I was a girl I had a bonnet 
 trimmed with pink roses. Said a dear old gen- 
 tlewoman, "You do not need those trimmings, 
 dear; the roses are in your cheeks. Wait till 
 you are older, to put on the gayer dress." 
 
 The old should associate with the young, and 
 
 should have tolerance for the views of the latter 
 170
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 while trenchantly holding fast to their own 
 prerogatives. I know an octogenarian who still 
 practices successfully his learned profession, 
 keeping abreast with younger men and going 
 to Europe, summer after summer, alone, for 
 purposes of recreation and study. Another, 
 not so far from ninety, comes from a country 
 home three times a week to read in a great 
 library, traveling eighty miles a day for the pur- 
 pose. These men have known how to grow old 
 gracefully. They are of those who prove to us, 
 with Browning, that "the best is yet to.be." 
 
 Old people are precious links with yesterday. 
 When I talk with one whose memory goes back 
 to days when New York society found its center 
 on the Battery, and Chicago was a mere wilder- 
 ness with Indians pitching wigwams beside its 
 lake, the past grows very vivid. 
 
 On the path the old are treading we shall soon 
 follow them. Of one thing we may be sure, 
 Time is the great conqueror, and imperceptibly 
 his gentle hand is snatching away the youth 
 
 from us all. 
 
 171
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 HOME AWAITING 
 
 IT is the dearest word in our language, that 
 sweet word Home. Born of our deepest need, 
 answering to a responsive chord in our nature, 
 whatever the accident of our environment or the 
 peculiarity of our training there is a homing 
 instinct which sends us back from the farthest 
 wandering on the face of the earth to the old 
 fireside and the mother's chair. When annu- 
 ally we of this land keep our Thanksgiving 
 feast, every train across the continent, every 
 ship that sails the sea, bears freight of loving 
 hearts, carries home again the men and women 
 who, from business, study and pleasure, turn 
 yearningly and wistfully to the place where they 
 played in childhood. 
 
 All through our changeful days we are bound 
 by strong and slender though often invisible 
 threads to the home of our bringing up, to the 
 earliest associations. Yet death is all the while 
 slowly or swiftly obliterating earthly scenes, and 
 
 men come and go, and families pass away, and 
 172
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-JIOBROWS 
 
 it is ever true, here in this world, of everything 
 we see and hear, that the wind passeth over it 
 and it is gone, and that the place which knows 
 us to-day may soon know us no more. Eealizing 
 this more and more as our experiences multiply 
 and a deeper note comes into our lives, we look 
 forward to the home which shall abide, to the 
 immortal land "conjubilant with song." 
 
 "Jerusalem the golden, 
 
 With milk and honey blest, 
 Beneath thy contemplation 
 
 Sink heart and voice opprest. 
 I know not, O, I know not, 
 
 What social joys are there, 
 What radiancy of glory, 
 
 What bliss beyond compare. 
 
 "There is the throne of David, 
 And there, from care released, 
 
 The song of them that triumph, 
 The shout of them that feast." 
 
 Our dear Lord, leaving his disciples lonely 
 and bewildered, not knowing what they should 
 do without his presence and the comfort of his 
 gentle strength, said, "In my Father's house are 
 many mansions. I go to prepare a place for 
 you." There and then he named the home 
 awaiting us after the trials and storms of this 
 
 world; it is the Father's house, and where else 
 173
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 should the children gather and where else 
 should there be provision so abundant for their 
 every want ! 
 
 In the Father's house all the lost children 
 shall find one another ; all the brothers and sis- 
 ters will sit down together in the gladness of re- 
 union after separation. Never let anyone for 
 an instant imagine that our home is to be a mere 
 state of blessedness, a sort of Nirvana, a beatific 
 sphere of isolation ; it is to be the rallying place 
 of the kindred, the joyous hearth round which 
 we shall meet when task and toil are over, and 
 unfettered, without handicap or limitation, we 
 shall go on, learning, loving, living, forever. 
 
 Here, a thousand obstacles interfere with us 
 and a thousand hindrances interpose to prevent 
 our development. We have feet, not wings. 
 Inherited tendencies clog our noblest efforts, 
 our aspirations are weighted by the grossness of 
 appetite, our good is marred by evil. Sin 
 creeps into our most beautiful Edens. Home 
 life is shadowed by frowning faces, by uncon- 
 genial dispositions, by tempers which flare up 
 into sudden flame, or smoke and smolder in 
 gloomy wrath. 
 
 One is never sure, when a day begins, what 
 174
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 may lie in its pathway before nightfall. One 
 is never able to say precisely how he shall meet 
 temptation, nor to count on his reinforcements. 
 Needs must we sometimes strive with Apollyon 
 and find him bearing us down with bitter onset 
 and terrific blows. There, the core of all the 
 sweetness will be entire freedom from sin, entire 
 absence of. the evil overmastering desire, entire 
 conformity to the divine will, and joy in obey- 
 ing the divine commands. 
 
 It is certain that in the home awaiting us we 
 shall have service of the highest. In what way 
 we shall serve, on what errands be sent, we do 
 not know, but we shall know hereafter. With 
 the glad alacrity of children we shall carry mes- 
 sages and study new lessons and do as the 
 Father bids us, once we are safe within the gates 
 of the Father's house. 
 
 Sometimes we wonder, foolishly, whether we 
 shall know our loved ones when we meet them 
 again. As if the life likeness would be gone 
 simply because the dear ones had been dwelling 
 a little longer than ourselves in the Father's 
 presence ! As if love were a thing of the hour ! 
 As if death were more than transition, the angel 
 
 of emancipation, the opener of the door into 
 175
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 the lighted room after the long journey ! As if 
 it were God's way to give us a half blessing! 
 The joy of the home awaiting us will be the joy 
 of meeting once more and keeping through 
 eternity the little ones who went on before us, 
 the comrades and friends who dropped away 
 from our side, the fathers and mothers who 
 showed us first the pathway to our God. Faith 
 claims this dear privilege of anticipation. 
 There, in the Father's house, we shall meet, we 
 shall love, we shall serve, we shall know and be 
 
 known. 
 
 "For death is but a covered way 
 
 That opens into light, 
 Wherein no blinded child can stray 
 
 Beyond the Father's sight." 
 
 Best of all, in the home awaiting us we shall 
 see our Master face to face. How wonderful 
 will be that glad recognition. Not as they saw 
 him who walked with him in Galilee, when 
 he bore the burden of our flesh and was ac- 
 quainted with grief ; not as the disciples and the 
 women who came to him for healing and help 
 saw him, with glory veiled and hidden; but 
 rather as those privileged ones beheld him to 
 whom he came after his resurrection, entering 
 
 into their company and saying "Peace !" when 
 176
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 the doors were shut, and their wistful eyes could 
 scarce believe in the divine beauty of that 
 strange revelation. We shall see Jesus en- 
 throned and glorified. We shall hear his voice. 
 There will be no dimming cloud of sin to keep 
 us away, but even as he draws us to him we shall 
 hasten, happy to be in that close circle of those 
 who are evermore his own. 
 
 Says Jeremy Taylor: 
 
 "If thou wilt be fearless of death endeavor to 
 be in love with the felicities of saints and angels 
 and be once persuaded to believe that there is a 
 condition of living better than this ; that there 
 are creatures more noble than we; that above 
 there is a country better than ours ; that the 
 inhabitants know more and know better, and are 
 in places of rest and desire; and first learn to 
 value it, and then learn to purchase it, and 
 death cannot be a formidable thing which lets 
 us into so much joy and so much felicity. 
 
 "And indeed who would not think his own 
 condition mended if he passed from conversing 
 with dull mortals, with ignorant and foolish 
 persons, with tyrants, and enemies of learning, 
 to converse with Homer and Plato, with 
 
 Socrates and Cicero, with Plutarch and Fabri- 
 177
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 cius ? So the heathens speculated, but we con- 
 sider higher. 'The dead that die in the Lord' 
 shall converse with St. Paul, and all the college 
 of the Apostles, and all the saints and martyrs, 
 with all the good men whose memory we pre- 
 serve in honor, with excellent kings and holy 
 bishops, and with the great Shepherd and 
 Bishop of our souls, Jesus Christ, and with God 
 himself. For 'Christ died for us, that, whether 
 we wake or sleep, we might live together with 
 him.' Then we shall be free from lust and 
 envy, from fear and rage, from covetousness 
 and sorrow, from tears and cowardice: and 
 these indeed properly are the only evils that are 
 contrary to felicity and wisdom." 
 
 I think we limit our conception of heaven too 
 strictly to the devotional side of our nature, as 
 if we were to spend eternity simply and exclu- 
 sively in acts of worship. That praise will be 
 the atmosphere of our being, that our souls will 
 be bathed in thankfulness, who can doubt? 
 But, if we are to go onward in the future as in 
 the present life, we shall share social converse 
 and peer into the secret things of God. Science, 
 in its infancy here, will be studied there in beau- 
 tiful unfoldings, with powers freed from the 
 178
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 cobwebs of earth. We shall go on learning 
 with open eye and quickened ear. Think of 
 learning without fatigue, of dwelling where all 
 around assists the mind, of going at an instant's 
 notice to the farthest star ! There is no reason 
 to fear that we shall be hindered in heaven from 
 pursuing any employment which may be carried 
 on in the pure sight of God. 
 
 We are flitting, as the call reaches us, from 
 these houses of clay to our everlasting habi- 
 tations. 
 
 "Not rising up together 
 
 In whirlwind or in cloud, 
 In the hush of the summer weather 
 
 Or when storms are gathering loud, 
 But one by one we go 
 To the sweetness none may know." 
 
 A messenger straight from the City of God 
 crosses our threshold, and one dear to us is not, 
 for God has taken him. The messenger comes 
 to us one by one, and we know not when ; but let 
 it be at cockcrow, or at noon, or at midnight, it 
 is the summons home, and the Lord himself will 
 lead us to the place prepared. An end then of 
 every anxiety, a realization then of all for which 
 we have hoped and waited and prayed. We shall 
 
 be with God in heaven forever. 
 179
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 "We are on our journey home 
 Where Christ our Lord has gone, 
 
 We shall meet around his throne 
 When he makes his people one 
 
 In the new Jerusalem. 
 
 "O glory shining far 
 
 From the never setting sun, 
 O trembling Morning Star, 
 
 Our journey's almost done 
 To the new Jerusalem." 
 180
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI 
 A STUDY OP ANGELS 
 
 THE Bible is a supernatural book, and its 
 pages are bright with supernatural radiance. 
 All through its course, from Genesis to Kevela- 
 tion, we hear the rustling of angel wings, and 
 behold the shimmering of angel robes, and hear 
 the sweet cadences of seraph voices. In these 
 duller days we are often insensible to the vision 
 and the song, and we do not readily accept the 
 sweet comfort the Lord is ever willing to send 
 us, but why should we refuse to believe the old 
 never repealed word which says that he giveth 
 his angels charge concerning us, that in their 
 hands they bear us up, and that they so guard 
 us that we do not hurt our feet upon the way, 
 nor stumble, nor fall ? Are they not all minis- 
 tering spirits, still sent forth to minister to 
 them who shall be heirs of salvation ? 
 
 The first recorded mention of an angelic er- 
 rand to our race was not, however, one of com- 
 fort or help, but of restraint, and of the barred 
 13 181
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 door of a lost Eden. "And the Lord God said, 
 Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know 
 good and evil; and now, lest he put forth his 
 hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, 
 and live forever: therefore the Lord God sent 
 him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the 
 ground from whence he was taken. So he drove 
 out the man; and he placed at the east of the 
 garden of Eden the Cherubim, and the flame of 
 a sword which turned every way, to keep the way 
 of the tree of life." 
 
 Terrible in their glory, these mighty creatures 
 of Jehovah, created perhaps for the purpose 
 which they then fulfilled, stood still at Eden's 
 morning gate, with the glory of the dawn light 
 on their faces. And man, fleeing from their 
 blinding radiance and dumb before the majesty 
 of that circling sword of fire, might still look 
 up to heaven, from angel and from brand, and 
 discern, faint indeed, and dim in the distance, 
 but strange and clear and steadfast, the promise 
 of the coming Saviour, whose star should yet 
 shine in the East. 
 
 When Moses, listening to the voice of the 
 Lord, told the children of Israel to make unto 
 
 the Lord an offering of their best and choicest 
 182
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 possessions and to prepare for him a tabernacle 
 and a sanctuary, we again find the cherubim, 
 symbolizing now the covenant love of God to 
 man. This time the cherubim are to be made of 
 fine beaten gold, and the Lord himself gives the 
 pattern to Moses. "Of one piece with the mercy- 
 seat shall ye make the cherubim on the two ends 
 thereof. And the cherubim shall spread out 
 their wings on high, covering the mercy-seat 
 with their wings, with their faces one to an- 
 other; toward the mercy-seat shall the faces of 
 the cherubim be." Through the long ages be- 
 fore Immanuel came, priest and prophet and 
 the devout and expectant among God's people, 
 praying for the Messiah, knew that the glory of 
 the overshadowing cherubim was as the glory of 
 the New Jerusalem in the Holy of Holies. There 
 it abode until that dark day on Golgotha when 
 by wicked hands the Messiah, whom his own did 
 not recognize, was crucified and slain, and then, 
 when the veil of the temple was rent, and the 
 saints lying in their graves arose and appeared 
 unto many, for ever and for ever the glory faded 
 from the place where the cherubim had kept 
 their century upon century's tryst. 
 
 It was while sitting under the oaks of Mamre, 
 183
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 in his tent door, in the heat of the day, that 
 Abraham the aged suddenly had a vision of 
 angels. Perhaps he had been musing of the 
 wonderful way over which the Lord had led him 
 from the days of his youth, when the mystic call 
 had drawn him away from his kindred and his 
 father's house to seek an unknown land. The 
 Lord had promised Abraham many things; as 
 yet the fulfillment of a part of the promise was 
 delayed. His beautiful wife, Sarah, no longer 
 hoped to be the mother of his son ; she had fore- 
 gone that proud desire, and, jealous as she was 
 of Hagar, the disdainful Egyptian, she had 
 acknowledged Hagar's child as the heir of her 
 husband's line. The transaction with Hagar, 
 read by modern Occidental eyes, is incompre- 
 hensible, but it was and is in keeping with or- 
 dinary Oriental usage, and no doubt even Sarah 
 took a certain pleasure in the beauty and vigor 
 of the Egyptian's boy. 
 
 God had distinctly told Abraham that Sarah 
 his wife, a fair woman still, but ninety years 
 old, should bear him a son. And Abraham be- 
 lieved God. Yet it may well have been that 
 under his faith there was the moaning cry at 
 
 times of impatience with the long waiting ; and 
 184
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 again, that there may have been the human pro- 
 test at what seemed an impossibility ; as though 
 anything could ever be impossible to God ! As 
 Abraham sat there, quietly thinking, he lifted 
 up his eyes, and lo ! three men stood over against 
 him. They had not approached. The long 
 white stretch of sand had no footprints upon 
 it, and no caravan had brought these messen- 
 gers, on whose garments there was no dust of 
 travel, in whose benignant faces was no shadow 
 of fatigue. There were three men, but one was 
 evidently the chief and the others his attend- 
 ants ; and it may well have been that this kingly 
 one was our Lord Christ, appearing thus as 
 again and again he appeared to his servants 
 before he took upon him our flesh and lived 
 among us for three and thirty years. 
 
 "My lord," said the patriarch, bowing low 
 with Oriental courtesy, "if now I have found 
 favor in thy sight, pass not away, I pray thee, 
 from thy servant: let now a little water be 
 fetched, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves 
 under the tree: and I will fetch a morsel of 
 bread, and comfort ye your heart ; after that ye 
 shall pass on : forasmuch as ye are come to your 
 
 servant." Then followed the remarkable inter- 
 185
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 view in which Isaac was again promised, and the 
 still more amazing conversation in which Abra- 
 ham pleaded for Sodom, over which impended 
 the wrath of Jehovah. In all history there is 
 nothing more extraordinary than the story of 
 Abraham's long and intimate talk with the Lord, 
 its pleading tenderness and compassion on the 
 part of the man and its gracious relenting on 
 the part of God. Intercessory prayer has here 
 its pattern and its encouragement. 
 
 The Lord, if indeed one angel was the Lord, 
 returned to heaven, and only the two serving 
 angels went to Sodom and met Lot sitting in 
 the gate of that wicked and doomed city. For 
 consolation and for joy the theophany might be 
 given, for warning and for destruction it was 
 enough to send forth the angels of war and of 
 death. 
 
 Years afterward, when Isaac was a fair boy, 
 a lad on whom his father's passionate love was 
 set, that father felt that the divine command 
 required him to offer up Isaac as a sacrifice. But 
 just as the knife was raised to slay the child 
 God interfered, and from the rifted skies the 
 Angel of the Lord spoke and stayed the father's 
 
 hand. And to Hagar in the desert, fainting, 
 186
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 wearied, utterly dismayed and heart-stricken, an 
 angel came saying, "What aileth thee, Hagar?" 
 And God opened her tear-blinded eyes, and she 
 saw the water of salvation, the well with its 
 fragrant waves, and she filled her bottle with 
 water, and gave the lad drink. 
 
 More beautiful than almost any other story 
 in the Book is that of the sleeping Jacob on his 
 way to Padan-aram, home and mother and 
 father behind him, with all that home meant 
 to the quiet peace-loving nature; an estranged 
 twin-brother, deceived and wronged, also behind 
 him; but in his heart, with all its sinfulness, a 
 true appreciation of and a real longing for the 
 Divine. How lovely is the narrative so simply 
 and quaintly told in the words of Scripture : 
 
 "And Jacob went out from Beer-sheba, and 
 went toward Haran. And he lighted upon a 
 certain place, and tarried there all night, be- 
 cause the sun was set ; and he took of the stones 
 of that place, and put them for his pillows, and 
 lay down in that place to sleep. And he dreamed, 
 and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the 
 top of it reached to heaven: and behold the 
 angels of God ascending and descending on it. 
 
 And, behold, the Lord stood above it, and said, 
 187-
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and 
 the God of Isaac: the land whereon thou liest, 
 to thee will I give it, and to thy seed; and thy 
 seed shall be as the dust of the earth ; and thou 
 shalt spread abroad to the west, and to the east, 
 and to the north, and to the south : and in thee 
 and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth 
 be blessed. And, behold, I am with thee, and 
 .will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, 
 and will bring thee again into this land; for I 
 will not leave thee, until I have done that which 
 I have spoken to thee of. And Jacob awaked 
 out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord is 
 in this place ; and I knew it not. And he was 
 afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! 
 this is none other but the house of God, and this 
 is the gate of heaven. And Jacob rose up early 
 in the morning, and took the stone that he had 
 put for his pillows, and set it up for a pillar, 
 and poured oil upon the top of it. And he called 
 the name of that place Beth-el : but the name of 
 that city was called Luz at the first. And Jacob 
 vowed a vow, saying, If God will be with me, 
 and will keep me in this way that I go, and will 
 give me bread to eat, and raiment to put on, so 
 
 that I come again to my father's house in peace; 
 188
 
 TBUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 then shall the Lord be my God : and this stone, 
 which I have set for a pillar, shall he God's 
 house : and of all that thou shalt give me I will 
 surely give the tenth unto thee." 
 
 Observe how the ladder, invisible to us, 
 reaches from earth to heaven. Is it not thus 
 reaching still? And to and fro the angels go, 
 upon its shining rounds, doing the will of God. 
 With what grace of thankfulness the young man 
 pledges his gift of acknowledgment, that tribute 
 of the tenth which is surely little enough for 
 any of us to give to the Lord whose watchful 
 care of us, too, never ceases. 
 
