"Well, Brother Joyful," said Brother Littlejoy, "you have surely taught me a lesson. If that is the way to get joy and if I can have it as well as anybody, I think I shall try to get my share in the future. But how am I to get rid of all my troubles and worries and heavy burdens?"

"Why," answered Brother Joyful, "you are working the wrong machine; you do not get such things from the Lord."

"What do you mean?" asked Brother Littlejoy.

"Why, Satan has a slot-machine also, and many people are working it overtime. Some good people are working it, but they do not know they are using Satan's machine."

"Please explain yourself," said Brother Littlejoy; "I do not know what you mean."

"It is this way," replied Brother Joyful; "Satan has a great machine, or I might say several different ones, and there are many different things that can be dropped into the slots to make them work. But none of the things that work G.o.d's machine will work Satan's. Now, you have, you say, trouble and gloom and such things. These come from Satan's machine. This is the way it works: You drop some unbelief into the slot, and you get darkness and fear; doubts, and you get gloom and despondency; disobedience, and you get condemnation; fear, and you get weakness; murmuring, and you get discouragement. Oh, there are many things you can get out of Satan's machine; and he is very glad to have you get them. Drop in some cross words, some fretfulness, some self-will, a little pride, a little suspicion of the brethren, a little envy, or anything of that sort, and you will get a large return from Satan.

"Now, as I said, Brother Littlejoy, you have been working the wrong machine, and if you will just think a while, you may be able to tell what you have been putting into the slot to get these things that you would like to be rid of. Perhaps it is a little disobedience or self-will or unbelief. Make a good prayerful search and find out; then stop dropping things into the devil's slot-machine, turn your attention to learning how to operate G.o.d's joy machine, and I am sure you will soon see a gratifying change."

As Brother Littlejoy walked out of the door, he said to himself, "I think Brother Joyful is right; I will begin working the other machine."

TALK FORTY-SIX. BE BRAVE

Be brave. Only the brave are strong. The coward is a weakling; if he has strength, he dares not use it. We must be brave, for life is a battle. The forces of good and evil are in deadly combat. You can not avoid having a part in the conflict. You must fight whether you will to do so or not.

There will be obstacles to meet no matter where your path may lie. You must overcome them or they in turn will overcome you.

Do not dream of a time in this life when all your obstacles will be overcome. There is no day so bright but the darkness follows. There is no ship that sails the sea but must meet the storms. No tree sinks its roots so deeply into the soil but its strength is tested by the gale.

Upon you will blow the piercing winds of adverse circ.u.mstances. Things will come that you can not foresee. Do not shrink before them when they appear. Lift up your head, throw back your shoulders, look them squarely in the face, and with courage born of faith meet them in the strength G.o.d will give you.

Sometimes it may seem that to endure is impossible. Your strength may fail, but when you have come to the end of yourself, G.o.d will add strength, and that added strength will mean victory. Be brave. It is only when you bravely face the foe that you can know the measure of your strength. There can be no defeat to him who will not be defeated.

Circ.u.mstances may prevail against you for a time, but if you fight manfully on, the seeming defeat will end in victory.

Napoleon once fought a battle and lost. His troops were driven back. One of his marshals, who with his troops had not arrived in time for the conflict, came up during the retreat. Napoleon said to him, "We have lost the battle." "It seems so, sire," was the reply, "but there is still time to fight another." Encouraged by the words of his marshal, Napoleon rallied his troops, attacked the enemy, and won a great victory.

If defeated, never count that defeat final. Attack the foe again and keep at it till you win. Bravery is a quality of mind and soul. You may be weak in body, you may be timid and shrinking, but if you will, your soul may rise above all this and wax strong in G.o.d. Courage is the basis of your strength. It will bring strength from G.o.d. But should he give you ever so much strength, only through courage can you make use of it.

TALK FORTY-SEVEN. "BUT JESUS SENT HIM AWAY" (LUKE 8: 38)

How natural it is for us to desire to be in the presence of the Master, to walk with him, to talk with him, and to behold his wondrous works! How pleasant to sit at his feet and learn of him! How often we think of those who enjoyed walking with him over the hills of Judea and wish for ourselves that glorious privilege! It is our privilege, though our natural eyes can not see him, to dwell in his presence, to commune with him, and to learn the deep things of G.o.d. In the secret closet we often seem to be very near to him, and how our souls would love to remain there, but ofttimes, like the man out of whom the devils were cast, we are not permitted to remain with the Lord; he sends us away.

When we feel ourselves apart from him, it is not always because we have wandered away, for often he finds it needful to send us away for some purpose. Even those who were privileged to be his closest companions while on earth were sent away from him from time to time on various missions.

