PREFACE.

As the following pages are addressed to working men, I have touched only on those topics upon which I thought they were likely to need advice. The language throughout is as simple as possible, so that all may understand it; and, following the example of Holy Scripture, I have, wherever I have found it possible, illustrated my meaning from the teachings of nature.

That the book has many imperfections I am well aware; but I humbly trust that He, Whose guidance I have so often and so earnestly sought in writing the following pages, will be pleased in His mercy to grant that the words here written for His cause, and for His people, may "not return unto Him void," but may "accomplish that which" He shall please, and may prosper in the thing whereto He sends it.

R.G.D.

HINTON HOUSE,
1880.

CONTENTS.

Life
My Birthday
Temptation
Drink
Idle Words
Excuses
Poverty
Out of Work
Discontent
"I want to better myself"
Masters and Men
Forgiveness of Others
Hard Work
Courtship
Marriage
Kindness
Our Parents
Our Children
Home
Heaven our Home. (Part I.)
Heaven our Home. (Part II.)
Sunday
Church
Holy Communion. (Part I.)
Holy Communion. (Part II.)
The Bible
The Holy Spirit
God's Ministers
Prayer
On being alone
On Setting a Good Example
Helping Others
Our Companions
The Books we Read
True Manliness
Honesty
Bearing the Cross
Humility
Martyrdom
Repentance
Faith
The Shortness of Life
The Death of Friends
The Fear of Death
Sorrow and Suffering
Death
Last Words

LIFE.

"He liveth long who liveth well!

All other life is short and vain;

He liveth longest who can tell

Of living most for heavenly gain."

Bonar.

There are two distinct classes of people who enjoy God's gift of life, and who look upon that gift from two utterly different points of view. The worldly man looks upon life as a time in which to gratify his desire for pleasure, or in which to pursue his business schemes. The Christian looks upon life as a preparation for death, which shall lead him, as it were, through a gateway to the life to come. Nay, more than this, so nearly are these two connected, life and death, that the way in which men spend the former, mainly depends on the view they take of the latter. To the man who believes only in the things of time and sense, there practically appears no life to come. Death is the end of all things; he neither sees, nor cares to see anything beyond it. But how different is it with the Christian man! To him life is a growing-time--a time for growing in grace. What the spring-time and early days of summer are to the corn, what the April showers are to the tender shoots, so is life to him! He lives with a consciousness that death is hovering near, and often nearer perhaps than even he may think; but so far from making him wretched, or discontented, the thought of his departure rather causes him joy. To him life is but a shadow, a vapour, a short, passing, wintry day; death is but the dark valley--necessarily dark, for he too is but mortal--but beyond this darkness there is light, light unearthly, light glorious, which will lighten his eyes in death.

Life has often been compared to a ship, sailing over stormy seas, but always pointed towards the haven of rest, which is on the heavenly shore; meeting with many disasters, suffering many losses, till at length, "with rent cordage and shattered deck," she reaches the port of Heaven.

There is a story told of an ancient Greek teacher, who was asked what kind of ship he considered the safest to weather a storm--if he thought one with a pointed keel, or a flat-bottomed boat the best for resisting the violence of the waves? The old man answered, "The only really safe ship I know of is the one which is drawn up upon the shore." And oh! reader, is not this true of life? Have you never felt as you sailed across life's troubled sea, and met with ships of all kinds crossing towards the same harbour, have you never felt that none could really be called safe--safe amid the changes and chances of life--none safe until they were drawn up high and dry upon the heavenly shore? The best ship ever built may be wrecked in a storm, the most experienced pilot ever known may miss his way in a fog; and the most God-fearing, upright, honest Christian may be, nay certainly is, liable to faults, mistakes, and failings. "The only safe ship I know of is the one which is drawn up upon the shore!" There, out of reach of the violence of the waves, far from their stormy tides, the ship rests safely. It makes but little difference whether the ship be flat-bottomed or pointed as to its keel; it makes no difference at all whether the man be rich or poor, whether he be bond or free. It is to the same harbour both are bound, it is to the same Master each will be accountable for deeds done in the body. Only be sure that you are living now the life that Christ would have you live, and that you can say with S. Paul, "the life that I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, Who loved me, and gave Himself for me.[#]"

[#] Gal. ii. 20.

MY BIRTHDAY.

"My birthday! ev'ry minute tells

Me time is passing by,

And bids me look to One Who dwells

Beyond the starry sky;

A frowning past would seem to say:

'What moments have been thrown away.'

