She had been led by a wonderful way, and through long and deep suffering, into far clearer light than I enjoyed, and had witnessed for Christ in more ways than one, and far more brightly than I had ever done. She told me how sorrowfully and eagerly she was seeking Jesus at the time of those singing cla.s.ses. And I never knew it, because I never asked, and she was too shy to speak first! But she told me more, and every word was a pang to me,--how she used to linger in the avenue on those summer evenings, longing that I would speak to her about the Saviour; how she hoped, week after week, that I would just stretch out a hand to help her, just say one little word that might be G.o.d's message of peace to her, instead of the pleasant, general remarks about the nice hymns and tunes. And I never did! And she went on for months, I think for years, after, without the light and gladness which it might have been my privilege to bring to her life. G.o.d chose other means, for the souls that He has given to Christ cannot be lost because of the unfaithfulness of a human instrument. But she said, and the words often ring in my ears when I am tempted to let an opportunity slip, 'Ah, Miss F., I ought to have been _yours!_'

Yes, it is true enough that we should show forth His praise not only with our lips, but in our lives; but with very many Christians the other side of the prayer wants praying--they want rousing up even to _wish_ to show it forth not only in their lives but with their lips. I wonder how many, even of those who read this, really pray, 'O Lord, open Thou _my_ lips, and my mouth shall show forth Thy praise.'

And when opened, oh, how much one _does_ want to have them so kept for Jesus that He may be free to make the most of them, not letting them render second-rate and indirect service when they might be doing direct and first-rate service to His cause and kingdom! It is terrible how much less is done for Him than _might_ be done, in consequence of the specious notion that if what we are doing or saying is not bad, we are doing good in a certain way, and therefore may be quite easy about it. We should think a man rather foolish if he went on doing work which earned five shillings a week, when he might just as well do work in the same establishment and under the same master which would bring him in five pounds a week. But we should p.r.o.nounce him shamefully dishonest and dishonourable if he accepted such handsome wages as the five pounds, and yet chose to do work worth only five shillings, excusing himself by saying that it was work all the same, and somebody had better do it. Do we not act something like this when we take the lower standard, and spend our strength in just making ourselves agreeable and pleasant, creating a general good impression in favour of religion, showing that we can be all things to all men, and that one who is supposed to be a citizen of the other world can be very well up in all that concerns this world? This may be good, but is there nothing better? What does it profit if we do make this favourable impression on an outsider, if we go no farther and do not use the influence gained to bring him right inside the fold, inside the only ark of safety? People are not converted by this sort of work; at any rate, _I_ never met or heard of any one. 'He thinks it better for his quiet influence to tell!' said an affectionately excusing relative of one who had plenty of special opportunities of soul-winning, if he had only used his lips as well as his life for his Master. 'And how many souls have been converted to G.o.d by his "quiet influence" all these years?' was my reply. And to that there was no answer! For the silent shining was all very beautiful in theory, but not one of the many souls placed specially under his influence had been known to be brought out of darkness into marvellous light. If they had, they must have been known, for such light can't help being seen.

When one has even a glimmer of the tremendous difference between having Christ and being without Christ; when one gets but one shuddering glimpse of what eternity is, and of what it must mean, as well as what it may mean, without Christ; when one gets but a flash of realization of the tremendous fact that all these neighbours of ours, rich and poor alike, will _have_ to spend that eternity either with Him or without Him,--it is hard, very hard indeed, to understand how a man or woman can believe these things at all, and make no effort for anything beyond the temporal elevation of those around, sometimes not even beyond their amus.e.m.e.nts!

'People must have entertainment,' they urge. I do not find that _must_ in the Bible, but I do find, 'We _must_ all stand before the judgment-seat of Christ.' And if you have any sort of belief in that, how can you care to use those lips of yours, which might be a fountain of life to the dying souls before you, merely to 'entertain' them at your penny reading or other entertainment? As you sow, so you reap. The amusing paper is read, or the lively ballad recited, or the popular song sung, and you reap your harvest of laughter or applause, and of complacence at your success in 'entertaining' the people. And there it ends, when you might have sown words from which you and they should reap fruit unto life eternal. Is this worthy work for one who has been bought with such a price that he must say,

'Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all'?

