his facility. The man promised him a set amount to include his room and hoard. The youth worsted to know what the board was like. The heavy set man responded with a twinkle in his eye, “Well, son, if it’s any help or consolation to you, 1 eat here.” That was all it took. The lad quickly said, “O.K. mister, then I ’ll take the job.” I f our Christianity is going to be palatable to others, it must first of all be real to us. We cannot invite someone else to taste of the sweetness of the honey of God’s Word if first of all it has not provided our own souls with inward joy and made a difference in our lives. “Taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed is the man who trusteth in him.” * The best place to find a helping hand is right at the end of your own wrist. * * * THE SLAVE IS DEAD More than a century ago the slaves of Jamaica were given liberty. On the night of their emancipation, they gathered for a mass celebration. A hand-carved casket of mahogany had been prepared beforehand and they had dug a grave in which to place the symbol of freedom. Then amid great rejoicing they packed all their unhappy reminders of previous bond age and sorrow into the casket. That included whips, torture and branding irons, coarse clothing, the great hats that had been marks of slavery, frag ments of the treadmills, and the hated handcuffs and manacles. They fas tened the lid securely; then at the stroke of midnight the casket was low ered into the grave. The massed thou sands, with joy unspeakable, lifted their voices in a glad song of redemp tion crying, “The slave is dead! The slave is dead!" Perhaps the redeemed sinner may not celebrate his deliver ance by the Lord’s power as drama tically, but none the less we can and should rejoice in the fact that Christ has set us free. As our Saviour Him self declared, “Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.” * *
God makes a promise, faith believes it, hope anticipates it, and patience awaits it. * * * A MODERN I CORINTHIANS 13 Though in the glamour of the public eye, I sway the emotions of men by my articulate oratory or by my silver singing, or by my skillful playing, and then go home and “gripe" because supper is late or because my clothes are old and weren’t made to suit me, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And though I am able to impress others with my vast knowledge of the deep things of the Word of God, and though I am able to accomplish migh ty things through faith so that I be come famous among men as a remover of mountains, and have not the love that reads the deep longings of the hearts around my own family circle, and removes the barriers that grow up in shy and tender hearts, I am nothing. And though in the glamour of pub lic praise I bestow all of my goods to feed the poor, and though I win the name and fame of a martyr by giving up my body to be used for church work, and yet close up like a clam at home or behave like a snapping tur tle, knowing nothing of the glory of giving myself in unstinting self-de nying service to those nearest and dearest, it profiteth me nothing. Love is never impatient, but kind. Love knows no jealousy; love makes no parade, toots no horns, gives itself no airs. Love is never rude; seeks not her own nor fights for her own rights; is never resentful; never imagines that others are plotting evil against her; never broods over wrongs; never ex ults over the mistakes of others, but is truly gladdened by goodness. Love suffers silently, is always trustful, always cheerful, always pa tient. * The only advantage for those who talk of building "a new world" is that they have the same materials God used . . . chaos! 10 * *
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