THE GARLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 3475, 19 October 1920, Page 55

THE GARLAND.

FOR THE QUIET HOUR

No. 373.

By Duncan Wright, Dunedin.

ADVERSITY

"GBTKSEMAKE."

Visit again "'Gethsemane," and s««> "The Man of Sorrows" groaning there tor

thee —■ , . , And interceding, too. There are but few Admitted to that sacred scene, to view His soul's deep anguish, as the hour draws

nigh, . •, When He must drink the cup of wrath anct

die. , Shake off thy sleep, thou ransomed sinner,

see! 1 , He bears thy punishment instead of thee: Just pause awhile—list! for Ho speaks to

thee: ~j "Canst thou not watch one little hour with

Me?" Alas! how weak is human love again

Ye slumber on, although He bears that pain And agony for thee .... The agony is passed, an Angel flies From Heaven to strengthen Him—before

Him lies ■ The Condemnation and the Judgment Hall, The cruel scourging, and. the time when all "Will flee from' Him and leave Him all alone. There is not one to share His sorrow, none Have pity on Him now, for none can share In sorrow so intense; nay, He must bear It all alone. But thou mayst follow on, And with adoring wonder gaze upon The spotless Lamb led on, the Son of God Ready, in sacrifice, to shed! His blood Upon the Cross for thee. Here take thy

stand And ever shelter 'neath His outstretched hand.

—K. E. T

The message noted here by C. H. Spurgeon will be well understood and duly appreciated by many: "Before I was afflicted I went astray." Partly, perhaps, through the absence of trial. Often our trials act as a thornhedge to keep us in the good pasture, but our prosperity ie a gap through which we go astray. Ii any of us remember a time in which we had no trouble, we also probably recollect that then grace was low, and temptation was strong. It may be some believer cries, 'Oh, that it were with me as in those summer days before I was afflicted! Such a sigh is unwise, and arises from a carnal love of ease; the spiritual man who prizes growth in grace will bless God that those dangerous days are over, and that if the weather be more stormy it is also more healthy. It is well when the mind is open and candid, as in this instance; perhaps David would never have known and confessed his own strayings if he hau not smarted under the rod. Let us join in his humble acknowledgements, for doubtless we have imitated him in his strayings. Why is that a little ease works in us so much disease? Can we never rest without rusting? Never be filled without waxing fat? Never rise as to one world without going down as to another? What weak creatures we are to be unable to bear a little pleasure! What base hearts are those which turn the abundance of God's goodness into an occasion for sin ! 'But now have I kept Thy word.' Grace is in that heart which profits by its chastening. It is of no use to plough barren soil. When there is no spiritual life, affliction works no spiritual benefit; but where the heart is sound, trouble awakens conscience, wandering is confessed, the soul becomes again obedient to the command, and continues to be so. Whipping does not turn a rebel into a child; but to the true child a touch ol the rod is a sure corrective. In the Psalmist's case the medicine of affliction worked a change —' but' • an immediate change—'now'; a lasting change—'have I'; an inward change—'have I kept'; a change Godward—'Thy word." Before his trouble he wandered, but after it he kept within the hedge of the word, and found good pasture for the soul; the trial tethered him to his proper place; it kept him, and then he kept God's word. Sweet are the uses of adversity, and this is one of them, it puts a bridle upon transgression and furnishes a spur for holiness."

"BELIEVE YE THAT I AM ABLE TO DO THIS?" (Matt, ix: 28.) By the Rev. Canon HoreefieH, D.D. Oh! Jesus Lord, Long have I walked in darkness, now I hear That Thou can'at ope' my eyes, oan'st throw the light Of heaven upon my path, dispel all fear, Pardon all sin, illumine Nature's night, And give me joy; Lord, grant that I may eee. Believest thou That I am able to remove thy sin, To change thy wayward heart, to make thee clean, To keep thee steadfast, give thee peace within, And keep thee near Me, not a cloud between, Believeet thou that I ami able to clo this? Yea, Lord I Lot I have followed Thee, and day by day Thy name confessed; and I have sought for grace,

