28 HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL. clothes. On its ugly head he set his beautiful cap; and on its square shoulders he hung his fine velvet jacket. 'Now,' said he to the scare-crow, if you had only got legs instead of that wooden stump, you might have walked away to the town, and had all the folk admire you and make way for you. If you had only real eyes, and not these burned-out holes in the wood, you would look proud of yourself. But you are a stupid bogle,' he cried, 'and cannot even hold your head a bit higher, now you are made a gentleman of.' Then the boy put the cap and jacket on himself, and he walked into the town, holding his head high, and looking about him with pride, because of his clothes; and because of his clothes the people had respect for him, and made way for him. Now, was not that scare-crow, who had only a wooden head, after all the wiser? He never changed his opinion of himself in the slightest, when the fine clothes were put upon him. For was he not in himself still the same old bogle? God wishes us to look well, and He has told us how we may be truly beautiful. We know that the richest dress and the prettiest face cannot please Him, if the person is not good. Goodness shining out in our words and actions, that is the beauty He wishes us to have. As there are many kinds of goodness-the goodness of being truthful, of being kind, &c.-the text takes a short way of naming them all at once. It sums up all possible goodness in one name- -the LORD JESUS CHRIST. He was perfectly good, and so perfectly beautiful. We are to strive to be like Him. Yea, we are to seek to be as like Him in our conduct as if we were He. We are to put on the Lord Jesus Christ. A little girl crept into her mother's room. No one was there. She took a dress of her mother's which was thrown over a chair, and put it on. She then turned down the mirror that she might see herself. As she caught sight of her picture in the glass, she gave a quick laugh, and said, 'I'm mamma.' For long she amused her self by moving about the room, imitating the walk and voice of her mother, and still repeating to herself, 'I'm mamma!' So we are to put on Christ, by behaving like Him. Behaviour is the dress of the soul. One who behaves, just as Christ in His place would do, has put on Christ. That is a robe which becomes every one. It makes us beautiful in the eyes of our friends, and in the sight of God and His angels. It lasts for ever. The longer we wear it, the newer and the more beautiful it grows. Under the light of heaven it will shine with a glory we cannot now imagine. However poor we be, we can get this best robe. We are offered it. We have simply to put it on! D. BURNS. THE SEED. THE DAYSPRING' PICTURE GALLERY. III. THE SEED. THE HE next picture we come to is so well-known as to require very little description. It is divided into five panels. In the upper one you see a man walking along a furrow in a ploughed field, scattering seed with a liberal hand. In the four panels below are represented,-1st, Part of a road which runs along one side of the field. Some seed has fallen there, and a flock of birds are busily employed in picking it off the hard earth. 2nd, A patch of rocky ground, with a few fast-withering ears of wheat growing in the scanty soil. 3rd, A weedy corner of the field, where two or three starved shoots of corn are dying among luxuriant nettles and thistles. 4th, The same field when harvest has come, and the reapers are joyfully binding the golden sheaves of heavy grain. On the frame above are the words, 'A sower went out to sow his seed;' and below, "The seed is the word of God.' You all know the parable which this picture represents, but do you all understand it? Let me try and put its meaning into a story for you. 29 Mr and Mrs Duncan and their four eldest children went to church as usual one Sabbath morning, but found that their own minister was from home, and a stranger was preaching. He was a tall, grave man, and the children thought at first they would not understand him. But, somehow, he interested them as soon as he began to speak. His text was Col. iii. 13, Even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.' He described (as little Annie said afterwards, 'with a tear in his voice') the forgiveness which the Lord Jesus bestows on poor sinners,-full, free, and final. Then he spoke very earnestly to all who had received this pardon, beseeching them to forgive others in the same way,-fully, freely, and ungrudgingly. The eldest of the Duncans, Fanny, a girl of fifteen, was quite moved as she listened to the sermon, and made up her mind to begin next day to be always gentle and loving. She went on to imagine how astonished and delighted people would be when they saw her patience and kindness. Poor Fanny! She was so busy in admiring the picture she drew of herself that she forgot Christ and his forgiving love; and, by the time she reached home, the devil had stolen all the good seed out of her heart. Willy, who sat next Fanny in the pew, was even more impressed than she by the sermon. His mother noticed his struggles to keep back his tears, and prayed silently that her eldest boy might there and then give his heart to the Lord Jesus. For some days it seemed as if her prayer had been granted; he was so bright and loving. But, alas! the next Thursday there was a sad scene, when the baby broke Willy's little ship, which he had just finished rigging. A storm of anger burst over poor Willy's soul, that swept away every recollection of last Sunday's sermon, and left him the same impetuous, passionate boy as before. You see his heart had not been changed: he had no root,' and 'in time of temptation he fell away.' Charlie, the younger boy, listened very attentively in church, and gave a good many 'notes' in the evening at worship. But his thoughts were so full of an essay he was writing, and a geography competition to take place next day, that the good seed could find no place in his heart. It was 'choked with cares and riches and pleasures of this life.' It was very different with little Annie, a sunny child of eight. After the minister had described the forgiveness that Christ bestows, he asked, 'Who will accept this gift to-day,-now?' Little Annie's heart answered, I will.' And the Lord Jesus, the great Sower, who was present in the church sowing the seed by the hand of His servant, smiled upon the little child who was accepting the gift of His love for the first time. Under that gracious smile, the seed took good root in her heart, and bore fruit for many a year. Mrs Duncan used often to thank God as she saw her little girl's face clearing up into a smile after some great provocation had been given her; but even she did not know how hard the struggle sometimes was. When it was hardest, what helped Annie to win the victory was the thought, 'The Lord Jesus forgives me freely and fully;' and then these words rang like bells in her heart, ‘Freely and fully, freely and fully.' Before closing let me mention three ways in which the Bible is like seed. 1. It has a hidden principle of life in it, like the dull seeds you sow in your gardens, which spring up into beautiful green plants. 