APRIL 3

 

The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light—Rom. 13: 12.

 

The works of darkness would be any works whatever that would not stand the fullest investigation, that would not stand approval in the light of the new dispensation, if it were fully ushered in. Let us remember that we belong to the new dispensation, and not to the old, and should, therefore, live in accordance with our citizenship and our responsibility toward the Prince of Light and in opposition to the prince of darkness, his works and his ways.

 

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The night of Satan's dark reign over the earth is almost ended. The day of Christ's joyous reign is at hand. As God's people we should cast off any and every work or quality imbued with the Adversary's spirit, and arm ourselves with every truth and grace of the Lord's Spirit. Thus our citizenship in the Kingdom of God will be properly attested, and our patriotism will be splendidly manifested, and that to the Divine pleasing.

 

Parallel passages: Gen. 6: 5, 11; 8: 21; Psa. 51: 5; Prov. 20: 9; Eccles. 7: 20; Isa. 1: 5, 6; 51: 1; 64: 6; Jer. 17: 9; Matt. 7: 17; 15: 19; John 3: 19; Rom. 1: 21-32; 3: 9-19, 23; 6: 6, 19, 20; Gal. 5: 17, 19-21; Eph. 4: 17-22; 5: 11; Col. 3: 8; Eph. 6: 12-18; 1Thes. 5: 8; John 3: 21; 15: 2-8; 2Cor. 9: 8; Gal. 6: 4, 7-9.

 

Questions: Have I this week put off evil and put on good? How? What helped or hindered? With what results?

 

THE FIELD OF BATTLE

 

To grasp the two-edged sword, and forward rush

upon the foe,

To hear the Captain's cry, to see the flash of answer-­

ing eyes,

To feel the throbbing hearts of battling comrades in

the ranks,—

That rapturous inspiration know, of warring for the

Right,

The holy joy of following Him who points and

leads the way!

 

Ah! yes, 'tis glorious thus to fight the goodly fight,

and yet,

Methinks, beyond the firing line, beneath those snowy

 tents,

A fiercer conflict rages night and day, where trembling

hands,

Wan lips and fever-lighted eyes do battle with a host

Of deadly foes,—grim giants, Doubt and Disappoint­-

ment, fierce

Despair,—before whose fiery darts the bravest well

might quail!

 

They also hear the call, and hoarsely cry, "Lord,

here am I!"

They strive to reach their swords, to struggle to their

feet, but back

In helpless agony of weakness on their pallets fall,

With brain afire, and reason tottering on its throne,

their tears

Of anguish flow! Sometimes the noise of battle

sweeps beyond

The range of those poor, straining ears, and then the

spectre Fear

Stalks through the room, and lays an icy hand upon

each heart:

The awful thought, Our captain hath forsaken and

forgot,

Our comrades forge ahead, they leave us here alone

to die!

 

But no! the Lord of Battles is most merciful, He

sends

A swift-winged messenger: "Yea, though a mother

may forget

Her sucking child, yet will I not forget!" Then,

like the calm

That cometh after storm, sweet peace and quiet reign

within

Those troubled breasts, and so He giveth His beloved

sleep.

 

Ah! then, true-hearted comrades in the forefront of

the fight,

Remember that the wounded to God's army still

belong,

And send betimes to them a white-winged messenger

of cheer.

Oh, give Love's roses now, nor keep them for the

coffin's lid,

 

(A single flower is sweeter far than thousands by

and by);

Take time to speak a tender word, to shed a pitying

tear,

Or breathe, at least, a prayer throughout the watches

of the night,

And thus prove more than conquerors through the

power of deathless love!

 

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