July 1928
452
T h e
K i n g ’ s
B u s i n e s s
he was aroused at three o’clock in the morning to go through a desert and to pass a buried city of ancient date. The morning was very dark. His leader and guide was a dark-skinned man who said to him in his own language, “Keep close to me.” As they went through the darkness, the guide first, and Mr. Dal getty following, they talked to each other, and by and by as he looked down at his feet, he could see no road. They seemed to be turning this way and that way, and going on and on, and he feared the way was missed, and in his anxiety of heart he cried, “Where is the way ?” and the guide turned around and said in the words of Christ Himself, “I am the way. There is no way to be seen, but here with me. Follow step by step with me, and the end of the journey will come.” And it came. We need day by day, as life goes on, to concentrate less and less upon the road, and more and more upon the Guide.
J uly 10, 1928 Text: Psa. 19:1
A Frenchman who had won high rank among men of science, yet who denied the God who is the Author of all science, was crossing the great Sahara desert in company with an Arab guide. He noticed, with a sneer, that at times his guide, whatever obstacles might arise, put them all aside and, kneeling in the burning sand, called on his God. Day after day passed, and still the Arab never failed in his supplications. At last, one evening as he rose from his knees, the philosopher asked him, with a contemptuous smile: “How do you know there is a God?” The guide fixed his beaming eyes upon the scoffer for a moment in wonder, and then said solemnly: “How do I know there is a God? How do I know that a man and not a camel passed my hut last night in the darkness? Was it not the print of his feet in the sand? Even so”—and he pointed to the sun whose last rays were flashing over the lonely desert-—“that footprint is not of a man.” Robbie Flockhart used constantly to preach in the streets of Edinburgh, and he told this story. He said: “I had a friend in the army, and he committed some offense in war time, for which he was condemned to be shot. So he said, ‘Robbie, I have to die tomorrow, and as I have a little money, I have made my will and left it to you.’ ‘Thank you,’ I said. The next morning, instead of being taken out to be shot, the soldier received a free pardon; so,” said Robbie, “he got his life and I lost my legacy, for a testament is not of force while the‘testator liveth; he must die to give effect to his will. And,” said Robbie, “our great Testator is dead; we know that He d'ied^-they nailed Him to the cross; therefore, His will stands good; let us go and take the legacy He has bequeathed to us.” On the day in 1874 that David Livingstone was buried in Westminster Abbey, the streets of London were lined with thou sands seeking to pay respect to the memory of the pioneer mis sionary. In the crowd was noticed a poor, old man, unkempt, poorly clad, weeping bitterly. Some one went up and asked' him why he was weeping when all were seeking to honor the illus trious dead. “I’ll tell you why,” the sad old man replied. “Davie [Livingstone] and I were born in the same village, brought up in the day school and Sunday school, worked together at the same loom. But, Davie went that way and I went this; now he is hon ored by the nation, and I am neglected, unknown, and dishon ored. I have nothing to look forward to but a drunkard’s grave.” The choice comes to each one, and that choice determines the course of his life in time as well as his destiny in eternity. J uly 11, 1928 Text: Heb. 9:16-17 J uly 12, 1928 Text: Josh. 24:15
J uly 14, 1928 Text: Isa. 35:4
“Behold,” cries Isaiah, “your God will come with the recom pense of God: then the tongue of the dumb shall sing." A Salva tion Army convert had an appalling lisp; but General Bramwell Booth always encouraged him to give his testimonies, and “I have never forgotten,” says the General, “his farewell quotation of a verse of Cowper’s hymn: “ ‘Then in a nobler, thweeter thong I’ll thing Thy power to thave When thith poor lithping, thtammering tongue Lieth thilent in the grave.’ ”.. .
J uly 15, 1928 Text : 1 Jn. 3 :2
“Face to face with Christ my Saviour ! Face to face, what will it be, When with rapture I behold Him, Jesus Christ who died for me?’Çp
The answer to this question is faintly foreshadowed by a remarkable incident which occurred at a wedding in England, A young man of large wealth and high social position, who had been blinded by an accident when -he was ten years old, and who won University honors in spite of his blindness, had won a beau tiful bride, though he had never looked upon her face. A little while before his marriage, he submitted to a course of treatment by experts, and the climax came on the day of his wedding. The day came, and the presents, and guests. There were present cabinet ministers and generals and bishops and learned men and women. William Montague Dyke, dressed for the wedding, his eyes still shrouded in linen, drove to the church with his father, and the famous oculist met them in the vestry. The bride, Miss Cave, entered the church on the arm of her white-haired father, the admiral, who was all decked out in the blue and lace of the quarter-deck. So moved was she that she could hardly speak. Was her lover at last to see her face that others admired, but which he knew only through his delicate finger tips ? As she neared the altar, while the soft strains of the wedding march floated through thé' church,'her eyeS 'fëll ofi a strange group. Sir William Hart Dyke stood there with his son. Before the latter was the great oculist in the act of cutting away the last bandage. William Montague Dyke took a step forward, with the spasmodic uncertainty of one who cannot believe that he is awake. A beam of rose-colored light from a pane in the chancel window fell across his face, but he did not seem to see it. Did he see
J uly 13, 1928 Text : Jn. 14 :6
A story full of meaning and inspiration was related by Mr. Dalgetty, an Indian missionary. He said that many years ago, away out in the northwest of India, in the land of the five rivers,
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