The Folly of Drifting into Marriage

J.R. Miller, published 1913

Among the other drifts of life, many young people merely drift into marriage. The childhood friendships, or the casual associations of youth, are nourished until at length the potent spell of love falls upon the young man and maiden, and by and by there is a wedding. Or, the beginning of the attachment may be a great deal more sudden — "love at first sight!" a speedy engagement, a marriage in a little while — a marriage drifted into, or whirled into, as when a boat is swept down the wild rapids.

The matter of time, longer or shorter, makes little difference — in any case, the marriage is drifted into. There was no serious thought about the meaning of the step and what it involved; no weighing of the responsibilities to be assumed; no questioning as to whether the parties were ready for the serious work before them; no thoughtful study of the way to make the love dreams come true. Yet of all things in life, marriage surely is one of the very last that should ever be drifted into. If there is any step for the taking of which young people ought to make deliberate preparation — this is the step.

If a young man discovers that he has made a mistake in his business, trade, or profession — he can change and take something else, without serious detriment to his future. If a young woman buys a new dress and then concludes that she does not like it — she can discard it, hang it away in the storeroom and get another. If one takes a position, and afterward finds that the place is not satisfactory, nor the work congenial — it is easy to seek another place. But marriage is "for better, for worse, until death us do part." Therefore it should not be entered into unadvisedly or lightly — but reverently, discreetly, in the fear of God, and after most serious thought. It never should be drifted into.

Yet it would seem that for nearly every other step in life, there is more deliberation. For nearly all other duties there is instruction, training. Why should there not be for marriage? Why should not mothers talk thoughtfully to their daughters of the meaning of marriage, of the principles which should guide them in entering the relation, and of the duties which will be theirs when they become wives? Why should not fathers have quiet talks with their sons on the subject, telling them what a husband's duties are, how he must forget himself and live for the happiness of the woman he chooses for his wife, giving up his own selfish ways and unlearning habits he has formed, which prove hindrances to the blending which alone makes wholesome marriage?

Such wise instruction, given in youth, would certainly lead to more thoughtfulness on the subject — and thoughtfulness would prevent many inconsiderate marriages. It is often said that "marriage is a lottery," as if it were necessarily a sort of game of chance.

But there need not be such uncertainty about its outcome, if only young people would give serious attention to the subject before entering into it.

For example, the young man should consider whether the young woman he is interested in is fitted to be his wife. Perhaps it will be necessary for him to live economically, at least for a time. Has this girl had the training which will make her a good poor man's wife? Will she be able so to manage her household affairs, that they can live on the small income he will have? Then will she be willing to live in a plain way, befitting their circumstances, and will she be contented in doing so?

Then, has she the other abilities and qualifications that will make her the dearest woman in the world to him? Are her attractions such as will wear? There is a vast deal more required to make a woman interesting to a man, three hundred and sixty-five days in the year, for forty years or more — than to make her pleasing or winning for an evening, two or three times a week, for a few months.

Then a young man's questioning should not be all on the side of the girl's ability to make him happy, and to be a good, faithful, helpful wife. He ought to be quite as severe regarding himself — whether he is the man to make this woman the husband she needs, whether he can make her happy, and whether he is able to devote himself to the holy task. This should be a really serious question with every young man who asks a girl to be his wife. It means that he must make himself worthy of her in every way; that he must be ready to give up his own preferences in many matters, and live for her.

Then while he makes sure that the girl he is thinking of so warmly, will be ready sweetly to share a plain home and close economy with him as his wife — he must also make sure thathe is ready and that he will be able to provide for her in a way that will not lay too heavy a burden of sacrifice upon her. Too many young men never give serious thought to this phase of the marriage problem. The result is that many a noble girl, willing to share privation and close economies with the man she loves, is taken out of a home of comfort — to endure pinching experiences, and even wretched poverty — because the man who promised to keep, comfort, and cherish her, lacks either the capacity or the energy to provide a comfortable home for her.

Whatever other drifting you do, dear young people, don't drift into marriage!! Know what you are doing!

Directives for Avoiding Dissension in The Home

 Richard Baxter

It is a great duty of husbands and wives to live in quietness and peace, and avoid all occasions of wrath and discord. Because this is a duty of so great importance, I shall first open to you the great NECESSITY of it, and then give you more particular directions to perform it.

(1) Your discord will be your pain, and the vexation of our lives. Like a disease, or wound, or fracture in your own bodies, which will pain you until it is cured; you will hardly keep peace in your minds, when peace is broken so near you in your family. As you would take heed of hurting yourselves, and as you would hasten the cure when you are hurt; so should you take heed of any breach of peace, and quickly seek to heal it when it is broken.

