Chapter 7

And God often answers prayer in a way we little expect; so little, indeed, that we are apt hardly to realize it as an answer at all. A few years ago, there was an awful storm on the east coast of England, and a ship was seen to be in peril about a mile from the shore. The life-boat was launched, but owing to some delay, it seemed likely to be of but little use. As the boat was nearing a dangerous spot, one of the men cried, "Boys, shall we turn back, it is almost certain death to go on? The ship seems to have gone down, and, no doubt, all hands have perished." But one of his mates answered, "As I ran along the cliff, I saw behind a hedge two ladies praying. I am a wild chap, yet I do believe God hears prayer; we shall save some lives." Then on went the life-boat, with her gallant crew, ploughing her way through the dangerous breakers. The ship had gone down when the boat reached the spot, and no sign could be seen of her crew. The life-boat drifted four miles. In those four miles the sailors picked up first one poor fellow, then another, until eight lives had been saved. The shipwrecked sailors often told the tale afterwards, how that in answer to those ladies' prayer, the life-boat held on its way, and the little crew were saved. Yes, and I could tell you of more wonderful answers to prayer than that, but my object is not to tell you interesting stories, but to strive to leave a lasting impression, by God's grace, upon the heart. I have told you how God answers prayer, in a way which, though kind and loving, was quite unexpected. Sometimes God's answers may not seem to us kind and loving, but may at first appear to be harsh. We find in the end, however, that He knows best what is good for us. Oh! it is impossible to pass through life without feeling the power of prayer. The life of every separate person must testify to its power; the death of every Christian is an exhibition of it. "Pray without ceasing," then. Whenever you feel inclined to speak an _idle word_, say a few words to God instead. You can speak quite easily to your father on earth, why not speak as easily to your Father in Heaven? Nothing is too small, or too common, to tell Him about. The little daily troubles; the differences between masters and men; the question of your wages; the home troubles, the field troubles; the wet season, or the summer heat; the insects which destroy your garden, or the sins which are destroying your soul--these and such as these are not too small, or too simple to take up the attention of our Father in Heaven, "Who feedeth the young ravens that cry unto Him," and without Whose knowledge not even a sparrow falls to the ground, and dies.

*ON BEING ALONE.*

"Call it not solitude to be alone, Call it not solitude, for God is nigh: And holy angels from His heavenly throne Breathe round us love, and comfort from on high.

Then go we forth to work and struggle on, Onwards our steps, and upwards still our hearts; Let all men see the strength, the power supreme, One precious hour of solitude imparts.

Oh! never, never let us turn away From one such blessed hour that God has given, One moment when we can in silence pray And raise our hearts unto our home in heaven." _Anon._

There are but few people, I suppose, who care to be alone. Man, you will say, was made for society; he was made to be of use to others, and not to dwell alone. True, it is not good for man to be always alone; and yet there are times when it is well to withdraw ourselves from the busy world, and to go into some solitary place, and be alone. It is a want that we all feel more or less. David felt it, "Oh that I had wings like a dove," he cried, "for then would I flee away and be at rest[#]." The Master felt it, for He continued whole nights alone in prayer to God. And God's saints in every age have felt it. In this busy life of ours we must often feel rest and solitude acceptable. How glad we are, for instance, when the evening comes, and we know that the day's toil is over, and that we can be alone. And when Saturday night comes we are more glad still, for we know that it means not merely a night's rest, but a day's rest too. Now I want you to think of being alone in three separate and distinct senses, 1. Solitude. 2. Loneliness. 3. Isolation. And first, solitude. A recent writer, speaking of our blessed Lord's frequent nights spent alone on the Mount of Olives, says,--"There is something affecting beyond measure in the thought of these lonely hours; the absolute stillness and silence, broken by no sounds of human life, but only by the hooting of the night-jar, or the howl of the jackal; the stars of an eastern heaven raining their large lustre out of the depth; the figure of the Man of Sorrows kneeling upon the dewy grass, and gaining strength for His labours from the purer air, the more open heaven, of that intense and silent communing with His Father and His God."

[#] Ps. lv. 6.

Yes, there is something wonderfully solemn and grand in that kind of solitude, the solitude of prayer. The intense silence of the world sleeping below Him, the cold night air upon His brow, the kneeling figure and earnest words; these all we can picture to ourselves, and say such _solitude_ is good!