 Faber's familiar hymn, sung in our churches 
 and at family worship, never loses its charm : 
 
 "Hark ! Hark ! my soul, angelic songs are swelling 
 
 O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore : 
 How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling 
 Of that new life when sin shall be no more ! 
 Angels of Jesus, angels of light, 
 Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night. 
 
 "Darker than night life's shadows fall around us, 
 And like benighted men we miss our mark ; 
 
 God hides himself, and grace hath scarcely found us 
 Ere death finds out his victims in the dark. 
 
 "Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, 
 'Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids you come !' 
 
 And through the dark, its echoes sweetly ringing, 
 The music of the gospel leads us home. 
 
 ISO
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 "Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, 
 The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea, 
 
 And laden souls by thousands, meekly stealing, 
 Kind Shepherd ! turn their weary steps to thee. 
 
 "Rest comes at length, though life be long and dreary ; 
 
 The day must dawn and darksome night be past ; 
 All journeys end in welcome to the weary, 
 
 And heaven, the heart's true home, will come at last. 
 
 "Cheer up, my soul ! faith's moonbeams softly glisten 
 Upon the breast of life's most troubled sea ; 
 
 And it will cheer thy drooping heart to listen 
 
 To those brave songs which angels mean for thee. 
 
 "Angels, sing on ! your faithful watches keeping ; 
 
 Sing us sweet fragments of the songs above ; 
 While we toil on, and soothe ourselves with weeping, 
 Till life's long night shall break in endless love. 
 Angels of Jesus, angels of light, 
 Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night!" 
 
 Many long days and nights pass over Jacob's 
 head; he toils and waits and loves in the house 
 of his stern kinsman Laban, the Syrian. The 
 sweetest idyl of love and patience in the world 
 is that old story of Jacob's passion for Kachel. 
 "And Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and 
 they seemed to him but a few days for the love 
 he had to her." Yet seven more were appointed 
 unto him, fourteen in all, before the dearly be- 
 loved became his bride. 
 
 We do not know how often the angels 
 
 strengthened Jacob during those years of exile 
 190
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 and persistent labor, but they came, if inference 
 may count, many a time and oft ; sometimes in 
 companies, sometimes singly. Once, indeed, to 
 this child of God there was given an experience 
 of depth and agony in prayer such as few of our 
 race have ever known. 
 
 "And Jacob was left alone ; and there wrestled 
 a man with him until the breaking of the day. 
 And when he saw that he prevailed not against 
 him, he touched the hollow of his thigh ; and the 
 hollow of Jacob's thigh was strained, as he 
 wrestled with him. And he said, Let me go, for 
 the day breaketh. And he said, I will not let 
 thee go, except thou bless me. And he said unto 
 him, What is thy name? And he said, Jacob. 
 And he said, Thy name shall be called no more 
 Jacob, but Israel: for thou hast striven with 
 God and with men, and hast prevailed. And 
 Jacob asked him, and said, Tell me, I pray thee, 
 thy name. And he said, Wherefore is it that 
 thou dost ask after my name ? And he blessed 
 him there. And Jacob called the name of the 
 place Peniel : for, said he, I have seen God face 
 to face, and my life is preserved. And the sun 
 rose upon him as he passed over Penuel, and he 
 
 halted upon his thigh. Therefore the children 
 191
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 of Israel eat not the sinew of the hip which is 
 upon the hollow of the thigh, unto this day: 
 because he touched the hollow of Jacob's thigh 
 in the sinew of the hip." 
 
 We remember the circumstances which con- 
 fronted Jacob: the menace of his offended 
 brother on the advance to meet him with his 
 band of followers, armed to the teeth, ready to 
 pounce upon and destroy the caravan and to 
 avenge the injury of the long ago, when Jacob 
 by deceit carried off the blessing and the birth- 
 right. Says the Eev. Dr. Wm. M. Baker, writ- 
 ing of this night of agonizing prayer : 
 
 "How very much more do we know of this 
 Visitor than did Jacob ! Whatever those learned 
 who had him as companion during the seven 
 theophanies which came after this is ours also. 
 All that men came to know of Christ during his 
 life and death, ages after, on earth, is our own. 
 Imagine our importunity to have increased up 
 to the measure of our information ! Though 
 our Esau is Satan, and with all hell at his heels, 
 what need we fear, having such an interlocked 
 grasp upon our Lord ! 
 
 "We read of how a king or emperor knights 
 
 upon some well- fought field some valiant sol- 
 192
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 dier, the nobility of whose new title is borne by 
 his rejoicing children to the end of time. So 
 is it here ; the distinctive name of the people of 
 God, till at last prayer shall perish, is 'the 
 Israel of God.' 'An Israelite indeed,' said Jesus 
 of Nathanael, since beneath the fig-tree he had 
 himself been wrestled with by the man in 
 prayer : Nathanael, like Jacob, being permitted 
 so soon afterward to see the face of this divine 
 Foe Jesus, the Christ. 
 
 "And Jacob is blessed of the Son of God. 
 But, now as ever, not one syllable does Christ 
 say as to how, and when, and where, the sup- 
 pliant in this case Jacob shall be rescued 
 from his Esau. The patriarch knows, as he ad- 
 vances next day alone and at the forefront of 
 his household, nothing but that God is with 
 him ; and to him he leaves it all. None the less 
 he still uses all possible means, bowing himself 
 seven times before the savage sheik who, with 
 his four hundred spears at his back, bears down 
 upon him. Here is no interposition of God! 
 Esau rides down upon his traitorous brother 
 with leveled spear; his vengeance whetted by 
 the sight of his enemy, his lust for plunder by 
 
 the swarming herds and slaves in full view. 
 193
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 There is no faltering in a purpose which during 
 near half a hundred years has hardened into 
 steel. With eye and weapon unswerving Esau 
 rushes down upon Jacob. A moment more and 
 the unarmed man will lie weltering in his blood 
 his wives and sons, his flocks and herds, given 
 over to slaughter, outrage, and spoil. 
 
 "In that instant Esau is struck through the 
 heart ! But it is by an arrow peculiar to the 
 quiver and bow of him of whom it is written: 
 'Thine arrows are sharp in the hearts of the 
 king's enemies, whereby the people are subdued 
 under thee !' For it is an arrow of conquering 
 love ! Saul, the persecutor, fell transfixed by it 
 when in full career, and so is it now. 'And Esau 
 ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on 
 his neck and kissed him ; and they wept.' ' ; 
 
 Friends, there come to us, in our lives, peri- 
 ods as pregnant with calamity as this period 
 which came to Jacob. Again and again we are 
 perplexed, harassed, troubled, distressed, but 
 ah ! never, never, forsaken if we believe in God, 
 if we dare to take him at his word, if we carry 
 every trial and trouble and disaster and threat 
 of evil straight to his feet. When we are 
 
 tempted he can enable us to conquer, when we 
 194
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 are overcome he can help us to arise. Again let 
 us quote from Dr. Baker, whose thought of the 
 personal Christ was so vivid and his realization 
 of Christ's immanence so precious that, with the 
 saints of old, he seems to have had the open 
 vision : 
 
 " 'The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, 
 and the violent take it hy force/ Jacob saw a 
 ladder, reaching from where he lay to heaven, 
 up and down which trooped the angels: he is 
 afterward to learn that this is as a scaling ladder 
 planted upon the soil, its top against the ram- 
 parts of heaven, and by which he and we must 
 storm heaven itself or do without. If you who 
 read have never known of the almost infinite 
 stringency of the world upon you, and at every 
 step; if you have not gone to God and prayed 
 and prayed, and prayed only apparently to be 
 repulsed yes, and seemingly cruelly repulsed, 
 and often you have no business with this page. 
 It is to such as have known, long known, the 
 agony of prayer long despised, rejected, refused, 
 these lines are addressed. For it is not 'the 
 kingdom,' it is the King of heaven who 'suffer- 
 eth violence,' who must be taken by force. Our 
 
 want is but the temporary inducement to that 
 195
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 which is the supreme thing : and that is, our so 
 wrestling in prevailing prayer with the Son of 
 God as to expand and develop our whole 
 nature into likeness to his. Thus are we 'made 
 partakers of the divine nature ;' thus are we, in, 
 the end, Tilled with all the fullness of God.' " 
 
 In the New Testament we find the angels in 
 constant ministry upon our Lord. An angel 
 announced to the Virgin the honor of her com- 
 ing motherhood : "Fear not, Mary : for thou hast 
 found favor with God." A choir of angels sang 
 in the hearing of the shepherds on the night of 
 Immanuel's birth: 
 
 "And there were shepherds in the same coun- 
 try abiding in the field, and keeping watch by 
 night over their flock. And an angel of the 
 Lord stood by them, and the glory of the Lord 
 shone round about them: and they were sore 
 afraid. And the angel said unto them, Be not 
 afraid ; for behold, I bring you good tidings of 
 great joy which shall be to all the people : for 
 there is born to you this day in the city of David 
 a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this 
 is the sign unto you; Ye shall find a babe 
 wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a 
 
 manger. And suddenly there was with the angel 
 196
 
 The Annunciation. (After the Painting by D. G. Rossetti.)
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOKROWS 
 
 a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, 
 and saying, 
 
 "Glory to God in the highest, 
 
 "And on earth peace among men in whom he 
 is well pleased. 
 
 "And it came to pass, when the angels went 
 away from them into heaven, the shepherds said 
 one to another, Let us now go even unto Beth- 
 lehem, and see this thing that is come to pass, 
 which the Lord hath made known unto us. And 
 they came with haste, and found both Mary and 
 Joseph, and the babe lying in the manger. And 
 when they saw it, they made known concerning 
 the sa}dng which was spoken to them about this 
 child. And all that heard it wondered at the 
 things which were spoken unto them by the 
 shepherds. But Mary kept all these sayings, 
 pondering them in her heart. And the shep- 
 herds returned, glorifying and praising God for 
 all the things that they had heard and seen, even 
 as it was spoken unto them. 
 
 "And when eight days were fulfilled for cir- 
 cumcising him, his name was called Jesus, 
 which was so called by the angel before he was 
 conceived in the womb." 
 
 Our Lord had the angels ever within his call ; 
 14 197
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 they were doubtless awed and amazed when they 
 beheld his humiliation, but their business, as 
 was his, supremely, was to do God's will fully, 
 and without a question. And so when he 
 needed them they ministered to him: in the 
 lonely nights upon the cold still mountains, in 
 the desert spaces, in the garden of his agony. 
 Angels said, as they waited to see his disciples 
 in the dawn of the resurrection, "He is not here. 
 He is risen !" and when he ascended, and a cloud 
 received him out of the sight of his friends and 
 followers, while yet they stood steadfastly gazing 
 into heaven as he went, behold two men stood by 
 them in white apparel, saying, "This Jesus shall 
 so come in like manner as ye beheld him going 
 into heaven." 
 
 Very dear to every Christian heart must be 
 that story of Peter shut up in prison by Herod 
 while prayer was made earnestly by the church 
 unto God for him. 
 
 "And when Herod was about to bring him 
 forth, the same night Peter was sleeping be- 
 tween two 'soldiers, bound with two chains : and 
 guards before the door kept the prison. And 
 behold, an angel of the Lord stood by him, and 
 
 a light shined in the cell : and he smote Peter on 
 19S
 
 TKUSTFUL TOMORROWS 
 
 the side, and awoke him, saying, Rise up quickly. 
 And his chains fell off from his hands. And the 
 angel said unto him, Gird thyself, and bind 
 on thy sandals." 
 
 As if the angel had said gently to the prisoner, 
 "Take thy time; there is no need of haste. 
 Herod shall not bring thee forth for death. 
 Jehovah Jesus gives thee life to serve him yet 
 a while longer here." 
 
 "And he saith unto him, Cast thy garment 
 about thee, and follow me. And he went out, 
 and followed; and he wist not that it was true 
 which was done by the angel, but thought he saw 
 a vision. And when they were past the first and 
 the second ward, they came unto the iron gate 
 that leadeth into the city ; which opened to them 
 of its own accord : and they went out, and passed 
 on through one street; and straightway the an- 
 gel departed from him. And when Peter was 
 come to himself, he said, Now I know of a truth, 
 that the Lord hath sent forth his angel and de- 
 livered me out of the hand of Herod, and from 
 all the expectation of the people of the Jews. 
 And when he had considered the thing, he came 
 to the house of Mary the mother of John whose 
 
 surname was Mark ; where many were gathered 
 199
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 together and were praying. And when he 
 knocked at the door of the gate, a maid came to 
 answer, named Ehoda. And when she knew 
 Peter's voice, she opened not the gate for joy, 
 but ran in, and told that Peter stood before the 
 gate. And they said unto her, Thou art mad. 
 But she confidently affirmed that it was even so. 
 And they said, It is his angel. But Peter con- 
 tinued knocking: and when they had opened, 
 they saw him, and were amazed. But he, beck- 
 oning unto them with the hand to hold their 
 peace, declared unto them how the Lord had 
 brought him forth out of the prison. And he 
 said, Tell these things unto James, and to the 
 brethren. And he departed, and went to another 
 place." 
 
 Not to you and me in these later times is it 
 appointed often that the angels shall bring their 
 hands of potency and break open our prison 
 doors in our sight; yet I am not doubtful that 
 they do come, and that when our doors of trouble 
 open of their own accord it is because God's 
 angels have been here to oil their hinges and 
 noiselessly turn their locks. To many a dear one 
 in the last hour of earthly life our Lord sends 
 
 his angels, and.thev come in compassion and 
 200
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 give the needed aid. And to an angel whatever 
 God bids is important; his errand to a hovel is 
 as welcome as his message to a palace. The 
 Eastern legend of the angel sent from God to 
 give counsel to King Solomon and also to help 
 on her way back to her people a little yellow ant, 
 burdened with a heavy load, has its lesson for us. 
 
 But once we are freed from the body and its 
 limitations, once we are 'safe at home, not an 
 angel, however strong and beautiful not Ga- 
 briel, nor Ithuriel, nor Michael shall lead us 
 into the great peace; but the Lamb that was 
 slain, our blessed Redeemer, shall himself con- 
 duct us to the green pastures and the still waters. 
 
 To Moses, to Gideon, to Elijah, to Daniel, to 
 Peter, to John, even to the incarnate Jesus him- 
 self, the angels came at need. To the saints, 
 ransomed by the precious blood and brought 
 home to go no more out, the Lord of the angels 
 shall give the sweet welcome, where 
 
 "Ten thousand. times ten thousand, 
 
 In sparkling raiment bright, 
 The armies of the ransomed saints 
 
 Throng up the steeps of light. 
 'Tis finished, all is finished, 
 
 Their fight with death and sin. 
 Fling open wide the golden gates, 
 
 And let the victors in !" 
 201
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 TALKING WITH OUR HEAVENLY FATHER 
 
 PRAYER is too often narrowed into a mere 
 begging of favors from God. We are in want of 
 many things; of health, of a business opening, 
 of ease of mind, of judgment so that we may 
 make right decisions. We are solicitous for our 
 loved ones; we do not know what is best for 
 them and we are afraid of making mistakes, or 
 they are ill and we long for their recovery. In 
 our consciousness of need we turn to God, peti- 
 tioning his help. Mrs. Browning puts the mat- 
 ter in a couplet, 
 
 "Lips say, God be pitiful, 
 
 That ne'er say, God be praised !" 
 
 In the day of our fullness and satisfaction we 
 do not seek the Lord as in the day of famine and 
 emptiness if our conception of prayer is merely 
 that prayer is a means of getting what we wish 
 for. 
 
 Prayer ought to be more than this to every 
 
 one of us. The prayer which is real is com- 
 
 " 202
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 munion with God. It is not only a plea for 
 grace; it is an acknowledgment of grace. It 
 loses itself in the dear sense of the endless love 
 of God as a drop is lost in the brimming cup ; as 
 a wave is lost in the sea. Prayer is adoration. 
 It is man lifting his soul to God in rejoicing, and 
 owning that every good gift and every perfect 
 gift comes down from above. They who live 
 near God in daily life must be often with him 
 in prayer, and from the hour of silence in his 
 presence they will never fail to derive refresh- 
 ment. 
 
 Prayer may properly carry every temporal 
 anxiety to the throne of grace and leave it there ; 
 for if God so clothe the lilies of the field, as he 
 does in their beautiful raiment, shall he not 
 much more clothe us ? But its larger scope, its 
 more insistent meaning, should lead it to con- 
 vey the desires of the spirit and the soul to him 
 who can make our higher nature regnant 
 over whatever is lower. The disciple will emu- 
 late his Master in intercession for those who 
 know not the Lord. Sometimes we exhaust our- 
 selves in endeavors for our children, our friends, 
 for those who have not found Christ precious, 
 
 but we forget that we may do more for them by 
 203
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 talking about them to our Heavenly Father than 
 by talking to them in our own partial and im- 
 perfect way. 
 
 If we have the right feeling about our rela- 
 tion to this dear Saviour, whose we are, and 
 whom we serve, and are living in an atmosphere 
 of prayer, we shall shrink from no place to 
 which he sends us. He may direct us to the 
 dark cellar and the attic room, to the obscure 
 and the lowly, to the prisoner in his cell, to the 
 untaught and the illiterate. Or he may say to 
 the young Christian girl that he wants her to 
 work for him in society, to shine for him in the 
 drawing-room, to move for him sweet as a 
 flower, harmonious as music, in gay throngs 
 where there are few who love him but many who 
 need him. "I am thine, dear Lord," the child's 
 answer will ring back, in response to the com- 
 mand, and in the white satin and fine linen and 
 purple of social splendor or in the rough home- 
 spun of poverty the child will discover the 
 sphere of duty. Each of us in this world fol- 
 lowing Christ is like the ship which puts out to 
 sea under sealed orders, our duty being just to 
 go where we are sent. 
 
 Perhaps you have read the life of Saint 
 204
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 Theresa, whose name is in the Roman calendar, 
 and who was a Spanish lady abbess of the Six- 
 teenth Century. She was a woman of deep piety 
 and unreserved consecration, and her biographer 
 tells us that she entered wonderfully into the 
 reality of the Christian life. "Our Lord was as 
 present, as near and as affable to this extraor- 
 dinary saint as ever he was to Martha or Mary 
 Magdalene or the mother of Zebedee's children. 
 She prepared him where to lay his head. She 
 sat at his feet and heard his word. She chose 
 the better part, and he acknowledged to herself 
 and to others that she had done so. She washed 
 his feet with her tears and wiped them with the 
 hair of her head. She had been forgiven much 
 and she loved much. He said to her, 'Mar} 7 ,' 
 and she answered him, 'Kabboni !' And he gave 
 her messages to his disciples who had not waited 
 for him as she had waited, till she was able to 
 say to them all that she had seen the Lord, and 
 that he had spoken such and such things within 
 her." One of Theresa's talks about prayer ap- 
 peals to many readers because of its practical 
 application to everyday trials and vicissitudes: 
 "The true proficiency of the soul consists not 
 so much in deep thinking or eloquent speaking or
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 beautiful writing as in much and warm loving. 
 Now if you ask me in what way this much and 
 warm love may be acquired, I answer, By resolv- 
 ing to do the will of God and by watching to do 
 his will as often as occasion offers. Those who 
 truly love God love all good wherever they find 
 it. They seek all good to all men. They en- 
 courage all good in all men. They commend all 
 good, they always unite themselves with all 
 good, they always acknowledge and defend all 
 good. They have no quarrels. They bear no 
 envy. Lord, give me more and more of this 
 blessed love. Grant me grace not to quit this 
 underworld life till I no longer desire anything, 
 nor am capable of loving anything, save thee 
 alone. Grant that I may use this word 'love' 
 with regard to thee alone, since there is no solid- 
 ity for my love to rest on save in thee. The soul 
 has her own ways of understanding, and of 
 finding in herself by certain signs and great 
 conjectures, whether she really loves his Divine 
 Majesty or no. Her love is full of high im- 
 pulses, and longings to see and to be with and 
 to be like God. All else tires and wearies out 
 the soul. The best of created things disappoint 
 
 and torment the soul. God alone satisfies the 
 206
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 soul, till it is impossible to dissemble or mistake 
 such a love. When once I came to see the great 
 beauty of our Lord it turned all other comeliness 
 to corruption to me. My heart could rest on 
 nothing and on no one but himself. When any- 
 thing else would enter my heart I had only to 
 turn my eyes for a moment in upon that su- 
 preme beauty that was engraven within me. So 
 that it is now impossible for any created thing 
 to so possess my soul as not to be instantly ex- 
 pelled, and my mind and heart set free by a 
 little effort to recover the remembrance of the 
 goodness and beauty of our Lord." 
 