(2) Dissension tends to cool your love; frequent dissension tends to leave a habit of distaste and averseness on the mind. Wounding is separating; and to be tied together by any outward bonds, when your hearts are separated, is but to be tormented; and to have the insides of adversaries, while you have marital outsides. As the difference between my 'home' and my 'prison' is that I willingly and with delight dwell in the one, but am unwillingly confined to the other; such will be the difference between a quiet and an unquiet life, in your married state; it turns your dwelling and delight into a prison, where you are chained to those calamities, which in a free condition you might flee.

(3) Dissension between the husband and the wife, disorders all other family affairs. They are like oxen unequally yoked--which can perform no work, because they are always striving with one another.

(4) It exceedingly unfits you for the worship of God; you are not fit to pray together, nor to confer together of heavenly things, nor to be helpers to each other's souls. I need not tell you this, you feel it by experience. Wrath and bitterness will not allow you so much exercise of love and holy composedness of mind, as every one of those duties requires.

(5) Dissension disables you to govern your families aright. Your children will take example by you; or think they are at liberty to do what they desire, when they find you taken up with such animosity between yourselves. They will think you unfit to reprove them for their faults--when they see you guilty of such faults and folly of your own. Nay, you will become the shame and secret derision of your children, and bring yourselves into contempt.
avoiding dissension in the home

(6) Your dissensions will expose you to the malice of Satan, and give him advantage for manifold temptations. A house divided cannot stand; an army divided is easily conquered, and made a prey to the enemy. You cannot foresee what abundance of sin you put yourselves in danger of.

By all these reasons, you may see what dissensions between husband and wife do tend to.

DIRECTIVES for avoiding dissension in the home

(1) Keep up your marital love in a constant heat and vigor. Love will suppress wrath. You cannot become bitter upon small provocations, against those whom you dearly love; much less can you proceed to reviling words, or to averseness and estrangedness, or any abuse of one another. Or if a breach and wound be unhappily made, the balsamic quality of love will heal it. But when love once cools, small matters exasperate and breed antipathy.

(2) Both husband and wife must mortify their pride and passion, which are the causes of impatience; and must pray and labor for a humble, meek, and quiet spirit. A proud heart is troubled and provoked by every word or action that seems to tend to their undervaluing. A peevish, proud mind is like a sore and ulcerated member--which will be pained if it be touched. He that must live near such a sore, diseased, impatient, proud mind--must live even as the nurse does with the child, that makes it her business to rock it, and lull, and sing it quiet when it cries; for to be angry with it, will do no good. And if you have married one of such a sick or childish temper, you must resolve to bear and use them accordingly. But no Christian should bear with such a malady in themselves; nor be patient with such impatience, pride and haughtiness in themselves. Once get the victory over yourselves, and the cure of your own impatience, and you will easily keep peace with one another.

(3) Agree together beforehand, that when one is in a tempestuous, angry fit, the other shall silently and gently bear it--until it be past and you have come to your senses again. Do not both be angry at the same time. When the fire is kindled, quench it with gentle words and demeanor, and do not cast on more fuel, by answering provokingly and sharply, or by multiplying words, and by answering wrath with wrath.

(4) If you cannot quickly quench the anger in your heart--yet at least refrain your tongues! Speak no reproachful or provoking words. Talking hotly and angrily does blow the fire, and increase the flame. Be but silent, and you will the sooner return to your serenity and peace. Foul words tend to more displeasure. As Socrates said when his wife first railed at him, and next threw a vessel of foul water upon him, "I thought when I heard the thunder, there would come rain"; so you may foretell worse following, when foul, unseeming words begin. If you cannot easily allay your wrath, you may hold your tongues, if you are truly willing.

(5) Let the sober party condescend to speak gently and to entreat the other. Say to your angry wife or husband, 'You know this should not be between us; love must allay it, and it must be repented of. God does not approve it, and we shall not approve it when this heated argument is over. This frame of mind is contrary to a praying frame, and this language contrary to a praying language; we must pray together soon; let us do nothing contrary to prayer now. Sweet water and bitter come not from one spring,' etc. Some calm and humble words of reason, may stop the torrent, and revive the reason which passion had overcome.

(6) Confess your fault to one another, when angry passion has prevailed against you; and ask forgiveness of each other, and join in prayer to God for pardon. This will lay a greater engagement on you the next time, to refrain from argument. You will surely be ashamed to do that which you have so confessed and asked forgiveness for--of God and each other.

If you will but practice these directives, your family peace may be preserved.

The Single Christian's Rule

James Smith

"She is free to marry anyone she wishes — but he must belong to the Lord." 1 Corinthians 7:39

This, though spoken of widows — is the law of Christ in reference to all unmarried Christians, and is imperatively binding upon them.

To slight it — is to slight the authority of Christ;

to reject it — is rebellion against the King of kings and Lord of lords;

and to act contrary to it — is to ensure sorrow, grief, and woe!

