The Child at Play.—A little boy was running about in an apartment, amusing himself as children are accustomed to do. His money was potsherds, his house bits of wood, his horse a stick, and his child a doll. In the same apartment sat his father, at a table, occupied with important matters of business, which he noted and arranged for the future benefit of his young companion. The child frequently ran to him, asked many foolish questions, and begged one thing after another as necessary for his diversion. The father answered briefly, did not intermit his work, but all the time kept a watchful eye over the child to save him from any serious fall or injury. Gotthold was a spectator of the scene, and thought with himself: “How beautiful an adumbration of the fatherly care of God! We, too, who are old children, course about in the world, and often play at games which are much more foolish than those of our little ones; we collect and scatter, build and demolish, plant and pluck up, ride and drive, eat and drink, sing and play, and fancy that we are performing great exploits, well worthy of God’s special attention. Meanwhile, however, the Omniscient is sitting by, and writing our days in his book. He orders and executes all that is to befall us, overruling it for our best interests in time and in eternity; and yet his eye never ceases to watch over us, and the childish sports in which we are engaged, that we may meet with no deadly mischief.”
“My God! such knowledge is too wonderful for me. It is high, and I can not attain unto it; but I shall thank and praise thee for it. O, my Father! withhold not from me thy care and inspection, and, above all, at those times when, perhaps, like this little one, I am playing the fool!”—From Gotthold’s “Emblems.”
[October 12.]
Thus all history is swallowed up in boundless sorrow and remorse for that he is still laden with his boundless infirmity. But he hath delight and joy in that he seeth that the goodness of God is as great as his necessities, so that his life may well be called a dying life, by reason of such his griefs and joys, which are conformable and like unto the life of our Lord Jesus Christ, which from beginning to end was always made up of mingled grief and joy. Grief in that he left his heavenly throne and came down into this world; joy in that he was not severed from the glory and honor of the Father. Grief in that he was the son of man; joy in that he nevertheless was and remained the Son of God. Grief, because he took upon him the form of a servant; joy in that he was nevertheless a great Lord. Grief, because in human nature he was mortal, and died upon the cross; joy, because he was immortal, according to his godhead. Grief in his birth, in that he was once born of his mother; joy, in that he is the only begotten of God’s heart from everlasting to everlasting. Grief, because he became in time subject to time; joy, because he was eternal before all time, and shall be so forever. Grief, in that the word was born into the flesh, and hath dwelt in us; joy, in that the word was in the beginning with God, and God himself was the word. Grief, in that it behooved him to be baptized, like any human sinner, by St. John the Baptist, in the Jordan; joy, in that the voice of his heavenly Father said of him: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” Grief, in that, like others, sinners, he was tempted of the enemy; joy, in that the angels came and ministered unto him. Grief, in that he ofttimes endured hunger and thirst; joy, because he is himself the food of men and angels. Grief, in that he was often wearied with his labors; joy, because he is the rest of all loving hearts and blessed spirits. Grief, forasmuch as his holy life and sufferings should remain in vain for so many human beings; joy, because he should thereby save his friends. Grief, in that he must needs ask to drink water of the heathen woman at the well; joy, in that he gave to that same woman to drink of living water, so that she should never thirst again. Grief, in that he was wont to sail in ships over the sea; joy, because he was wont to walk dry shod upon the waves. Grief, in that he wept with Martha and Mary, over Lazarus; joy, in that he raised their brother Lazarus from the dead. Grief, in that he was nailed to the cross with nails; joy, in that he promised paradise to the thief by his side. Grief, in that he thirsted when hanging on the cross; joy, in that he should thereby redeem his elect from eternal thirst. Grief, when he said, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me;” joy, in that he would, with these words, comfort all sad hearts. Grief, in that his soul was parted from his body, and he died and was buried; joy, because on the third day he rose again from the dead, with a glorified body.
Thus was all his life, from the manger to the cross, a mingled web of grief and joy. Which life he hath left as a sacred testament to his followers in this present time, who are converted unto his dying life, that they may remember him when they drink of his cup, and walk as he hath walked! May God help us so to do! Amen.—From Tauler.
[October 19.]
I count it the most grievous offense which the honor of Christianity has to sustain, that some of its ostentatious disciples confine their piety to the Sabbath and its ordinances, and banish God from the week-day employment of ordinary business. Whence that disgusting censoriousness which spreads the tincture of gall over so many a religious conversation? Whence that low tone of honesty and truth, which … is so often found to accompany the uniform appearance, and I believe, too, the occasional reality, of zeal in matters of religion? Whence, in fact, that separation of religious from social duty we so often meet with, not merely in their conception, but in their example and practice?… Alas! against them, too, we can prefer the charge of not “doing all things,” and we can substantiate it. With the mark of godliness upon their forehead, their conduct for the great majority of their time says: “We will not have God to rule over us.” He is only their occasional God. The easy offering of their prayers in the family, or of their attendance in the church and at the table, is ever in readiness. But the living sacrifice of the whole body, soul, and spirit, is withheld from him. He is deposed from his right and sovereignty over every minute of their existence; and instead of his law reaching to all their concerns, and bringing the whole man under its obedience, we see that in the vast majority of their doings they cast him off, and are as much the slaves of their own temper, and inclination, and interest, as if God had not a will for them at all times to obey, and as if Christ had never set an example before them to study and to imitate.
Hold, ye hypocrites! who talk of this as the season that is given to the love of Christ and to the memorial of his atonement! Did not Christ order away a disciple from his altar?—and upon what errand? Upon what you, it seems, would call the very worldly and unsuitable employment of making up a quarrel with a neighbor? Did not Christ say, “If ye love me, keep my commandments?” And yet the minister who expounds these commandments, and presses their observance upon you, is looked upon as preaching another gospel than what Christ left behind him. Oh! when will men cease to put asunder what God hath joined; and taking their lesson from the Bible, as little children, submit to it without a murmur, in all its parts, and in all its varieties!