 This conscious dwelling with Christ should 
 make the disciple a blithe companion on the 
 road. Andrew Bonar of Scotland, a man much 
 in prayer, used to say, "We should always be 
 wearing the garment of praise, not just waving 
 a palm-branch now and then." "Thanksgiv- 
 ing," said the same dear saint, "is the very air 
 of heaven. The oil of joy calms down the waves 
 of trouble." Keble knew the secret of this rare 
 state of mind when he wrote : 
 
 "Who but a Christian through all life 
 That blessing may prolong, 
 
 Who, through the world's sad day of strife, 
 Still chants his morning song. 
 207
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 "Ever the richest, tenderest glow 
 Sets round the autumnal sun. 
 
 But there sight fails ; no heart may know 
 The bliss when life is done." 
 
 Dr. A. J. Gordon so lived a life hidden with 
 Christ in God that his very countenance shone, 
 and all sorts of men tramps, drunkards, des- 
 perate persons turned to him with confidence 
 knowing that he would listen to their cr} r for 
 help, and help them if he could. He knew that 
 "a little talk with Jesus" better than anything 
 else "smooths the rugged way." 
 
 Elizabeth Prentiss, wife, mother, author, 
 friend, and as sanctified and set apart as Saint 
 Theresa herself for let no one think that God 
 especially honors those who from a mistaken de- 
 sire to please him retreat from the world dur- 
 ing her long and most useful life spent much 
 time in her closet. Prayer was to her the Chris- 
 tian's vital breath, and her letters, her conver- 
 sations with friends, her whole tenor of living, 
 showed that she was often alone with God. She 
 wrote in her diary, at a time when her health 
 was much impaired : 
 
 "Another peaceful, pleasant Sunday, whose 
 
 only drawback has been the want of strength to 
 208
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 get down on my knees and praise and pray to 
 my Saviour, as I long to do. For well as I am, 
 and astonishingly improved in every way, a 
 very few minutes' use of my voice, even in a 
 whisper, in prayer, exhausts me to such a de- 
 gree that I am ready to faint. This seems so 
 strange when I can go on talking to any extent 
 but then it is talking without emotion and in 
 a desultory way. Ah, well ! God knows hest in 
 what manner to let me live ; and I desire to ask 
 for nothing but a docile, acquiescent temper, 
 whose only petition shall be, 'What wilt thou 
 have me to do?' not how can I get most enjoy- 
 ment along the way. I can not believe, if I am 
 his child, that he will let anything hinder my 
 progress in the divine life. It seems dreadful 
 that I have gone on so slowly, and backward so 
 many times but then I have been thinking 
 this is 'to humble and to prove me, and to do me 
 good in the latter end.' ... I thank my 
 God and Saviour for every faint desire he gives 
 me to see him as he is, and to be changed into 
 his image, and for every struggle against sin 
 he enables me to make. It is all of him. I do 
 wish I loved him better! I do wish he were 
 
 never out of my thoughts, and that the aim to 
 209
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 do his will swallowed up all other desires and 
 strivings. Satan whispers that will never be. 
 But it shall be!. One day oh, longed-for, 
 blessed, blissful day! Christ will become my 
 All in all ! Yes, even mine !" 
 
 Again, she was writing to a young friend in 
 much trouble of mind concerning his salvation: 
 
 "I dare not answer your letter, just received, 
 in my own strength, but must pray over it long. 
 It is a great thing to learn how far our doubts 
 and despondencies are the direct result of physi- 
 cal causes, and another great thing is, when we 
 can not trace any such connection, to bear pa- 
 tiently and quietly what God permits, if he does 
 not authorize. I have no more doubt that you 
 love him, and that he loves you, than that I love 
 him and that he loves me. You have been daily 
 in my prayers. Temptations and conflict are 
 inseparable from the Christian life ; no strange 
 thing has happened to you. Let me comfort you 
 with the assurance that you will be taught more 
 and more by God's Spirit how to resist ; and that 
 true strength and holy manhood will spring up 
 from this painful soil. Try to take heart ; there 
 is more than one foot-print on the sands of time 
 
 to prove that 'some forlorn and shipwrecked 
 210
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 brother' has traversed them before you, and 
 come off conqueror through the Beloved. Don't 
 stop praying, for your life! Be as cold and 
 emotionless as you please ; God will accept your 
 naked faith, when it has no glow or warmth in 
 it; and in his own time the loving, glad heart 
 will come back to you. You can't complain of 
 any folly to which I could not plead guilty. I 
 have put my Saviour's patience to every possible 
 test ; and how I love him when I think what he 
 will put up with ! 
 
 "You ask if I 'ever feel that religion is a 
 sham.' No; never. I know it is a reality. If 
 you ask if I am ever staggered by the incon- 
 sistencies of professing Christians, I say } r es; I 
 am often made heartsick by them; but heart- 
 sickness always makes me run to Christ, and one 
 good look at him pacifies me. This is in fact my 
 panacea for every ill ; and as to my own sinful- 
 ness, that would certainly overwhelm me if I 
 spent much time, in looking at it. But it is a 
 monster whose face I do not love to see ; I turn 
 from its hideousness to the beauty of his face 
 who sins not, and the sight of 'yon lovely Man' 
 ravishes me. But at your age I did this only by 
 
 fits and starts, and suffered as you do. So I 
 211
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 know how to feel for you, and what to ask for 
 you. God purposely sickens us of man and of 
 self that we may learn to 'look long at Jesus.' " 
 
 One test of our discipleship is found, I think, 
 just where Mrs. Prentiss stood when she took 
 time in her busy life to pray for, and to write to, 
 a friend about the interests of the soul. Let us 
 interrogate ourselves concerning our talks with 
 our Father in heaven. Are they altogether self- 
 ish, or are we concerned for those who are with- 
 out the pale ; for those whom we love but who do 
 not love Christ ? 
 
 Do we ever escape from the group of our own 
 intimate acquaintances and feel a yearning for 
 those whom we do not know, but for whom 
 Christ died? 
 
 "There were ninety and nine that safely lay 
 In the shelter of the fold." 
 
 They were protected from the storm, but the 
 Shepherd cared for the one that was out in the 
 wilderness, and his voice said, 
 
 "I go to the desert to find my sheep." 
 
 The true heroes of Christendom to-day are 
 those men and women who, caring not for ease 
 
 and scorning luxury, are willing to endure hard- 
 212
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 ship, privation and loneliness, living in remote 
 fastnesses of the mountains, in Chinese villages, 
 in Hindu cities, in fishers' huts by the Arabian 
 Sea, that they may tell the lost of the Saviour. 
 They could never bear their lives if they were 
 not often in prayer, if talking with the Heavenly 
 
 Father were not their meat and drink. 
 15 213
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 STAR-LIKE in its radiance, the story of Ruth, 
 the fair maiden of Moab who, when her young 
 husband died, clung so loyally to her sorrowful 
 mother-in-law, still beams from the sacred page. 
 Ruth in those old days was as unique as any 
 Enid, Elaine, or Priscilla of a later time. 
 
 A certain man of Beth-lehem-judah, by name 
 Elimelech, finding it impossible to care for his 
 family during one of the famines which visited 
 the land, emigrated with them to the country 
 of Moab. We are not to imagine that Elimelech 
 meant to remain in Moab beyond the immediate 
 exigence of the situation. He went to sojourn 
 there, to stay where there was pasture for his 
 flocks and food for his household and where his 
 sons could grow up in comfort, until again the 
 rains should fall and the harvests spring, and 
 his native Beth-lehem be again a house of bread. 
 Sojourn carries in its very meaning and sound 
 a significance which we know when we talk of 
 
 doing things by the day. 
 214
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 But the little family group was never again to 
 dwell in one home in the dear land where Elim- 
 elech had wooed Naomi, in the pleasant land 
 where the true God was worshiped and in all the 
 sanctuary rites there was a foreshadowing of the 
 Lamb slain from the foundation of the world. 
 They continued a long while in Moab, and made 
 friends there, and there Elimelech died, and 
 Naomi was left a widow, with two sons who, 
 after the Oriental fashion, married and brought 
 home their wives, to be to her as daughters. One 
 was Orpah, one was Ruth ; and for ten years they 
 dwelt together, when Mahlon and Chilion both 
 died. Then indeed was Naomi left desolate, for 
 in the alien country her roots had not struck 
 deeply, and she turned in her homesick misery 
 to go back to her own people and her father's 
 house. 
 
 Nothing can exceed the pathos of the story. 
 Naomi embraced her daughters-in-law, and bade 
 them leave her. 
 
 "Wherefore she went forth out of the place 
 where she was, and her two daughters-in-law 
 with her; and they went on the way to return 
 unto the land of Judah. And Naomi said unto 
 
 her two daughters-in-law, Go, return each to her 
 215
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 mother's house : the Lord deal kindly with you, 
 as ye have dealt with the dead, and with me." 
 
 But they refused to go, Orpah partially, Kuth 
 absolutely; Orpah went hack, gently reluctant, 
 hut after all relieved and light of heart, to her 
 own family, her mother, and her gods, to find a 
 husband in Moab, and to be heard of no more 
 forever. 
 
 Not so Ruth. She clung to the weeping 
 Naomi, offering her young strength to aid that 
 weakness of oncoming age. In words which, 
 though familiar through much repetition, still 
 drip with sweetness and vibrate with melody 
 she said: "Entreat me not to leave thee, or to 
 return from following after thee: for whither 
 thou goest, I will go ; and where thou lodgest, I 
 will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and 
 thy God my God: where thou diest, will I die, 
 and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to 
 me, and more also, if aught but death part thee 
 and me." 
 
 Thenceforward the two women walked on to- 
 gether, and came, mother and daughter bound 
 by a new and tender tie, to Beth-lehem. The 
 landscape beckoned Naomi; to Ruth it was the 
 
 land of exile, bravelv chosen and not unwelcome. 
 216
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 She was going with Naomi to Naomi's old 
 friends and acquaintances, but also to care and 
 toil and poverty ; for Naomi went out full and 
 was returning empty. 
 
 It was the beginning of the barley harvest, 
 and in those days the rich, according to the 
 thoughtful consideration of the Mosaic economy, 
 made a certain provision for the poor by leaving 
 ears for them to glean in the track of the reapers. 
 Boaz was a noble and generous citizen of Beth- 
 lehem, and though not next of kin was of the 
 family of Elimelech. Naomi sent Euth to glean 
 in the rich man's fields ; he saw and was at- 
 tracted by the lovely girl ; in due season he mar- 
 ried her and thus redeemed the debt which their 
 kindred owed to those who were gone. Euth, 
 thus entering in the Messianic line, became the 
 grandmother of David and an ancestress of Him 
 who was the lily of the valley and the rose of 
 Sharon, the bright and morning star of the 
 world's darkness, the hope of Israel, the Friend 
 and Master of the great company of the ran- 
 somed. Thus met Gent'ile with Jew in the lin- 
 eage of the Christ. 
 
 Loyalty, obedience, cheerfulness and faith 
 
 seem the distinguishing characteristics of the 
 217
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 beautiful Kuth. A country girl, reared among 
 the mountains and the fields, she brought to the 
 statelier and more luxurious life which was hers 
 as the wife of Boaz the traditions and the 
 strength of the hills. Reared in idolatry, she 
 came out of its fetters into the freedom of the 
 one true worship, into the company of those who 
 adored Jehovah. She forsook her own people 
 and her father's house, and to her was fulfilled 
 in abundant measure the word spoken by the 
 Lord : "Instead of thy fathers shall be thy chil- 
 dren, whom thou shalt make princes in all the 
 earth ; I will make thy name to be remembered 
 in all generations; therefore shall the peoples 
 give thee thanks forever and ever." 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning, describing a 
 beautiful and unselfish woman, said of her, 
 words which might have been applied with equal 
 fitness to Ruth of Moab : 
 
 "Her air had a meaning, her movements a grace ; 
 You turned from the fairest to gaze on her face ; 
 And when you had once seen her forehead and mouth 
 You saw as distinctly her soul and her truth. 
 
 "I doubt if she said to you much that could act 
 As a thought or suggestion ; she did not attract 
 In the sense of the brilliant or wise ; I infer 
 'Twas her thinking of others made you think of her." 
 218
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 Longfellow, in a very familiar lyric, alluded to 
 our heroine thus; it is a lover addressing his 
 beloved : 
 
 "Long was the good man's sermon 
 
 But it seemed not so to me, 
 For he spake of Ruth the beautiful, 
 
 And then I thought of thee." 
 
 As long as time endures, poet and painter will 
 turn wistfully toward the vision of the fair 
 woman gleaning "amid the alien corn," and all 
 generations shall call her blessed. 
 
 Many years later the gifted grandson of Euth 
 already predestined to be king of Israel, with the 
 chrism of Samuel's flask upon his head but in 
 peril of life through the enmity of Saul, was 
 wandering, an outlaw, in the wilderness of 
 Paran. A band of other outlaws, brave, daring, 
 and adventurous, the Eobin Hoods of the period, 
 surrounded their splendid young captain and 
 did his bidding. In Carmel, near the forests 
 where David and his men found shelter, there 
 was a rich and very great man who had flocks 
 and herds. There are men to-day who count 
 their wealth by many figures, and who are as 
 sordid of heart and as truly paupers in spirit as 
 
 was Nabal the churl. He had three thousand 
 219
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AXD 
 
 eheep and a thousand goats and the annual sheep 
 shearing had come, and a very natural request 
 was sent to the owner of these vast flocks by the 
 soldier, who for many months had not only re- 
 frained from molesting the shepherds of Xabal 
 but had with a strong hand kept other maraud- 
 ers away. The Bible narrative is Homeric in its 
 simplicity : 
 
 "And David heard in the wilderness that 
 Nabal did shear his sheep. And David sent out 
 ten young men, and David said unto the young 
 men, Get you up to Carmel, and go to Nabal, and 
 greet him in my name : and thus shall ye say to 
 him that liveth in prosperity, Peace be both 
 to thee, and peace be to thine house, and peace 
 be unto all that thou hast. And now I have 
 heard that thou hast shearers: now thy shep- 
 herds which were with us, we hurt them not, 
 neither was there aught missing unto them, all 
 the while they were in Carmel. Ask thy young 
 men, and they will shew thee. Wherefore let the 
 young men find favour in thine eyes; for we 
 come in a good day : give, I pray thee, whatso- 
 ever cometh to thine hand unto thy servants, and 
 to thy son David. And when David's young 
 
 men came, they spake to Nabal according to all 
 220
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 those words in the name of David, and ceased. 
 And Nabal answered David's servants, and said, 
 Who is David? and who is the son of Jesse? 
 there be many servants nowadays that break 
 away every man from his master. Shall I then 
 take my bread, and my water, and my flesh that 
 I have killed for my shearers, and give it unto 
 men, whom I know not whence they be? So 
 David's young men turned their way, and went 
 again, and came and told him all those sayings. 
 And David said unto his men, Gird ye on every 
 man his sword. And they girded on every man 
 his sword ; and David also girded on his sword : 
 and there went up after David about four hun- 
 dred men; and two hundred abode by the stuff. 
 But one of the young men told Abigail, Nabal's 
 wife, saying, Behold, David sent messengers out 
 of the wilderness to salute our master; and he 
 railed on them. But the men were very good 
 unto us, and we were not hurt, neither missed 
 we any thing, as long as we were conversant with 
 them, when we were in the fields. They were a 
 wall unto us both by night and day, all the while 
 we were with them keeping the sheep. Now 
 therefore know and consider what thou wilt do, 
 
 for evil is determined against our master and 
 221
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 against all his house, for he is such a son of 
 Belial that one cannot speak to him." 
 
 Abigail, Nabal's wife, was a comely matron of 
 rare understanding, the type of the prudent 
 housewife, a great lady, with a heart and brain 
 which rose to meet the occasion. David was 
 riding rapidly towards her home, with four 
 hundred fierce and angry armed men; such an 
 armament as might well cause terror to spring 
 in the breasts of those against whom its attack 
 was presently to be made. They were famished 
 men too, gaunt with hunger, and sterner for 
 privation and disappointment; reckless, and 
 justly resentful at ingratitude and insult. Ac- 
 cording to the canons of their day, they were 
 fully within their right in visiting a swift and 
 utter wreck on Nabal and his house. Indeed, in 
 the war canons of any day, hatred, malice, wrath 
 and cruelty stalk unrebuked, and David's in- 
 tended onslaught on Nabal is not without its 
 parallels in our nineteenth century. 
 
 Abigail, wise woman that she was, lost no 
 time. The men must be conciliated. They were 
 starving and must be appeased by food. Hastily 
 she gathered such provision as in a well ap- 
 pointed household was at her hand. 
 990
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 "Then Abigail made haste and took two 
 hundred loaves, and two bottles of wine, and 
 five sheep ready dressed, and five measures 
 of parched corn, and an hundred clusters 
 of raisins, and two hundred cakes of figs, 
 and laid them on asses. And she said unto 
 her young men, Go on before me; behold, 
 I come after you. But she told not her 
 husband Nabal. And it was so, as she rode on 
 her ass, and came down by the covert of the 
 mountain, that, behold, David and his men came 
 down against her; and she met them. Now 
 David had said, Surely in vain have I kept all 
 that this fellow hath in the wilderness, so that 
 nothing was missed of all that pertained unto 
 him: and he hath returned me evil for good. 
 God do so unto the enemies of David, and more 
 also, if I leave of all that pertain to him by the 
 morning light so much as one man child. And 
 when Abigail saw David, she hasted, and lighted 
 off her ass, and fell before David on her face, 
 and bowed herself to the ground. And she fell 
 at his feet, and said, Upon me, my lord, upon me 
 be the iniquity : and let thine handmaid, I pray 
 thee, speak in thine ears, and hear thou the 
 
 words of thine handmaid. Let not my Lord, I 
 223
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 pray thee, regard this man of Belial, even 
 Nabal : for as his name is, so is he ; Nabal is his 
 name, and folly is with him : but I thine hand- 
 maid saw not the young men of my lord, whom 
 thou didst send. Now therefore, my lord, as the 
 Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, seeing the 
 Lord hath withholden thee from bloodguiltiness, 
 and from avenging thyself with thine own hand, 
 now therefore let thine enemies, and them that 
 seek evil to my lord, be as Nabal. And now this 
 present which thy servant hath brought unto 
 my lord, let it be given unto the young men that 
 follow my lord. Forgive, I pray thee, the tres- 
 pass of thine handmaid : for the Lord will cer- 
 tainly make my lord a sure house, because my 
 lord fighteth the battles of the Lord; and evil 
 shall not be found in thee all thy days. And 
 though man be risen up to pursue thee, and to 
 seek thy soul, yet the soul of my lord shall be 
 bound in the bundle of life with the Lord thy 
 God ; and the souls of thine enemies, them shall 
 he sling out, as from the hollow of a sling. And 
 it shall come to pass, when the Lord shall have 
 done to my lord according to all the good that 
 he hath spoken concerning thee, and shall have 
 
 appointed thee prince over Israel ; that this shall 
 224
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 be no grief unto thee, nor offence of heart unto 
 my lord, either that thou hast shed blood cause- 
 less, or that my lord hath avenged himself : and 
 when the Lord shall have dealt well with my 
 ]ord, then remember thine handmaid. And 
 David said to Abigail, Blessed be the Lord, the 
 God of Israel, which sent thee this day to meet 
 me : and blessed be thy wisdom, and blessed be 
 thou, which hast kept me this day from blood- 
 guiltiness, and from avenging myself with mine 
 own hand. For in very deed, as the Lord, the 
 God of Israel, liveth, which hath withholden me 
 from hurting thee, except thou hadst hasted and 
 come to meet me, surely there had not been left 
 unto Nabal by the morning light so much as one 
 man child. So David received of her hand that 
 which she had brought him : and he said unto 
 her, Go up in peace to thine house ; see, I have 
 hearkened to thy voice, and have accepted thy 
 person." 
 
