Gold Dust Part 11

Ah! who can tell all that pa.s.ses between the soul and its G.o.d?

There is the _united_ prayer of two friends, bound together by a holy friendship, their desires and thoughts are one, and as one they present themselves before G.o.d, crying, "Have mercy upon me!"

There is the prayer of two hearts separated by distance, made at the same hour in the same words. Soothing prayer, that each day reunites those two sad hearts torn by the agony of parting, and who in G.o.d'S Presence, strengthened with the same HOLY SPIRIT, recover courage to tread the road to heaven, each in its appointed sphere.

Then there is Public Prayer, that which has the special promise of G.o.d'S Presence; prayer so comforting to the feeble, guilty soul, who can cry in very truth, "My prayer ascends to G.o.d, supported by the prayers of others."

Oh! if you knew how to pray, and loved prayer, how happy and faithful would be your life!

SAt.u.r.dAY

EARNESTNESS

You love G.o.d, do you not, dear one, whom G.o.d surrounds with so much affection?

Yes, yes! I love Him!

And how do you prove to Him your love?

I keep myself pure and innocent, so that His Eye falling upon me may never see anything that displeases Him. I keep myself calm and quiet, and force myself to smile that He may see I am contented.

_That is right, but that is not enough._

I think often of how much I owe Him, and apply myself diligently to the work He has given me to do; I bear patiently with those I dislike, with troubles that irritate me; when I am weak I call upon Him, when timid I draw near to Him, when sinful I implore pardon, and strive to do my duty more faithfully.

_That is right, but that is not enough._

I lend myself to the importunities of others. I am as a slave to those who need me, and take care never to judge any one harshly.

_That is right, but still it is not enough._

Ah! then what more can I do, good angel, thus addressing me, what can I do to show my love to G.o.d?

Devote thyself to doing good to the souls of others.

Oh, if you knew how it pleases G.o.d to see you laboring for them! It is like the joy of a mother, every time she sees some one benefiting her child.

How thankful she is to those who nursed it in sickness, spared it pain, showed it some token of affection, a counsel, a warning, that gave it pleasure, by a kind word, a plaything, a smile!

All this you may do in that circle, more or less extended, in which you live.

Leave to G.o.d'S minister, if you will, the work of converting souls, and limit your efforts to doing good by bringing yourself into communion with them.

To do so, means sweetly, unconsciously, softly, speak to them of G.o.d, carry them to G.o.d, lead them to G.o.d.

This may be done by gently, tenderly--by inference as it were--speaking to them of G.o.d, thus leading them towards Him, bringing them into contact with Him.

Hearts are drawn together by talking of their kindred pursuits, souls by speaking of heavenly things.

It is not necessary for this purpose to p.r.o.nounce the name of G.o.d; it will suffice that the words shall lift the soul beyond this material world and its sensual enjoyments, and raise them upwards to that supernatural atmosphere necessary to the real life.

Speak of the happiness of devotion, the charm of purity, the blessing of the few minutes' meditation at the feet of JESUS, the peace procured by entire resignation to Providence, and the sweetness of a life spent beneath G.o.d'S Fatherly Eye, the comfort the thought of heaven brings in the midst of trouble, the hope of the meeting again above, the certainty of eternal happiness. This is doing good to others, drawing them nearer to G.o.d, and teaching them more and more of holiness.

Limit your efforts to this; later on I will tell you what more you may do.

SUNDAY

SYMPATHY

Welcome with joy each week the day that G.o.d has called His day.

To each day of the week G.o.d has given its special mission, its share of pleasure and of pain, necessary to purify and fortify and prepare us for eternity.

But _Sunday_ is a day of _Love_.

On Sat.u.r.day we lay aside our garments faded and stained by toil, and on Sunday we array ourselves in garments, not only fresher, but more choice and graceful.

Why not prepare the heart, even as we do the body?

During the week has not the heart been wearied with petty strife and discontent, interests marred, bitter words?

Then, why not shake off all this, that only chills affection? On the Sat.u.r.day let us forgive freely, press the hand warmly, embrace each other; and then peace being restored within, we await the morrow's awakening.

Sunday is G.o.d'S day of truce for all. That day, laying aside all revenge and ill-feeling, we must be filled with forbearance, indulgence, and amiability.

Oh! how good for us to feel _obliged_ to be reconciled, and each Sunday renews the obligation.

Let us leave no time for coldness and indifference to grow upon us ... it only engenders hatred, and that once established in the heart, oh! how hard is it to cast out again!

It is like a hideous cancer whose ravages no remedies can stay.

It is as the venomous plant that the gardener can never entirely eradicate. Only by a miracle can hatred be destroyed. At once then let us place a barrier in our hearts against the approach of coolness or indifference, and each Sat.u.r.day night the head of the family shall thus address us: "Children, to-night we forgive, to-night we forget, and to-morrow begin life afresh in love, one towards another."

II.

When I have sinned, wrote a pious soul, I feel chastis.e.m.e.nt will fall upon me, and as if I could hide myself from G.o.d'S Eye. I _shrink_ into myself, and then I pray, I pray, and the chastis.e.m.e.nt not being sent, I again expand.

_Chastis.e.m.e.nt_ is like a stone threatening to crush me; _Prayer_ is the hand that withholds it while I make atonement.

Oh! how can those live peacefully who never pray?

III.

OUR DEAD