November 1929
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“thorough gentleman” ; schoolgirls pro nounce him “splendid.” But an old Arab, a donkey-driver of Cairo, once gave a much finer illustration of the feeling to ward women which should characterize a gentle man. An English lady asked him if Abdel Kadir, the Arab general taken prisoner by the French in Algiers, was coming to Cairo. He replied that he did not know, and then asked if the chief were not “a kuhlbenat” (a brother of girls). “I do not know if he has sisters,” prosaically answered the lady. “The Arabs, O lady,” said the old donkey- driver, “call that man ‘a brother of girls’ to whom God has given a clean heart to love all women as his sisters, and strength and courage to fight for their protection.” —Christian Age. John 1 Wesley’s mother once wrote to him when he was in college: “Would you judge of the lawfulness of a pleasure, take this, rule: Whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, or takes away the relish of spiritual things; whatever increases the authority of your body over your mind, that thing is sin.” “My boy,” said a father to his son, “treat everybody with politeness, even those who are rude to you ; for remember that you show courtesy to others not be cause they are gentlemen, but because you are one.” During the South African War there was a meeting held for Christian sol diers on the veldt. A big Highlander said a few words: “Now, look here, chums, tell me why didn’t the lions eat' Daniel?” There was a pause. “Well, I’ll tell you,” said the speaker; “it was because Daniel was three parts backbone, and all the rest gristle” ; and then for a minute or two he “rubbed it in.” “Put backbone into your Christianity, comrades. Be like Dan iel, and God will give you all the needed strength to stand against temptation, and to overcome sin” (Dan. 1:8; 6:22). “Add tp your faith courage” (2 Pet. 1:5). An English chaplain tells of meeting, on a channel steamer, an officer with whom he became intimate. The officer confided that he was going home to shoot his wife. The clergyman, shocked, asked his reason. The reason was: “While I have been away fighting, she has been unfaithful to me, and acknowl edges it.” The clergyman looked him in the eye and demanded: “Can you cross your heart and say that you have not been unfaithful to her?” “No, I cannot say that,” was the reply; “but that is a very different matter.” And because so many people think that way, we have. plays and fiction, and actual human trag edies, in which the woman is disgraced while her paramour draws millions as a movie star, or holds high business or political office, and is received into good society.
ing so blesses the man who prays as the praise which he offers. I got a great blessing once in China in this connection. I had received bad and sad news from home, and deep shadows had covered my soul. I prayed, but the darkness did not vanish. I summoned myself to endure, but the darkness only deepened. Just then I went to an inland station and saw on the wall of the mission house these words: “Try Thanksgiving.” I did, and in a moment every shadow was gone, not to return. Most people pray little, but praise less. If other things have seemed to fail, let us “try thanksgiving.”—i Rev. Henry W. Frost, in the “Sunday School Times." The head of the family at the morning meal asked the blessing as usual, thank ing the Lord for the things so bountifully provided. Immediately afterwards, as was his bad habit, he began to grumble about hard times, the poor quality of the food he was forced to eat, the way it was cooked, and much more. His little daugh ter interrupted him: “Father, do you sup pose God heard what you said a little while ago?” “Certainly”—-with the con fident air of an instructor. “And did He hear what you said about the bacon and the coffee?” “Of course”—not quite so confidently. “Then, father, which did God believe ?”— Onward. There are great numbers of people who ought to move on November 25. They are living in a bad atmosphere, poor houses and gloomy surroundings on Grumbling Street. But we know a good street where, strange to say, there are plenty of houses to let. The air is pure and invigorating, the water is sweet and wholesome, the houses are good, and the street lies toward the sun, so that its genial rays are felt all day long. The street is Thanksgiving Avenue, a boule vard extension of Faith Street. Move out, my friend, from Grumbling Street, and take one of those pleasant unoccupied houses on Thanksgiving Avenue. What Gratitude Is: —It is The music of heaven in the soul. One of the fairest and most useful flowers in the garden of the soul. An assemblage of graces—the gathered honey of the choicest flowers. A mirror of the soul, reflecting the image of its several benefits. A bright rainbow in our spiritual at mosphere, displaying the various odors of the rays that call it into being. Like the orange tree dropping its gold en fruit upon the earth whence it de rives its nutriment. Like the verdant willow bending grace fully its boughs to kiss the waters that refresh its roots. Like a tidal wave returning all its gatherings to the ocean whence it flowed. Like a sunbeam sparkling on the wa ters, and then darting oy reflection heavenward. Like an infant with its joyous counte nance smiling back its mother’s love. An awakened echo in the heart, responding to the voice of its benefactor. The vibration of the soul’s harp- strings under the soft touch of God’s benevolence.
To the Point “1 am enjoying the paper and recommend it to others.” —A Canadian Subscriber.
November 24, 1929 Thanksgiving Through Thanks-Living Psa. 116:12-14, 17-19. D aily R eadings Nov. 18. Great Gratitude. Acts 2:44-47. Nov. 19. Vocal Thanksgiving. Ps. 103:1-5. Nov. 20. Thanks-living. Rom. 6:15-23. Nov. 21. Job’s Life. Job 29:11-16. Nov. 22. Love-living. 1 John 3:16-18. Nov. 23. Peace-living: Eph. 4 :l- 6 . »—o— C hoice N uggets For the fruit of the time of our toil; For whate’er we have fought f or ; Whether born of the brain or the soil Be the need we have sought f or ; For the gifts we have had from His hand Who is Lord of the living, Let there ring through the length of the land A Thanksgiving! A Thanksgiving! —Clinton Scollard. At one of the afternoon meetings at Keswick one summer, when Dr. Griffith Thomas was the speaker, torrential raiii beating upon the canvas of the tent threatened to cause disappointment by making the words ’from the platform in audible. But when Dr. Thomas arose he asked the congregation to repeat aloud the words: “This is the day that the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” As some workers were decorating a church with flowers and fruit for the Harvest Festival Sunday, an Old lady entered the church rather late, bearing a huge parcel in her arms. She explained that her late arrival was due to the fact that she had had to walk nearly three miles, from a neighboring village. “I am a stranger to you all,” she said, “but last week I heard you were having a Harvest Thanksgiving here, and I wanted to bring something to my Lord’s house. I’m living in an almshouse, on my old age pension, but about a fortnight ago a friend came to see me and left a few shillings in my hand. I wanted to use that money as a love gift, so I bought flour with it, and made these [here she uncovered two huge white loaves] for you. I thought per haps you would take them and put them somewhere in a corner of the church, in remembrance of Him and His great mercy. God bless you all!” Little more was said, but next morning, when the worshipers had gathered for service, many present were puzzled to find there were no flowers on the Lord’s Table; only a spotless white cloth and two huge white loaves!— Selected.
Nothing so pleases God in connection with our prayer as our praise, and noth
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