146 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Feb. 15. 



OUR 



HOMES, 



BY A. I. ROOT. 



We know that we have passed from death unto life 

 because we love the brethren. -I. John S:14. 



Our older readeis are well aware, at least to 

 some extent, of the fact that my Christian life 

 has been made joyous by glimpses every now 

 and then of Scripture texts that shine forth all 

 of a sudden with wonderful new meaning. 

 Sometimes they burst out like a bright mete- 

 or ; and the more I gaze and consider, the 

 more these texts keep unfolding and develop- 

 ing. A few days ago I was thinking that 

 these bright glimpses had not been so fre- 

 quent of late. I have enjoyed my daily Bible- 

 readings, it is true, perhaps more than I ever 

 did before. And, by the way, our Bible-read- 

 ing is in the morning after breakfast, when we 

 are all (or ought to bej at our best. We have 

 been refreshed by abundant sleep — that is, as 

 a rule, and Mrs. Root always gives us a good 

 breakfast. Sometimes I tell her, b)' way of 

 pleasantry, that such a breakfast, when I am 

 traveling, costs 75 cents — that is, a breakfast 

 that satisfies me to that extent. She often re- 

 plies, " All right ; you can give me the 75 cts. 

 while you think of "it." Well, after breakfast 

 I am ready for work. I can go through the 

 factor}-, take up the hard problems, exhort 

 and reprove, if need be, with much better 

 grace than just before dinner. Now, when 

 our powers are at their Vjest who should have 

 the benefit of them ? What is the most impor- 

 tant thing in life ? Jesus answers, "The king- 

 dom of God and his righteousness." There- 

 fore the best time in the world to read the Bi- 

 ble, and, in fact, the most important thing in 

 any day's duties, we owe to God. Perhaps 

 these Bible-readings and morning devotions fit 

 me to catch hold of the wonderful promises 

 when they happen to come before me during 

 the day. Now for our text. 



It was at our Saturday-afternoon prayer- 

 meeting that the lady who presided at the 

 piano repeated these wonderful words : ' ' We 

 know that we have passed from death unto 

 life." In one sense we do not know very- 

 much about death. That is the one thing in 

 this whole wide universe that even the Bible 

 fails to tell us much about. We know more 

 about life, and we realize that the two are di- 

 rectly opposite. In a Scriptural sense we verv 

 soondecide that the word "death " is figura- 

 tive. The death of the body we know little 

 about from personal experience. But there is 

 something I may call spiritual death that we 

 all learn "something of sooner or later. The 

 worlii is full of dead people — people who move 

 about after a fashion, but, compared with real 

 life, I would say real Christian life, their lives 

 are but little more than a living death. Do I 

 speak in enigmas? How about the suicides or 

 the suicide mania, if you choose ? These peo- 

 ple do not appreciate life. Joyous, buoyant, 

 happy life is nothing to them. They are iiot 

 only "willing to throw it away, but ihey delib- 

 erately ptaii to get rid of it. We need not 



read the papers, however, to learn about this- 

 kind of death. I think I shall not make much 

 of a mistake when I say we all knovv some- 

 thing about it. We become low-spirited and 

 despondent ; we have fits of feeling that we 

 do nol care for any thing or anybody. If a 

 neighbor jostles us (.ver so innocently, we feel 

 cross and crabbed about it. If a bright little 

 girl interrupts us with her chatter, we feel 

 cross toward her. Is that true of 30U, my 

 friends? I really hope it is not. Now, if we 

 let these feelings grow upon us our lives are 

 dead ones, comparatively. What does it all 

 mean ? W'here do these feelings come from ? 

 They come from vSatan, the arch fiend, and 

 the enemy of every soii of life. His mission 

 is death. If he can not persuade us that God 

 did us an injury when he gave us a human life 

 to live, and persuade us to throw it away as 

 the suicide does, then he will try to make us 

 go through life in that living death I have 

 tried to tell you about. ] wish I had skill and 

 eloquence enough to picture a Hfe such as 

 God intended we should have and enjoy. 

 When you see a schoolbo)^ after his lessons 

 are well recited and school is out, you get a 

 picture of life — a glimpse of life to buoyant 

 youth. Huber has a sort of workshop in the 

 basement, where he w-orks with electric appa- 

 ratus after school and during evenings. It is 

 nicely warmed by my steam-pipes, and bril- 

 liantly lighted by a iifty-candle-power incan- 

 descent globe. W'hen his plans succeed (and 

 they usually do in the end ) he bursts out into 

 a joyous singing. Sometimes his older sisters 

 remonstrate, and ask him to " let up " a little. 

 When some problem he has worked at a good 

 while succeeds nicely, and the new machine 

 conies fully up to his expectations, his singing 

 sometimes threatens to almost raise the roof. 

 It makes me think of the birds on a June 

 morning. They rai.se their voices in thanks- 

 giving and praise clear up to the very highest 

 notch. They sometimes end abruptly, as if 

 their throats were not sufficient to give utter- 

 ance to the thanksgiving and joy that fill 

 their little hearts. Well, I have sometimes 

 thought the same of Huber, or, if you choose, 

 any other average schoolboy, bubbling over 

 w-itli mirth, merriment, and joyousness, ready 

 for any sort of joke, or ready for any burden- 

 some task to assist mamma. Huber enjoys 

 excellent health, and he is remarkably stout 

 and strong for a boy of fourteen. He enjoj'S 

 every thing. Sometimes when he is exceed- 

 ingly interested in his electric work it is hard 

 to get him to come to supper, and you might 

 think he did not care for supper; but when he 

 comes to the table you would probably change 

 your mind. I have given you a sort of glimpse 

 of life — not alone just mere animal life and 

 spirits, for Huber's happiness is based on the 

 rock Christ Jesus. That is the foundation on 

 which it is all built.* 



* You may say that, in the above, I have taken my 

 picture of life from youth We can not all have youth. 

 True: but we may all have this life, nevertheless. I 

 am fifty-eight years old. Yesterday we had a wed- 

 ding at our house. The day before the wedding was 

 cold and stormy, and the Weather Bureau predicted a 

 cold wave. It was extremely desirable that the ex- 

 haust steam that goes from the factory under my 