Then, again, there is loneliness. Who has not felt lonely? It may have been that as we stood round an open grave and listened to the beautiful words spoken by our Church over the departed, we first learnt what loneliness meant. I have been told that nowhere is the sense of loneliness stronger than on hearing the service for the Burial of the Dead at sea. I have been told that there comes over the spirit an untold sense of loneliness when one of a vessel's crew is committed to the deep, far from land, in the midst of the ocean, "looking for the resurrection of the body, when the sea shall give up her dead;" and the living comrades stand around the corpse and see the cold waves close over their mate's remains. But solitude is no mere feeling of the mind, it is a stern reality. It comes as a necessary part in the life of all men, and so it must be met.

Lastly, there is isolation. And this to men is the hardest trial of all. To be obliged to mix with people with whom we have nothing in common, to go about and live with those who have no fear of God before their eyes, to work with the blasphemer, to toil for the vicious, to mix with the depraved; oh! sit needs a Christian spirit indeed to bear up under such a trial. But Christ knew well what it was to do this. He was as much alone in the crowded street as ever He was on the cold hillside. He was as truly alone when He sat at meat in the Pharisee's house as He was while walking on the sea of Gennesaret. Oh yes, isolation is the portion of all true Christians as it was of the Master. We can talk to men of the world, we can mix with men of the world, and we can do good to men of the world, and yet all the while we are alone. Oh! don't you know what it is to long to ask advice, and yet have none of whom to ask it? Don't you know how easy it is to make hundreds of acquaintances, but how very hard it is to have one true friend? And this is what Jesus felt, and felt for us. He went through it all, all the solitude, all the loneliness, all the bitter isolation for you and for me, that when the time came that we should be alone, we might remember His loneliness and take courage. Reader, the day will come when you too will have to be alone. You may surround yourself with friends now, you may take pleasure in counting the number of those who are proud to know you; but, believe me, it won't be so always. Alone you will have to pass through the dark valley of the shadow of death, alone you will have to stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. Alone you will have to give "that strict and solemn account" of the way in which you have used your time, your influence, and your power on earth. But there is One, One who knows what loneliness is, Who has promised to be with you, if you ask Him; promised to take care of you over the dark valley, for the darkness is no darkness with Him, and He has passed over that way before. Go then to Jesus, the lonely Man of sorrows. Make a friend of Him, and tell Him that you want His help in your solitude, His guidance in your loneliness, His presence in your isolation; ask Him to come to you as He came of old to His toiling, weary, lonely disciples on the Galilean sea; ask Him to come and guide your ship into quiet harbours, and safe resting-places, and to bring you into a better country, even an heavenly, where none are sad, or sick, or lonely, for all are filled with the Presence of God.

*ON SETTING A GOOD EXAMPLE.*

"Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee Thou no ray of light and joy canst throw, If no silken cord of love hath bound thee To some little world through weal and woe.

If no eyes thy tender love can brighten, No fond voices answer to thine own, If no brother's sorrow thou canst lighten By daily sympathy and gentle tone.

Daily struggling, though enclosed and lonely, Every day a rich reward will give; Thou wilt find, by hearty striving only And truly loving, thou canst truly live." _Harriet Winslow._

There is no subject of those on which I have written as yet in this book, or of those on which I shall write, that I believe to be of greater importance than that of setting a good example to others. Amongst other things our influence on one another has been compared to the action of the sea. And indeed the comparison is a good one. The sea is a mighty power, stronger perhaps than any other natural force. It is constantly and silently at work. We stand on a rock in the midst of the ocean; a rock that looks so firm, and seems so hard that it blunts the sharpest tools to work it. And yet, quite silently, the restless sea is eating into its very heart with its ceaseless beatings. And so is it with influence, or example. Silently, but none the less surely, do we make our influence felt upon each other. The influence may be bad or good; it may be a bad or good example we are setting, or a bad or good word that we speak, still there are always plenty of people ready to take it up and copy it. Probably for every person we can see to be influenced by our example, there are at least ten of whom we know nothing. Reader, these are solemn thoughts. The idle word you spoke yesterday has gone beyond recall; but God heard it and noted both it and its effect upon those who stood by. And you may one day find that that word has caused a world of sorrow to spring up around it. Yes, we cannot unspeak a word carelessly spoken, or unthink one evil thought. How often we hear it said, "Alas! I possess no influence, what can I do?" Now it is true that many have no wealth, no beauty, no rank, no intellect, no learning; but there never has been a heart created since the world began, that has not received and exerted the precious, though much-abused gift of influence. How is this? Just because every heart has the power of loving! There is a story told of Cecil's little daughter, who was asked by her father how it was that everybody loved her so much. "I think, dear father," replied the child, "it must be because I love everybody." Here, then, is a work we all can do, and we all have to do. "Love is power." The sunshine has to do its work; it penetrates the darkest places, the dirtiest streets, the most dismal prisons; it brings light and heat to the chilled and cold; it gives colour to the flower, and ripeness to the fruit. And so it is with good influence. The influence of one loving heart may do a world of good. It may not be a powerful heart; it need not be the heart of a learned man; still less need it be the heart of a rich one; so long as it is a loving heart it will go about cheering and lighting up, warming and colouring and ripening all things like the sun.

