Not soon provoked, however stung and teased,
And, if perhaps made angry, soon appeased.
She rather waives than will dispute her right,
And, injured, makes forgiveness her delight.”
Love everybody. “Beloved,” said John, “if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another.” (1 John 4:11). It is not a question of color, education or social position, but the relationship God has made between us. “And hath made of one blood all nations of men, for to dwell on all the face of the earth.” (Acts 17:26). One of the hieroglyphics of Egypt represents a child with a heart in his hand giving honey to a bee that has no wings with which to fly from flower to flower in quest of honey. The child represents the humility of love, the heart cheerfulness of love, and the giving of honey to the wingless bee the helplessness and worthiness of the object of love. The opportunity to exemplify love in its various forms comes often. Go, my boy, through life scattering flowers in everyone’s pathway. Encourage the struggling, anoint the suffering, assist the needy, and you will break open barred hearts, melt into moral pliability iron wills and lead souls to Christ.
DID I DO MY BEST?
Years ago at Evanston a young man was preparing for the ministry. He was the room-mate of the eloquent Dr. Spencer of the Methodist Episcopal church. He was a frail lad, but a good swimmer. It was his delight to give exhibitions of his skill in the boisterous lake. One night, ten miles out, a steamer with four hundred passengers was wrecked. Next morning all was excitement in the village. Two hundred men volunteered for service, among them this young man. A rope was put around his waist, that his frail body might be recovered should he be killed by the floating pieces of wreckage. Backward and forward he went for six hours, helping to save human life. Through his great familiarity with the surf he was enabled to do more than all the rest together. Out of four hundred passengers, only thirty came through the breakers alive, and of these, seventeen were saved by this youth. Between his journeys he stood before a blazing fire, covered with blankets. But each time an unfortunate one came near the breakers, he threw off his incumbrances and plunged again into the water. At first he wore the rope around his arm, but, coming to a piece of debris to which a drowning person was clinging, the wreckage struck him in the face. The crowd on shore, alarmed for his safety, commenced pulling in the line prematurely, before he had laid hold of the drowning person. Throwing off the rope, he clutched the man and brought him safely ashore. Walking up the beach, he saw a gentleman sitting in an elegant carriage, who had evidently come to the beach with his coachman from his suburban home, and going to him said: “These people have almost killed me and another accident may take my life without my having done my work. Will you consent to manage the rope, not allowing the people to pull until I give the signal? If you do this, you shall have half of the credit for anything I may be able to do.” The gentleman consented, and for five hours managed the rope. The last person saved that day was a man who was coming ashore in a difficult part of the surf, where the bank was high and precipitous. Those who came to this part of the surf were absolutely lost, as it seemed more than a man’s life was worth to save them. This youth saw this man clinging to a piece of wreck while with the other he held a bundle.
A sudden lift of the waves brought the man and the raft into full view, and there streamed out from the bundle a tress of hair. “Cost what it may, I will save that man or die in the attempt,” said he, “he is trying to save his wife.” He ran down the beach, following the retreating wave, kept down as closely as possible to the sand, and let the return wave pound him. When next seen, he was far out in the water. He swam to the piece of raft to which the two were clinging. When within six or eight feet of them, the man cried out: “Save my wife! save my wife!” The brave swimmer said: “Yes, I’ll save your wife and you also.” Fastening his hands in their clothing at the back of their necks, he said: “I can sustain you in the water, but you must swim for your lives and mine. We must push northward to get beyond this dangerous surf, if we are to be saved at all.” To the joy of the spectators, he came safely to shore with both unfortunates, for whom he had so bravely imperilled his life. Into that one day he put the struggle of his life. Finally he collapsed and was put to bed. As his room-mate ministered to him, he looked up and said, “Did I do my best? Did I do my best?” Yes, he did his best as true love always does. There is no journey too long, no effort too hard, no suffering too intense, no sacrifice too great for it to make. As with this youth, so may it be with your—
“impassion’d soul;
Not as with many a mere part