2. Only God's power can quicken that germ, and draw out that hidden life. The farmer sows his seed, but he can do nothing to make it sprout. He leaves it in the cold, damp ground, trusting God that in a few months a golden harvest wil wave over the field. So men can sow the good seed of the Word, but. only God the Spirit can make it take root in the heart, and bear fruit in the life. 3. There may be a long time between the sowing and the reaping. I have never heard that a farmer, who had been sowing seed all day, came home at night weeping because none of it was growing yet! Why then should those who sow the good seed of the kingdom get discouraged because they have to wait for the harvest? Yet there is this difference: if a certain time passes after the sowing of the natural seed without its sprouting, we know it must have died, and there is no hope of its growing; but as long as the man is alive in whose heart the Word has been sowed, we dare not say there is no hope of its springing up. About a hundred and fifty years ago, a baby was born in London, whom his parents called John. His mother was a very good woman; and though she died when her boy was only seven, she had already given him a great deal of religious instruction. Yet he grew up a very wicked man, went to sea, and became a ringleader in all kinds of evil; so that many would have called his a hopeless case. At last, God sent a fearful storm on his ship. The danger they were in for about a month, and the way God delivered them after they had given themselves up for lost broke the wicked sailor's heart, and John Newton became an eminent servant of Christ. In 1807, after a life of great usefulness, he joined his mother in heaven; and we may be sure the good woman reaped with rejoicing what she had sowed with tears. Perhaps some of you may say, 'I have not much to do with the Bible as the seed: only grown-up people can be sowers.' Think again whether you can help sowing some seed or other every day. And remember that you must have to do with the Bible as seed. For, whether you are a sower or not, your heart is certainly part of the field where the seed is cast. What have you done with the seed sown there last Sabbath? J. B. M. BLESSED are they that labour Then shall they sweetly rest,— Their toils and trials o'er; MILTON may scarcely be classed among the English hymn-writers. Yet, for the sake of one beautiful hymn, which you all know well, you may read this little sketch of the life of the grand poet who wrote the 'Paradise Lost.' Only a part of the hymn is found in the books used at church and school. A few additional verses are given here; they are too long to transcribe in full. 'Let us with a gladsome mind, Let us blaze His name abroad, Who, by His wisdom, did create The painted heavens so full of state: Who did the solid earth ordain Who, by His all-commanding might, And caused the golden-tressèd sun The horned moon to shine by night He, with His thunder-clasping hand, Ever faithful, ever sure. The floods stood still, like walls of brass, While the Hebrew bands did pass: For His mercies shall endure, Ever faithful, ever sure. 32 His chosen people He did bless And to His servant Israel He gave their land therein to dwell: All living creatures He doth feed, And with full hand supplies their need: Let us therefore warble forth MILTON. This hymn was written by Milton when he was only fifteen. When he was but a few years older, he wrote the Hymn on the Nativity. It is not known to every little one as his 'Let us with a gladsome mind' is known. But there are here and there verses so simply beautiful, that even little children may love and keep them in their hearts. 'It was the winter wild, While the heaven-born child, All meanly wrapt, in the rude manger lies; Had doffed her gaudy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize. But He, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace: She, crowned with olive-green, came softly sliding. Peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began: Whispering new joys to the mild ocean; While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. The shepherds on the lawn, Or ere the point of dawn, Sat, simply chatting, in a rustic row. Full little thought they then That the mighty Pan Had kindly come to live with them below. Such music as, 'tis said, But when, of old, the sons of morning sung.' Does all the picture rise before you of the shepherds on the plains of Bethlehem, keeping watch over their flocks by night, when they heard the angels' song?-the beautiful Bible picture of the Divine child cradled in the manger, because there was no room in the inn-of the strange brooding peace in which the whole world was held? for over the earth all wars had ceased in the year when Christ was born. This beautiful hymn is a gladness-which waits you with many other treasures-to love and linger over in the riper years to come. John Milton was born in London, on the 9th day of December, 1608. He was educated with great care by his father, who was himself distinguished as a musical composer. The poet inherited the same genius, and was well skilled in this lovely art. The music of his sweet-stringed lute passed into the music of his verse. strains are purer in melody than the early poetry of Milton. No When he was seventeen he entered Christ's College, Cambridge. He was a diligent student; of a somewhat haughty temper, it is said, yet with a mild, serene beauty of person, which gained him the name of the lady of Christ's College.' In 1632 he retired from the university to his father's country house at Horton in Buckinghamshire; and here, in the sweet leisure of home and rural scenes, he wrote many of his beautiful early poems. A few years after this his mother died. And then Milton left home, and travelled for fifteen months in France and Italy and Switzerland. He returned home no |