860 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Nov. 15 



friend A. I. Root (for whom you have much 

 love, and in whose judgment you have much 

 confidence), says that you have no right, le- 

 gally or morally, to turn your children out of 

 doors. I know there are trying circumstances. 

 I have seen them; but, notwithstanding, your 

 boy ought to be like your hand or your foot. 

 No matter if it is faulty, and troubles you ex- 

 ceedingly, while there is life in it you do not 

 very often think of dispensing with it ; and 

 you do not often quarrel with a hand or foot, 

 no matter what happens to it. Well, this boy 

 who sometimes tries you is a very part of your- 

 self; and this arrangement of his being a part 

 of yourself is a part of God's own making ; 

 therefore, if you two can not reconcile your 

 differences, go to God in prayer (the God who 

 sent the boy) and tell him your trouble, and 

 let him guide you. This is his arrangement, 

 and he certainly will pilot you safely. 



Well, this boy went off. He took care of 

 himself, and did fairly well. Of course, the 

 mother begged and importuned the foolish 

 father to take back his wicked, unfatherly de- 

 claration, and invite the boy to come home. 

 But he was stubborn and dogged. Oh ! why 

 should a man add folly to folly in thinking it 

 is manly or right in any sense of the word to 

 keep on year after year, sticking to something 

 he has said while angry? Years passed on, 

 but the father would not relent, and the boy 

 would not even come to see his mother with- 

 out his father's invitation. But the mother 

 fell sick. As long as she was able, she begged 

 to see her boy once more. Finally some mu- 

 tual friend wrote the boy how his mother kept 

 begging for him to come, and suggested that, 

 if he would see her again in this world, he 

 had better come quickly. She was near to 

 death. In fact, perhaps the only thing that 

 kept her alive was the desire to see her boy, 

 and I should not wonder if the poor mother 

 with that desire longed to bridge over the 

 trouble that had all these long years existed 

 between father and son. The boy came. Like 

 the prodigal of old, somebody caught sight of 

 him when he was afar off ; but it was not the 

 father, however. They told him to hasten to 

 his mother's bedside. His father stood on one 

 side of the dying woman while the son came 

 up on the other. She could not speak, but 

 she smiled on him and put out her hand. 

 Then turning to the father, the other hand 

 was extended toward him. Of course, he 

 could not object, and the poor mother then, 

 without a word, placed together the hands of 

 both father and son, and the past was forgot- 

 ten and forgiven. Her mission on earth 



was ended. This thing that she had prayed 

 over for years, and the thing that never was 

 accomplished during her life, was brought 

 about by her death. Perhaps nothing but her 

 death could have softened the hearts of these 

 two stubborn men. I do not know whether 

 they were professing Christians or not ; but 

 after this they certainly should have been; and 

 then it would be true to say that she gave^her 

 life — she died that they might live. ' 



Now, dear friends, you have no doubt guess- 

 ed already that this little story (and who shall 

 say it is not a true story?) is a wonderful illus- 



tration of what the dear Savior has done for a 

 sinful world — nay, bring it home still closer — 

 is it not exactly what he has done for you and 

 me ? When nothing but his death could soften 

 our pride and stubborn hearts he died that we 

 might live ? 



A very good friend of mine has, by some 

 unaccountable means — at least unaccountable 

 to me — got an idea in his mind that the New 

 Testament is not to be accepted like the old 

 one. He reads the Bible, and I have been 

 told he has prayers in his family, and yet re- 

 jects Christ as the Son of God. I have been 

 for a good wdiile back planning to have a talk 

 with him, and I think I will tell him this story. 

 I wish to tell him that, away back in the foun- 

 dation of the world, God so loved humanity 

 that he gave his only begotten Son that who- 

 soever believeth in him should not perish but 

 have everlasting life. God's laws, although 

 just and righteous, seem to be hard for sinful 

 humanity to comprehend and live up to with- 

 out help; therefore he graciously gave this 

 Son — this only Son — to be the mediator, as in 

 the language of our text, to plead with hu- 

 manity; and may it not be, also, to plead with 

 God ? to stand between us, if you choose, and 

 finally give his life as did that poor mother, 

 that through his death zve may have life? 



And this story has suggested to me that the 

 mothers are in one sense the mediators. If 

 we heeded these mothers' tears and mothers' 

 prayers as we should do, what a different 

 world this might be ! 



And now, dear friends, if this little talk 

 should lead to a better and kinder relation 

 between any father and the young boys who 

 are just getting to be men, it will gladden my 

 heart to know it ; and still more will it glad- 

 den my heart if this story may make plainer 

 to any one this story of " Jesus and his love." 

 And let me say to the boys, too, that, when- 

 ever any of them are tempted to take the name 

 of Jesus in a careless way, and in vain, may 

 the thoughts of that dear dying mother, and 

 the idea that it suggests of the office and mis- 

 sion that Jesus made to this world of sin — 

 may this thought have the effect of checking 

 the tendency to foolish and careless profanity! 





NOTES Of TRAVEL 



4 by a.iroot; r 



On page 550, July 15, I spoke about explor- 

 ing a cave in the vicinity of Flat Rock, Seneca 

 Co., Ohio ; but my travels broke off right then 

 and there, and I now wish to take them up 

 again. 



After my nice dinner and nap I hunted up 

 the locality of the cave. Out in the middle of 

 a field, or at least quite a little distance from 

 the fence, there is a little building of rough 

 boards. When the guide with the keys and 

 two lanterns approached this building to un- 

 lock the door I said : 



" Why, is it possible that this cave is right 

 here on smooth, almost level, ground, without 