Sometimes he sent them with the message, "Go and tell." Obedience to this took them away from his presence. Their eyes no longer saw his mighty works, nor did their ears hear his gracious words. They did not have the support of his presence, but found themselves apart from the Master. So we must often go out from him with a message, and, being apart from him in a sense, we shall ofttimes find ourselves needy and seeming to go on our own strength; but we must daily bear his message to the people, and while we are bearing it, what wonder if we are lonely sometimes? Like the disciples, however, when we have spoken our message, we may go back again into his presence.

One he sent away for investigation, saying, "Go ... show thyself to the priest." Sometimes we must go out among our enemies and be a gazing-stock for them. We must be the object of their criticism, of their scoffs, of their mockings, and all this apart from the Master. But shall we not bear all these things and rejoice in them, that when we have returned to the Master, and are sitting in the quiet and silence at his feet, holding sweet converse with him, we may know we have wrought his will and glorified his name?

Sometimes he sends us forth to perils. "Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves." But he also gives us the sweet a.s.surance, "Nothing shall by any means hurt you." His messengers now, as in the days of old, must face perils; and these perils must, in a sense, be faced away from the Master's presence.

Sometimes he sends to suffering. He said of Paul, "I will show him how great things he must suffer for my name's sake." Even Christ himself was sent apart from the Father. He had to leave the glories of heaven and all that those meant, sacrifice all the honor that he had, with all his joys in the presence of the Father, and go to earth to be despised, mocked, hated, scourged, and crucified. Sometimes his spirit was heavy, and sorrow weighed him down, and at last, in the most trying hour, he felt his separation from his Father most keenly and cried out, "My G.o.d, my G.o.d, why hast thou forsaken me?" If it was necessary for the Son of G.o.d to go apart from the Father, to be sad and lonely and heavy-hearted, and at last feel himself forsaken, should we think it a strange thing if we sometimes have a similar experience?

How sweet to be with him in the secret closet and in the meetings with his saints! How it warms our hearts and fills us with courage and hope! But for our work's sake we must go apart and endure, sacrifice and suffer. We can not always see his smiling face. But there will be a time when we shall forever be with the Lord. Until the time shall come, let us be willing to obey him, even though it takes all the courage and fort.i.tude we have. If we find ourselves apart from him, let us not accuse ourselves of wandering away, if we are doing the work of G.o.d. Heaven will be all the sweeter because of our having been, in this sense, apart from the Master here, and we shall be the better prepared to enjoy his presence when he comes for us.

TALK FORTY-EIGHT. GETTING THE KERNEL

One afternoon a mother with her children about her knees sat cracking nuts. The older children picked out the kernels for themselves, but the mother stopped now and then to pick out some for the smaller children, who watched with eager eyes and ate the kernels with keen relish. Presently a nut fell to the floor. The smallest child picked it up; and as his mother went on cracking others, he held it up to her and in his baby language asked to have it cracked. He knew that there was something good inside of it. The sh.e.l.l was dry and hard. He might bite on it all he pleased, but the delicious kernel he could not get until the sh.e.l.l was broken.

The Scriptures are just like that nut. If we wish to enjoy their richness and sweetness, we must, so to speak, get them cracked, and thus obtain the kernel, the inner hidden meaning, which will enrich the soul. But many are content to know so little of what is really contained in the Word!

How full of meaning, how rich, how wonderful, is a single expression! One single phrase may contain enough, if you get the "kernel" of it, to make your soul bubble over with joy all day. A single word may give you strength to fight victoriously through a sore conflict. The trouble is, people do not take the time to get an understanding. They are too ready to think that they can not understand. Learn to take a sentence, a clause, or a word, and meditate on it. The more you think of it, the longer you consider it, the richer and fuller it will become. To ill.u.s.trate my meaning I will take a text familiar to all and try to show you what I mean by getting the kernel out. "The Lord is my shepherd." I have often heard people quote this text when I knew it meant little to them. But suppose we study it a little and place emphasis on each part in turn. Every word has its "kernel" of meaning, every word is full of richness and soul-satisfaction, if we can but get it out.

"_The_ Lord"-not just any Lord, for there are "lords many." It signifies one definite, particular Lord; not one of a number of equal lords, but one standing out separate and distinct from all others-the one above all others. This is the Lord who is "my shepherd." When rightly considered, this one little common word as here used contains a world of meaning. We could profitably study it for hours. There is a whole sermon in it.