So far from yielding 'all' to that rightful demand of amazing love, he does not even yield the fruit of his lips to it, much less the lips themselves. I cannot refrain from adding, that even this lower aim of 'entertaining' is by no means so appreciated as is supposed. As a cottager of no more than average sense and intelligence remarked, 'It was all so _trifling_ at the reading; I wish gentlefolks would believe that poor people like something better than what's just to make them laugh.'

After all, nothing really pays like direct, straightforward, uncompromising words about G.o.d and His works and word. Nothing else ever made a man say, as a poor Irishman did when he heard the Good News for the first time, 'Thank ye, sir; you've taken the hunger off us to-day!'

Jephthah uttered all his words before the Lord; what about ours? Well, they _are_ all uttered before the Lord in one sense, whether we will or no; for there is not a word in my tongue, but lo, Thou, O Lord, knowest it altogether! How solemn is this thought, but how sweet does it become when our words are uttered consciously before the Lord as we walk in the light of His perpetual presence! Oh that we may so walk, that we may so speak, with kept feet and kept lips, trustfully praying, 'Let the meditation of my heart and the words of my mouth be alway acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, my Strength and my Redeemer!'

Bearing in mind that it is not only the words which pa.s.s their lightly-hinged portal, but our literal lips which are to be kept for Jesus, it cannot be out of place, before closing this chapter, to suggest that they open both ways. What pa.s.ses in should surely be considered as well as what pa.s.ses out. And very many of us are beginning to see that the command, 'Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of G.o.d,' is not fully obeyed when we drink, merely because we like it, what is the very greatest obstacle to that glory in this realm of England. What matter that we prefer taking it in a more refined form, if the thing itself is daily and actively and mightily working misery, and crime, and death, and destruction to thousands, till the cry thereof seems as if it must pierce the very heavens! And so it does--sooner, a great deal, than it pierces the walls of our comfortable dining-room! I only say here, you who have said, 'Take my lips,' stop and repeat that prayer next time you put that to your lips which is binding men and women hand and foot, and delivering them over, helpless, to Satan! Let those words pa.s.s once more from your heart _out_ through your lips, and I do not think you will feel comfortable in letting the means of such infernal work pa.s.s _in_ through them.

Chapter VII.

Our Silver and Gold Kept for Jesus.

_'Keep my silver and my gold;_ _Not a mite would I withhold.'_

'The silver and the gold is Mine, saith the Lord of Hosts.' Yes, every coin we have is literally our 'Lord's money.' Simple belief of this fact is the stepping-stone to full consecration of what He has given us, whether much or little.

'Then you mean to say we are never to spend anything on ourselves?' Not so. Another fact must be considered,--the fact that our Lord has given us our bodies as a special personal charge, and that we are responsible for keeping these bodies, according to the means given and the work required, in working order for Him. This is part of our 'own work.' A master entrusts a workman with a delicate machine, with which his appointed work is to be done. He also provides him with a sum of money with which he is to procure all that may be necessary for keeping the machine in thorough repair. Is it not obvious that it is the man's distinct duty to see to this faithfully? Would he not be failing in duty if he chose to spend it all on something for somebody else's work, or on a present for his master, fancying that would please him better, while the machine is creaking and wearing for want of a little oil, or working badly for want of a new band or screw? Just so, we are to spend what is really needful _on_ ourselves, because it is our charge to do so; but not _for_ ourselves, because we are not our own, but our Master's. He who knoweth our frame, knows its needs of rest and medicine, food and clothing; and the procuring of these for our own entrusted bodies should be done just as much 'for Jesus' as the greater pleasure of procuring them for some one else. Therefore there need be no quibbling over the a.s.sertion that consecration is not real and complete while we are looking upon a single shilling as our own to do what we like with. Also the principle is exactly the same, whether we are spending pence or pounds; it is our Lord's money, and must not be spent without reference to Him.

When we have asked Him to take, and continually trust Him to keep our money, 'shopping' becomes a different thing. We look up to our Lord for guidance to lay out His money prudently and rightly, and as He would have us lay it out. The gift or garment is selected consciously under His eye, and with conscious reference to Him as our own dear Master, for whose sake we shall give it, or in whose service we shall wear it, and whose own silver or gold we shall pay for it, and then it is all right.