 We may note the exceeding tact of Abigail in 
 her approach to David, in her choice of a gift to 
 be sent on before her, and in her appeal to his 
 higher nature. When the days of his obscurity 
 and peril should have passed, and the Lord 
 should have brought him unto honor and do-
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 minion, she told him it would be a grief of heart 
 to remember having needlessly shed innocent 
 blood. Her wit, discretion and good sense pre- 
 vailed, and David withheld his men from vio- 
 lence and left Nabal's estate in peace. ISTabal 
 indeed died soon after, but it was at the hand of 
 the Lord and not by the weapons of David. 
 
 Abigail's portrait might well have been in 
 Solomon's mind when he drew the model woman 
 in matchless lines : 
 
 "Who can find a virtuous woman? for her 
 price is far above rubies. The heart of her hus- 
 band doth safely trust in her, so that he shall 
 have no need of spoil. She will do him good 
 and not evil all the days of her life. . . . 
 She looketh well to the ways of her household 
 and eateth not the bread of idleness." 
 
 We do not know the name of the Queen of 
 Sheba, but she had courage, and curiosity, and 
 a desire to learn more than she could in her own 
 land, and so, when rumors were brought to her 
 of a young monarch who was wise and master- 
 ful, and possessed of the favor of the Most High, 
 she came with a very great train camels that 
 bare spices and gold in abundance and precious 
 
 stones. One can see the grand lady in her litter, 
 22G
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 her guards around her, her soldiers riding in 
 front and rear, and far behind her ; the ships of 
 the desert slowly passing with their freight of 
 the precious and the rare. We have only a 
 glimpse of her as she is entertained by King 
 Solomon, and we can picture her surprise and 
 pleasure as she finds that the half has not been 
 told her of the state and splendor which sur- 
 rounded him. No doubt she carried back new 
 ideas to her people and her friends, and a glim- 
 mering of the light which was yet to lighten the 
 world. 
 
 Esther, the Jewish girl who was elevated to 
 the throne of Persia, divides with Euth the in- 
 terest of Bible readers, since she too was young 
 and fair, and since in immortal youth and 
 beauty she moves through the course of history. 
 Ahasuerus has little to commend him to our 
 admiration. This proud, petulant, arrogant 
 and despotic sovereign first deeply insulted his 
 wife, Queen Vashti, and then childishly deposed 
 her from her position. A succession of young 
 women were inspected, as slaves in the market 
 might be, before one was found who in all re- 
 spects pleased the royal tyrant. One pities 
 Esther even when she obtained grace and favor 
 
 227
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 in the sight of the king, and when he loved her 
 above all the women. Xo love, as we know that 
 pure and hallowed passion, could exist in the 
 breast of a polygamous Eastern king. Esther 
 simply entered the harem as chief favorite, with 
 the distinction of being the king's wife and per- 
 haps the mother of his heir. It may be that 
 Vashti was childless, in which case she would 
 have lost one of her strongest holds on the hus- 
 band who paid her so little respect. 
 
 We know the story how Haman plotted to 
 destroy the Jews by wholesale, then as now the 
 Hebrews, by reason of sagacity, thrift and su- 
 preme cleverness, being objects of envy to other 
 and less gifted nations ; and how Mordecai dis- 
 covered and defeated the wicked conspiracy, 
 aided by Esther, who alone could help her peo- 
 ple in the crisis. Her "If I perish, I perish," as 
 she waits for the king to extend the golden scep- 
 ter, still touches our hearts. 
 
 Not so, dear friends, need we approach the 
 presence chamber of our gracious Lord and 
 King. He is ever extending the scepter of his 
 merciful favor, and when we will we may go to 
 him, sure of an audience, and sure of a reception 
 
 full of kindness and compassion. 
 
 228
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 No one who has with care perused the Old 
 Testament narratives has failed to observe the 
 recognition given to motherhood. The mothers 
 made the men, then as now, and if a king were 
 good or were bad, were reverent or profane, one 
 had not to look very far to see what sort of 
 
 mother brought him up. 
 16 229
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 DAILY PROBLEMS 
 
 IN THE MORNING 
 
 HERE'S a new day ; blessed Jesus, 
 Wilt thou take it for thine own? 
 
 In its hours may I serve thee, 
 Looking ever to the throne. 
 
 Keep me in the strong temptation 
 
 That I may not fall away, 
 Be thy love my full salvation 
 
 From Satanic wiles to-day. 
 
 Hold me safe in sudden trial, 
 Let me know thy presence near; 
 
 Give me grace for self-denial, 
 Present blessing, Saviour dear. 
 
 If this day an earthly friendship 
 
 Fail me like the smoking flax, 
 Let my hold on thee be firmer, 
 
 Nor my grasp of heaven relax. 
 
 Wholly thine, my blessed Master, 
 
 Wholly thine, in work or rest, 
 This day, all days, till the last one 
 
 When I lean me on thy breast. 
 
 I was present the other day when several 
 young people were discussing the character of 
 
 a relative slightly known to me, and just then 
 230
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 an object of sympathy because she had lost her 
 home. 
 
 "I don't know what will become of her," said 
 Katharine. "Cousin Dor-inda is a good woman, 
 nobody can doubt her piety, but she is very hard 
 to live with. Somehow, she never fits in any- 
 where. Where another person would conciliate 
 she antagonizes, and a spirit of contention fol- 
 lows wherever she goes." 
 
 Her own sister said : "If Dorinda is to come 
 here I might as well break up housekeeping at 
 once. She would ruin the peace of our home." 
 
 Louise took up the conversation. "Yes," she 
 said, thoughtfully, "I know. Cousin Dorinda is 
 very sensitive. If she cannot have her own way 
 she either goes about looking black and sullen 
 like a thunder cloud, making everybody wretch- 
 ed, or else she melts into tears, and cries and 
 puts the family in the wrong. Nobody has ever 
 had patience with her except grandmother, and 
 now that she is gone nobody on this earth wants 
 Dorinda. She is simply an impossible person in 
 a household. She is, as Katharine says, Tiard 
 to live with/ " 
 
 My thoughts went very sorrowfully toward 
 
 this absent Dorinda, whose disposition was so 
 231
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 unfortunate. Our mothers do bear with us when 
 the rest of the world refuses its tolerance, and 
 hers had apparently borne with her. But the 
 patient mother heart was no longer here, and 
 friends and kith and kin were all afraid of the 
 constant companionship of Dorinda. She was 
 not rich enough to live by herself in independ- 
 ence, nor strong enough to go out in the business 
 world and find employment by which she could 
 earn her bread. A good housekeeper, a lady by 
 birth and training, a member of the church, and, 
 I am sure, a sincere disciple of Christ, Dorinda, 
 at forty-five, was desired nowhere, because of her 
 "contrary ways." In those two words a nephew 
 summed up his opinion of the aunt whom he 
 emphatically hoped would not take up her abode 
 under his roof. She was a woman of contrary 
 ways. 
 
 Thinking it over, it came to me that Dorinda 
 had been making herself an unpopular and un- 
 desired member of society by slow degrees, and 
 during a term of years. As a child and a young 
 girl she had been a little willful, perhaps, and 
 perhaps a trifle too pronounced in her manner of 
 stating a position and holding up her end of an 
 
 argument. Gradually, a little at a time, her 
 32
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOEEOWS 
 
 peculiarities had become intensified. She had 
 allowed her temper to triumph over politeness 
 and kindness. She had lost self-control. She 
 had grown difficult; a person to be studied; a 
 person of moods and caprices, a person unloving, 
 I am afraid, and whom people did not love. 
 
 If I were writing about the duties of others to 
 Dorinda I would drop a hint that it would be 
 well to exercise gentleness to a woman in her 
 case, to be specially tender and considerate, as 
 one would be to an invalid or a crippled person, 
 since here was a calamity, not to the body, but 
 to the heart and mind. I did not feel that 
 Louise and Katharine and the young nephew 
 were wholly in the right, as I observed how lack- 
 ing in charity they were to their kinswoman. 
 But I am not writing for them to-day, and so I 
 will just quote a favorite Scripture test and pass 
 on to my subject: "We that are strong ought 
 to bear the infirmities of the weak." Even in- 
 firmities like those of a cross, resentful, and an- 
 noying person in the family may be borne with 
 serenity by those who are strong and recruit 
 their strength daily by prayer to Christ. 
 
 But does it ever appeal to you, dear young 
 
 girl, to you, Marjorie or Dorothy, that a time 
 233
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 may come when your acquaintances may speak 
 of you pityingly, as one who has ways, and 
 moods, and who is not easy to get on with ? How 
 would you like it, if, having grown older, you 
 should observe that younger people were shy of 
 being their real selves in your company ? That 
 they repressed speech, and studied your expres- 
 sion, and were afraid to be mirthful if you were 
 in the room? Every middle-aged or elderly 
 woman or man who has ever had this humiliat- 
 ing experience was once young ; and there was a 
 beginning, when faults which are now blots upon 
 his or her individuality were so small that no one 
 suspected their existence. 
 
 The lesson for us, every one, is to be watchful 
 of our manner; watchful of our words. We 
 should daily seek to grow in unselfishness and in 
 likeness to the Saviour. Few of us will ever 
 have the opportunity to perform great deeds of 
 heroism, but to every one of us there is given the 
 chance day by day to be sweet and gracious and 
 winsome. No one who reads this need ever be- 
 come, like poor Miss Dorinda, a dread to her 
 friends and family if only she will begin now to 
 cultivate the art of responsive kindness; if she 
 
 will determine to be- easy, not hard, to live with. 
 234
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 From living together in the home the transi- 
 tion is easy to living together in the church and 
 in the community. We cannot separate our- 
 selves from the people next door, nor from the 
 acquaintances over the way, nor from the friends 
 in the opposite pew. It still exists, though if we 
 form our conclusions from observations taken in 
 our great bustling cities we shall be quite ready 
 to affirm that neighborliness is a thing of the 
 past. One is more and more struck with the un- 
 friendliness of a great town. You do not know 
 often you do not care to know the people 
 who live next door to you on either side, and the 
 dwellers on the opposite corner or at the other 
 end of the street are as remote from your con- 
 sciousness as if they lived in Patagonia. It hap- 
 pens not infrequently that you grow accustomed 
 to certain familiar figures: an old gentleman 
 with a gold-headed cane ; a lady who wears the 
 dignity of her eighty years as she does her satin 
 cloak and velvet bonnet. After a while these 
 persons cease to be denizens of the street. They 
 have grown feeble and are remaining indoors, 
 or they have faded out of life. The brisk busi- 
 ness man who goes at the same hour each morn- 
 ing to his office or shop, who catches a certain 
 235
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 car at the corner, becomes known to you as a 
 resident in the vicinity, but you have no particu- 
 lar curiosity about his name or circumstances. 
 
 One day you go home from a round of visits, 
 or from your own business office, and you see a 
 wreath of flowers on the door-bell of the neigh- 
 boring house, and people going in and out, and 
 you are aware that that gray and shadowy angel, 
 who impartially visits every home in the world 
 when its turn conies, has crossed your neigh- 
 bor's threshold. But it is nothing to you. Pos- 
 sibly you inquire the circumstances ; very likely 
 you remind yourself that you did not know the 
 person in life, and that you have no right to in- 
 trude with inquiries or sympathy upon the sur- 
 vivors who have their own friends and do not 
 need you. 
 
 If you have had your early home in a sociable, 
 friendly village where everybody knew everybody 
 else, where it was the custom to hob-nob over the 
 garden gate with the man next door where the 
 whole town rejoiced when some great honor or 
 happiness came to a child of the place and the 
 whole town grieved when there was a corre- 
 sponding sorrow you feel very lonesome and 
 desolate in your first plunge into city life. 
 
 236
 
 TKUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 Do not, however, forget that in our country 
 there are many phases of life ; and that while a 
 nomad instinct has brought many wayfarers to 
 the city, to find the solitude of crowds, yet there 
 still are joy and love and friendliness in many 
 smaller towns and villages and along the pleasant 
 country-side. It still happens that a neighbor 
 in one of these blessed smaller places, finding 
 herself suddenly able to take a week's journey 
 with her husband, may call upon her friend next 
 door to mother her brood while she is gone. Not 
 long ago, in a lovely Southern town where I was 
 visiting, I called upon a beautiful and childless 
 woman whose charming home was at the mo- 
 ment fairly overflowing with juvenile life. Lit- 
 tle white-haired boys and girls were playing on 
 the veranda with their dolls and little carts, a 
 motherly black nurse sat on the door-step with 
 a dimpled baby in her arms, and my friend ob- 
 served: "My neighbor has gone to California 
 and I am taking care of her children for her 
 until she returns." Could sisterly kindness go 
 farther than this ? For the friends were simply 
 friends not relatives and this kind neighbor 
 was taking on herself the responsibility of look- 
 ing after the possible accidents which might be- 
 237
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 fall a flock of restless boys, the possible croups 
 and fevers which might attack the little ones in 
 the night, while the mother went happily away 
 on her journey without a care; knowing how 
 safe her children would be in the hands of her 
 friend. 
 
 In the same city, if company unexpectedly ar- 
 rives and the dessert is not sufficient, near neigh- 
 bors are quite willing to go without theirs that 
 the friend whose guests have come may not find 
 herself at a loss. Pies and puddings, creams and 
 custards, are sent over the back fence; and in 
 one instance, when a husband unexpectedly 
 brought home with him three old college-mates 
 who had dropped in upon him from space, his 
 wife, knowing that the modest steak provided 
 for dinner would not satisfy these hungry appe- 
 tites, went confidently to her neighbor next door. 
 An exchange was presently effected, and a goodly 
 roast smoking from the oven made its appear- 
 ance on the table where it was needed, while the 
 steak changed hands and sufficed for the wants 
 of the family who had no company. This kind 
 of pleasant, unofficial neighborliness has not 
 departed from a thousand of our Southern 
 
 towns, from our New England villages, and 
 238
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 from our blessed country homes in any part of 
 the land. 
 
 In our cities we have many advantages; as, 
 for example, the trained nurse, who comes at 
 a moment's call in the hour of calamity or anx- 
 iety or of severe illness, but in country places 
 where the trained nurse is not easily attainable 
 there are yet to be found kind and motherly 
 women with faculty, women who understand 
 nursing, and who come to a household in its 
 hour of extremity and do their womanly best. 
 "My husband lay at death's door for weeks," said 
 a friend to me. "I don't know what I should 
 have done if my neighbors had not taken turns 
 in helping me care for him." Thinking of in- 
 stances like this one repeats the old Bible phrase 
 with thankfulness, "Better is a neighbor that is 
 near than a brother that is far off." 
 
 I question if we do not lose a great deal by 
 limiting our neighborly acquaintance and our 
 neighborly interchange of kindness as we do in 
 our town life. Many a time there is an aching 
 heart not far off which we may cheer. Often, 
 if we would encourage the impulse, we might be- 
 come pleasantly acquainted with people divided 
 
 from us only by a narrow partition wall, and it 
 239
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 would do us good and not evil to come in touch 
 with their lives. There is a certain sadness in 
 the thought that we sometimes miss an acquaint- 
 ance and after a little interval of days or weeks 
 inquire what has become of her, and are told 
 that she was buried at such a time. We might 
 at least have gone to take a look at the still face 
 or laid a flower upon the coffin. That act of 
 kindness would not have hurt us, and it might 
 have been balm and sweetness to some wounded 
 and mourning heart. 
 
 INDOORS AT NIGHT 
 
 Keen and cold is the wintry blast 
 
 As the sleet and snow go driving past ; 
 
 There's a strife in the old trees, racked and bent, 
 
 The clouds hang low o'er the firmament, 
 
 But the household gathers safe and warm, 
 
 Folded close from the freezing storm ; 
 
 The lamp is lighted, the hearth is bright, 
 
 And the dear ones are cozy indoors at night. 
 
 And when shutters are closed and curtains drawn, 
 And the toiling hours of the day are gone, 
 Sweet words are spoken, good nights are said 
 To the wee ones tucked in the little bed. 
 (God's grace watch over each curly head!) 
 Then with book, and talk, and the dear old song 
 We have loved since the days when we were young, 
 We will fill the hours with love's delight, 
 Cozy and happy indoors at night. 
 240
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-^IOKEOWS 
 
 TBUST 
 
 I know not if to-morrow 
 
 Shall bless me like to-day ; 
 Of night I sometimes borrow 
 
 Dark clouds and shadows gray ; 
 For sinful, sick and weary, 
 
 Of this I still am sure : 
 No clouds or shadows dreary 
 
 Shall my sweet heaven obscure. 
 
 Oh, much is left uncertain 
 
 In this strange life below ; 
 But faith lifts up the curtain 
 
 And sees the inner glow ; 
 And nothing now can move me, 
 
 Nor shake my joy so pure ; 
 For Christ has stooped to love me, 
 
 And of his love I'm sure. 
 
 IF THE LORD SHOULD COME 
 
 If the Lord should come in the morning 
 As I went about my work 
 
 The little things and the quiet things 
 That a servant cannot shirk, 
 
 Though nobody ever sees them, 
 And only the dear Lord cares 
 
 That they always are done in the light of the sun- 
 Would he take me unawares? 
 
 If my Lord should come at noonday, 
 
 The time of the dust and heat, 
 When the glare is white, and the air is still, 
 
 And the hoof-beats sound in the street 
 If my dear Lord came at noonday, 
 
 And smiled in my tired eyes, 
 Would it not be sweet his look to meet? 
 
 Would he take me by surprise? 
 241
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 If my Lord came hither at evening, 
 
 In the fragrant dew and dusk, 
 When the world drops off its mantle 
 
 Of daylight like a husk 
 And flowers in wonderful beauty, 
 
 And we fold our hands and rest, 
 Would his touch of my hand, his low command. 
 
 Bring me unhoped-for zest? 
 
 Why do I ask and question? 
 
 He is ever coming to me, 
 Morning and noon and evening, 
 
 If I have but eyes to see. 
 And the daily load grows lighter, 
 
 The daily cares grow sweet, 
 For the Master is near, the Master is here, 
 
 I have only to sit at his feet. 
 
 GOOD INTENTIONS 
 
 What wonderful things we have planned, Love, 
 
 What beautiful things we have done, 
 What fields we have tilled, what gifts we have willed, 
 
 In the light of another year's sun ! 
 When we think of it all we are baffled, 
 
 There's so much that never comes true ; 
 Because, Love, instead of our doing, 
 
 We're always just meaning to do. 
 
