Sugar and Stones.
We were on our way to the Geneva Christian Endeavor Convention. On our boat was a large-hearted Endeavourer, Rev. F. M. Cooper, of Mississippi. He was standing one day on the promenade deck, with a box of candy in his hand, and below him was the swarming mass of humanity in the steerage.
A sudden impulse seized him, and he flipped a piece of candy down among the dirty, tousled, Italian children. The candy hit a little fellow on the hand, and he began to bawl lustily, not at all understanding the nature of the missile. But his mother understood, put it in his mouth, and at once his tears were replaced by a grin of satisfaction.
Mr. Cooper had his cue, and began to bombard the steerage with candy. The children crowded to catch it, and it was a merry scene. After every flip and resultant scramble the fortunate victor looked up and cried in his musical language a pleasant "Thank you." There was no more crying if a hand or an arm got hit by the descending sweetness.
A simple little story; but hasn't it a good lesson for us? For often and often, when some hard fortune falls upon us, and strikes us smartly upon some exposed portion of our lives, we begin, without investigation, to bemoan our lot, and very likely, in our hearts if not with our tongues, to blame the all-loving Author of our lot. But hold! Examine the missile. It is hard; yes, but is it not also sweet? It seems a stone: is it not sugar? Oh, "taste and see that the Lord is good"!
A Zeppelin As a City-Improver.
In one of the Zeppelin raids on Paris a bomb, dropped from a big airship, broke through the surface of a street and fell into the tunnel of the Metropolitan Underground Railway. It left a great hole in the roof, which was hard to mend, though the rest of the damage was soon repaired. On second thought the authorities decided not to fill the hole at all, but to use it as a needed ventilator. So the Germans have done Paris at least that much good.
This incident is only one of many illustrations that might be given, showing how the devils of war work out some good—vast evils, to be sure, and comparatively little good, but still some good.
In our lives, however, we may carry the principle much farther than it is ever carried by that terrible muddle, war. In our lives, wherever a Zeppelin of misfortune sends its destructive bomb, tearing great gashes in our plans and in our happiness, we can utilize the gap it makes, and let in through it the very air of heaven! We can make of it a ventilating-shaft that will free our souls of the miasmas of sin and selfishness and doubt and morbidness, and freshen our spirits with the free winds and the cheery sunlight. We can do this easily, if we will, for the gap is there, and all these blessings lie just beyond.
We have only to leave the hole open. But many proceed to plug it up. Into it go groans and sighs and complaints of all kinds. Into it go doubts, and moroseness, and cynicism, and skepticism. Into it go the brick and mortar of the devil himself, who is a master hand at the perpetuation of the evil he himself has done. And our lives are sealed up, with all the bad air left inside.
We could do without war Zeppelins. They are horrible things. We could manage to ventilate without them. But, having to endure them for the present, let us get all the good out of them we can.