But have you found out that it is one of the secrets of the Lord, that when any of His dear children turn aside a little bit after having once entered the blessed path of true and conscious consecration, He is sure to send them some little punishment? He will not let us go back without a sharp, even if quite secret, reminder. Go and spend ever such a little without reference to Him after you have once pledged the silver and gold entirely to Him, and see if you are not in some way rebuked for it! Very often by being permitted to find that you have made a mistake in your purchase, or that in some way it does not prosper. If you 'observe these things,' you will find that the more closely we are walking with our Lord, the more immediate and unmistakeable will be His gracious rebukes when we swerve in any detail of the full consecration to which He has called us. And if you have already experienced and recognised this part of His personal dealing with us, you will know also how we love and bless Him for it.

There is always a danger that just because we say 'all,' we may practically fall shorter than if we had only said 'some,' but said it very definitely. G.o.d recognises this, and provides against it in many departments. For instance, though our time is to be 'all' for Him, yet He solemnly sets apart the one day in seven which is to be specially for Him. Those who think they know better than G.o.d, and profess that every day is a Sabbath, little know what floodgates of temptation they are opening by being so very wise above what is written. G.o.d knows best, and that should be quite enough for every loyal heart. So, as to money, though we place it all at our Lord's disposal, and rejoice to spend it all for Him directly or indirectly, yet I am quite certain it is a great help and safeguard, and, what is more, a matter of simple obedience to the spirit of His commands, to set aside a definite and regular proportion of our income or receipts for His direct service. It is a great mistake to suppose that the law of giving the tenth to G.o.d is merely Levitical. 'Search and look' for yourselves, and you will find that it is, like the Sabbath, a far older rule, running all through the Bible,[footnote: See Gen. xiv. 20, xxviii. 22; Lev. xxvii. 30, 32; Num.

xviii. 21; Deut. xiv. 22; 2 Chron. x.x.xi. 5, 6, 12; Neh. x. 37, xii. 44, xiii. 12; Mal. iii. 8, 10; Matt. xxiii. 23; Luke xi. 42; 1 Cor xvi. 2; Heb. vii. 8.] and endorsed, not abrogated, by Christ Himself. For, speaking of t.i.thes, He said, 'These _ought_ ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone.' To dedicate the tenth of whatever we have is mere duty; charity begins beyond it; free-will offerings and thank-offerings beyond that again.

First-fruits, also, should be thus specially set apart. This, too, we find running all through the Bible. There is a tacit appeal to our grat.i.tude in the suggestion of them,--the very word implies bounty received and bounty in prospect. Bringing 'the first of the first-fruits into the house of the Lord thy G.o.d,' was like 'saying grace' for all the plenty He was going to bestow on the faithful Israelite. Something of gladness, too, seems always implied. 'The day of the first-fruits' was to be a day of rejoicing (compare Num. xxviii. 26 with Deut. xvi. 10, 11).

There is also an appeal to loyalty: we are commanded to _honour_ the Lord with the first-fruits of all our increase. And _that_ is the way to prosper, for the next word is, '_So_ shall thy barns be filled with plenty.' The friend who first called my attention to this command, said that the setting apart first-fruits--making a proportion for G.o.d's work a _first charge_ upon the income--always seemed to bring a blessing on the rest, and that since this had been systematically done, it actually seemed to go farther than when not thus lessened.

Presenting our first-fruits should be a peculiarly delightful act, as they are themselves the emblem of our consecrated relationship to G.o.d.

For of His own will begat He us by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of first-fruits of His creatures. How sweet and hallowed and richly emblematic our little acts of obedience in this matter become, when we throw this light upon them! And how blessedly they may remind us of the heavenly company, singing, as it were, a new song before the throne; for they are the first-fruits unto G.o.d and to the Lamb.

Perhaps we shall find no better plan of detailed and systematic setting apart than the New Testament one: 'Upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay by him in store, as G.o.d hath prospered him.' The very act of literally fulfilling this apostolic command seems to bring a blessing with it, as all simple obedience does. I wish, dear friends, you would try it! You will find it a sweet reminder on His own day of this part of your consecration. You will find it an immense help in making the most of your little charities. The regular inflow will guide the outflow, and ensure your always having _something_ for any sudden call for your Master's poor or your Master's cause. Do not say you are 'afraid you could not keep to it.' What has a consecrated life to do with being 'afraid'? Some of us could tell of such sweet and singular lessons of trust in this matter, that they are written in golden letters of love on our memories. Of course there will be trials of our faith in this, as well as in everything else. But every trial of our faith is but a trial of His faithfulness, and is 'much more precious than gold which perisheth.'