 The friends we are wanting to help, Love, 
 
 They struggle alone and forlorn, 
 By trial and suffering vanquished, 
 
 Perchance by temptation o'erborne : 
 But the lift, and the touch, and the greeting 
 
 That well might have aided them through 
 The perilous strait of ill-fortune, 
 
 They miss : we're but meaning to do. 
 242
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 We dream of a fountain of knowledge ; 
 
 We loiter along on its brink, 
 And toy with the crystalline waters, 
 
 Forever just meaning to drink. 
 Night falls, and our tasks are unfinished, 
 
 Too late our lost chances we rue, 
 Dear Love, while our comrades were doing 
 
 We only were MEANING TO DO. 
 
 BETAKE THYSELF TO PRAYEB 
 
 When bitter winds of trouble blow, 
 And thou art tossing to and fro, 
 When waves are rolling mountain high, 
 And clouds obscure the steadfast sky, 
 Fear not, my soul ; thy Lord is there. 
 Betake thyself, my soul, to prayer. 
 
 When in the dull routine of life 
 
 Thou yearnest half for pain and strife, 
 
 So weary of the commonplace, 
 
 Of days that wear the self-same face, 
 
 Think softly, soul ; thy Lord is there. 
 
 And then betake thyself to prayer. 
 
 When brims thy cup with sparkling joy, 
 When happy tasks the hours employ, 
 When men with praise and sweet acclaim 
 Upon the highway speak thy name, 
 Then, soul, I bid thee have a care ; 
 Seek oft thy Lord in fervent prayer. 
 
 If standing where two pathways meet, 
 Each beckoning thy pilgrim feet, 
 Thou art in doubt which road to take, 
 Look up, and say : "For thy dear sake 
 O Master ! show thy footprints fair 
 I'd follow thee." Christ answers prayer. 
 243
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AXD 
 
 The tempter oft, with wily toil, 
 Seeks thee, my soul, as precious spoil ; 
 His weapons never lose their edge, 
 But thou art Heaven's peculiar pledge. 
 Though Satan rage, thy Lord is there- 
 Dear soul, betake thyself to prayer.
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 WITH LEVEL EYES 
 
 "I HAD never realized my mother as an in- 
 dividual," said a grown daughter, "until she 
 came to visit our college at commencement. To 
 me she had always been just 'mother' the dear- 
 est, best, most tender and considerate of moth- 
 ers ; but I never compared her with any one, or 
 saw her as she was to others, or thought of her as 
 a noble woman, able to hold her own anywhere, 
 till I looked at her away from her own back- 
 ground. At last I saw her with level eyes, and I 
 was proud of my mother." 
 
 To the mother it comes almost with a shock, 
 that her daughter, the little girl whom she 
 cradled in her arms, whose little frocks she sat 
 up at night to finish, whose goings to and fro 
 she ordained, who was hers to rule and to guide, 
 has become a personality, herself grown up. 
 When the daughter abides in the household, 
 slipping by unmarked stages from childhood 
 
 into youth, from youth into maturity, the older 
 17 245
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 woman often fails to notice that the younger has 
 emerged from the period of pupilage and re- 
 straint, and too long holds fast to the reins of 
 authority which should not be held over one 
 whose responsibilities are those of the adult 
 human being. We often meet undeveloped 
 daughters even in this period of assertive 
 womanhood; daughters who dwell in their 
 fathers' houses with little freedom of action, 
 with no private purse, and with the coercion of 
 child life, long after the sweetness and the de- 
 pendence of childish days are over. 
 
 I have known women whose faces bore tell- 
 tale lines of discontent, whose brown hair began 
 to show threads of silver, and who chafed under 
 their lack of personal freedom, yet felt entirely 
 helpless to change the aspect of affairs. Their 
 mothers had never discovered that the children 
 were grown up. They still exacted the peculiar 
 deference and obedience due from a child under 
 tutors and governors to those who bore rule over 
 him or her. A daughter might be forty, but she 
 could not go on a visit, or buy a new gown, or 
 join a class or a club, or do anything, small or 
 great, without asking and obtaining her moth- 
 er's consent. 
 
 246
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 At a glance one sees how limiting and dwarf- 
 ing such a condition must be. Of necessity, and 
 for love's sake, daughters must always be defer- 
 ential to mothers, but there comes a day when 
 they must stand on their own feet and answer 
 for their own actions. Married, they at once 
 take this independent place in the world ; so that 
 a bride of eighteen may have more actual free- 
 dom than a spinster of thirty. But when a 
 woman is grown up, whether single or married, 
 she is entitled to the privileges of her age. And 
 if parents are, wise, and can possibly afford it, 
 they will secure to the daughter at home, not 
 self-supporting and living under their roof, 
 enough money regularly given, as an allowance, 
 to keep her from feeling like a mendicant or a 
 pauper. If they cannot do this, and the daugh- 
 ter desires it, they should interpose no objection 
 to her going out from home to engage in what- 
 ever employment she is best fitted for or for 
 which she can most readily receive training. 
 
 When our daughters front us "with level 
 eyes" something beyond motherhood and child- 
 hood enters into the relation. A higher friend- 
 ship, a fuller sympathy, a dearer bond may come 
 with the years, and, being possible, should cer- 
 
 247
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AXD 
 
 tainly come to pass in great sweetness and 
 strength. 
 
 We live in a period of which a certain marked 
 unrest on the part of our young women is a sig- 
 nificant feature. Girlhood has been said by a 
 thoughtful observer to be not altogether a happy 
 time of life, though it is so happy-looking. To 
 whatever cause it may be due, economic or other- 
 wise, whether owing to the richer intellectual 
 culture or to the growing independence of the 
 eex, or the greater need of money and the mul- 
 tiplied doors of occupation in professional and 
 business life swinging open at a woman's touch, 
 the fact is patent that home no longer attracts 
 CUT girls as it once did. They are apt to look 
 farther afield for their work. Many of them are 
 eager to try their powers in the market-place; 
 many of them have aspirations and ambitions 
 which domesticity does not wholly satisfy. 
 
 Our girls are not to be blamed for this con- 
 dition of things, which is perhaps only a tem- 
 porary phase and the sign of a transitional 
 epoch. But I would ask the educated and ear- 
 nest young woman of the day to weigh carefully 
 the opportunities, privileges and obligations 
 
 which the home and family offer, before she de- 
 248
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 tides that there is a worthier sphere than this 
 for the Christian woman. I believe profoundly 
 that a happy marriage is the most blessed state 
 into which woman can be called. I regard 
 honored motherhood as the most queenly posi- 
 tion in the earth to-day. If a good man loves a 
 girl, and she consents to marry him, she will 
 enter, however poor the two may be, however 
 they may have to struggle, on a career far more 
 useful and satisfying than any open to her as a 
 wage-earner or a worker. Let the Christian 
 woman illustrate in her home life the beauty of 
 holiness. 
 
 The mother has the first beginnings of life, 
 the molding and the guiding of childhood. The 
 Christian mother can hardly help bringing her 
 little ones to Christ. 
 
 Daughters and sisters should show loving at- 
 tention to father and brothers in the home, and 
 there comes a day when mothers are tired, or 
 perhaps ill, and they, too, need sorely the tender 
 and patient ministry of the young lives which 
 but lately were dependent on their care. To 
 Christian daughters I would say, "Be loving 
 and sweet to your mothers." 
 
 The other day, as I sat by my window, I was 
 249
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 the observer of a little incident which set in 
 motion the train of thought reaching from my 
 quiet home to you, wherever you are. I live on 
 a street which has a smooth asphalt pavement 
 greatly in favor with wheelmen and women, and 
 there are few hours between morning and bed- 
 time when ycung people are not flying up and 
 down its lengths on their magical machines. 
 
 A very pretty girl came sweeping along, man- 
 aging her bicycle with the graceful ease of a con- 
 fident and skillful rider. Her face was glowing 
 with health, her dress was most becoming, and 
 her whole air was that of one accustomed to the 
 courtesies of polite society, and used, on her own 
 part, to much gentleness and consideration. 
 Yet, when another girl, evidently a novice, 
 Bwerved awkwardly and narrowly escaped col- 
 liding with her, the pretty young woman shocked 
 and amazed the observer in the shadow of 
 the curtains by exclaiming, angrily, "Great 
 Scott! I wish you would look where you are 
 going!" 
 
 There was a bit of wholly unconscious revela- 
 tion of character. I saw that my beautiful 
 maiden was not like the King's daughter, "all 
 
 glorious within." She had caught, perhaps from 
 250
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 a schoolboy brother, the trick of slang ; she was 
 impatient, she was hasty of speech and temper, 
 and she failed to make allowance for the inex- 
 perience of another. I was saddened, and I 
 wished with my whole heart that the young girl 
 could realize how unfortunate for herself was 
 the frame of mind and the habit of petulance 
 which had made possible her impetuous remon- 
 strance. Life may discipline her by greater 
 trials than the clumsy blunder of a fellow trav- 
 eler on the road, and by and by she may learn to 
 repress the vehement word of irritation. But 
 what I long for, when I think of her, and of 
 thousands like her, is that they may not feel the 
 impulse to hasty vexation with the errors or 
 even with the carelessness of others. It is a 
 noble thing so to live that the face, manner, 
 voice, and what the Bible aptly terms "walk and 
 conversation," are the expressions of inward 
 poise, serenity and sweetness. 
 
 "Such a one does not love her sister," said a 
 friend not long ago, coming from a home where 
 an invalid had been lying at death's door for 
 weeks. 
 
 "Why do you think so?" was the inquiry, a 
 
 very natural one in the circumstances. 
 251
 
 CEIEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 "I notice," the reply came slowly, "that she 
 has nothing to say of Jean's sufferings, or of 
 Jean's marvelous patience and fortitude; that 
 she is only impressed with Jean's occasional f or- 
 getf ulness to thank her for a kindness, and that 
 she dwells mainly on her own fatigue, and the 
 number of invitations she has had to decline 
 owing to this ill-timed illness on Jean's part. 
 Love suffereth long, and is kind ; love vaunteth 
 not itself, is not easily provoked ; therefore, love 
 would lead the sister who is well to take a dif- 
 ferent tone about the sister who is laid aside on 
 a bed of pain." 
 
 "She would disclaim any lack of affection," 
 said the other ; "and there is the excuse for her, 
 too, that she has had a long strain, and is tired." 
 
 "That last I grant ; nevertheless, whether she 
 is or is not aware of it, she is not in love with 
 Jean. The revelation on her part is entirely 
 unconscious ; but it is a plain revelation." 
 
 Perhaps you have often heard people say that 
 what one is is of more consequence than what 
 one does, and you have fancied the saying rather 
 trite. It is, however, profoundly true. One who 
 goes on his way living the Christ-life, brave, 
 
 honest, fearless, unselfish and magnanimous, 
 252
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 wins others to the Christ because he shows forth 
 the spirit of the Master. One who has not kept 
 his soul a spotless chamber for the indwelling 
 Christ will constantly reveal, when he does not 
 dream it, the insincerity of his professions. We 
 must be good if we would do good. We must 
 reveal ourselves in a thousand ways, whether we 
 mean to or not; and if Christ be in us, as the 
 
 lamp that guides, we shall reveal Christ. 
 253
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTEE XXYI 
 YOUNG WOMEN AND SELF-SUPPORT 
 
 ALL thoughtful observers must be aware of a 
 significant change in the point of view as regards 
 the relations of young women to the everyday 
 world. In my girlhood it was not customary for 
 the daughters of well-to-do men to engage in 
 work outside the doors of their homes. A man 
 took it for granted that his boys should study 
 for a profession, acquire a trade, or enter upon 
 business life. "John Smith & Sons" was in the 
 anticipated order of things. There is an old and 
 well-known house on Broadway, New York, to- 
 day, of which the style is "John So-and-So, Sons 
 & Sons." This is really a survival of what 
 was formerly the almost invariable routine. A 
 man did not expect his girls to become bread- 
 winners while he was alive to earn their bread, 
 and people would have been rather shocked in 
 that conservative time at the idea of Mary's be- 
 coming a reporter, Charlotte a saleswoman, Ma- 
 tilda a nurse, Eebecca a visiting housekeeper. 
 
 The young ladies helped their mother at home, 
 254
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 did a good deal of nursing when any one was ill, 
 were kind and neighborly, made their own 
 frocks on occasion, shopped, visited, were shel- 
 tered, protected, and regarded as ornaments to 
 the family circle. Sometimes a girl taught; 
 once in a while one wrote and had poems and 
 stories published, but rather under the rose. It 
 was not a thing to be bruited about in common 
 talk, nor proclaimed from the housetops. Gen- 
 erally girls married in the later teens, or the 
 early twenties, and one who did not marry be- 
 fore twenty-six was, poor child, called rather 
 pityingly an old maid, and had a sort of nimbus 
 of commiseration around her head until she was 
 forty, when her spinsterhood was taken as a mat- 
 ter of course, and, unless she wedded a widower 
 with a large family of growing children, she be- 
 came the unofficial aunt at large of the whole 
 community. 
 
 We used to hear of failures in business which 
 were openly attributed to the extravagance of 
 Brown's wife and daughters. Poor man ! he had 
 to pay for their dresses and diamonds, their car- 
 riage and horses, and he went under. Have yon 
 noticed that one does not often hear such a mis- 
 fortune in these days thus accounted for? A 
 255
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 man comes to wreck in the business world of 
 this period because of too little capital, or too 
 much expansion, or too great competition, or 
 too entire trust in the honesty of others; not 
 because he has a train of women tugging at his 
 heels and clamoring for gewgaws and furbelows. 
 The point of view has entirely changed. 
 
 It was once a very common thing to be told 
 that a man had remained a bachelor for the 
 reason accepted as a valid one by his friends 
 and society that he had sisters whom he must 
 support. Poor Dennis could not afford to choose 
 a wife there were Charlotte and Clarrissa who 
 were unmarried, and for them he must provide 
 life's bread and butter every day and life's pot 
 of honey when he could. And people thought 
 this as it should be. A man, of course, was 
 bound to provide for his female relatives. That 
 they should be sent out to battle with the world 
 did not accord with conventional ideas of pro- 
 priety. 
 
 The Civil War, among its other upheavals, 
 brought about the first radical change in this 
 state of things. So many men died in battle or 
 in hospital, so many men came home crippled or 
 
 permanently disabled, that women, thrust from 
 256
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 the nest, were forced to enter fields hitherto pre- 
 empted by men. Widows and orphans found 
 that clerkships could be filled by them as by their 
 husbands, fathers and brothers in the past. A 
 study of statistics shows how sweeping and re- 
 markable and rapid a change in the labor market 
 was due to the Civil War. 
 
 Then, closely following this epoch, came the 
 beginning of what we loosely call the higher 
 education of women. The entrance of women 
 on the business world speedily made evident the 
 fact that a different sort of training was needed 
 from that given in the excellent academies and 
 schools from which refined, sweet and capable 
 women had hitherto emerged. Colleges for 
 women must exist, with curriculums as com- 
 prehensive and examinations as rigid as those 
 belonging to colleges for men. 
 
 The second generation of women graduates 
 will soon be fairly launched upon our country 
 and ready to take a hand in its affairs. Our 
 girls of to-day, whether their fathers be rich or 
 poor, are, almost universally, eagerly reaching 
 forward to careers. They scorn dependence. 
 Far from accepting what parents are often anx- 
 ious to give, many girls are restless and unhappy 
 257
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 unless or until they can secure a place where 
 they may test their powers, show their mettle, 
 and earn and keep a foothold for themselves. 
 
 One cannot but at times regret that the pen- 
 dulum has swung so very far in the other direc- 
 tion, so that to-day comparatively few young 
 women, let their circumstances be easy or the 
 reverse, are contented to settle down and become 
 that beautiful and attractive personage, the 
 daughter of the home. One feels a certain sym- 
 pathy with fathers and mothers growing old, 
 and longing for the companionship of youth in 
 the family, when one observes how very gener- 
 ally the girl, leaving school and college, finds the 
 domestic routine wearisome, and looks about 
 her for any outside work which may come to her 
 hand. "I have no need to support myself, and 
 no special talent for one thing more than an- 
 other," said a girl the other day, "but I simply 
 cannot go back to the little dead and alive village 
 where I spent my childhood and vegetate there 
 as my mother has done all her life." I cannot 
 but believe that there is something at fault in 
 the education which suffers young women to 
 keep in lines so narrow, which allows them to be 
 
 so franklv self-considerate, and which fails to 
 
 258
 
 TEUSTFUL TOMORROWS 
 
 show them that there is nowhere in the land the 
 sphere so obscure and so limited that a Christian 
 woman may not there let her light shine. 
 
 The army of poor girls, girls who must earn 
 their living or be paupers, is so large, and its 
 needs are so imperative, that rich girls, by whom 
 I mean all girls who have no necessity to be self- 
 supporting, should think most seriously before 
 they increase the pressure on the labor market. 
 This remark applies particularly to such girls 
 as the one whose declaration I have just quoted ; 
 for genius is a law unto itself, and a recognized 
 vocation should be respected, if it be for science, 
 art, or any department of human effort. Phi- 
 lanthropy has so many openings for well-to-do 
 girls. Broadly speaking, however, rich girls 
 should not crowd their poorer sisters to the wall 
 unless they are very sure that the highest duty 
 requires it ; a call higher than caprice or the de- 
 eire to be independent, the real call of duty, 
 "stern daughter of the voice of God." 
 
 The old complaint that men are more highly 
 paid than women for services of the same char- 
 acter is largely modified in our period. The 
 labor organizations have protective legislation 
 
 for women on this very subject, and the profes- 
 259
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 sional woman, if able and successful, is paid for 
 her work according to its value, and no discount 
 is made for sex. The vast volume of women 
 pressing into stenography and typewriting, 
 and into shops, may help to cut down the general 
 rate of salaries, hut there is not now the unfair 
 discrimination in favor of men which was once a 
 crying evil. One poorly-paid profession, that of 
 teaching, never estimated at its true worth when 
 the matter is of salary, still holds to old stand- 
 ards, and a man devoting his time and talents 
 to teaching receives more money at the end of 
 his term than a woman can command for equal 
 service rendered. But the conditions of the 
 lahor market are much more just, so far as 
 women are in concern, than they used to he. 
 Also, the standard is higher, and a woman is 
 more rigidly held to the best possible work than 
 in the past. 
 
 Our self-supporting girls are, in the cities, 
 learning to create households of their own; a 
 half dozen artists, journalists, students of music 
 or business women combine their means, rent a 
 small apartment, secure an elder sister or a 
 mother as their chaperone, engage a maid, and 
 
 live BO cosily and charmingly that the thought 
 260
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 of marriage and a home of their individual own 
 is much less attractive than it might be if they 
 lived solitary lives in uncomfortable boarding 
 houses. This is, perhaps, not to be regretted; 
 since marriage, for any reason except the com- 
 pelling reason of sincere and uncalculating love, 
 is very undesirable and something less than 
 sacred, and should not be entered upon by 
 woman or man. Still, one notes, as indicative 
 of the temper of the hour, a growing indifference 
 to marriage on the part of our educated young 
 people. 
 
 When the march begins in the morning, 
 And the heart and the foot are light ; 
 
 When the flags are all a-flutter, 
 And the world is gay and bright ; 
 
 When the bugles lead the column, 
 
 And the drums are proud in the van, 
 It's shoulder to shoulder, forward, march ! 
 
 Ah ! let him lag who can ! 
 
 For it's easy to march to music 
 
 With your comrades all in line, 
 And you don't get tired, you feel inspired, 
 
 And life is a draught divine. 
 
 When the march drags on at evening 
 
 And the color-bearer's gone ; 
 When the merry strains are silent 
 
 That piped so brave in the dawn ; 
 18 261
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 When you miss the dear old fellows 
 
 Who started out with you ; 
 When it's stubborn and sturdy, forward, march ! 
 
 Though the ragged lines are few ; 
 
 Then it's hard to march in silence, 
 And the road has lonesome grown, 
 
 And life is a bitter cup to drink, 
 But the soldier must not moan. 
 
