Miscellaneous Writings, 1883-1896 Part 66

Then he who has no baggage goes back and kindly binds up their wounds, wipes away the blood stains, and

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would help them on; but suddenly the Stranger shouts, [1]

"Let them alone; they must learn from the things they suffer. Make thine own way; and if thou strayest, listen for the mountain-horn, and it will call thee back to the path that goeth upward." [5]

Dear reader, dost thou suspect that the valley is hu- mility, that the mountain is heaven-crowned Christianity, and the Stranger the ever-present Christ, the spiritual idea which from the summit of bliss surveys the vale of the flesh, to burst the bubbles of earth with a breath of [10]

heaven, and acquaint sensual mortals with the mystery of G.o.dliness,-unchanging, unquenchable Love? Hast not thou heard this Christ knock at the door of thine own heart, and closed it against Truth, to "eat and drink with the drunken"? Hast thou been driven by suffer- [15]

ing to the foot of the mount, but earth-bound, burdened by pride, sin, and self, hast thou turned back, stumbled, and wandered away? Or hast thou tarried in the habita- tion of the senses, pleased and stupefied, until wakened through the baptism of fire? [20]

He alone ascends the hill of Christian Science who follows the Way-shower, the spiritual presence and idea of G.o.d. Whatever obstructs the way,-causing to stumble, fall, or faint, those mortals who are striving to enter the path,-divine Love will remove; and up- [25]

lift the fallen and strengthen the weak. Therefore, give up thy earth-weights; and observe the apostle's admoni- tion, "Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those which are before." Then, loving G.o.d supremely and thy neighbor as thyself, thou [30]

wilt safely bear thy cross up to the throne of everlasting glory.

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Voices Of Spring

Mine is an obstinate _penchant_ for nature in all her [2]

moods and forms, a satisfaction with whatever is hers.

And what shall this be named, a weakness, or a- virtue? [5]

In spring, nature like a thrifty housewife sets the earth in order; and between taking up the white carpets and putting down the green ones, her various apartments are dismally dirty.

Spring is my sweetheart, whose voices are sad or glad, [10]

even as the heart may be; restoring in memory the sweet rhythm of unforgotten harmonies, or touching tenderly its tearful tones.

Spring pa.s.ses over mountain and meadow, waking up the world; weaving the wavy gra.s.s, nursing the timid [15]

spray, stirring the soft breeze; rippling all nature in ceaseless flow, with "breath all odor and cheek all bloom."

Whatever else droops, spring is gay: her little feet trip lightly on, turning up the daisies, paddling the water- cresses, rocking the oriole's cradle; challenging the sed- [20]

entary shadows to activity, and the streams to race for the sea. Her dainty fingers put the fur cap on p.u.s.s.y-willow, paint in pink the petals of arbutus, and sweep in soft strains her Orphean lyre. "The voice of the turtle is heard in our land." The snow-bird that tarried through [25]

the storm, now chirps to the breeze; the cuckoo sounds her invisible lute, calling the feathered tribe back to their summer homes. Old robin, though stricken to the heart with winter's snow, prophesies of fair earth and sunny skies. The brooklet sings melting murmurs to merry [30]

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meadows; the leaves clap their hands, and the winds [1]

make melody through dark pine groves.

What is the anthem of human life?

Has love ceased to moan over the new-made grave, and, looking upward, does it patiently pray for the per- [5]

petual springtide wherein no arrow wounds the dove?

Human hope and faith should join in nature's grand har- mony, and, if on minor key, make music in the heart.

And man, more friendly, should call his race as gently to the springtide of Christ's dear love. St. Paul wrote, [10]

"Rejoice in the Lord always." And why not, since man's possibilities are infinite, bliss is eternal, and the conscious- ness thereof is here and now?

The alders bend over the streams to shake out their tresses in the water-mirrors; let mortals bow before the [15]

creator, and, looking through Love's transparency, behold man in G.o.d's own image and likeness, arranging in the beauty of holiness each budding thought. It is good to talk with our past hours, and learn what report they bear, and how they might have reported more spirit- [20]

ual growth. With each returning year, higher joys, holier aims, a purer peace and diviner energy, should freshen the fragrance of being. Nature's first and last lessons teach man to be kind, and even pride should sanction what our natures need. Popularity,-what is [25]

it? A mere mendicant that boasts and begs, and G.o.d denies charity.

When gentle violet lifts its blue eye to heaven, and crown imperial unveils its regal splendor to the sun; when the modest gra.s.s, inhabiting the whole earth, stoops [30]

meekly before the blast; when the patient corn waits on the elements to put forth its slender blade, construct

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the stalk, instruct the ear, and crown the full corn in the [1]

ear,-then, are mortals looking up, waiting on G.o.d, and committing their way unto Him who tosses earth's ma.s.s of wonders into their hands? When downtrodden like the gra.s.s, did it make them humble, loving, obedi- [5]

ent, full of good odor, and cause them to wait patiently on G.o.d for man's rich heritage,-"dominion over all the earth"? Thus abiding in Truth, the warmth and sunlight of prayer and praise and understanding will ripen the fruits of Spirit, and goodness will have its spring- [10]

tide of freedom and greatness.

When the white-winged dove feeds her callow brood, nestles them under her wings, and, in tones tremulous with tenderness, calls them to her breast, do mortals remember _their_ cradle hymns, and thank G.o.d for those [15]

redemptive words from a mother's lips which taught them the Lord's Prayer?

O gentle presence, peace and joy and power; O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour; Thou Love that guards the nestling's faltering flight! [20]

Keep Thou my child on upward wing to-night.

Midst the falling leaves of old-time faiths, above the frozen crust of creed and dogma, the divine Mind-force, filling all s.p.a.ce and having all power, upheaves the earth.

In sacred solitude divine Science evolved nature as thought, [25]

and thought as things. This supreme potential Principle reigns in the realm of the real, and is "G.o.d with us,"

the I AM.

As mortals awake from their dream of material sen- sation, this adorable, all-inclusive G.o.d, and all earth's [30]

hieroglyphics of Love, are understood; and infinite Mind

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is seen kindling the stars, rolling the worlds, reflecting [1]

all s.p.a.ce and Life,-but not life in matter. Wisely governing, informing the universe, this Mind is Truth,- not laws of matter. Infinitely just, merciful, and wise, this Mind is Love,-but not fallible love. [5]

Spring is here! and doors that closed on Christian Science in "the long winter of our discontent," are open flung. Its seedtime has come to enrich earth and en- robe man in righteousness; may its sober-suited autumn follow with hues of heaven, ripened sheaves, and harvest [10]

songs.

"Where Art Thou?"

In the allegory of Genesis, third chapter and ninth verse, two mortals, walking in the cool of the day midst the stately palms, many-hued blossoms, perfume-laden [15]

breezes, and crystal streams of the Orient, pondered the things of man and G.o.d.

A sense of evil is supposed to have spoken, been listened to, and afterwards to have formed an evil sense that blinded the eyes of reason, masked with deformity the [20]