STORY OF A MICHIGAN BOY 103 You say they are sceptical where Jesus is concerned. I'll tell you when they are sceptical-when they see the carcicature of Jesus in you and me. One night I had got about fifty boys round me in a dug-out, with the walls blown out and bits of the roof off. I had taken some hymnsheets, for I love to hear them sing..... Among the great hymns they choose are these: "Jesu, Lover of my soul," and I have heard them sing, "Cover my defenceless head," with the shells falling close to them..... And then they will choose:.. "The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want," "Abide with me, "Rock of ages, cleft for me, and the one they love, I think, most of all is, "When I survey the wondrous Cross." .... I was talking to one boy-an American;.... "Sonny," I said, "you're an American?" "Yes, sir. I was born in Michigan." "Are you a Christian?" I asked. "No," he answered; "but I should like to be one. I wasn't brought up. I grew up, and I grew up my own way, and my own way was the wrong way.... Then he continued slowly, "On the Somme, a few hours before I was badly wounded"-he put his hand in his pocket and drew out a little crucifix-"I picked up that little crucifix and I put it in my pack, and when I got to hospital I found that little crucifix on my table. One of the nurses or the orderlies had put it there, thinking I was a Catholic. But I know I'm not, sir. I am nothing. I have been looking at this little crucifix so often since I was wounded, and I look at it till my eyes fill with tears, because it reminds me of what He did for me-not this little bit of metal, but what it means. I said, "Have you ever prayed?" He replied, "No, sir. I've wept over this little crucifix-is that prayer?" "That's prayer of the best sort, "I said. "Every tear contained volumes you could not utter, and God read every word. He knows all about it." I pulled out a little khaki Testament. "Would you like it?" I said. "Would you read it?" He answered, "Yes," and signed the decision in the cover. When I shook hands with him there was a light in his eyes. GYPSY SMITH, Your Boys. Much of the religious training of the Sunday-school is unnatural for the boy of a strong, virile nature..... Practically all the speakers at Sunday-school gatherings, in relating the conversion of Sundayschool scholars, confine themselves to "sweet, beautiful, blue-eyed, golden-haired, little girls." To the American boy, nearly everybody who has anything to do with religion is supposed to be a woman—from the kindergarten teacher to the angels in heaven. It is not to be wondered at that the presentation of that kind of a religion does not attract the street boy. He loves and worships the heroic. I believe that the reason many boys leave the Sunday-school is because the heroic and manly side of the ideal man Christ Jesus is not taught in such a way as to appeal to this side of boy-life. Philip E. Howard, of the Sunday-School Times, tells the following incident: "A crown of thorns, brought from the East, was shown from the platform of a city missionschool by the superintendent. Very little was said to aid in this visible demonstration of the means used in the humiliation of Jesus, but after the school session the roughest youngster in the room made his way alone to the desk. "Say, may I look at that?' he said. "Yes, answered the superintendent, and you may take it in your hands.' "The boy rested the crown of thorns lightly in one hand and touched it here and there with the other. His mischief-breeding eyes were serious. He looked earnestly at the superintendent, and lifted the crown to the platform table.". 'Did he wear one like that?' asked the boy. 'Yes, very much like that, I think.'""Well, if He wore a thing like that, I don't wonder that He had pain.' And the rough little boy of the street made no mischief as he went through the crowd and out of the school that day. "Here was a phase of the life of Jesus that appealed to him—a waif who was known to be brutally handled at home." CHARLES STELZLE, Boys of the Street-How to Win Them, pp. 62, 63. I search the world over, all its continents, islands, and seas, for the sweetest, tenderest, holiest spot it holds, and I kneel beneath the gnarled olives of dark Gethsemane. My soul is made stronger, my thoughts purer, my life nobler, by its agony of renunciation. I look upon the cross of shame a Roman instrument of torture and humiliation. Lo, it shines above every crown in the world, it grows with a radiance more enduring than the sun, throughout the length and breadth of civilization-an emblem of authority, by which princes reign! It gleams in the splendor of heaven above the dome of the universe. It glorifies everything that it shines upon. What do I know about afflictions? I know only what every body else knows that they are guide-posts along the way of the Pilgrimage. If the pathway lies through struggle and pains and fears, patience and love, and foes and fightings, you'r pretty sure to be on the right road. What is this mighty "sea of troubles"? That's the Red Sea. Go right ahead and see the glory of God. This is death in the desert? Speak to the rock, a-quiver with the heat glimmer, and see the fountains of life burst forth. That? That's a king wailing the sorrow of a broken heart in the chamber over the gate. You're on the right way. These? A long line of prison "finger-posts"-Peter and John and Paul and Silas-lots of prisons on the right road. This? A storm on Galilee. Good many storms on the "Jesus Way." This headless body? John the Baptist. That one? Paul. This