 And this is the task before us, 
 
 A task we may never shirk ; 
 In the gay time and the sorrowful time 
 
 We must march and do our work. 
 
 We must march when the music cheers us, 
 March when the strains are dumb, 
 
 Plucky and valiant, forward, march ! 
 And smile, whatever may come. 
 
 For, whether life's hard or easy, 
 
 The strong man keeps the pace ; 
 For the desolate march and the silent 
 
 The strong soul finds the grace. 
 262
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 COUNTING THE BLESSINGS 
 
 BECAUSE our griefs and cares loom large upon 
 the horizon of our life they are apt to overcloud 
 our sky and cover our pathway with darkness. 
 It is a good plan when tempted to depression to 
 count our blessings. Even the griefs may be 
 blessings in disguise, since 
 
 "God moves in a mysterious way 
 
 His wonders to perform, 
 He plants his footsteps in the sea 
 
 And rides upon the storm ;" 
 
 but there are obvious sunshiny, beautiful and 
 glad experiences in our days which we cannot 
 but enumerate if, with fair and candid minds, 
 we look at their tenor and think of the good hand 
 of our God. 
 
 First, there are the blessings which accom- 
 pany our ordinary health. For many reasons 
 the average rate of health in most communities 
 ia higher than it formerly was. People under- 
 stand that there are hygienic laws to be fol- 
 263
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 lowed; that sleep, and food, and exercise, com- 
 fortable clothing and ventilation have their 
 place in keeping men and women well. We 
 often sin against the hody, by overwork or by 
 over indulgence, and nature makes her reprisals, 
 but if we treat the body with the right degree 
 of respect and with common sense we may usu- 
 ally be free from illness. Health means ability 
 to do our work, it means an even disposition, it 
 means nerves sheathed against pain and weari- 
 ness; it implies strength in reserve, so that we 
 do not always draw upon our balance but have 
 something left over for an emergency. Surely 
 among our chief mercies we should include 
 health, with its attendant grace of serenity, its 
 capacity for enjoyment and its basis for enthu- 
 siasm. 
 
 Among everyday blessings we may next men- 
 tion our homes. What joy to turn one's own 
 latch-key at night. What pleasure in laying the 
 tired head on one's own pillow. I never see the 
 crowds of toilers going home after a hard day's 
 work without a pleasant thought of the many 
 little household fires, the children's tumultuous 
 rush to meet their father, the mother's sweet 
 
 face smiling in the background. "Be it ever so 
 264
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 humble there's no place like home." It may be 
 two rooms, it may be a log cabin, it may "be a 
 sumptuous mansion ; the accident of broad acres 
 or a tiny back yard, of splendor or of poverty, 
 does not affect the home. That is made by the 
 dwellers under the roof ; by the love, the gentle- 
 ness, the sweet converse, the common aims and 
 interests of the family. Bless God for home 
 and a loving greeting may well be our constant 
 prayer. 
 
 In every city there are a great multitude of 
 homeless persons, not tramps, nor beggars, but 
 young men who pay for board and lodging, spin- 
 sters who have no one closely belonging to them, 
 units who stand alone, solitary who are not in 
 families. The church, the Sunday school, in the 
 great Methodist household of faith the Epworth 
 League, in other denominations the Christian 
 Endeavor Society, or perhaps some beneficent 
 brotherhood or guild, tries to give these lonely 
 ones the substitute for home. The Young Men's 
 and Young Women's Christian Associations 
 wisely and bravely do what they can. But every 
 single Christian home should at times open its 
 doors to the unhomed, asking them to the fire- 
 side and the board, bringing them into the 
 265
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 charmed circle, and thus arming them against 
 temptation, and providing them with a share in 
 the home's blessings. 
 
 Another mercy is opportunity. Be it of what 
 order it may it is one of God's greatest gifts. 
 None are without it. Some have it offered in 
 larger measure than others. Whatever the op- 
 portunity may be it is God's open door for you 
 into which you may enter; so count it among 
 your blessings. 
 
 Still another source of joy in life comes to 
 us in our children, in our watching their de- 
 velopment, in our hope for their future. And 
 our kindred beyond the immediate household, 
 our friends, our neighbors we cannot omit 
 them from any enumeration of our blessings. 
 
 Perhaps we do not often stop to count our 
 church privileges as among our closest joys and 
 our greatest occasions for gratitude. Back of 
 our place in the world's arena is the closet into 
 which we retreat for strength, and our closet is 
 our Holy of Holies : but there is the little prayer- 
 circle, and the larger prayer-meeting, and the 
 assembly of God's people, and the word spoken 
 by the preacher all as the wind in the sails that 
 
 sends the vessel onward. There are the summer 
 2GG
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 gatherings of the saints yearning for a deeper 
 spiritual life; there are the meetings in the win- 
 ter when we pray unitedly for revival, and lo ! 
 from the heart of heaven comes the kindling 
 flame and our souls are burned free from their 
 worldly dross and seven times refined. In sad 
 case is that Christian disciple, in woeful case 
 that Christian congregation, that has no desire 
 to be revived and seeks not the fanning and the 
 winnowing of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 To leave out of our list of blessings the daily 
 strife with untoward events, the daily pressure 
 of the uncongenial, would be to doubt God's wis- 
 dom and goodness. "Who art thou," says Car- 
 lyle, "that complainest of thy life of toil ? Com- 
 plain not. Complain not. Look up, my wearied 
 brother, see thy fellow Workmen there, in God's 
 Eternity ; surviving there, they alone surviving : 
 sacred Band of the Immortals, celestial Body- 
 guard of the Empire of Mankind. ... To 
 thee, Heaven, though severe, is not unkind. 
 Heaven is kind as a noble mother; as that 
 Spartan mother, saying, while she gave her son 
 his shield, 'With it, my son, or upon it !' Thou 
 too shalt return home in honor to thy far- 
 distant home in honor ; doubt it not if in the 
 267
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 battle thou keep thy shield. . . . Complain 
 not!" 
 
 This strikes a high note. A higher yet they 
 strike who not only refrain from complaint but 
 accept with thankfulness and glad acquiescence 
 in the blessed will of God every single incident, 
 every single companion, every single experience 
 which God sends on the journey ; counting each 
 in its degree a blessing. 
 
 Says Faber, and we can never quote him too 
 often : 
 
 "My heart swells within me in thankfulest joy 
 For the faith "frhich to me thou hast given ; 
 
 For in all thine amazing abundance of gifts 
 Thou hast no better gift short of heaven. 
 
 "There was darkness in Egypt while Israel had sun, 
 And the songs in the cornfields of Goshen were gay ; 
 
 And the chosen that dwelt 'mid the heathen moved on 
 Each threading the gloom with his own private day. 
 
 "Ah ! so is it now with the church of thy choice ; 
 
 Her lands lie in light which to worldlings seems dim ; 
 And each child of that church who must live in dark 
 realms 
 
 Has a sun o'er his head which is only for him." 
 
 Among our daily blessings should we not 
 dwell lovingly upon every little bit of work 
 which we are permitted to do for our Lord? 
 
 On this busy Monday, when the housewife has 
 268
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 her somewhat unusual burdens, she may drop a 
 word to the maid in the kitchen which may 
 brighten the day for the maid. The lady going 
 about her shopping may invite the saleswoman 
 behind the counter to attend a gospel meeting 
 in the evening ; may promise to be there herself 
 with a sisterly welcome. To each of us, not alone 
 to the ministers ordained and set apart, but to 
 each of us who has joined the company of the 
 Master is a ministry of grace appointed; and 
 it is our crown of rejoicing that we may find 
 the place for it wherever we go. It may be at 
 home, it may be on a journey, it may be on the 
 steamer crossing the ocean, it may be in the con- 
 veyance, car or boat, which takes one from house 
 to office, it may be on the farm wherever you 
 are, and Christ is, and there is a third person yet 
 to be brought to Christ there is a blessed op- 
 portunity for service. 
 
 Best and dearest blessing of all is ours when 
 we can comprehend even a little of the great love 
 of our Lord, and for a little time lose ourselves 
 in adoration of him. 
 
 "When Jesus went from Bethany 
 
 Joy bloomed before him like the May. 
 
 The beauty and the mystery 
 
 Of something heavenly brimmed the day." 
 269
 
 CHEERPUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 When Jesns comes to any earthly home the light 
 as of the Father's face enters there and abides. 
 When Jesus goes forth the light remains, for the 
 beloved goes forth too, and walks with the Mas- 
 ter all the day long, and at night the Master 
 returns and sups with his disciple. Who shall 
 
 measure such divine blessedness ? 
 270
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 LOOKING UNTO JESUS 
 
 THERE are many roads to the house of good 
 cheer roads of congenial associations, of pleas- 
 ant employments, of joy in attainments, and of 
 happy endeavors. But the road which is 
 straightest and surest is the road at the entrance 
 of which is inscribed "Looking unto Jesus." 
 They who look unto their Lord as the flower 
 turns to the sun cannot lose the way to ease of 
 mind and hope of heart, to cheerful to-days and 
 trustful to-morrows. Safe with Jesus is their 
 past, serene in Jesus is their present, secure in 
 Jesus is their future. Forever, thus looking 
 and waiting, they renew their strength. They 
 may be old, they may be suffering, they may be 
 in prison, they may be nigh unto death, but 
 conditions matter not; the disciples, looking 
 unto Jesus, see his face smiling on them and 
 nothing can detract from their courage. 
 
 "Jesus, my Love, my chief deligbt, 
 For thee I long, for thee I pray, 
 
 Amid the shadows of the night, 
 Amid the burdens of the day." 
 271
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Rapt in the ecstasy of adoration, what trial or 
 trouble can weigh the Christian down ? Do we 
 look unto Jesus in worship, as we ought? Is 
 our earliest waking thought of his goodness and 
 his beauty? Do we dwell on his grace, remem- 
 bering him as the chiefest among ten thousand 
 and altogether lovely? It was said of Robert 
 McCheyne, of Dundee, Scotland, that he so com- 
 muned with Jesus that his prayers and his ser- 
 mons dripped with the perfume of his love, and 
 that he so enjoyed that love-letter of the Old 
 Testament, the Song of Solomon, that he had 
 found texts for discourses in its every chapter. 
 
 Ah, friends, our heart's longing, our heart's 
 cry should be for Jesus, so that our looking unto 
 him might be always in worshipful adoration. 
 
 "My soul amid this stormy world 
 
 Is like some fluttered dove, 
 And fain would be as swift of wing 
 
 To flee to him I love." 
 
 Our looking unto Jesus too must be that we 
 may receive his orders and be quick to obey 
 them. To one who saw him through the rifted 
 skies, one arrested on his way to commit a great 
 crime against the saints, Christ revealed him- 
 self in a glimpse of fire, and from that moment 
 272
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 Paul's looking was merged in an earnest, rever- 
 ent petition : "Lord, what wilt thou have me to 
 do ?" We know how delightful is the home life 
 where each wills to do the other's will, and God's 
 will is triumphant over all. Any life which 
 looks up constantly to Christ, in entire submis- 
 sion and joyful desire to hear and obey, must be 
 full of cheer, and equally so must any home thus 
 keyed to perfect harmony be a place of blessed- 
 ness. 
 
 We need to examine ourselves to discover 
 whether we are making any reservation in our 
 yielding to the will of the Master. We are some- 
 times reluctant to engage in a plain duty because 
 our taking part in it will render us conspicuous, 
 or lest we shall be charged with inconsistency by 
 those whom we meet. Looking unto Jesus, there 
 should be no withholding of anything we have, 
 no withdrawal of anything we are, when our 
 Captain bids us advance; there should be no 
 regretting thought or fretfulness when he tells 
 us to stay where we are and be for a time inac- 
 tive. There are those whom he seems to lay for 
 a while on the shelf ; if this be his will, we must 
 find our joy and our reward in thus awaiting his 
 
 pleasure. 
 
 273
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 We may look unto Jesus from the desk, from 
 the army post, from the tent, from the anvil. 
 Surely our looking should be so evident that 
 those around us will recognize us for children 
 of the King. "I sat by a man for ten years," 
 said one, "we did our work side by side, but I 
 never dreamed that he was a Christian." The 
 man may have had a similar absence of impres- 
 sion concerning the speaker. 
 
 In politics men are not slow to show the side 
 they take. Why should they be less awake to the 
 need of showing their colors when their relation 
 to Christ is involved; in speech or in silence, 
 shall not the truly earnest and sincere man find 
 out a way to show where he stands ? 
 
 Looking unto Jesus will keep us from being 
 difficult to live with. Good people not a few 
 are over sensitive, are easily hurt, are irritable 
 about trifles. The remedy for the fretfulnes3 
 which so often degenerates into morbidness is 
 found in continual looking unto Jesus. 
 
 In a partnership of complete affection the 
 subconscious habit is one of resting upon and 
 referring to the ceaseless love which each heart 
 feels sure of; it is not with effort or with study 
 
 that husband turns to wife or wife to husband 
 274
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 in the sweet intercourse of daily life and love. 
 There is no jarring note, the melody is un- 
 broken. 
 
 Our Lord himself has compared to marriage, 
 the closest of earthly friendships, the bond 
 which unites his church to him. The looking 
 unto him of the Christian may become auto- 
 matic, like breathing; it may never be inter- 
 rupted; it may lift every day and hour into a 
 mystic loveliness, such as floods the sunset sky 
 when the gold and amber and opal of the "West- 
 ern horizon surpass in splendor the colors ever 
 seen on any palette under the heavens them- 
 selves. 
 
 "Who shall separate us from the love of 
 Christ?" They who know its inner sweetness, 
 its strength, and its amazing tenderness, know 
 that, whatever else breaks, that cable will hold 
 forever. 
 
 "O Jesus, Jesus, dearest Lord, 
 
 Forgive me if I say, 
 For very love, thy sacred name 
 
 A thousand times a day. 
 
 "For thou to me art all in all, 
 
 My honor and my wealth, 
 My heart's desire, my body's strength, 
 
 My soul's eternal health. 
 275
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 'Burn, burn, O Love ! within my heart, 
 
 Burn fiercely night and day, 
 Till all the dross of earthly loves 
 
 Is burned and burned away. 
 
 "O Jesus ! Jesus ! sweetest Lord, 
 
 What art Thou not to me? 
 Each hour brings joy before unknown ; 
 
 Each day new liberty." 
 276
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX 
 THE SUNNY HEART 
 
 WE have many gray days in our winters, but 
 on the whole the days of clearest sunshine far 
 outnumber them. I heard a dear woman thank 
 God the other day for having sent a bright 
 afternoon for a meeting, and I thought how 
 right that was, and how often we omitted to 
 praise him for good weather. With the shep- 
 herd of Salisbury Plain, we ought to be grate- 
 ful for whatever weather comes, and when we 
 reach that point of acquiescent praise we shall 
 have sunny skies in the soul. 
 
 "Do you find it possible," said my friend 
 Eleanora, "to be anything but perfunctory in 
 your keeping of Thanksgiving? What does it 
 amount to in your life ?" This was just before 
 a Thanksgiving Day. 
 
 "I hope, dear," I answered, "that I am mak- 
 ing every day a day of giving thanks. I am 
 sometimes overwhelmed when I begin to count 
 up my mercies ; they are so many, for the bright 
 
 days so far exceed the dark ones, that I cannot 
 
 " 19 277
 
 CHEEEFUL TO-DAYS A 
 
 help having a song in my heart all the time. 
 But when Thanksgiving Day returns it always 
 brings its own proper observance with it that 
 is, if one is patriotic ; and, too, if one believes in 
 God." 
 
 Eleanora mused awhile. "I'm not sure that 
 I am patriotic," she said. "I want those poor 
 men -of ours to come home safely from the 
 Philippines, and I want peace to prevail on 
 land and sea, and I don't wish to see the rich so 
 very rich nor the poor so very poor, and I'm 
 sure that saloons are rampageous, and that the 
 Sabbath is profaned, and for me the times 
 are out of joint. ISTo, I am not really thankful." 
 
 "I suppose we may all find points to criti- 
 cise in the management of public affairs, and 
 features in our social economy to regret ; but we 
 have not the responsibility of ordering nor of 
 carrying on the routine of this great nation, 
 and therefore it is not worth while for us to be 
 pessimistic or fault-finding. And just at this 
 moment people are striving earnestly to put 
 down intemperance, and, as never before, busi- 
 ness is making a strong fight against it. A 
 drinking man cannot hold ,a place on a railroad, 
 
 nor in a factory, nor anywhere in which his 
 
 278
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOSROWS 
 
 habit of life can endanger other people's lives 
 or menace valuable property. This one fact, 
 if there were no other, is a mighty weapon, of 
 attack upon the saloon. 
 
 "The remedy for our violation of the Sabbath 
 will be found in a deepening of the spiritual 
 life of individuals and in a quickening of the 
 personal conscience. There is at the moment a 
 wide spreading effort for revival, and all over 
 our country, in groups and prayer circles and 
 meetings, Christians are seeking the presence 
 and power of the Lord. Once the Holy Spirit 
 descends again in the church there will be a 
 toning up of public sentiment on the Sabbath 
 question and the world will respect the wish 
 and follow the lead of God's people about ob- 
 serving God's day. I think we should thank 
 God especially, this year, for the signs of prom- 
 ise in the sky." 
 
 This was a very long speech, and Eleanora rose 
 when I had finished it, took her leave and went 
 away. I was doubtful whether my monologue 
 had done her any good. It at least set me to 
 thinking quite seriously, and I began to go over 
 in my own mind certain reasons for being very 
 
 thankful in this good year of our Lord. 
 279
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Among positive occasions for gratitude at 
 present our magnificent harvests come easily 
 first. Never has there been a more tremendous 
 yield of wheat and corn to reward the farmer. 
 America may feed the world from her gran- 
 aries if she choose. Our vineyards have been 
 purple and black and white and ruby and am- 
 ber with grapes which have been refreshing to 
 the palate and beautiful to the eye. The vines 
 have been weighted with the luscious store, the 
 clusters have been exquisite. Nature has sur- 
 passed herself, and in lavish bounty has spread 
 every board. Think of her oats, her rye, her 
 pears, her cherries, her plums. And as for 
 apples, in their choice varieties, in their fra- 
 grant ripeness, in their splendid colorings and 
 multitudinous array the year has been one of 
 exceeding wealth. Seek-no-furthers, Baldwins, 
 pippins, greenings their names are on the 
 orchard catalogue and their golden or ruby 
 globes are in our bins and cellars. What would 
 the housekeeper do without apples? What 
 would the country boy do if he had no apples 
 for his school luncheon or his evening feast? 
 Pies, and preserves and jellies, and many a 
 
 toothsome puff and pudding owe their sweet- 
 280
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 ness to the apple, and 1899 wears as one of its 
 peculiar jewels the glory of being an apple year. 
 For fruit of the tree, of the hush, and the vine, 
 let us give thanks. 
 
 Looking over the last twelve months accidents 
 and horrors and calamities have been compara- 
 tively few, and dreadful crimes have been less 
 frequent than usual. Also labor and capital 
 seem better to have understood one another and 
 the friction between them has been minimized. 
 Taking it all in all, we have passed through a 
 year of great internal tranquillity, of much 
 general prosperity, and of notably good times. 
 Shall we not therefore thank God and take 
 courage? The Lord who has brought us thus 
 far on our way will surely carry us through. 
 
 When we come to the reckoning of personal 
 reasons for thanksgiving every heart and every 
 home must keep tally of its own delights. For 
 health and strength, for the dear one's conva- 
 lescence, for the pleasant outing, for the happy 
 times among ourselves, for the new baby, for 
 the lengthened life of honored old people, for 
 the success of the son at college or in business, 
 for our ships that have come safe home from 
 
 long and perilous voyages on the tempestuous 
 281
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AXD 
 
 sea, for our neighbors and friends, we must 
 praise and thank the good Lord. 
 