Many good people seem to think it a duty to keep their hearts locked up tight from their fellow men. Have you ever thought seriously of the sin of doing this? Have you ever thought that such a course makes the religion of your gentle, kindly, warm-hearted Master appear in a cold and disagreeable form? Have you ever thought that as the Lord Jesus looks upon the cup of cold water bestowed on a neighbour as given to Him, so He will look upon the wounded feeling, the repulsed confidence, the bruised spirit, you have occasioned as given to Him too? Oh! it is a sad thing to fold up in a napkin the talent of _manner_; to lose, as it were, the key of the door which opens the hearts of men.

But if you are using your influence, don't be afraid to use it for Christ; to be an out-and-out Christian! Those are the sort He always blesses in the end, and their works follow them long after they have passed onward to their reward.

Not long ago, in a Sussex village, there lived a young man, a farm-labourer. He had often wished to stay in church for Holy Communion, which he knew well would help him, beyond all else, in the good and earnest life he was trying to lead. Still the fear of his companions' laughter held him back. One Sunday morning, however, after praying much for God's help to aid him to do what was right, he knelt on, when the others had left the church, and went up to receive the Holy Communion. On coming out of church his friends began to laugh at him for staying, but he said nothing, and walked quietly home. Sunday after Sunday he persevered, though it was hard work, and he was often tempted to give way. Months passed, and one Sunday another boy came and knelt down beside him, instead of leaving church, and he too received the Holy Communion. A few Sundays after they were joined by another, and after that more and more of the young men of that parish began to follow their example. Nor did the good resulting from this end there. These young men are now banded together in that parish, working together for the same great Master Christ, each in his own occupation, and leading others to the knowledge of the Saviour. And all this came from the courage of that one brave soldier of Christ, who used his influence in his Captain's cause. Reader, will not you go and do likewise?

Hitherto I have spoken only of the good influence we may exercise upon our companions and on strangers. What shall I say of the influence we may exercise on our home? Ere this, one Christian man has been known to change the whole manner of life of a household. St. Paul tells us in his Epistle to Timothy to "shew piety at home;" and after all it is _in our own homes_ that we must bear witness for Jesus Christ. Speak up for Christ when occasion demands it, above all live a Christian life, and then the lives of those around you will be brought more under the influence of religion. But to young men particularly is the call to influence others loudest and clearest, and to set a good example their plain duty--

"Young men be strong for Jesus, To toil for Him is gain-- And Jesus wrought for Joseph With chisel, saw, and plane."

*HELPING OTHERS.*

"The cowslip and the spreading vine, The daisy in the grass, The snow-drop and the eglantine, Preach sermons as we pass. The ant within its cavern deep Would bid us labour too, And writes upon its tiny heap-- 'There's work enough to do.'

To have a heart for those who weep, The sottish drunkard win; To rescue all the children deep In ignorance and sin; To help the poor, the hungry feed; To give him coat and shoe; To see that all can write and read-- Is 'work enough to do.'" _John Burbidge._

Of all the different kinds of work that God has given us to do here on earth, there is none more important, none more satisfactory, than this work of helping others. Ever since Jesus Christ stood upon the shore of the sea of Galilee, watching two fishermen mending their nets; ever since He spoke to those two, saying, "Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men[#]," the command has been binding upon all Christians. To go out upon the grand field of philanthropy, of love of men, is the noblest occupation that our poor life can have. To spend and be spent in the service of our fellow-men is a work that is so specially blest by Christ, that I hardly think that a chapter on "helping others" will be in any sense out of place here.

[#] S. Matt. iv. 19.

But perhaps you will say, "How can I, I who am so poor, help others?" Reader, you have only to look for such work, and God will give it you. It may be you can help others by giving them your time. For instance, if you have an aged or infirm neighbour, too feeble to dig his own garden, it would no doubt be a great help to him if you were to go and offer to do it for him. Some time ago, in a country village, there was a young man, who wished to try and help others in some practical way, for the Master's sake. For a long time he could not find anything to do; but at last one of his neighbours, an old man, became very ill, and bedridden. He was very poor, and his old wife almost too infirm to attend to him properly. For the last two years this young fellow has gone in in the morning, before going to his work, and done all he could for him in the house; and every night on returning home, he goes again, settles him for the night, and reads the Bible to him before leaving. One day, when he was praised for doing this, he said, quite simply, "I do like to do it, it seems like helping Christ: whenever I go there, I say to myself, 'I was sick, and ye visited _Me_.'"