Feeling that I am blind and poor; but now I pray That ©very moment I may-see Thy face. Lord, give me power; Lord, grant that I may see. My child, believest thou? 'Tis not eno' to call upon My name, Or e'en make mention of My saving power. . Dcst thou bslieve I can thy proud will tarn©, And! all the day My grace upon thee shower? Believest thou that I am able to do this? Yea, Lord! Not only have I known and told Thy might, But once I felt it, as my heart did leap To know the past forgiven; but. Lord, more light Is now the boon I crave, oh! canst Thou keep My step from slipping when I cannot see? Believest thoii, My child? For "if thou canst believe," it shall be done. My power is infinite.; My arm is nigh; My eye foresees thy perils; helpless onei, Thy fears shall vanish all, thy tears be dry. Believest thou that I am able to do this? Yea, Lord! Henceforth I'll, trust Thee, lean on Thee alone, Nor seek to see my past, or fight my foee, Content that Thou dost lead—no longer moan That I am weak, but, tempted, shout "He knows" And rest —and Thou shalt set m& free. Oh, blessed rest, For every child of God the power Divine Waits to be exercised! —if we will but trust. Thus on our path eternal light shall shine. And though w© are but weak and sinful dust, His arm shall keep us till His face we see. A man who had enjoyed great prosperity, and had amassed considerable wealth, without thought of God, was at length overwhelmed with calamities. His life was imperilled, his prosperity was lost, his family were sick nigh unto death, he lost his eyesight, and, last of all, his boy died. Hje asked to be led to the side of his lost son, and handled the dead form which he could no longer see. There he exclaimed: "0 God! It is enough! Stricken, smitten, and afflicted, the wand;ering child of pious parents, who have long gone to heaven, will yield. I will kiss the rod that smites me; and, although I cannot now see Thee in all Nature, as once I might have done, yet I will and do hear They in the silence of my heart." They came to remove him, but he said: "Oh, no! not yet; not until here, audibly, in your presence, and, above, all, in the presence of the all-seeing God, I make my vows. Samuel! dearest Samuel! thou wilt never come to me, but I will go to thee, in that world where the wicked cease from troubling and th;e weary are at rest."—Anon. THE HALL OF JUDGMENT. I know no words that could portray with might And majesty befitting such a grief; How then shall I through mine construe aright The sorrows of our Lord beyond belief? I glance at them, and 10, my glance is brief. For I am smitten as I muse upon A love so strong, triumphant, it can win From saddest heart a pure, though humble song. Alas, 1 know not how I should begin j The white page turns to scarlet from within. But love must think on iove, in joy or bane, In bane if it could suocour, oh, how blest! And should it see the One enduring pain, Wrong, ignominy—evil so compress'd, It needis must weep—well knowing who tranegress'd. And, weeping, sink in care's distressful eleep, Fiill of sad imag'ry oft unrestrain'd By Faith or Season, they the watch would keep In Pilate's house with Justice, bound, en•chain'd, While Hate and Envy Heaven's meek Prince arraing'd. And heathen soldiers mcck'd His purple gown, Placing sharp thorns where Mary's fingers met To crush the Spika-nardi for a crown Of regal odours—faintly fragrant yet, Though soon more vital' balm those tresses wet. My spirit piere'd the blackness of that night, Alone and helpless, thus, I saw Love standi — When through the hall a fluter ray of light Fell on a blood-stained cord and touch'd His band— It was the Dawn awaiting His command. As once long since, before it knew the world, And form'd in splendour the Eternal's seat, So now bright spears against the darkness hurl'd Shone in a silver sheen around His feet, * From whence - they grew more luminous and sweet. And He, so stricken, still His Father prais'd, With upturned face —what ruddy stripes were there! — His sun-lit eyes, unwearied as they gazed, Reflected holiness beyond compare, Which, as a wind, made clean the tainted air. Violet do Malortie, in the Commonwealth. Wrote Thomas a Kempis: "It is good for a man to suffer the adversity of this earthly life, for it brings him back to the sacred retirement of the heart, where only he finds he is an exile from his native home, and ought not to place his trust in any worldly enjoyment. It is good for him also to meet the contradiction and reproach ; and to be evil thought of and evil spoken of, even when his intentions are upright and his actions blameless; for this k;eeps him humble, and is a powerful antidote to the poison of vainglory; and then chiefly it is that we have recourse to the witness within us which is God, when we are outwardly despised and held in no degree of esteem and favour among men."