Great God! as birthdays come and go,

And mark each fleeting stage below,

Be Thou my hope, be Thou my aid--

The only strength which cannot fade--

And when the throbs of life have passed,

O take me to Thyself at last."

John Burbidge.

Reader, just think what a birthday is. Your birthday is the day on which you were born. The day on which God sent you into this world, giving you a free will to fight for Him or against Him. And every year regularly since that day you have had a birthday. You have been getting every year nearer and nearer to the grave, nearer and nearer home. And what is the home to which you have been drawing nearer, God's or Satan's? Has every fresh birthday found you growing in grace as well as in age? Can it be said of you, as it was of our blessed Lord, He "increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man?" Remember that such wisdom as that mentioned there is not to be got out of learned books. It is the same kind of wisdom that Solomon had, the gift of Almighty God. Learned men write learned books, and we read their writings with delight. But a queen even took a long, a toilsome journey in person to hear the wisdom of Solomon, for he was the wisest man on earth.

Just think for a moment how old you were last birthday. How many of those years can you truthfully say have been spent in the service of Christ? Jesus Christ passed thirty years here on our earth, thirty weary, sorrowful years, and He can truthfully say that every day of those thirty years was passed for you and for me! Yes, reader, every day and every hour! He bore the mocking laughter of the Jew, and the idle scoffing of the Gentile, that He might know what ridicule meant, and might help you to bear it too. He worked in the carpenter's shop that He might know what labour was, and understand what weariness means. He saw that foxes had holes, and the birds had their nests, while He had no place in which to lay His head; and all this He suffered, that He might know the full bitterness of the cup of misery drunk by the houseless, homeless poor. And He knew too that each year, each birthday, brought Him nearer to death, and what a death it was! Oh! have you ever thought of the pain of knowing all this beforehand? Perhaps now and then, (but very rarely,) you sit down on your birthday to think of your death-day. But God has mercifully hidden from your eyes the manner and circumstances of your death. It wasn't so with Christ. Whenever the thought of death came into His mind, there would rise up before Him a vision of three crosses of wood on a hill outside a city. Crowds of people would be standing round, and Roman soldiers keeping guard. On two of the crosses would be nailed thieves; on the centre one Himself, the Lord of life and glory. I remember seeing a picture a few years ago in London by a well-known artist. He had painted a boy standing near a carpenter's bench in a village workshop. He had been working hard, and was now resting, and in the act of stretching Himself. Both arms were extended at full length, and the head leant slightly on one side. A woman, kneeling on the floor behind Him, was looking at some treasures in a large chest. The sun falling upon the figure of the boy, cast a shadow upon the floor, a shadow of a figure stretched as if it were ready for crucifixion, and the artist had well named his picture "The Shadow of Death." Reader, you may be young, as young as that boy in the picture; but near you too may be standing the shadow of death. The boy Jesus, in stretching His weary limbs, strangely cast a shadow on the ground of the death of the man Christ. And though you know it not, death may be standing quite as near to you as it was to Him--or nearer.

Oh then be up and doing, working for the Master Christ, ere the night cometh. Rather let each birthday as it comes find you nearer to your Father in heaven, and more prepared to meet Him. And then those beautiful lines shall be true of you, and of your life:--

"To Thy saints, while here below,

With new years new mercies come;

But the happiest year they know,

Is their last which leads them Home."

TEMPTATION.

"When wounded sore the stricken heart

Lies bleeding and unbound,

One only Hand, a piercèd Hand,

Can salve the sinner's wound."

Mrs. Alexander.

What is temptation? A good man was once asked that question, and he said--"The border-line between sin and holiness. Not sin itself, but the surroundings, the outer crust, as it were, of sin." And that is the best answer I can give you.

Well did the Master know what temptation was; and in His godly wisdom He has given us a special petition in His own Prayer against it. "Lead us not into temptation," we continually pray, and we often say those words thoughtlessly and carelessly enough, but none of us ever know how many temptations these words keep us from. God gives us trials, and they are good for our faith; but it has been well said, that what is a trial in the hand of God becomes a temptation in the hand of Satan.

You should always try and remember, when tempted, that Jesus is near you and looking on--that no temptation can befall you, save what He allows. If you call to Him for help, He will hear you, and answer: not always to remove the temptation, but to give you His grace and strength to withstand it.