Celibacy is not sanctity — though it may, under some circumstances, be preferable to marriage. It is not required by the gospel, and in many instances, cannot be approved by the Lord.

Marriage is lawful — for God has instituted it;
it is honorable — for God commends it;
it is desirable — for God blesses it;
it is instructive — for God speaks by it;
it is profitable — for thereby we become helpers of each other;
and it is sometimes necessary — for the prevention of sin. 

But it must be according to God's Word — "only in the Lord." A Christian may only marry another Christian, for he is to "have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness — but rather reprove them." It is not enough for the other party to . . .
be moral — for morality is not salvation; or
an attendant on the means of grace — for many attend to whom the gospel is a savor of death unto death; or
a hopeful character — for of many it may be said, "They are not far from the kingdom of God," but they never enter it!

It must be a genuine believer, one who is born again by the Holy Spirit, who is in the Lord. That is, a person . . .
who is vitally united to the Lord Jesus;
who lives upon Christ;
who walks with Him in faith and holiness;
who is not ashamed to profess Him;
who adorns the doctrine of Christ his Savior;
a Christian not in word only — but in deed and in truth!

And with no other, can a believer unite . . .
in accordance with God's Word,
under the approving smile of the Holy Spirit, or
with scriptural ground to expect the Lord's blessing.

This command of Christ is plain; no one can misunderstand it — but from willful blindness.

It is imperative; it does not give permission to any one to qualify it, or excuse himself from conforming to it! If you are a Christian — you are solemnly bound to observe it. It is as much a crime to marry an unconverted person — as to steal, or to violate any of the ten commandments.

It is indispensable; no one has authority to set it aside, or to say, "I am not bound by it." If you are a Christian — you are bound by it, and woe unto you if you break it!

It is solemn; for it is a part of that Word by which Jesus will judge us at the last day. Therefore if you are tempted to trifle with it, remember you must be judged by it!

It is reasonable; "for what fellowship has righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion has light with darkness?"

Your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit; but the body of an unbeliever, however moral, or amiable, or lovely — is the temple of Satan, who is preferred and served in preference to God. You are a member of the body of Christ — but every unconverted person is a member of the body of Satan! You are alive to God — every unregenerate person is dead in trespasses and sins. In a word, you . . .
are influenced by different spirits,
are walking in directly opposite roads,
observe contrary rules, and
serve two opposite masters!

"How can two walk together — unless they be agreed?" They cannot with comfort, propriety, or as mutual helps.

The consequences of mixed marriages are generally fearful:
the unconverted partner becomes more hardened in sin;
the converted partner becomes carnalized and debased;
the family affairs cannot be conducted upon strictly Christian principles;
the children cannot be trained up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord;
there can be no family religion, though there may be a degree of the form of it;
and the cause of God must suffer by it.

If therefore, you have any regard for the authority of God,
if you have any concern to please the Lord Jesus Christ,
if you have any fear of grieving the Holy Spirit of God,
if you have any desire to maintain and increase your own spirituality,
if you have any wish to be approved and commended at the judgment of the great day,
if you would not be cruel to the soul of the unconverted person,
if you would not sow the seeds of sorrow, perplexity, and distress,
if you would not make bitter work for repentance —
then observe carefully and to the letter — this law of our Lord Jesus Christ! And when tempted to run counter to it, say, with holy Joseph, "How can I do this great wickedness — and sin against God!"

The Love of Your Espousals

By James Smith

Love is a noble passion, and when fixed upon a worthy object, and wisely reciprocated — it is a source of the sweetest pleasure. God intended Himself to be the highest object of our love; and that He might win back our affections to Himself — He has revealed Himself in Jesus, in the most lovely and attractive form. God in Jesus is love, and only love — unto all who come to Him in His name. He prizes our love, and has therefore entered into every near and dear relation, in order to draw forth and fix our love upon himself. He proposes a union with himself, as near and dear as the marriage union is among men. This was set forth in his dealings with his people of old, and in their attachment to him, alluding to which he says, "I remember the love of your espousals." Jeremiah 2:2.

THE FACT. God and man become united, as does the husband and the wife. Just so it is with Jesus, and those who believe on his name.

Just look at the parties. Israel, a poor, sinful, unworthy people; and the infinitely great and glorious God. So still. On the one side a poor sinner, so insignificant, so base, so vile, so miserable, that it is difficult to set it forth. On the other side, Jesus, the only begotten Son of God, the brightness of His Father's glory, and the express image of His person. Jesus, who is infinitely great, supremely glorious, perfectly holy, and eternally happy. 

Look to the act, "your espousals." Jesus moved first, by His word and Spirit, on the conscience and the affections. Then the sinner moved toward Him with fear, desire, hope, faith, and at length love. 

Then came the agreement, Jesus said, "I will be for you, and you shall be for me." And the soul said, "I am yours, yours only, yours forever!" The union was now formed, the soul was betrothed to the Savior; and by and by, the union will be consummated at the marriage supper of the Lamb. 