"The _Lord_ is my shepherd." It is not a man nor even an angel who is my shepherd; it is the _Lord_, the almighty One-he who created all things, who stretched out the heavens, who upholds all by his might; the Lord who speaks and it is done; the Lord who wills and it comes to pa.s.s; the Lord unchangeable, unfailing, glorious in strength, perfect in wisdom and understanding. Baal is not my shepherd, but he who sits upon the throne of the heavens, whose face is as the lightning and whose words are as the rolling thunders, whose love is more tender than a mother's, whose touch is as soft as the kiss of a sunbeam, whose eye is tender with pity, and whose heart is a fount of compa.s.sion-this is the Lord, my shepherd.

"The Lord _is_ my shepherd." Yes, he _is_. There was no questioning with the Psalmist; it was to him a positive reality. He did not doubt it in the least. He was as sure of it as he was of his own existence. But he was not any more sure than we can be. Repeat the text over a few times with strong emphasis on the "_is_." This will help you get the kernel out of it. If you are a little doubtful, keep going over it until the "is" really means _is_ to you.

"The Lord is _my_ shepherd." Yes, he is _my_ shepherd. It is I for whom he is caring. It is I over whom he is watching. It is I who can safely trust him. I may see him looking with favor on others, helping, blessing, and strengthening them, but he is _my_ shepherd, so I may with confidence look for him to give me the same kind of treatment that he gives the other sheep. The shepherd has made promises. He is _my_ shepherd; therefore I belong to him and have all claims upon him that any sheep has.

"The Lord is my _shepherd_." To others he may be a judge, austere and stern. Some see him as a tyrant, some see him as one to be feared, but he is my _shepherd_. Being my shepherd and the "good shepherd," he will care for me. He will care for my safety. He will keep me in his fold from the ravenous beasts; he will protect me. Into pastures green he will lead me.

By the still water I shall rest secure. He is "my shepherd."

This brings out only to a small degree the richness of the text, but it ill.u.s.trates the manner in which we should study the Scriptures if we are to get the "kernel"; but we should carefully avoid every tendency to read into any text what it does not teach. It is all right to read a chapter or a number of chapters; but you will get more soul-food by taking a little and studying it well. Study each word carefully by itself and in relation to the other words of the sentence. Follow this method of study until it becomes a habit, and it will unlock to you rich storehouses of heavenly truth. Your soul will find a feast wherever you go in the Sacred Book.

There is in every scripture a "kernel." Do not be content until you get it out.

TALK FORTY-NINE. TWO SUNSETS

We stood on the brow of the hill gazing out over the valley beneath us. In the distant west the sun sank quietly and serenely toward the horizon. The purpling shadows of the hills grew longer in the valley. The clouds overhead, which scarcely seemed to move, were in broken, fluffy ma.s.ses. As we gazed upon the scene, the sun as a mighty king in stately majesty and resplendent glory sank to his evening repose. The clouds caught the afterglow, looking as if a gigantic brush had swept across the sky scattering gold and orange and crimson and purple. The sun had gone, but the glory of his vanished presence still lingered in the beauty of the clouds.

At the close of another day we stood on the same hill-top. The sun was hanging low. The purpling shadows lengthened in the valley. The sun did not sink in glory tonight, but pa.s.sed out of sight into a bank of dark and threatening clouds. The voices of the day were stilled. A solemn and foreboding hush seemed over all, and our spirits felt the general gloom.

There was no afterglow. There was no resplendent painting of the sky. All was somber and gloomy; nature seemed to await what would come, in expectancy and awe. And as the darkness fell, we saw a gleam of lightning play across the distant cloud.

How like the sunsets of some lives were these two sunsets! In my mind, unfading while I live, are the memories of two life-sunsets. When but seven summers had pa.s.sed over my head, my little sister and I were at a neighbor's two or three miles from home. In the early twilight a horseman came galloping down the road bearing the fateful news that Mother was dying. Quickly placing me behind him on the horse and taking my little sister in his arms, he galloped away through the early night.

When we arrived at home, we found the house filled with neighbors. Upon her bed lay Mother with pallid face. Through the hours of the night we watched by her bedside. About three o'clock in the morning she asked them to sing that old song "Shall We Gather at the River?" With choking voices and tear-dimmed eyes the little band of neighbors sang the song. The eyes of the sufferer gazed stedfastly above. A heavenly light beamed forth from her countenance. A smile of joy was upon her face. Presently she called the sorrowing relatives one by one and bade them a last good-by. I fell upon my knees by her bedside and sobbed out my childish grief. She turned and looked fondly down upon me and, laying her hand upon my head, said, "Charlie, be a good boy and meet me in heaven."