'What about self-denial?' some reader will say. Consecration does not supersede this, but transfigures it. Literally, a consecrated life is and must be a life of denial of self. But all the effort and pain of it is changed into very delight. We love our Master; we know, surely and absolutely, that He is listening and watching our every word and way, and that He has called us to the privilege of walking 'worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing.' And in so far as this is a reality to us, the identical things which are still self-_denial_ in one sense, become actual self-_delight_ in another. It may be self-denial to us to turn away from something within reach of our purse which it would be very convenient or pleasant to possess. But if the Master lifted the veil, and revealed Himself standing at our side, and let us hear His audible voice asking us to reserve the price of it for His treasury, should we talk about self-denial then? Should we not be utterly ashamed to think of it?

or rather, should we, for one instant, think about self or self-denial at all? Would it not be an unimaginable joy to do what He asked us to do with that money? But as long as His own unchangeable promise stands written in His word for us, 'Lo, I am with you _alway_,' we may be sure that He _is_ with us, and that His eye is as certainly on our opened or half-opened purse as it was on the treasury, when He sat over against it and saw the two mites cast in. So let us do our shopping 'as seeing Him who is invisible.'

It is important to remember that there is no much or little in G.o.d's sight, except as relatively to our means and willingness. 'For if there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath not.' He knows what we have _not_, as well as what we have. He knows all about the low wages in one sphere, and the small allowance, or the fixed income with rising prices in another. And it is not a question of paying to G.o.d what can be screwed out of these, but of giving Him all, and then holding all at His disposal, and taking His orders about the disposal of all.

But I do not see at all how self-indulgence and needless extravagance can possibly co-exist with true consecration. If we really never do go _without_ anything for the Lord's sake, but, just because He has graciously given us means, always supply for ourselves not only every need but 'every notion,' I think it is high time we looked into the matter before G.o.d. Why should only those who have limited means have the privilege of offering to their Lord that which has really cost them something to offer? Observe, it is not _merely_ going without something we would naturally like to have or do, but going without it _for Jesus'

sake_. Not, 'I will go without it, because, after all, I can't very well afford it;' or, 'because I really ought to subscribe to so and so;' or, 'because I daresay I shall be glad I have not spent the money:' but, 'I will do without it, because I _do_ want to do a little more for Him who so loves me--just that much more than I could do if I did this other thing.' I fancy this is more often the heart language of those who _have_ to cut and contrive, than of those who are able to give liberally without any cutting and contriving at all. The very abundance of G.o.d's good gifts too often hinders from the privilege and delight of really doing without something superfluous or comfortable or usual, that they may give just that much more to their Lord. What a pity!

The following quotation may (I hope it will), touch some conscience:--'A gentleman once told us that his wine bill was 100 a year--more than enough to keep a Scripture reader always at work in some populous district. And it is one of the countless advantages of total abstinence that it at once sets free a certain amount of money for such work.

Smoking, too, is a habit not only injurious to the health in a vast majority of cases, and, to our mind, very unbecoming in a "temple of the Holy Ghost," but also one which squanders money which might be used for the Lord. Expenses in dress might in most people be curtailed; expensive tastes should be denied; and simplicity in all habits of life should be a mark of the followers of Him who had not where to lay His head.'

And again: 'The self-indulgence of wealthy Christians, who might largely support the Lord's work with what they lavish upon their houses, their tables, or their personal expenditure, is very sad to see.'[footnote: _Christian Progress_, vol. iii. pp. 25, 26.]

Here the question of jewellery seems to come in. Perhaps it was an instance of the gradual showing of the details of consecration, ill.u.s.trated on page 21, but I will confess that when I wrote 'Take my silver and my gold,' it never dawned on me that anything was included beyond the coin of the realm! But the Lord 'leads on softly,' and a good many of us have been shown some capital bits of unenclosed but easily enclosable ground, which have yielded 'pleasant fruit.' Yes, _very_ pleasant fruit! It is wonderfully nice to light upon something that we really never thought of as a possible gift to our Lord, and just to give it, straight away, to Him. I do not press the matter, but I do ask my lady friends to give it fair and candid and prayerful consideration.

Which do you really care most about--a diamond on your finger, or a star in the Redeemer's kingdom, shining for ever and ever? That is what it comes to, and there I leave it.