There is a story told of a young workman in the Black Country, who was converted to God, and was in consequence subjected to great persecution from those who were employed with him in the forge. One day they stripped him naked, and placed him in front of the furnace fire, while a number of men and lads stood by using filthy language. They threatened to keep him there until he swore, but he remained silent; till at length one, in whom there was more humanity than the rest, freed him from his tormentors. The clergyman happened to hear of it, and sent for him, and asked how he felt when in that fearful case. "Sir," was his simple answer, "I never felt before that Jesus was so near me as then." Don't you think that Christ had given that young man a large portion of His Spirit? Don't you think that he was a martyr--a witness for Christ? It was the same, you know, with those three children thousands of years ago at Babylon. The great King of Babylon had taken them captive; and he commanded them to fall down and worship a golden image which he had set up. There they were in Babylon--far from the temple, where they used to worship God, far from their friends and relatives. They were only three young men among thousands of strangers. And after all, would it have been so very wrong, just for once, to fall down and worship, as the king commanded? Yes, it would have been wrong, very wrong; and Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego knew it would have been wrong; and so they refused. And what was the consequence? Why, the names of those three heroes, for heroes they certainly were, have been recorded in the Bible, and translated into every language under heaven, and to this day we hold them up as examples for our sons to follow.

Reader, if you and I resist the devil, and overcome temptation, there is no likelihood of our names being written in the Bible. No children yet unborn will read the records of our history; no scholar will translate the story into other tongues. But our names, and the account of the temptation, and how we resisted it, will all be written down in the Lamb's great Book of Life. And is it not worth striving against any temptation in order to obtain such honour? Is it not worth while bearing witness for Jesus, if in return we wear the martyr's crown? But I would have you look higher than this. Jesus Christ died to save us; and should we not be grateful to Him for that? It is very little we can do for Him Who has done all for us. But we can do this. The weakest, and the poorest, and the most sinful among us can, when the temptation comes, put up a prayer to Jesus to ask His gracious help. And I know of none shorter, and certainly of none better, than the words He Himself has taught us--"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen[#]."

[#] S. Matt. vi. 13.

DRINK.

"When you see a drunken sot

From out the tavern reel,

Be thankful for a better lot,

And turn not on your heel.

Go warn him of the dreadful glass,

And save him, if you can;

But never scorn him as you pass--

Remember he's a man."

John Burbidge.

Drink! Why is it that when we speak that word we instinctively tremble? Is it not because we feel that it is the great enemy of our country and our race? Is it not because we call to mind strong men and women reeling under its influences? Neglected homes, ragged children, and general wants rise up before our eyes at the first mention of that word, Drink! Have you ever been in any of our large towns late on a Saturday night, and watched a woman waiting patiently outside a public house for the drunken husband, who is spending his time and his wages within? Perhaps there is a babe at her breast, and a ragged child crying at her side. Crying! yes, crying, because it knows that this means no supper, no comfort, no peace. It is an awful sight. I don't know any sight more sad; no not even a weeping mother mourning her only son.

Look into the newspapers again, week after week filled with cases of drunkenness. A horrible murder is committed; and if it should be peculiarly brutal in its details, we are almost certain to find that the murderer was drunk. Yes, it is drink that fills our prisons to overflowing; it is drink that fills the mad-houses of the country; and it is drink which indirectly taxes every single member of the society in which we live. Then, again, drunkenness leads to the commission of countless other sins. Apart from sins committed under the influence of drink, there are many sins to which drink leads. I have known a case in which a woman, who began life with high motives and honest intentions, being afflicted with a great and deep sorrow, was advised by her friends to seek consolation in drink. The glass which she then took led to another, and that one to another, and so on, until to-day that woman is pronounced by those very friends to be a hopeless and confirmed drunkard. As I said, before she took to drink her character was good; now it is far otherwise. And I am told that so great are her thefts, that everything in that house has to be kept under lock and key.

Oh, don't you think that is a terrible picture of the influence of drink? Don't you think that at the Day of Judgment God will blame the friends, however kindly they may have meant it, who first advised her to drown her grief in drink? Reader, that is a true story. It is no made-up tale. That poor woman is well known to me; and so far as I can see, the few years more she may have to live, and they cannot be many, must be passed in sorrow, in suffering, and in pain. And, unhappily, this curse of our nation does not end in our own land. Wherever the English tongue is spoken, wherever the English foot treads, there the curse follows. From the swarthy African, who knows the white man's "fire-water," which maddens his brain and dulls his senses, to the red Indian warrior who changes the skins of wild beasts for English gold and English spirits on the shores of Lake Ontario, all men know of the Englishman's curse: and knowing, learn to dread it.