THE AFFECTION. "The love of your espousals." There was a love of pity and benevolence before — now there is the love of delight, on the part of Jesus. There may have been a love of gratitude on the part of the sinner — but now it is his purest, strongest love. It is more than filial love, or the love of a child to its parent. It is more than fraternal love, or the love of brother to his brother. It is espousal love, or the love of the espoused one toward Him whom she desired, and preferred to all others. It is love to the person, and the person alone; and such love as leads us to surrender all for Him, and to Him. It is as strong as death — nothing can destroy it. It is more pleasing than all things besides. It is a source of the sweetest, purest, sublimest happiness. 

It is love, near akin to the love of Jesus, being reflected by it, and flowing from it. It is an increasing love, for the more we know of Jesus — the more we love Him, and shall do so, to all eternity. 

Where there is no love, there is no espousal. Jesus never espouses one who does not love Him. He first wins the heart — and then gives the hand. He fixes on the person, determines to be united, wins the affection, and the espousal follows. No espousal — no marriage. If we are not espoused to Jesus while He is away — we shall not be married to Him at His glorious appearing. 

This is the design of the preaching of the gospel, as Paul said to the Corinthians, "I am jealous over you with a godly jealousy; for I have espoused you to one husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ." 

No marriage — no inheritance. We inherit through Jesus, and by virtue of our union with Him. If we are Christ's — then His wealth is ours! And if the wealth of Christ is ours — then we shall possess the kingdom, and reign forever and ever. No possession — no real Heaven. Our Heaven, is having Christ for ours, and being with Him, and enjoying Him forever and ever.

As espoused to Him — we expect to be publicly married; as married to Him — we shall have full and eternal possession of Him; and eternally possessing Him — we shall have a Heaven comprising all we can desire or enjoy!

Reader, are you espoused? Has He taken your hand — and have you given Him your heart? Have you forsaken all besides — to seek your happiness, your all, in him alone? He is worthy of your highest love. He is necessary to your perfect happiness. 

Do you desire to be espoused to Jesus? You may be. Jesus is willing to be the husband, of every soul that desires to be married to Him. He has sent His servants, as Abraham sent Eliezer, to woo and win a wife for Him. He has beauty, He has nobility, He has wealth. In Him dwells, and dwells in perfection — all that is necessary to meet the wants, wishes, or desires of anyone, and everyone who is willing to be holy and happy. 

Espoused to Jesus — your fortune is made. You have an ever-living, ever-loving, never-changing husband. He will never leave, never forsake, never fail you. He will . . .
guide you with His eye, 
guard you with His hand,
and satisfy you with His love.

O happy, happy soul, that is espoused to Jesus!

Holy and eternal Spirit, lead every reader to Jesus, unfold His beauty, reveal His love — and so win the heart; and may the reading of these few remarks lead some to love Jesus, to give their hearts to Jesus, and so join themselves to Jesus in an everlasting covenant, which shall neither be forgotten nor broken!

Three Rules for a Happy Marriage

J. C. Ryle  "The Gospel of Mark" 1857 Of all relationships of life, none ought to be regarded with such reverence, and none taken in hand so cautiously as the relationship of husband and wife. In no relationship is so much earthly happiness  to be found, if it be entered upon discreetly, advisedly, and in the fear of God. In none is so much misery seen to follow, if it be taken in hand unadvisedly, lightly, wantonly, and without thought. From no step in life does so much benefit come to the soul, if people marry "in the Lord." From none does the soul take so much harm, if fancy, passion, or any mere worldly motive is the only cause which produce the union. There is, unhappily, only too much necessity for impressing these truths upon people. It is a mournful fact, that few steps in life are generally taken with so much levity, self will, and forgetfulness of God as marriage. Few are the young couples who think of inviting Christ to their wedding! It is a mournful fact that unhappy marriages are one great cause of the misery and sorrow of which there is so much in the world. People find out too late that they have made a mistake, and go in bitterness all their days. Happy are they, who in the matter of marriage observe three rules:  The first is to marry only in the Lord, and after prayer for God's approval and blessing. The second is not to expect too much from their partners, and to remember that marriage is, after all, the union of two sinners, and not of two angels. The third rule is to strive first and foremost for one another's sanctification. The more holy married people are, the happier they are.

The Marriage Altar—and After

J. R. Miller, 1880

The preparations are all at last made. The bridal dress is completed. The day has been fixed. The invitations have been sent out. The hour comes. Two young hearts are throbbing with love and joy. A brilliant company, music, flowers, a solemn hush—as the happy pair approach the altar, the repetition of the sacred words of the marriage ceremony, the clasping of hands, the mutual covenants and promises, the giving and receiving of the ring, the final "Whom God has joined together—let not man put asunder," the prayer and blessing—and the twain are one flesh. There are tears and congratulations, hurried good-byes, and a new bark puts out upon the sea, freighted with high hopes. God grant it may never be dashed upon any hidden rock and wrecked!