On the other hand, it is very possible to be fairly faithful in much, and yet unfaithful in that which is least. We may have thought about our gold and silver, and yet have been altogether thoughtless about our rubbish!

Some have a habit of h.o.a.rding away old garments, 'pieces,' remnants, and odds and ends generally, under the idea that they 'will come in useful some day;' very likely setting it up as a kind of mild virtue, backed by that noxious old saying, 'Keep it by you seven years, and you'll find a use for it.' And so the shabby things get shabbier, and moth and dust doth corrupt, and the drawers and places get choked and crowded; and meanwhile all this that is sheer rubbish to you might be made useful at once, to a degree beyond what you would guess, to some poor person.

It would be a nice variety for the clever fingers of a lady's maid to be set to work to do up old things; or some tidy woman may be found in almost every locality who knows how to contrive children's things out of what seems to you only fit for the rag-bag, either for her own little ones or those of her neighbours.

My sister trimmed 70 or 80 hats every spring for several years with the contents of friends' rubbish drawers, thus relieving dozens of poor mothers who liked their children to 'go tidy on Sunday,' and also keeping down finery in her Sunday school. Those who literally fulfilled her request for 'rubbish' used to marvel at the results.

Little sc.r.a.ps of carpet, torn old curtains, faded blinds, and all such gear, go a wonderfully long way towards making poor cottagers and old or sick people comfortable. I never saw anything in this 'rubbish' line yet that could not be turned to good account somehow, with a little _considering_ of the poor and their discomforts.

I wish my lady reader would just leave this book now, and go straight up-stairs and have a good rummage at once, and see what can be thus cleared out. If she does not know the right recipients at first hand, let her send it off to the nearest working clergyman's wife, and see how gratefully it will be received! For it is a great trial to workers among the poor not to be able to supply the needs they see. Such supplies are far more useful than treble their small money value.

Just a word of earnest pleading for needs, closely veiled, but very sore, which might be wonderfully lightened if this wardrobe over-hauling were systematic and faithful. There are hundreds of poor clergymen's families to whom a few old garments or any household oddments are as great a charity as to any of the poor under their charge. There are two Societies for aiding these with such gifts, under initials which are explained in the Reports; the P.P.C. Society--Secretary, Miss Breay, Battenhall Place, Worcester; and the A.F.D. Society--Secretary, Miss Hinton, 4 York Place, Clifton. I only ask my lady friends to send for a report to either of these devoted secretaries; and if their hearts are not so touched by the cases of brave and bitter need that they go forthwith to wardrobes and drawers to see what can be spared and sent, they are colder and harder than I give Englishwomen credit for.

There is no bondage in consecration. The two things are opposites, and cannot co-exist, much less mingle. We should suspect our consecration, and come afresh to our great Counsellor about it, directly we have any sense of bondage. As long as we have an unacknowledged feeling of fidget about our account-book, and a smothered wondering what and how much we '_ought_' to give, and a hushed-up wishing the thing had not been put quite so strongly before us, depend upon it we have not said unreservedly, 'Take my silver and my gold.' And how can the Lord keep what He has not been sincerely asked to take?

Ah! if we had stood at the foot of the Cross, and watched the tremendous payment of our redemption with the precious blood of Christ,--if we had seen that awful price told out, drop by drop, from His own dear patient brow and torn hands and feet, till it was ALL paid, and the central word of eternity was uttered, '_It is finished!_' should we not have been ready to say, '_Not a mite will I withhold!_'

My Jewels.

'Shall I hold them back--my jewels?

Time has travelled many a day Since I laid them by for ever, Safely locking them away; And I thought them yielded wholly.

When I dared no longer wear Gems contrasting, oh, so sadly!

With the adorning I would bear.

'Shall I keep them still--my jewels?

Shall I, can I yet withhold From that living, loving Saviour Aught of silver or of gold?

Gold so needed, that His gospel May resound from sea to sea; Can I know Christ's service lacketh, Yet forget His "unto Me"!

'No; I lay them down--my jewels, Truly on the altar now.

Stay! I see a vision pa.s.sing Of a gem-encircled brow: Heavenly treasure worn by Jesus, Souls won through my gift outpoured; Freely, gladly I will offer Jewels thus to crown my Lord!'

From _Woman's Work._