T h e K i n g ’ s B u s i n e s s
April 1928
264
Consider the difference in the attitude o f these two men toward all life. After Rossini had rendered William Tell the 500th time, a company of musicians came under his window in Paris and, serenaded him. They put upon his brow a golden crown o f laurel leaves. Àmid all the applause and enthusiasm, Rossini turned to a friend and said, “ I would give all this brilliant scene for a few days of youth and love.” Contrast the melancholy feeling o f Rossini, who had everything that this world could give him, with the joyful experience of Isaac Watts, whose sorrows were great, when he says :
M ay 2, 1928, Text: Prov. 27:2
All down the ages it has been true that when a man goes in search o f the world’s opinion, the chances are that he will hardly find it flattering. There is a fable which tells how the god Mercury, becoming a trifle self-conscious, thought he would like to find out in what esteem men held him. Accordingly, he put on a disguise and strolled along to a sculptor’s workshop. Through the open side o f thé shop he espied a row o f images, himself among them. He was not so foolish, of course,, as to ask point-blank the question he wanted answered; but by adroit detour he compassed an oblique approach upon the matter at issue. After wandering about among the statuary, he asked the price of Jupiter. So and so. Then a like inquiry about a Juno. So much. At length he thought the moment ripe for the vital question. “And how much is Mercury ?” “Well, look here, said the sculptor; “ If you’ll buy Jupiter and Juno, I’ll throw Mer cury in !” M ay 3, 1928 Text: Matt. 25:36 Out o f the legends o f Russia comes the story o f the old grey coat. Outside the walls of Moscow paced to and fro, a sturdy, stalwart soldier o f the Czar’s guard. He was set to protect the life o f the Czar from every possible attack. The time was night. Through the lonely hours he kept his faithful vigil. The night was bitter cold. Then the storm broke. First the rain, then the sleet, then the swift falling snow. He was not fully pre pared for such exposure. Out of the darkness appeared the form o f a Russian peasant. He wore a heavy grey coat. As he approached the Czar’s guard, he discovered that the guard was without a warm coat. The peasant insisted that the guard take the grey coat for protection during the storm. The'guard protested against it; the peasant insisted upon it. Over the protests o f the guard, the peasant took off his warm, grey coat and flung it over the shoulders o f the guard, who paced around the walls o f Moscow unharmed by the wild sleet and snow. Just a few rods away Was the peasant’s cottage. He would hurry to his own fireside, and also escape the storm. But the old grey coat had so warmed his flesh that the cold, cutting winds pierced his lungs, and laid him low with fatal fever. For days he raved in delirium, but just before he passed the portals to his eternal home, he returned to consciousness and said to his w ife: “You do not know Whom I have seen! I have seen Jesus. And wonderful to tell, He had on my old grey coat.” Then the Russian peasant went to his immortal home to find Jesus and his old grey coat. Certainly Christ had on the peas ant’s old grey coat, for it was He who said: “ Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least o f these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”—Bishop T. S. Henderson.
The hill o f Zion yields
A thousand sacred sweets Before we reach the heavenly fields Or walk the golden streets.
Then let our songs abound And every tear be dry. W e’re marching through Immanuel’s ground To fairer worlds on high.
M ay 5, 1928 Text: Rom. 12:10
“ I parked my automobile in an opening beside the street,” says Dr. Brougher. “ It was a little too near a fire plug. There was no other place to park. I was in a hurry and decided to leave it, while I was gone for two minutes. It would have been perfectly safe if someone had been sitting at the wheel of my machine. As I started across the street, a man sitting in his machine saw my dilemma. After I had gone into the office build ing he went across the street and sat at the wheel o f my machine. I came back in less than two minutes? The m'an was a stranger to me. I asked his name. I told him he had done one o f the finest acts of kindness that I had ever had done to me. He smiled and said it was a little thing to do, but he thought it might save me some trouble. I do not know where he lives. I would not know the man if I met him again, but he washed the disciples’ feet. When I drove away I resolved that in the spirit o f Jesus Christ and the inspiration o f this kind act, I would watch diligently for a chance to serve those who needed me for two minutes.” Charles M. Kelley gave us the following story: There once lived, on an island of the Japanese Empire, a very wealthy man with a very kind heart. This man’s home was a large, costly mansion, situated on the summit o f a high hill near the center o f the island. He greatly loved his people. One very dark night a great storm came up, and the angry sea, rising higher and higher, threatened the people’s homes with destruc tion. So, seeing the peril, and desiring to aid the frightened peo ple, this kind-hearted man set about to find a way to direct their attention to the hill on which he lived, that they might flee to it for safety; He could think o f no better way o f doing this than setting fire to his beautiful mansion. This he did, and many of the people, seeing the light o f the burning building, ran to the hill. Thus their lives were saved. So must our lives be, if we are to help souls to God—con sumed with a passion for the lost, “ a burning and a shining light.” By such lives people will be convinced o f the truth, convicted of sin, and attracted to Jesus to find safety and sal vation from the wrath o f God. M ay 6 , 1928 T ext: Jno. 5:35
M ay 4, 1928 T ext: Prov. 16:8
Rossini, of rare genius, had all the best the world could give, yet was unsatisfied, with empty heart; because he had no blessed hope, no fellowship with the spirit of the immortal world—and he is but a name today. Isaac Watts had little o f this world’s honors, yet he rejoiced and sang, being an “heir of immortality,” and his songs have brought joy to millions.
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