It is drink which destroys our navy and our army alike. It is drunkenness which saps the strength of many of our greatest minds before they have left the university. And what can I say of our country villages,--of our young men, who year by year are growing up and beginning for themselves the labour of life; of the boys who, almost as soon as they leave school, learn, in many cases, to follow the example of their elders, and find the public house a convenient meeting-place?

It is for the young men of England to redeem their country's honour. It is for every individual soul to do battle with this mighty foe. Let the work be begun in our villages, in our homes, in ourselves. Let us be moderate in our living, in eating and in drinking; and then, by example rather than by precept, by deed rather than by word, we shall have done what we could; and when we lie down in death, it will be our comfort to reflect that little as it was we did, and poor and weak as were the efforts of our heart, we did it to the Lord and not unto men.

IDLE WORDS.

"O, never say a careless word

Hath not the power to pain,

The shaft may ope some hidden wound

That closes not again.

Weigh well those light-winged messengers;

God marked thy needless word,

And with it, too, the falling tear,

The heart-pang that it stirred."

Anna Shipton.

Our Lord, in S. Matthew's Gospel, tells us "that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment[#]." Now there are so many forms of speech which may be called "idle words," that I think it would be best to consider each separately. And so we will divide them under three heads. 1. Needless words. 2. Impure words. 3. Careless words.

[#] S. Matt. xii. 36.

1. Now all "idle words" are needless. You may be sure of this, that if God had made, as He has made, many expressions necessary to our ordinary conversation or adapted to our daily wants, such could never be "idle words." I do not mean to say, nor would I have you think by this, that any expressions of joy or merriment, that any of the amusing stories we hear, or any of the ordinary conversation of life, comes under the head of "idle words." But what I do mean by "idle words" and needless words is all that we commonly call gossip. Now gossip is quite needless. It is generally taken up with talk about our neighbours; rarely, very rarely, is any thing said in their favour--most often are their characters blackened. Now you know it is so easy often to say an unkind thing of a person, and so hard to say a kind one, that men prefer the easier method, and the character suffers thereby. But would this be so, think you, if we always remembered that for these and such like "idle words" God would bring us into judgment?

2. Then again there are impure words and swearing. Now I daresay when you swear you don't think of what it means. When you turn round upon a fellow man and curse him, it does not occur to you that you have solemnly called upon God to give his soul over to everlasting damnation. God Almighty alone can tell what effect that curse, so carelessly spoken, may have. I cannot and do not believe that it will affect the soul of him against whom it is launched. But I do believe, for God has told us so, that that word, however carelessly and thoughtlessly spoken, will one day be brought up against the speaker, and for that and any other "idle words" he may have spoken, he "shall give an account in the day of judgment."

And the same is true of impure words. They may be said thoughtlessly, but they may yet for all that do as much harm as if you had thought over them before speaking. Suppose you throw a stone into a pond, the stone sinks and you see it no more, and all you can see is a widening circle spreading ever farther and farther until it ripples at your feet upon the shore. And this is true of life. You speak an impure word, or you tell an impure tale to some of your friends, and you go away and forget it. But the word or the story may have been heard by a little child perhaps, and that word or story may be the first step on the road to its ruin. "For every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give an account in the day of judgment."

3. And what shall I say of careless words, for they are words so often spoken even by the very best among us? We speak the words, and often we regret them as soon as spoken. But we are too proud to recall them. It may be that a word which we have carelessly spoken may be remembered years after, when we ourselves have passed away. Besides which, careless words, needless words, and impure words pass upwards before God, and He hears them and notes them down against that day when men shall give an account of every idle word.

"By God's eternal dwelling-place,

Those words went floating by,

And still the echo wanders on

Throughout eternity.

And whispering yet within thy heart,

'The still small voice' is heard,

And thou shall cry, 'O God! forgive

My needless bitter word!'"

Yes, reader, God may forgive the words, and will do so, as He has promised; but, as that verse says, "the echo wanders on throughout eternity." And the consequences wander on too. And though God may have forgiven the utterance of the word, yet since it was idly spoken, you will have to "give an account thereof at the day of judgment."

It has been said, that the words spoken here "wander on" through eternity, and that we shall one day confront again the words which we have spoken in the flesh. How careful then ought we to be of every idle word! How particular that none escape us! For think of the torment it will be to the purified soul to meet in the everlasting city with the echoes--even though they be but the last dying echoes--of the idle words which the lips have spoken on earth.