Marriage is very like the bringing together of two instruments of music. The first thing, is to get them keyed to the same pitch. Before a concert begins you hear the musicians striking chords and keying their instruments, until at length they all perfectly accord. Then they come out and play some rare piece of music, without a discord or a jar in any of its parts.

No two lives, however thorough their former acquaintance may have been, however long they may have moved together in society or mingled in the closer and more intimate relations of a ripening friendship, ever find themselves perfectly in harmony on their marriage-day. It is only when that mysterious blending begins after marriage, which no language can explain—that each finds so much in the other that was never discovered before. There are beauties and excellences that were never disclosed, even to love's partial eye, in all the days of familiar intimacy.

 There are peculiarities and blemishes which were never seen to exist—until they began to make themselves manifest within the veil of the matrimonial temple. There are incompatibilities that were never dreamed of—until they were revealed in the abrasions of domestic life. There are faults which neither even suspected, in the temper and habits of the other!

Before marriage young people are on their good behavior. They do not exhibit their infirmities. Selfishness is hidden under garments of courtesy and gallantry. Each forgets SELF—in romantic devotion to the other. The voice is softened and made tender, and even tremulous, by love. The music flows with a holy rhythm mellowed by affection's gentleness. Everything that would make an unfavorable impression, is scrupulously put under lock and key. So there is harmony of no ordinary sweetness made by the two young lives, unvexed by one discordant note.

Marriage is a great mystery. "The twain shall be one flesh" is no mere figure of speech. Years of closest, most familiar, most unrestrained intimacy, bring lives very close together—but there is still a separating wall which marriage breaks down. The two lives become one. Each opens every nook, every chamber, every cranny, to the other. There is a mutual interflow, life pouring into life.

There may have been no intention on the part of either, to deceive the other in the smallest matter, or to cloak the smallest infirmity. But thedisclosure could not, in the very nature of things, have been any more perfect. Each stood in the porch of a house, or at the most sat in itsparlor, never entering any of the inner rooms. Now the whole house is thrown open, and many hitherto unsuspected things are seen!

Too often the restraint seems to fall off, when the matrimonial chain is riveted. No effort is longer made to curb the bad tempers and evil propensities. The delicate robe of politeness is torn away, and many a rudeness appears. It seems to be considered no longer necessary, to continue the old thoughtfulness. Selfishness begins to assert itself. The sweet amenities of the wooing-days are laid aside—and the result is unhappiness! Many a young bride cries herself sick half a dozen times, before she has been a month a bride, and wishes she were back in the bright, happy home of her youth! Oftentimes both the newly-wedded pair become discouraged, and think in their hearts that they have made a mistake!

And yet there is really no reason for discouragement. The marriage may yet be made happy. There is need only for large and wise patience. The two lives require only to be brought into harmony, and love's sweetest music will flow from two hearts in tender unison. But there are several rules which must always be remembered and observed.

Why, for instance, should either party, after the wedding-day, cease to observe all the sweet courtesies, little refinements and charming amenities of the courtship-days? Why should a man be polite all day to everyone he meets—even to the porter in his store, and the bootblack or newsboy on the street—and then less polite to her who meets him at his door with yearning heart hungry for expressions of love? If things have gone wrong with him all day, why should he carry his gloom to his home to darken the joy of his wife's tender heart? Or why should the woman who used to be all smiles and beauty and adornment and perfume when her lover came, meet her husband now with disheveled hair, soiled dress, slovenly manner and face all frowns? Why should there not be a resolute continuance of the old politeness and mutual desire to please—which made the wooing-days so sunny?

Then love must be lifted up out of the realm of the passions and senses—and be spiritualized. There should be converse on the higher themes of life. Many people are wedded only at one or two points. Their natures know but the lower forms of pleasure and fellowship. They never commune on any topic, but the most earthy. Their intellectual parts have no fellowship. They never read nor converse together on elevated themes. There is no commingling of mind with mind; they are dead to each other, in that higher region.

Then still fewer are wedded in their highest, their spiritual natures. The number is small, of those who commune together concerning the things of God, the soul's holiest interests and the realities of eternity. No marriage is complete—which does not unite and blend the wedded lives at every point. Husband and wife should be wedded along their whole nature.

This implies that they should read and study together, having the same line of thought, helping each other toward higher mental culture. It implies also that they should worship together, communing with one another upon the holiest themes of life and hope. Together they should bow in prayer, and together work in anticipation of the same blessed home beyond this life of toil and care. I can conceive of no true and perfect marriage, whose deepest joy does not lie forward in the life to come.