 For any new sight of the Master's face 
 vouchsafed to us in the retirement of the closet, 
 for help and stimulus which have come to us 
 when we have read our Bible or heard a sermon, 
 for any song in the night, we should not fail to 
 render our thanks. In a world full of unknown 
 possibilities, we are like children rocked in the 
 cradle and crooned over by the mother, so good 
 is our Lord to us every hour. 
 
 "We may have some negative reasons for 
 thanksgiving too; in that things have been no 
 worse: always a legitimate cause for praise. 
 That we have had no Dreyfus case to shame us 
 in this nation must be enumerated among our 
 reasons for grateful memory. We who have 
 small boys may be glad that they are not of tener 
 brought home to us maimed from the football 
 field, and thankful that most of their wounds 
 are so soon and so easily healed. 
 
 In all seriousness, friends, should we not take 
 pains to cultivate a continual habit of thank- 
 fulness? This would help to make us opti- 
 mistic ; we should not go about with long faces 
 
 nor look too much on the dark side. The good 
 282
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 hand of our God is upon us, saving us from 
 dangers seen and unseen; let us therefore take 
 the cup of thanksgiving and call upon his name. 
 
 Our prayers are too often narrowed down to 
 a mere asking for what we want, a mere peti- 
 tioning for favors at the throne. The soul rises 
 into a purer ether and knows a dearer joy when 
 prayer is largely composed of gratitude, when 
 we are lifted up in contemplation to heights of 
 a divine and restful calm. 
 
 A good exercise for you and for me just now 
 might be with pencil and paper to set down, 
 in orderly sequence, where we can plainly see 
 them, our private reasons for heing thankful 
 to an overruling Providence. Then when 
 Thanksgiving Day dawns let us go to church in 
 the good old way to acknowledge national bless- 
 ings, mercies to the commonwealth. 
 
 Our dinner table will be happiest if we gather 
 about it the whole clan, our kith and kin, from 
 the silver-haired grandsire to the baby in the 
 high chair, and the viands will taste the sweeter 
 if we have sent a portion to the widow around 
 the corner, to the ragged little newsboy, to the 
 out-at-elbow9 tramp tempted for once by fire 
 
 and food to enter a beneficent mission. Do not 
 283
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 let us forget the college settlement, nor the in- 
 dustrial homes, the orphanage, nor any other 
 charity on Thanksgiving Day. Even the pris- 
 oner behind the barred gates and stone walls 
 should on this day have a gleam of friendly 
 sympathy and loving charity thrown across his 
 hard and bitter pathway. 
 
 If possible, let the home gathering be very 
 complete when the Thanksgiving gala day re- 
 turns. This is an American custom which 
 should not fall into desuetude. 
 
 Good Dr. Cuyler, writing of Christian ex- 
 perience, exclaims: 
 
 "In the depths of a devout, loyal, praying and 
 trustful heart Christ kindles a glow that cannot 
 be drowned by pains of sickness, or storms of 
 adversity, or even by the tears of bereavement. 
 One of the most sunny Christians I ever knew 
 was racked with the tortures of a rheumatism 
 that had distorted every limb. In the darkest 
 hours Jesus can give triumphant 'songs in the 
 night.' When Dr. Horace Bushnell was writing 
 a letter of consolation to a brother who had met 
 with a severe bereavement he said, 'Soften your 
 grief by much thanksgiving.' Gratitude for 
 
 what Jesus has done for us sinners, for what he 
 284
 
 TEUSTFUL TO-JMORBOWS 
 
 gives us every day, for what he has laid up in 
 store for us in heaven, and for the solid assur- 
 ance that we shall meet our loved ones there 
 such gratitude can pour its rays into our hearts 
 and put a new song into our mouths. 
 
 "Is it possible for all of us who claim to be 
 Christ's followers to live steadily in the bright 
 sunshine of Christ's love ? It must be possible ; 
 for the Master never bids us do what we cannot 
 perform or be what we cannot become. Sinless 
 perfection may not be attainable in this world, 
 or unalloyed happiness. But there is one thing 
 which all of Christ's redeemed people can do, 
 and that is to keep themselves in the atmosphere 
 of his love. 'Abide ye in my love/ It is our 
 fault and our shame that we spend so many days 
 in the chilling fogs or under the heavy clouds 
 of unbelief, or in the bleak atmosphere of con- 
 formity to the world." 
 
 Tauler wrote tersely, by way of admonition: 
 "Think not that God will always be caressing 
 his children, or shine upon their head, or kindle 
 their hearts, as he does at the first. He does 
 so only to lure us to himself, as the falconer 
 lures the falcon with its gay hood. Our Lord 
 
 works with his children so as to teach them 
 285
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 afterwards to work themselves; as he bade 
 Moses to make the tables of stone after the 
 pattern of the first, which he had made himself. 
 Thus, after a time, God allows man to depend 
 upon himself, and no longer enlightens, and 
 stimulates, and rouses him. We must stir up 
 and rouse ourselves, and be content to leave off 
 learning, and no more enjoy feeling and fire, 
 and must now serve the Lord with strenuous 
 industry and at our own cost. Our Lord acts 
 as a prudent father, who, while his children are 
 young, lets them live at his cost, and manages 
 everything for them. What is needful for them 
 he provides, and lets them go and play ; and so 
 long as this lasts they are at leisure, free from 
 care, happy, and generous at their father's ex- 
 pense. Afterwards he gives a portion of his 
 estate into their own hands, because he will 
 have them to take care of themselves and earn 
 their own living, to leave off childish play, and 
 thus learn how to grow rich." 
 
 We may at least refrain from ever expressing 
 dissatisfaction with God's dealings and discon- 
 tent with our circumstances. By the time to- 
 morrow reaches us to-day's discomfort will have 
 
 fled. Each day bears only its own burden, and 
 ~
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 every burden is bound together and labeled, 
 "By the will of God." Are we depending for 
 our joy, not on our earthly environment, but 
 on that which hour by hour the Lord bestows ? 
 Then shall we ever despond ? Shall we not al- 
 ways wear the brightness of heaven on our faces 
 and in our hearts ? Let us constantly pray : 
 
 "Drop Thy sweet dews of quietness 
 
 Till all our strivings cease ; 
 Take from our souls the strain and stress 
 And let our ordered lives confess 
 
 The beauty of Thy peace." 
 287
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTEE XXX 
 BEYOND THE HORIZON'S Em 
 
 ONE of these days it will all be over, 
 
 Sorrow and laughter, loss and gain, 
 Meetings and partings of friend and lover, 
 
 Joy that was often tinged with pain. 
 One of these days will our hands be folded, 
 
 One of these days will the work be done, 
 Finished the pattern our lives have molded, 
 
 Ended our labor beneath the sun. 
 
 One of these days will the heartache leave us, 
 
 One of these days will the burden drop ; 
 Never again shall a hope deceive us, 
 
 Never again shall our progress stop. 
 Freed from the blight of the vain endeavor, 
 
 Winged with the health of immortal life, 
 One of these days we shall quit forever 
 
 All that is vexing in earthly strife. 
 
 One of these days we shall know the reason, 
 
 Haply, of much that perplexes now ; 
 One of these days, in the Lord's good season, 
 
 Light of his peace shall adorn the brow. 
 Blessfed, though out of tribulation, 
 
 Lifted to dwell in his sun-bright smile, 
 Happy to share the great salvation, 
 
 Can we not patiently tarry awhile? 
 
 The eye which gazes beyond the horizon's 
 
 rim and expects the hour when the day shall 
 
 288
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 break in the new life above may grow weary, 
 but it will not grow discouraged. For we walk 
 by the starlight of the promises as well as by the 
 sunshine of daily mercies. We need never fear. 
 One who knows our infirmities is always at our 
 side. 
 
 The pleasure of good company is with us, too, 
 on the road home. True, there remaineth much 
 land to be possessed. Millions of our fellow 
 beings are yet in the darkness of heathenism. 
 
 The false gods are not yet overthrown nor are 
 the idols utterly abolished. But we may help 
 send the Gospel, and we shall gain a blessing if 
 we do so in the spirit of the little East-end 
 London girl who wanted to do her share : 
 
 It was only a silver sixpence, 
 
 Battered and worn and old. 
 But worth to the child that held it 
 
 As much as a piece of gold. 
 
 A poor little crossing-sweeper, 
 
 In the wind and rain all day 
 For one who gave her a penny 
 
 There were twenty who bade her nay. 
 
 But sh carried the bit of silver 
 
 A light in her steady face, 
 And her step on the crowded pavement 
 
 Full of a childish grace 
 
 289
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Straight to the tender pastor ; 
 
 And "Send it," she said, "for me, 
 Dear sir, to the heathen children 
 
 On the other side of the sea, 
 
 "Let it help in telling the story 
 Of the love of the Lord most high, 
 
 Who came from the world of glory 
 For a sinful world to die." 
 
 "Send only half of it, Maggie," 
 
 The good old minister said, 
 "And keep the rest for yourself, dear ; 
 
 You need it for daily bread." 
 
 "Ah, sir," was the ready answer, 
 
 In the blessed Bible words, 
 "I would rather lend it to Jesus : 
 
 For the silver and gold are the Lord's, 
 
 "And the copper will do for Maggie." 
 
 I think, if we all felt so, 
 The wonderful message of pardon 
 
 Would soon through the dark earth go. 
 
 Soon should the distant mountains 
 
 And the far-off isles of the sea 
 Hear of the great salvation 
 .And the truth that makes men free. 
 
 Alas ! do we not too often 
 
 Keep our silver and gold in store, 
 
 And grudgingly part with our copper, 
 Counting the pennies o'er, 
 
 And claiming in vain the blessing, 
 That the Master gave to one 
 
 Who dropped her mites as the treasure 
 A whole day'a toil had won? 
 290
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOEEOWS 
 
 A toil-worn returned missionary was address- 
 ing a group of women the other day, and she 
 said, with the sound of tears in her voice, "Oh, 
 you would love to help the Lord's work on if 
 you knew about it." The trouble too often is, 
 friends, that we do not know. We look at our 
 own garden gate, not at the rim of the sky 
 where disappears the ship which bears along the 
 foreign missionaries going on their errands of 
 love. ISTot all of us are to blame for this indif- 
 ference. Our city households do, some of them 
 at least, keep in touch with Ceylon, India, 
 China, and our workers there. Very frequently 
 one discovers in country homes, remote from 
 the railroad, a great deal of good periodical 
 literature. Especially are some of these house- 
 holds well informed as to foreign and home 
 missions. Inquiring of a busy house mistress, 
 whose home had been filled with summer 
 boarders from June until September, when she 
 found time to read all her books and magazines, 
 the answer came promptly, "I read up in the 
 long winter evenings. My family is small then, 
 and I have plenty of time; I just save every- 
 thing till then, and I go through my pile from 
 
 first to last." Certainly there is no lack either 
 291
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 of interest or of information in and about the 
 Lord's work on the part of these busy, hard- 
 working, but most intelligent women. 
 
 It is by reading and by attending meetings of 
 prayer for missions that we get to know about 
 and to love them and their various phases of 
 effort. There are the preaching, the visiting, 
 the teaching, the translating, the comforting 
 ministrations to mind and body, which compose 
 the several sorts of work at a mission station. 
 Are we praying for all, aiding all, giving to all ? 
 Some days are brighter to us than others be- 
 cause we may say at nightfall, 
 God gave me something very sweet to be mine own 
 
 this day 
 
 A precious opportunity a word for Christ to say ; 
 A soul that my desire might reach ; a work to do for 
 
 him ; 
 And now I thank him for this grace, ere yet the light 
 
 grows dim. 
 
 No service that he sends me on can be so welcome aye : 
 To guide a pilgrim's weary feet within the narrow 
 
 way; 
 To share the loving Shepherd's quest, and so, by brake 
 
 and fen, 
 To find for him his wandering lambs, the erring sons 
 
 of men. 
 
 I did not seek this blessed thing; it came a rare sur- 
 prise, 
 
 Flooding my heart with dearest joy, as, lifting wistful 
 eyes, 
 
 292
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 Heaven's light upon a dear one's face shone plain and 
 
 clear on mine ; 
 And there an unseen third, I felt,' was waiting One 
 
 divine. 
 
 So in this twilight hour I kneel, and pour my grateful 
 
 thought 
 In song and prayer to Jesus for the gifts this day hath 
 
 brought. 
 Sure never service is so sweet, nor life hath so much 
 
 zest, 
 As when he bids me speak for him, and then he does 
 
 the rest. 
 
 I may be mistaken, but as I have gone about 
 the world it has seemed to me that the happiest 
 and most gracious family life has existed where 
 the family looked ever beyond the horizon's rim, 
 and lived as united by a common bond in Christ. 
 We cannot but be sweet and gentle if we are imi- 
 tators of him who "pleased not himself." We 
 cannot but be happy if we have a common aim, 
 a .common interest, higher than mere worldli- 
 ness and money making, and the habit of con- 
 stant reference of every little and large thing to 
 the Lord as the arbiter of our lives ; yet, gazing 
 heavenward, we are for the present held fast by 
 cords of might to the earth wherein we dwell, 
 and it is worth our while to consider our ways 
 
 in the household. 
 
 20 293
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 Our manners in the family are very apt to be 
 the sincere expressions, as they are the uncon- 
 scious revelations, of our prevailing and dom- 
 inant states of mind. Character is indicated 
 by the tricks of speech and of gesture, the tones 
 of voice, the politeness or the rudeness of daily 
 deportment, and by a hundred small things 
 which are automatic; things of which we take 
 no note, perhaps of which we are quite unaware. 
 Just as an habitually gentle and controlled per- 
 Bon has a quiet and serene face, and as a tem- 
 pestuous and unrestrained nature writes its 
 record on the countenance, so the manners of 
 a family set it apart as well bred or the reverse, 
 and the family air stamps each individual of 
 the clan. 
 
 Why do people residing under the same roof 
 gain a certain resemblance? Originally, it 
 may be, their features were cast in different 
 molds; they started in being unlike, but time, 
 and familiarity, and an incessant process of 
 unconscious imitation, has brought about a 
 marked similarity, so that the loving husband 
 and wife actually look alike, with a subtler and 
 more spiritual likeness than the mere surface 
 
 resemblance of kinship. 
 
 294
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 When the overwrought and overtired mother 
 scolds her fractious child, allowing her fretful- 
 ness to sharpen her accents and speaking with 
 the stormy emphasis of anger, she does not 
 mean permanently to influence her little one's 
 manner, but she is doing so nevertheless. The 
 child grows querulous, reflecting the nervous 
 susceptibility to strain which makes the mother 
 unamiable. Placidity, serenity, a tranquil calm 
 of strength and sweetness in combination, seem 
 to have vanished from many homes wherein 
 people are hurried and worried, distraught and 
 care-laden. 
 
 Our manners may help to control our minds. 
 So subtle is the connection between body and 
 spirit, whenever we can absolutely require of the 
 former perfect repose, the repression of im- 
 patient movements and of irritated speech, the 
 spirit gains time to conquer itself and finds its 
 lost poise. To go alone, sit perfectly still and 
 refuse to allow even so much as a frown or a 
 pucker upon one's face, to do this when circum- 
 stances are peculiarly trying or when one is 
 aware that weariness will presently degenerate 
 to crossness, may save one from a humiliating 
 
 outbreak, and add permanently to the stock of 
 295
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 self-control which we all need as capital for 
 life. 
 
 Family manners, apart from the relations of 
 parents and children, which imply a reciprocal 
 consideration, are apt to suffer from too much 
 candor. We speak with great plainness in the 
 circle of our own kindred; we comment too 
 freely on foibles ; we express the contrary opin- 
 ion too readily and with too little courtesy. A 
 slight infusion of formality never harms social 
 intercourse, either in the family or elsewhere. 
 
 Beyond this too common mistake of an over- 
 bluntness and brusque freedom in the manners 
 of a household, in some of our homes there is a 
 greater fault even a lack of demonstration* 
 There is the deepest, sincerest love in the home, 
 the brothers and sisters would cheerfully die for 
 one another if so great a sacrifice were de- 
 manded, but the love is ice-locked behind a bar- 
 rier of reserve. Caresses are infrequent, words 
 of affection are seldom spoken. It may be 
 urged with truth and some show of reason that 
 in the very homes where this absence of demon- 
 stration is most marked there is complete 
 mutual understanding, and no possibility of 
 
 doubt or misgiving, and, so far as it goes, this is 
 296
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 well. But often young hearts long unspeak- 
 ably for some gentle sign of love's presence 
 the lingering touch of a tender hand on the 
 head, the good-night kiss, the word of praise, 
 the recognition of affection. Older hearts, too, 
 are sometimes empty, and many of us, younger 
 and older, are kept on short rations all our lives, 
 when our right, on our Father's road to our 
 Father's house, is to be fed with the finest of 
 the wheat, and enough of it; just as those who 
 ate manna in the wilderness had always an en- 
 tire provision, not a stinted supply. 
 
 Another suggestion which should not be over- 
 looked is the importance of politeness to the 
 little ones. To snub a small laddie needlessly, 
 to order a child about on errands here and there 
 instead of civilly preferring a request as one 
 does to an older person, in each case is an in- 
 vasion of the rights of childhood. The child to 
 whom everybody practices politeness will in 
 turn be himself ready to oblige and agreeable 
 in manner, for the stamp of the family is as 
 plainly to be seen on us every one as the stamp 
 of the mint on the coin, and it is as indelible for 
 time and why not, also, for eternity ? 
 
 A child sometimes slips away from our grasp 
 297
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 all in a moment. The sweet young daughter of 
 the house was going to school, week before last. 
 Yesterday, after a very brief illness, she was 
 not, for God had taken her. The baby went to 
 bed well, but croup came in the night and a 
 mother's arms are empty. Oh, the deep grief 
 over tiny graves, the scalding tears that blind us 
 when we look at vacant chairs ! While they are 
 with us let us do all we can to make our dar- 
 lings happy ; while they remain let our tones be 
 sweet, our acts unselfish, our love unstinted. 
 When God calls them let us have no remorse 
 which might have been avoided, but let us not 
 refuse consolation, for, 
 
 They never quite leave us, our friends who have passed 
 Through the shadow of death to the sunlight above ; 
 A thousand sweet memories are holding them fast 
 To the places they bless with their presence and love. 
 
 The work which they left and the books which they 
 
 read 
 
 Speak mutely, though still with an eloquence rare ; 
 And the songs that they sung, and dear words they 
 
 said, 
 Yet linger and sigh on the desolate air. 
 
 And oft when alone, and as oft in the throng, 
 Or when evil allures us or sin draweth nigh, 
 A whisper comes gently, "Nay, do not the wrong," 
 And we feel that our weakness is pitied on high. 
 298
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 In the dew-threaded morn and the opaline eve, 
 
 When the children are merry or crimsoned with sleep, 
 
 We are comforted, even as lonely we grieve, 
 
 For the thoughts of their rapture forbids us to weep. 
 
 We toil at our tasks in the burden and heat 
 Of life's passionate noon : they are folded in peace. 
 It is well. We rejoice that their heaven is sweet, 
 And one day for us will all bitterness cease. 
 
 We, too, will go home o'er the river of rest, 
 As the strong and the lovely before us have gone ; 
 Our sun will go down in the beautiful west 
 To rise in the' glory that circles the throne. 
 
 Until then we are bound by our love and our faith 
 
 To the saints who are walking in Paradise fair. 
 
 They have passed beyond sight, at the touching of 
 
 death, 
 But they live, like ourselves, in God's infinite care. 
 
 WARNING 
 
 In the time of our fullness and thrift, 
 Ere the time of our loss and our dole, 
 
 Let the angels who guard us uplift 
 A warning to every soul. 
 