EXCUSES.

"Make not vain excuses;

God gives strength to all,

Sets His guardian angels

Round us, lest we fall.

In the hour of trial

Call upon thy Lord,

Fight thy battle bravely,

Think upon His Word,

'I will never leave thee,

I am ever near,

In My strength go forward,

Cast away all fear.'"

E.C.O.

How natural it seems to make excuses. If we are found fault with, we have an excuse ready to our tongue. If we have to confess that we have been in the wrong, we do so with an excuse. Ever since the day when Adam and Eve fled from their Maker's Presence in the Garden of Eden, ever since Adam spoke those first words of excuse, "The woman whom Thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat," ever since then man has made one excuse after another, until excuses come so readily that it is difficult to speak without making one. We are all of us very fond of trying to shift the blame from our own shoulders on to those of others. If a railway accident takes place, it is most difficult to find out who is to blame for it. If an army is cut to pieces in battle, the blame is generally laid upon the dead. But if a praiseworthy action is done, and men talk about it, and it gets reported in the newspapers, there are always plenty of people quite ready to come forward and lay claim to having done the brave deed. And what is true of our earthly life, the life of the body, is true also of the life of the soul. When we fall into sin, when we come on our knees to confess the sin to Almighty God, how very often the confession is spoilt by excuses. Just as Adam laid the blame on Eve, and Eve in her turn blamed the Serpent, so we lay the blame on somebody else, and expect God will accept our excuses.

Now there are so many excuses that the devil teaches men, that it would be quite impossible for me to deal with nearly all of them; but there are one or two of the commonest, against which I can put you on your guard.

One of the excuses most frequently made for not coming to Christ is, "I am not good enough." Reader, which of us would be good enough for Christ, if He required us to be perfect? But He wants us to come just as we are, to come with our sins, and lay them upon Him, Who bore them long ago "in His own body on the tree."

I have read of an artist who wanted to paint a picture of the Prodigal Son. He searched through the mad-houses, and work-houses, and prisons, to find a man wretched enough to represent the Prodigal, but he could not find one. One day he was walking down the street and he met a beggar; he thought the man would do, and he told him he would pay him well, if he would come to his room, and sit for his picture. The day came, and the man appeared at the artist's door, and reminded him of his appointment with him. But the artist looked at him and said, "No, I have never seen you before. I made an appointment with a ragged beggar, not with you." But the man persisted, and named the place where they had first met; so the artist asked him what he had been doing. "Well," answered the beggar, "I thought I would dress myself up a bit before I got painted." "Then," said the artist, "I do not want you; I wanted you as you were, not as you are now." And, reader, Christ wants you as you are, when He first meets you. Without excuses, poor, sinful, and miserable; a broken and a contrite heart He will not despise.

"I came to Jesus as I was,

Weary, and worn, and sad;

I found in Him a resting-place,

And He has made me glad."

 

Another very common excuse is, "There is no hurry." Men, and especially young men, think, "Oh! I've got life before me, why shouldn't I amuse myself a bit now? and then, when I'm old, too old for amusement, I'll give the days of my life to God." I have heard a story, that on one occasion Satan gathered his wicked spirits together, and they took counsel as to how they could best ruin mankind. And some said one thing and some another. One, for instance, stood up and said, "I'll go and tell them that there's no God." But Satan said, "No, that won't do; it's too old a story; it has been tried and failed." And another rose up and said, "I'll go and persuade them that the Bible is not true." And Satan replied again, "No, that won't do either; you might persuade a few, but you would not convince many. But," he added, "I'll tell you what to do, go and tell them that there's no hurry, they'll all believe that." And from that day to this Satan has been telling us that there's no hurry, and we all do believe that. Yes, the very best of us and the very wisest, as well as the worst and most ignorant, still think that there's no hurry. Morning after morning the sun rises, and every evening he sinks beyond the distant hills. Year by year, spring follows winter, and summer follows spring. Every year we gather in a new harvest, and then the winter evenings are with us once more; and because these things come so regularly and so naturally, we are apt to think that there's no hurry.

Reader, if you are still persuading yourself that there's no hurry for you, make the excuse no longer. Jesus invites you, saying, "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." God's ministers invite you, preaching the Gospel of the Blessed God. The open church and the pealing bells invite you, "the gay green earth" and the open sky, the birds and beasts, all these invite you to look at them, in and beyond them, to their Maker's love.