Perfect mutual confidence is an element of every complete marriage. Husband and wife should live but one life, sharing all of each other's cares, joys, sorrows and hopes. There should not be a corner in the nature and occupation of either—which is not open to the other. The moment a man has to begin to shut his wife out from any chapters of his daily life he is in peril; and in like manner her whole life should be open to him. There should be a flowing together of heart and soul in close communion and perfect confidence. No discord can end in harm—while there is such mutual inter-sphering of lives and such inter-flowing of souls.

Once more, no third party should ever be taken into this holy of holies. No matter who it is—the sweetest, gentlest, dearest, wisest mother; the purest, truest, tenderest sister; the best, the loyalest friend—no one but God should ever be permitted to know anything of the secret, sacred married life, that they twain are living. This is one of those relations with which no stranger, though he be the closest bosom friend, should intermeddle. Any alien touch is sure to leave a blight.

There are certain influences that bring out all the warmth and tenderness needed to make any marriage very happy. When one is sick, how gentle and thoughtful it makes the other! Not a want or wish is left unsupplied. All the heart's affections—long slumbering, perhaps—are awakened and become intent on most kindly ministry. No service is thought a hardship now, or done with any show of reluctance. There is not a breath or look of impatience. Love flows out in tone and look and word and act. There is an inexpressible tenderness in all the bearing. Even the coldest natures become gentle in the sick-room, and the rudest, harshest manners become soft and warm at the touch of suffering in the beloved one.

Or let death come to either, and what an awakening there is of all that is holiest and tenderest and sweetest in the heart of the other! If the dead could be recalled and the wedded life resumed, would it not be a thousand times more loving than ever it was before? Would there be any more the old impatience, the old selfishness? Would there not be the fullest sympathy, the largest forbearance, the warmest outflow of the heart's most kindly feelings?

And why may not married life be lived day by day, under the power of this wondrous influence? Why wait for suffering in the one we love—tothaw out the heart's tenderness, to melt the icy chill of neglect and indifference, and to produce in us the summer fruits of affection? Why wait for death to come—to reveal the beauty of the plain life that moves by our side, and disclose the value of the blessings it enfolds for us? Why should we only learn to appreciate and prize love's splendors and its sweetness—as it vanishes out of our sight?

Why should the empty chair—be the first revealer of the real worth of those who have walked so close to us? Why should sorrow over our loss—be the first influence to draw from our hearts, the tenderness and the wealth of kindly ministries that lie pent up in them all the while? Surely, wedded life should call out all that is richest, truest, tenderest, most inspiring and most helpful in the life of each. This is the true ideal of Christian marriage. Its love is to be like that of Christ and his Church. It should not wait for the agony of suffering or the pang of separation to draw out its tenderness—but should fill all its days and nights with unvexed sweetness!

There are many such marriages. Few more beautiful pictures of wedded love were ever unveiled, than that which was lived out in the home of Charles Kingsley. His wife closes her loving memoir with these words, "The outside world must judge him as an author, a preacher, a member of society—but those only who lived with him in the intimacy of every-day life at home—can tell what he was as a man. Over the real romance of his life, and over the tenderest, loveliest passages in his private letters—a veil must be thrown—but it will not be lifting it too far to say that if in the highest, closest of earthly relationships, a love that never failed—pure, patient, passionate—for thirty-six years—a love which never stooped from its own lofty level—to a hasty word, an impatient gesture or a selfish act, in sickness or in health, in sunshine or in storm, by day or by night, could prove that the age of chivalry has not passed away forever—then Charles Kingsley fulfilled the ideal of a 'most true and perfect knight' to the one woman blessed with that love in time, and to eternity. To eternity, for such love is eternal, and he is not dead. He himself, the man, the lover, husband, father, friend—he still lives in God, who is not the God of the dead—but of the living."

And why should, not every marriage in Christ, realize all that lies in this picture? It is possible, and yet only noble manhood and womanhood, with truest views of marriage and inspired by the holiest love, can realize it

Master and Servant - D. L. Moody

There is a very sweet story of Elijah and Elisha, and I love to dwell upon it. The time had come for Elijah to be taken up, and he said to Elisha, “You stay here at Gilgal, and I will go up to Bethel.” There was a theological seminary there, and some young students, and he wanted to see how they were getting along; but Elisha said, “As the Lord liveth, and thy soul liveth, I will not leave thee.” And so Elisha just kept close to Elijah. They came to Bethel, and the sons of the prophets came out and said to Elisha, “Do you know that your master is to be taken away?” And Elisha said, “I know it; but you keep still.” Then Elijah said to Elisha, “You remain at Bethel until I go to Jericho.” But Elisha said, “As the Lord liveth and my soul liveth, I will not leave thee.” “You shall not go without me,” says Elisha; and then I can imagine that Elisha just put his arm in that of Elijah, and they walked down together. I can see those two mighty men walking down to Jericho, and when they arrived there, the sons of the prophets came and said to Elisha, “Do you know that your master is to be taken away?” “Hush! keep still,” says Elisha, “I know it.” And then Elijah said to Elisha, “Tarry here awhile; for the Lord hath sent me to Jordan.” But Elisha said, “As the Lord liveth and my soul liveth, I will not leave thee.