 Oh ! heed it and hear it, lest all unaware 
 
 We waken some day to the gloom of despair. 
 
 We shall never be sorry for love ; 
 
 For the words that are patient and sweet ; 
 For the hardness repressed, 
 For the anger unguessed, 
 
 For the grace that is swift to entreat. 
 299
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 We shall never be sorry for hope 
 That heartened the weak and the tried, 
 
 That made them the bolder to cope 
 With the evil one, close to their side ; 
 
 For the pity we've shown 
 
 To the souls that alone 
 Were stemming some fierce, rushing tide. 
 
 We shall never be sorry for care 
 To the old or the little ones given ; 
 
 Nor ever regret the swift'prayer 
 That went to our Father in heaven 
 
 For meekness and cheer 
 
 When the outlook was drear, 
 For faith when our courage was riven. 
 
 In the time of our fullness and thrift, 
 Ere the time of our dole and our loss, 
 
 Let the angels who guard us uplift 
 A voice against cleaving to dross ; 
 
 Let us hear it and heed it, lest all unaware 
 
 We waken some day to the gloom of despair. 
 300
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 THE HABIT OF HOLDING ON 
 
 AMONG excellent wearing habits, in this age 
 of haste and competition, we should set a high 
 value on that of holding on. Having decided 
 on a course of action, looked at it from every 
 point of view, and taken stock of ourselves and 
 of the situation, we should first kneel down alone 
 in our closets, or with our families if the matter 
 concern them, and ask God's blessing. Let the 
 errand be what it may, the disciple does not go 
 forward without the Master's assurance that 
 he is with him. Xext, we should begin with 
 earnestness, zeal, and discretion; enthusiasm 
 held in check by wisdom and knowledge. Last, 
 we should hold on. 
 
 The world highly values success, especially 
 the success which is apparent. In no walk of 
 life is success attainable by the man or the 
 woman who has not acquired persistence, the 
 art of holding on. In the inspired page of 
 
 Eevelation the promise is, over and over, made 
 301
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 of reward to "him that overcometh." Over- 
 coming is holding on. 
 
 We see children full of the zest of beginning. 
 The first chapter of the new book, the first week 
 at the new school, the opening tasks of the new 
 term, fill them with eager delight. It is the 
 /Za/i of the novel enterprise which excites and 
 stimulates them to effort. So in Leagues, and 
 Endeavor societies of every variety, there is 
 apt to be great ardor at the outset. The testing 
 time arrives when the year has reached its 
 middle period, when the attraction of novelty 
 has waned, when what is needed is not an en- 
 thusiastic start, but steady staying power. 
 Blessings on those young people who have the 
 good habit of holding on; who do not dread 
 the quiet performance of obscure duties; who 
 can march on even when the music in advance 
 is temporarily silent. 
 
 Our greatest sailors and soldiers, our most 
 eminent statesmen, our most renowned mission- 
 aries, our scholars famed for research and ac- 
 curacy, have had the habit of holding on. 
 
 You are perhaps very near the foot of the 
 ladder to-day, and to climb high will mean a 
 
 struggle full of pluck and of dogged determina- 
 302
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 tion. Remember that God has given yon a 
 foothold, and that he now expects yon valiantly 
 to fight for yourself. Lose no advantage, never 
 shirk a hard task, be courteous, be obliging, be 
 unselfish; but through every opposition, and 
 even in the face of disaster and disappointment, 
 hold on in your way. 
 
 It is a fine thing to make defeat your step- 
 ping stone to victory. 
 
 Thsre are failures which God sends and God 
 plans, and which are in his sight far more 
 radiant than any human success. There are 
 those carried wounded to the rear, or dropped 
 out of the procession, whom God honors with 
 his "Well done, good and faithful servant!" 
 But of these it may be said without hesitation 
 that they possessed the habit of holding on to 
 what seemed to them right ; that they did their 
 duty manfully, and rounded out their day's 
 work, more anxious about the work than about 
 the wages. 
 
 I would warn those who would enjoy cheerful 
 to-days and inherit trustful to-morrows against 
 being over solicitous for the success which is 
 estimated in money. Ours is a commercial age, 
 
 and we are apt, because it is in the air about us, 
 303
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 to admire too highly the acquisition of wealth. 
 As a means to an end, and that end the service 
 of God and the elevation of man, wealth is de- 
 sirable. For all else, the words of the wise man 
 remain eternally judicious, "Give me neither 
 poverty nor riches." The middle course is the 
 happy course. Work done for mercenary rea- 
 sons .alone is never the highest and the best 
 work. "Give us the glory of going on," sings 
 the poet. 
 
 To hold on as the scientific student does in 
 the laboratory, that he may gain knowledge 
 along lines which will alleviate suffering and 
 mitigate disease, to hold on as the general does 
 when the campaign is a long one and the odds 
 are against him, to hold on as the mother does 
 through the years when her little ones are in the 
 crib and the nursery, to hold on as the pastor 
 does in his quiet round of loving ministry, 
 studying, toiling, striving, comforting thus to 
 hold on is to win and keep the divine favor. 
 
 Thus holding on, we may 
 
 "Look up and not down; 
 Look forward and not back; 
 Look out and not in ; and 
 
 Lend a hand." 
 304
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOBBOWS 
 
 Away back in the second book of Chronicles 
 we are told of the good King Hezekiah, that 
 "he wrought that which was good and right and 
 faithful before the Lord his God. And in every 
 work that he began in the service of the house of 
 God, and in the law, and in the commandments, 
 to seek his God, he did it with all his heart, and 
 prospered." 
 
 King Hezekiah had mastered the art of hold- 
 ing on. 
 
 305
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 ONE WORD MORE FOR ' OUR GIRLS 
 
 To many a girl the abandonment of her hope 
 to attend college is the greatest disappointment 
 of her young life. Her mother needs her at 
 home, or her father thinks she has had a suf- 
 ficient amount of school discipline, or there is 
 not money enough to make a college education 
 practicable for some reason or other the step 
 cannot be taken; and the young woman is 
 obliged to make her plans along different lines 
 from those which she had intended. In the 
 case of one exceptionally gifted girl, very dear 
 to me in later years, her mother's death throw- 
 ing upon the brave young shoulders the care and 
 oversight of a family of small brothers and sis- 
 ters made college impossible. She could not be 
 spared from the desolate home, where she 
 speedily became the sister-mother and the 
 homemaker and housekeeper. 
 
 Another young woman, prepared for college 
 
 and anxious to go because of a genuine enthu- 
 306
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MOBBOWS 
 
 siasm for learning, was compelled at twenty 
 years of age to resign her ambition lest she 
 should use means which were required for the 
 education of younger children. Twelve years 
 later this woman, who had bided her time, never 
 complaining, never querulous, invariably pa- 
 tient, cheerful and bright, was enabled to fulfill 
 her desire and she is in college now; resolutely 
 taking up the old tools and studying happily 
 among her juniors, with whom she is a great 
 favorite. And no wonder: at heart she is as 
 young as the youngest. 
 
 I have found it my greatest comfort, girls, in 
 every situation to say to myself, "This is God's 
 appointment for me, and it therefore must be 
 right." When we accept God's will as best it is 
 a pillow under the head than which nothing 
 could be softer and more peaceful. If it is for 
 our advantage to go or to stay we do not know, 
 but God knows; and all our days are arranged 
 for us according to his plan. 
 
 Supposing, therefore, that college is out of 
 the question, what hinders a bright, keen-witted 
 girl from making the very best of her time and 
 talents at home ? She may take up a Chautau- 
 
 qua course, or a course prescribed by the Ep- 
 307
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 worth League, and her reading may be definite 
 and systematic, not haphazard and occasional. 
 She will see for herself that while the news- 
 paper keeps one informed as to current events, 
 and well-selected fiction pleases the imagina- 
 tion, yet neither the newspaper nor the novel 
 can alone give a woman a cultivated mind or 
 discipline her intellect. If she is wise, and in 
 earnest, she will set herself to a resolute and 
 persistent and thorough study of some branch 
 of science or some period of history. One girl 
 found it feasible to follow her brother's college 
 course at home, and she took up in her own 
 room, and without the spur of emulation or the 
 assistance of a tutor, everything that he did 
 Latin, Greek, French, philosophy and mathe- 
 matics slighting nothing, and keeping pace 
 with him to the end; the only difference then 
 being that he had a diploma and she had none. 
 All the substantial good of college training be- 
 longed to her as well as to him. 
 
 Many girls have not the leisure for so much 
 consecutive work as was here gone over. Do 
 not despair on that account. A half hour de- 
 voted to study every day, without a break, will 
 
 give results at the end of the year which will be 
 308
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 simply surprising. I have seen a young woman 
 occupied in a factory in New York, toiling early 
 and late and having no place at home to study, 
 who, availing herself of the reading room of a 
 working girl's club, has made herself familiar 
 with English history from the earliest days un- 
 til the Victorian era. ^Everything against her, 
 but courage and will and a love of books carry- 
 ing her splendidly forward ! 
 
 Avail yourself of the lecture courses open to 
 you, near your home, and ask your friends who 
 have gone farther than yourself for a little en- 
 lightenment when you reach a difficult place. 
 Libraries and books of reference may be found 
 in most towns ; if you have none in your neigh- 
 borhood your pastor will probably be willing 
 to lend you books or to guide you in their pur- 
 chase. Little by little add to your stock of 
 literature, buying only after careful thought as 
 to whether you are sure you need the book on 
 which your desire has been fixed. A dictionary 
 and an encyclopedia are immeasurably valuable 
 to a student who is not near a library. 
 
 By the daily practice of reading good books, 
 and by seeking the friendship of refined and 
 intelligent men and women, you will gain an 
 21 309
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 appreciation of literature and of scholarship 
 quite equal to that which your friend obtains 
 in her life of the school. Do not suffer yourself 
 to be slipshod and careless as to your vocabulary, 
 to use slang, or to drop into provincialisms. If 
 is true that very well informed persons do use 
 these, but they do not belong to a lady, and they 
 are blots on her manner of expression tattered 
 fringe on an elegant garment. Better be pre- 
 cise and pedantic than heedless of your mother- 
 tongue and ungrammatical in conversation or 
 writing. Remember that there is nothing open 
 to us so educational and so improving on its 
 very lowest plane as regular attendance at a 
 place of worship. Merely always going to 
 church and giving one's attention fully to the 
 preacher, merely dwelling on the themes he 
 touches, largely helps those who must have cul- 
 ture but cannot have college. 
 
 But if one does go, and many of our young 
 women are thus privileged, let her determine to 
 be on the Lord's side from the outset. None 
 of us can stay in utter solitude, without com- 
 radeship, and be happy or entirely useful. That 
 idea of life which implies isolation is not whole- 
 some. It is worth while for us to think a little 
 310
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 about our friends what we do for them and 
 what they do for us. 
 
 Should an entire class assembled in college 
 for the first time be composed altogether of 
 strangers, some from Kansas, some from Ten- 
 nessee, some from Florida, others from Maine, 
 still others from Texas, New York, Ohio and 
 Colorado, with a sprinkling of girls from the 
 Sandwich Islands and Japan, it would not be 
 long before the various young women would 
 shake apart from the mass and settle into 
 groups. These groups would again subdivide 
 into smaller circles, and the circles would finally 
 fall into the partnership of individuals. The 
 closer welding of the intimate friendship of the 
 twos would not interfere with the pleasant min- 
 gling of the threes and fours and sevens, while 
 over all, and uniting all, would be the beautiful 
 and subtle growth and continuance of the class 
 feeling; a sentiment which survives through 
 life and is one of life's most delightful experi- 
 ences. The girl from Texas might find con- 
 genial qualities and similar tastes in the girl 
 from Maine, and the soft-voiced Kentuckian 
 might choose for her dearest confidante a crisp 
 
 and clever young woman from New York. In- 
 311
 
 CIIEERFDL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 evitably each would modify the other and help 
 the other on. 
 
 This is one of the best offices of friendship 
 to be helpful where one can. I never thought 
 very highly of the plan that friends should 
 candidly tell each other of their faults. The 
 office of critic is rather ungracious, and very, 
 very few persons are able to listen without an- 
 noyance to the recital of their defects, as seen 
 by even friendly eyes. As a matter of course a 
 girl expects reproof or suggestion at times from 
 her mother, or her teacher, but she does not care 
 for it from her school or college friends, and, 
 even if she is equally candid in return, the mu- 
 tual inspection is usually fatal to affection. 
 Far better it is to help by example ; by being so 
 true, so straightforward and so unselfish that 
 your friends emulate you. To live with some 
 people is to be lifted to a broader and higher 
 plane and a purer air. In forming our college 
 friendships we are probably entering into pleas- 
 ant bonds which will never be unloosed, and we 
 should try to be so sincerely loving that our 
 friends will receive from us only our best. 
 Most of us make unconscious revelations of our- 
 selves when, we are off guard. Our living 
 312
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 should be of an order so pure and sweet that we 
 would never be afraid of being found out; that 
 we might always be sure that in our most inti- 
 mate moments nothing in us should hurt an- 
 other soul. 
 
 What do we ask of our dear friends? For 
 one thing, entire trust. Girls use many caress- 
 ing phrases and tender names to each other, and 
 there are girls whose natures seem to demand a 
 good deal of demonstration. Now, there is 
 no harm in this, to a certain extent, but the love 
 which can go without much verbal expression 
 is apt to be the more deeply rooted. Jealousy 
 should never be permitted to creep into friend- 
 ship, and a girl should take herself at once to 
 task if she perceives that she is entertaining 
 suspicions of her friend, or is vexed at the com- 
 ing of a third person into the compact. 
 
 We are many-sided beings, and our natures 
 have many needs; a great capacity for loving 
 is a splendid equipment for life. Let us not 
 dwarf and stunt ourselves by selfish narrowness, 
 and above all let us shield our hearts from dis- 
 trust; from readiness to imagine affronts and 
 from that over-sensitiveness which believes that 
 
 our friend could intentionally wound us. 
 313
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 To our friends we should give sympathy; 
 should be interested in their endeavors and am- 
 bitions, should be ready to listen when they 
 have anything to tell and to counsel if they ask 
 advice. The foundation of sympathy is unself- 
 ishness, "a heart at leisure from itself." Sim- 
 ply to be glad with others and sad with others is 
 not enough; we should go farther, and live in 
 our friends' lives. We may not know their 
 people but we should try to care about them, 
 and nothing which even remotely concerns our 
 comrades should seem to us of no moment. 
 Sympathy, trust and common interests will 
 very closely unite those who are thrown to- 
 gether in the contact of daily life through a 
 period of four successive years. 
 
 I cannot conceive of an enduring friendship 
 in which there is in both parties no love to 
 Christ. The disciple of Jesus has something 
 so lovely and dear as a part of her life that she 
 longs to share it. Christ is so much more to 
 her than any earthly friend that aversion to 
 him, or indifference, or hostility, if persevered 
 in, must repel her from anyone, however other- 
 wise attractive. Alienation from him must 
 
 deeply grieve the true disciple. There is no re- 
 314
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 lation so perfect as that of two congenial 
 natures who love the Master and are trying to 
 follow him. Of this I am sure, that the Christ- 
 lover will never rest until she has brought her 
 friend to the blessedness which she knows ; and 
 that, if her friend persistently refuses Christ 
 and turns from him, in the end, and from 
 the operation of a law as relentless as that of 
 gravitation, their friendship will cease. For 
 friendship demands confidence and sympathy 
 and a life in common interests day by day, and 
 these cannot exist in perfection between those 
 who love Christ and those who hate him. 
 
 NEVER Too SOON 
 
 Never too soon? For what, my dear? 
 
 Never too soon to choose the best, 
 And set the mark of your living clear, 
 
 And bring your soul to the highest test 
 
 Never too soon to stand for God, 
 To lift the banner of Christ on high; 
 
 The foe with his legions is all abroad, 
 And his challenging giants are drawing nigh. 
 
 Our girls are interested in deciding on their 
 future employments and callings. Among the 
 newer avocations journalism beckons many, for 
 
 the reason, above others, that it may more read- 
 315
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 ily be entered than law or medicine or teach- 
 ing. The young woman who expects to teach 
 needs very thorough preparation, and, in these 
 days, must if possible specialize. If she wishes 
 to instruct in the higher mathematics, or in art, 
 she will be the better equipped if after receiv- 
 ing her diploma she can secure several years of 
 postgraduate study either at home or abroad. 
 If she is to be a doctor, the medical college ex- 
 acts a regular and severely rigid course of 
 training, and there is no royal road hewed for 
 the feet of the feminine lawyer. She must 
 read grave legal books, and serve a precisely 
 similar apprenticeship to that demanded by the 
 authorities from her brother. 
 
 A young woman must begin as a journalist 
 at the foot of the ladder. She may go into the 
 newspaper arena from the high school. Several, 
 of our most successful women editors have 
 never been to college. Her equipment will be, 
 an outfit of good sense, mental alertness, a 
 talent for pleasing others in selection, obedience 
 to orders, and ability to read, to spell, and to 
 write good clear English. Much familiarity 
 with Latin and Greek does not so surely pre- 
 pare a young woman for successful journalism 
 316
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 as a good working knowledge of forceful every- 
 day English. 
 
 A less ambitious but not less honorable career 
 is open to young women who choose to become 
 the assistants of mothers in bringing up their 
 children. I do not mean by this merely the 
 nursery governess or the governess of older 
 children. The mother assistant is more like 
 an aunt or an elder sister as she fits into the 
 household, and relieves the mother of burdens. 
 We are learning that little children should not 
 he given over into the hands of ignorant and 
 illiterate peasant women from other lands, just 
 in the period when they are most easily im- 
 pressed by companionship with those about 
 them. The office of mother's assistant should 
 be filled by an educated lady, and no college 
 graduate need hesitate to assume it. Also, 
 there are women of large means who are able 
 and willing to pay liberally for such service. 
 
 I hope there are a multitude of girls who, 
 when college days are over, will be willing and 
 happy to remain quietly at home, filling in the 
 chinks there and blessing the lives of their par- 
 ents. In our time, it is almost exceptional to 
 
 find a grown-up daughter who is not reluctant 
 317
 
 CHEERFUL TO-DAYS AND 
 
 to do this ; each longs for a sphere of wider oc- 
 cupation. But to some the Lord may have 
 assigned only the household with its blessed 
 obscurity; only the little lowly place in the 
 vineyard, under his own eye. 
 
 "One thing is needful/' Still we hear him 
 saying this, and if of any one of us he shall say 
 that she hath "chosen the good part/' what 
 more can we desire? To be thorough, to be 
 conscientious, to be diligent and faithful, are 
 the needs of the hour for all women. 
 
 From silken cords of earth's delight, 
 
 From iron chains of care, 
 O set us free when in thy sight, 
 
 Dear Lord, we kneel in prayer. 
 
 Forbid that dreams of ease and cheer, 
 
 Or transient thoughts of pride, 
 Should make a chilling atmosphere 
 
 To drift us from thy side. 
 
 Forgive if moaning discontent 
 
 In unbelief complains ; 
 Forgive if, when our hearts are rent, 
 
 We think but of their pains. 
 
 Still come thyself in darkest hours 
 And cleave the gloom with rays 
 
 So bright that all our grateful powers 
 Shall turn from grief to praise. 
 318
 
 TRUSTFUL TO-MORROWS 
 
 Still consecrate our joyful times 
 
 With bliss beyond compare, 
 While faith the spirit's strength sublimes 
 
 And robes of light we wear. 
 
 Oh, lift us to the better life ! 
 
 The shadows come and go, 
 But where thou art above the strife, 
 
 The winds of heaven blow. 
 319
 
 H50\ 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW. 
 
 Series 9482
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000 988 650 8