I wish I had time to say more about these excuses. They are as numerous as the grains of sand on the seashore. But I suppose if I did exhaust them all, Satan would be quite ready to give you fresh ones.

God "willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should turn from his wickedness and live." Oh! think of that joyful life, immortal, everlasting, around the throne of Christ. Think of your dear friends who have gone before; think, it may be, of the pious mother, who first taught your infant lips to say "Our Father, which art in heaven." And she, too, is there! And then, reader, think of the punishment of sin; there's no escape from that! Our Lord Himself has told us what that will be--"Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth[#]."

[#] S. Matt. xxv. 30.

POVERTY.

"God sends us poverty or wealth,

Whichever He thinks best;

The best for earthly warfare here--

The best for heavenly rest.

If God has sent you wealth, it is

Not yours, but only lent.

If He has sent you poverty,

Then learn to be content."

R.D.

One of the questions, which men have wasted many weary hours in trying to answer, is the question of the uneven division of wealth in the world. Great men and clever men have tried, and all alike have failed; nay, some have gone further, and have declared that since an unseen Being has divided wealth so unevenly, it is for them to redistribute it. And these, too, have failed. And I suppose as long as the world lasts we shall never have an answer to the question--How is it that one man in this world is so rich that he really does not know what to do with his money: he buys horses and carriages, and stocks his house with lovely and costly treasures, and with wrought silver and gold? And how is it, on the other hand, that a man, living perhaps at the rich man's very gates, a man as religious, as honest, as straightforward as he, how is it that he must needs rise early and go late to rest to gain his daily bread? How is it that sometimes even with all his daily toil he feels an anxiety quite unknown to the other, as to where the next meal is to come from? Can you answer that question? I think not! And, reader, you are not alone in your ignorance; for I have never heard of anybody yet who could give any cause for this uneven division of wealth.

No, of all God's gifts to men, none are so unevenly distributed; and none cause so much bitterness between men, as His gift of riches. The great thing then to remember is, first, that both poverty and wealth come from Almighty God. If we have riches, God has given them, not to use them selfishly for our own purposes, but in order to benefit other people. While, if we are poor in this world's goods, we may be rich in heavenly treasure, and still look upon our poverty as the gift of God. "But," you may say, "it is all very well for you, with everything you can want, to talk to us about poverty being a blessed state, and a gift of God, but you can't know anything of the troubles of poverty." Now, there may be and there are certain troubles which a poor man necessarily feels, and which a rich man does not, and these of course I don't pretend to know. There may be moments in your life, in which you feel that God has forgotten you, that starvation must be very near! But do remember that God never forgets His people. He never fails to help and govern those He has brought up in His steadfast fear and love. The same kind providence watches the poor man's humble cottage and the royal throne. The same God will mark what is done amiss in both cases, and will most surely punish it.

Our Lord and His Apostles were poor working men. He had made all men, and had only to speak the word, and the kings of the earth would gladly have flocked in eager to be His disciples; but no, He passes over all these, and He goes down to the seashore, and He finds some plain fishermen mending their nets, He bids them follow Him; and, just as if it was the most natural thing in the world, they get up, and leave behind them their few earthly possessions (probably little else than fishing-tackle), and they follow Him without delay. They know well that they are going after a poor man, but they never think of the poverty. They know that theirs will be no bed of down, when the toils of day are over, for He whom they follow has "not where to lay His head[#]." They know that the man they are following has no earthly home, and that when they leave their father and the ship, they leave all that they have and all they will ever have on earth. I wonder, reader, if you have ever thought of these Apostles of Jesus leaving all to follow Him, and of their reason for doing so. And what was the reason--was it hope of worldly honour? I think not; if so they would very soon have been bitterly deceived. Or was it, think you, to have their names and history written down in the Bible, that all men might read of their self-denial? I hardly think that likely, for when they started to follow Jesus, they knew but little of Him, and nothing at all of a Bible, in which their names should appear. No, what these Apostles had is what we want so much, rich and poor alike. God's great gift of faith. Faith to believe God, as Abraham believed Him. Faith to take Christ at His word, as the Apostles did. Faith here, which shall guide us through this world of sin, and land us, whether rich or poor, on the eternal shore beyond it. To us, then, poverty or wealth alike would come as God's gifts, and we should thankfully accept them as such, and we should no longer complain of our hard lot and our little grievances, but should think more of Christ, and less of ourselves--more of His riches, and less of our poverty.