 You shall not go without me.” And then Elisha came right close to Elijah, and as they went walking down, I imagine Elisha was after something; when they came to the Jordan, Elijah took off his mantle and struck the waters, and they separated hither and thither, and the two passed through like giants, dry-shod, and fifty sons of the prophets came to look at them and watch them. They didn’t know but Elijah would be taken up right in their sight. As they passed over Jordan, Elijah said to Elisha, “Now, what do you want?” He knew he was after something. “What can I do for you. Just make your request known.” And he said, “I would like a double portion of thy Spirit.” I can imagine now that Elijah had given him a chance to ask; he said to himself, “I will ask for enough.” Elisha had a good deal of the Spirit, but, says he, “I want a double portion of thy Spirit.” “Well,” says Elijah, “if you see me when I am taken up, you shall have it.” Do you think you could have enticed Elisha from Elijah at that moment?

 I can almost see the two arm in arm, walking along, and as they walked, there came along the chariot of fire, and before Elisha knew it, Elijah was caught up, and as he went sweeping towards the throne, the servant cried, “My Father! My Father! The chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof!” Elisha saw him no more. He picked up Elijah’s fallen mantle, and returning with that old mantle of his master’s, he came to the Jordan and cried for Elijah’s God, and the waters separated hither and thither, and he passed through dry-shod. Then the watching prophets lifted up their voices and said, “The Spirit of Elijah is upon Elisha;” and so it was, a double portion of it.

May the Spirit of Elijah, beloved reader, be upon us. If we seek for it we will have it. Oh, may the God of Elijah answer by fire, and consume the spirit of worldliness in the churches, burn up the dross, and make us whole-hearted Christians. May that Spirit come upon us; let that be our prayer in our family altars and in our closets. Let us cry mightily to God that we may have a double portion of the Holy Spirit, and that we may not rest satisfied with this worldly state of living, but let us, like Sampson, shake ourselves and come out from the world, that we may have the power of God.

The Blessings of Freedom In Christ By D. L. Moody

The next thing the Spirit of God does is to give us liberty. He first imparts love; He next inspires hope, and then gives liberty, and that is about the last thing we have in a good many of our churches at the present day. And I am sorry to say there must be a funeral in a good many churches before there is much work done, we shall have to bury the formalism so deep that it will never have any resurrection. The last thing to be found in many a church is liberty.

If the Gospel happens to be preached, the people criticise, as they would a theatrical performance. It is exactly the same, and many a professed Christian never thinks of listening to what the man of God has to say. It is hard work to preach to carnally-minded critics, but “Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.”

Very often a woman will hear a hundred good things in a sermon, and there may be one thing that strikes her as a little out of place, and she will go home and sit down to the table and talk right out before her children and magnify that one wrong thing, and not say a word about the hundred good things that were said. That is what people do who criticise.

God does not use men in captivity. The condition of many is like Lazarus when he came out of the sepulcher bound hand and foot. The bandage was not taken off his mouth, and he could not speak. He had life, and if you had said Lazarus was not alive, you would have told a falsehood, because he was raised from the dead. There are a great many people, the moment you talk to them and insinuate they are not doing what they might, they say: “I have life. I am a Christian.” Well, you can’t deny it, but they are bound hand and foot.

May God snap these fetters and set His children free, that they may have liberty. I believe He comes to set us free, and wants us to work for Him, and speak for Him. How many people would like to get up in a social prayer-meeting to say a few words for Christ, but there is such a cold spirit of criticism in the Church that they dare not do it. They have not the liberty to do it. If they get up, they are so frightened with these critics that they begin to tremble and sit down. They can not say anything. Now, that is all wrong. The Spirit of God comes just to give liberty, and wherever you see the Lord’s work going on, you will see that Spirit of liberty. People won’t be afraid of speaking to one another. And when the meeting is over they will not get their hats and see how quick they can get out of the church, but will begin to shake hands with one another, and there will be liberty there. A good many go to the prayer-meeting out of a mere cold sense of duty. They think “I must attend because I feel it is my duty.” They don’t think it is a glorious privilege to meet and pray, and to be strengthened, and to help some one else in the wilderness journey.

What we need to-day is love in our hearts. Don’t we want it? Don’t we want hope in our lives? Don’t we want to be hopeful? Don’t we want liberty? Now, all this is the work of the Spirit of God, and let us pray God daily to give us love, and hope, and liberty. We read in Hebrews, “Having, therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.” If you will turn to the passage and read the margin—it says: “Having, therefore, brethren, liberty to enter into the holiest.” We can go into the holiest, having freedom of access, and plead for this love and liberty and glorious hope, that we may not rest until God gives us the power to work for Him.