That young man understands the true meaning of the words "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me[#]."

[#] S. Matt. xxv. 40.

Reader, there may be no sick neighbour for you to help, but there is no doubt you can find work to do if you will only try. Oh! don't stand idle all the blessed hours of youth, that God has given you to work for others. Stand up like men, ready to go and fight for Jesus, the Great Captain of the Lord's host. Ask God to give you strength and victory, and to fulfil the promise He once gave to His chosen people, by the mouth of the prophet Isaiah, "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint[#]."

[#] Isaiah xl. 31.

"Come labour on! Who dares stand idle on the harvest plain, While all around him waves the golden grain? And to each servant does the Master say, 'Go, work to-day.'

Come labour on! The toil is pleasant, the reward is sure, Blessed are those who to the end endure; How full their joy, how deep their rest shall be, Oh! Lord, with Thee."

Yes, the end of helping others lies in the Master's kingdom. The reward of serving Christ in the person of His poor, awaits you in the many mansions. You may meet with coldness, and hard words, from those you would seek to help; but generally, you will find them only too glad of it. And what matters it what men say and think of your work, if the Lord approves of it? What will it matter whether your friends did not help you, if Christ helps you here, and gives you your reward in heaven?

It is especially a young man's calling to help others. He need not give up the least bit of his ordinary daily work or daily pleasure to do so. All he needs is a ready will to undertake the work as soon as Christ gives it him to do.

I cannot close this chapter better than by quoting some remarks, made some years ago by one of the London clergy. Preaching to young men upon the words, "Young man, I say unto thee arise!" the preacher said--"We need young men, fired with the thought that they are called by Christ to be the saviours of society from the sins that are wasting it, to render to their country and to humanity the noblest service, by fighting with voice and hand against those deadly foes that menace our very life; and will, if they are allowed to run riot, certainly drag us down to hell. Young men, rise up to stand against it and destroy it. Lift up against it the Standard of the Cross. Be known as Christ's soldiers, banded and pledged to overthrow it. Let your conversation be pure from all taint of uncleanness; and never let the glass rob you of your power to stand up for Christ against sensual sin. Rebuke and frown down the young man's talk, and the habit of life it engenders; you know what I mean. Say to those who love it, it is just this that is destroying us as a people. Unless our young men rise up together, as one man, and make drunkenness and harlotry shameful and hateful, I see no hope for our country, but a hope of growing decay."

Those are wise words, carefully and thoughtfully spoken. God grant, reader, that you and I may lay them seriously to heart.

*OUR COMPANIONS.*

"A friend I had, long, long ago, And one I learnt to prize, He taught a truth that all should know-- In work true honour lies. A frank and cheerful face had he, And a heart as light as heart could be. * * * * * He has found his rest in Heaven above, But has left a golden fame; For the neighbours tell his deeds of love, And the children bless his name; And comrades too for many a day Shall roughly wipe their tears away." _John Burbidge._

There are, perhaps, few things so important to a young man as to make a right choice of companions. How much depends on this. How much of our present and future happiness; nay, more, how much of our eternal welfare depends upon those with whom we mix on earth. Very many a young man has begun life with the best intentions and the holiest desires; and all these have been dashed to the ground by his having made an unwise choice in selecting his companions.

Now there are several things to be thought of in making this choice. And I shall try to put a few of these before you. First, it is most important that your companions should be God-fearing men. I don't think any friendship can be really happy, or even lasting, unless this is the case. For remember that there are friendships which do not end with life; that true friendship, blessed by Almighty God, is only begun here below, and is carried on in that distant spirit-land beyond the grave.

Secondly, don't think that because your companions should be godly men, they must needs be gloomy or dull. A man may be godly, and at the same time quite able to laugh with others, and make as good jokes as they; but his laughter will never be turned against religion, nor his jokes made at the expense of the people of God. A man who is a drunkard, for instance, will never be a good or even pleasant companion for you. His conversation in his sober moments is rarely interesting, and when he is in liquor he is worse than a beast. And as to his example, what can I say of that? It will be an example which God grant, reader, you may never follow; but it is an example which it is better you should not even see. In a word, as a recent writer has put it, my advice to you is, "Make friends with sober men, who can talk and laugh without incessant liquor."