shadowy garden where the starlight gleams softly on the crimson dew of agony falling on the grass blades? Gethsemane. You have to pass through Gethsemane. This fearful hill? Calvary. This burst of glory and splendor of life and joy? Oh, Pilgrim, this is Easter morn! You've come the right way, and you're Home, Pilgrim, you're Home! A MOTHER'S LOVE 105 Now, suppose you had avoided all this? Turned back to Egypt? Worshiped Diana, and kept out of prison? Made a little money by the sale of your Christ, like Judas? Gone around Gethsmane? Bowed to Pilate and avoided the Cross? ROBERT J. BURDETTE, D.D. Why I Believe in Sickness and Trouble. Copyright by the Sunday-School Times Company. The dominant personality in humanity is Jesus Christ, and the most outstanding fact in history is His crucifixion. ARCHIBALD SCOTT D.D. Minister of St. George's-Edinburgh. Author of “Buddhism and Christianity—A Parallel and a Contrast." Dark roll the waves at thy feet, O beautiful Faith! but the everlasting Rock, bathed in the sunlight of heavenly love, standeth unmoved. The breakers may surge and dash; but thy strength is sure. Dread sinking forms may lift their hideous hands to drag thee down, but purity will keep thee safe. Wreeks of time may toss unanchored, hurrying on to unknown seas, but thou art still looking upward into glory. And above the splashing spray, above the breakers' roar, thy voice floats ever,-"Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee; let the water and the blood, from thy wounded side that flowed. be of sin the perfect cure; save me, Lord, and make me pure. FRANKLIN EDSON BELDEN, The Crown Jewels of Art, p. 76. A MOTHER'S LOVE FOR HER DAUGHTER. Out several miles from the city of Glasgow, Scotland, there lives a good old Scottish lady. This woman brough up a lovely girl. She raised that girl to the best of her ability to make her a good Scotch Presbyterian. The time came when temptation came before the daughter and she left the mother's home. The mother tried to find her, but could not. Then she said, "There is one thing more I can do; I will go down to the city of Glasgow and I will have my picture taken and hang it on the walls of the houses where my daughter will be apt to visit." "The good widow did so. She had her picture taken; she had a number of paintings made from it and with her own hands hung them on the walls,.... That mother took her reputation in her own hand and said to the people of Glasgow, "Here is a picture of a woman who has lost her virtue;". A few days passed and a scene occurred in one of those buildings. The daughter saw that picture and said, "That is mother's picture,' and the thought came to her, "mother still loves me. Just then other girls came in and she said, "That is my mother." She said, "I have a new vision of life. I am going to leave the life of sin; I am going home to-night. Do you see that picture? That is mother's picture. When mother loves me enough that she is willing to lose her reputation as a virtuous woman, I have decided that I am going home. She did. She went to her old home and there by the lamp light sat the mother knitting in the old Scotch way. The girl had not the courage to go into that room. She went around to the front door and found it open. She said to herself, "What does this mean and mother here all 106 MARY DESERVES A HALO alone? I will just open the door quietly and go up to my room." She found the bed made, the covers turned back, and a candle burning on the stand. She said to herself, "I cannot go to bed here, mother has given my room to someone else," and with her heart breaking, she said, "I must go down and see mother." She went down. But before she reached her the mother turned around, and she said, "Mother, I have come home. Have I a welcome?" That mother arose and no human words or picture could tell what happened for a few moments. The daughter said, "Mother, I must know by your own voice that I am welcome before I can stay, for I see you have given my room to another. What means the burning candle and the open bed?" "For thirteen years, the last thing I have done at night was to open the bed and light the candle so that if my daughter returned she would find a welcome." That mother painted her picture and hung it on the wall, but the Lord Jesus Christ painted a picture on Calvary and he gave to all. If that mother's picture won that girl after thirteen years of riotous life, surely the picture of Christ on Calvary ought to lead us to come to him before going into sin and thus show our appreciation of him. WILLIAM GUTHRIE, in The Life Boat. O knees which bent in anguish in dark Gethsemane, O hands that were extended upon the awful tree, Hold up those precious nail-prints, and intercede for me. O side from whence the spear-point brought blood and water free O head so deeply pierced with thorns which sharpest be, O body scarred and wounded my sacrifice to be, For Each Day A Prayer. (On October Seventeenth page.) Selected and 85. Did Mary, the mother of Jesus, prophesy correctly that all generations would call her "blessed"? BIBLE EVIDENCE. Luke 1:46-48-And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord, And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. SECULAR EVIDENCE. If the brow of any mortal in this world-history of ours deserves a halo, it is the radiant brow of Mary, the mother of Jesus. The art which has circled her head with glory has expressed the universal veneration of man-kind for the truly greatest woman of all time. If John the Baptist was worthy to be called the greatest man born of woman |