If I know my own heart to-day, I would rather die than live as I once did, a mere nominal Christian, and not used by God in building up His kingdom. It seems a poor empty life to live for the sake of self.

Let us seek to be useful. Let us seek to be vessels meet for the Master’s use, that God, the Holy Spirit, may shine fully through us.

“Know, my soul, thy full salvation;

Rise o’er sin, and fear, and care;

Joy to find, in every station,

Something still to do or bear.

Think what Spirit dwells within thee;

Think what Father’s smiles are thine;

Think that Jesus died to win thee:

Child of heaven, canst thou repine?

Haste thee on from grace to glory,

Armed by faith, and winged by prayer,

Heaven’s eternal day’s before thee:

God’s own hand shall guide thee there.

Soon shall close thy earthly mission,

Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days,

Hope shall change to glad fruition,

Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.”

“I am so weak, dear Lord! I can not stand

One moment without Thee;

But oh, the tenderness of Thy enfolding,

And oh, the faithfulness of Thine upholding,

And oh, the strength of Thy right hand!

That strength is enough for me.

I am so needy, Lord! and yet I know

All fullness dwells in Thee;

And hour by hour that never-failing treasure

Supplies and fills in overflowing measure

My last and greatest need. And so

Thy grace is enough for me.

It is so sweet to trust Thy word alone!

I do not ask to see

The unveiling of Thy purpose, or the shining

Of future light on mysteries untwining;

Thy promise-roll is all my own—

Thy word is enough for me.

There were strange soul-depths, restless, vast, and broad,

Unfathomed as the sea,

An infinite craving for some infinite stilling;

But now Thy perfect love is perfect filling!

Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God,

Thou, Thou art enough for me!”

THE TRIUMPHS OF HOPE By D.L. Moody

In the fifteenth chapter of Romans, thirteenth verse, the Apostle says: “Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost.” The next thing then is hope.

Did you ever notice this, that no man or woman is ever used by God to build up His kingdom who has lost hope? Now, I have been observing this throughout different parts of the country, and wherever I have found a worker in God’s vineyard who has lost hope, I have found a man or woman not very useful. Now, just look at these workers. Let your mind go over the past for a moment. Can you think of a man or woman whom God has used to build His kingdom who has lost hope? I don’t know of any; I never heard of such an one. It is very important to have hope in the Church; and it is the work of the Holy Ghost to impart hope. Let Him come into some of the churches where there have not been any conversions for a few years, and let Him convert a score of people, and see how hopeful the Church becomes at once. He imparts hope; a man filled with the Spirit of God will be very hopeful. He will be looking out into the future, and he knows that it is all bright, because the God of all grace is able to do great things. So it is very important that we have hope.

If a man has lost hope, he is out of communion with God; he has not the Spirit of God resting upon him for service; he may be a son of God, and disheartened so that he can not be used of God. Do you know there is no place in the Scriptures where it is recorded that God ever used even a discouraged man. Some years ago, in my work I was quite discouraged, and I was ready to hang my harp on the willow. I was very much cast down and depressed. I had been for weeks in that state, when one Monday morning a friend, who had a very large Bible class, came into my study. I used to examine the notes of his Sunday-school lessons, which were equal to a sermon, and he came to me this morning and said, “Well, what did you preach about yesterday?” and I told him. I said, “What did you preach about?” and he said that he preached about Noah. “Did you ever preach about Noah?” “No, I never preached about Noah.” “Did you ever study his character?” “No, I never studied his life particularly.” “Well,” says he, “he is a most wonderful character. It will do you good. You ought to study up that character.” When he went out, I took down my Bible, and read about Noah; and then it came over me that Noah worked 120 years and never had a convert, and yet he did not get discouraged; and I said, “Well, I ought not to be discouraged,” and I closed my Bible, got up and walked down town, and the cloud had gone. 

I went down to the noon prayer-meeting, and heard of a little town in the country where they had taken into the church 100 young converts; and I said to myself, I wonder what Noah would have given if he could have heard that; and yet he worked 120 years and didn’t get discouraged. And then a man right across the aisle got up and said, “My friends, I wish you to pray for me; I think I’m lost;” and I thought to myself, “I wonder what Noah would have given to hear that.” He never heard a man say, “I wish you to pray for me; I think I am lost,” and yet he didn’t get discouraged! Oh, children of God, let us not get discouraged; let us ask God to forgive us, if we have been discouraged and cast down; let us ask God to give us hope, that we may be ever hopeful. It does me good sometimes to meet some people and take hold of their hands; they are so hopeful, while other people throw a gloom over me because they are all the time cast down, and looking at the dark side, and looking at the obstacles and difficulties that are in the way.