A Basket of Summer Fruit Susannah Spurgeon

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A Basket of Summer Fruit 

by Susannah Spurgeon 

(written after the death of her 

beloved husband C. H. Spurgeon) 

provided by: 

CarryTheLight.io 

Christian Classic Resources 

WaterBooks 

This publication is offered for educational purposes only. Some Images are protected 

by copyright. Distribution may be made without any purpose of commercial advantage. 

Courtesy Grace Gems 


Table of Contents 

“Thanksgiving Street” 4 

Our Great Adversary 7 

God's Glory in the Wilderness 8 

A Paradox of Providence 10 

Faith's Sufficiency 12 

The Shadow of God's Wings 15 

The Night Watcher 17 

Walking in the Spirit 21 

Grievous Inconsistency 23 

Divine Uplifting 26 

A Feast for the Fainting 29 

The Sight of Sights 32 

The Spotless Spouse 36 


“Thanksgiving Street” 

"Whoever offers praise glorifies Me." Psalm 50:23 

"The time of the singing of birds is come," and from early morning 

until the sun sets, their sweet notes are a constant reminder of the 

duty and delight of thanksgiving. Out of the joy of their hearts they trill 

forth their gladness for the sunshine, and the opening flowers, and the 

unfolding leaves; and I have heard the same tender song when the rain 

has fallen, and cold winds have blown, and dark clouds have swept 

across the sky. Many a time have the birds in the garden sung a lesson 

in my listening ears, and rebuked my dullness or my unbelief, by their 

gleeful carolings. 

Ah! dear friends, some of us do not praise our God half enough. We 

"raise an Ebenezer" now and then; but we pitifully fail to obey the 

command. "Rejoice in the Lord always." Yet, how much we have to 

bless Him for, and what sweet encouragement is given to our gratitude 

by His assurance, "Whoever offers praise glorifies Me!" How often are 

we told, in His Word, that He takes delight in our thanksgivings and 

songs! The praise we render is dearer to Him than that of angels—for 

they cannot bless Him for redeeming love, for pardoned sin, and the 

blessed hope of resurrection glory. 

Oh! is it not to the eternal praise of a covenant-keeping God, that poor 

pilgrims, wandering through a wilderness, and having to wage 

constant war with the world, the flesh, and the devil, should yet be 

enabled to sing gloriously, as they put their enemies to flight, and 

overcome by the blood of the Lamb? It is the overcoming ones who 

learn to praise. The fingers which can most adroitly use the sword, are 

the most skillful in touching the harp. Each time God gives us the 

victory over sin, we learn a new song with which to laud and bless His 

holy Name. 

Does it not make your heart leap to know that your Lord takes 

pleasure in your praise? In His ears are ever sounding the eternal 

symphonies of the universe—that majestic chorus which began "when 


the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for 

joy;" but He turns from these to you, and with infinite tenderness and 

love, bends to listen to the grateful songs of His redeemed ones, as 

they bless Him for all His benefits. 

The feeble notes uttered on earth by a truly thankful and sanctified 

heart must, I think, swell into anthems of glorious melody as they rise 

to the throne of God! 

You have heard of the man who made such a notable change of 

residence, from "Grumble Corner" to "Thanksgiving Street," that the 

result was, his friends scarcely knew him, for— 

"His face had lost the look of care, 

And the ugly frown it used to wear." 

Without presuming that a need exists for any of my dear readers to 

remove from their present habitation, it is laid on my heart to remind 

them of the joy of thanksgiving, and to say, "O magnify the Lord with 

me, and let us exalt His Name together!" What a God-honoring 

employment it is, to "offer the sacrifice of praise continually!" We are 

constantly praying for one thing or another, often selfishly spending 

our breath in a long catalogue of our own needs and desires; but our 

thanks to our gracious God are soon told out, and our praises form but 

a small part of our devotions. 

This is not as it should be—and not as God would have it. To enrobe 

ourselves daily in "the garment of praise," is not only to secure our 

own happiness, but to fulfill the blessed service of "glorifying God." 

Prayer is good, but praise is better. Praise is—prayer in richest 

fruitfulness, prayer in highest spirituality, prayer in nearest approach 

to Heaven. Prayer is the language of earth, praise is the native-tongue 

of the angels. Gratitude to God is not cultivated in our lips and lives, as 

it ought to be. Each moment of mercy should strike a note of praise as 

it passes, and then our days would be one long-continued psalm. 

Praise has power to lift the soul above all care as if on wings. 

Sometimes, when we feel cold and lifeless, and supplications languish 

on our tongues, a prelude of praise will awaken the heart's inmost 


music, and move it to pour forth its tenderest melody. We are too 

prone to take our daily blessings and mercies as rights, instead of 

receiving them as undeserved gifts of "free grace and dying love," and 

then returning to our gracious God the full measure of loving gratitude 

of which our poor hearts are capable. If, in looking back but a day, we 

fail to count the loving-kindnesses with which its minutes have been 

laden, how must the retrospect of a lifetime overwhelm us with its 

weight of indebtedness to the Lord, and also, alas! with a sense of our 

guilty unmindfulness of "all His benefits!" 

As this is a "personal note", I may be allowed to tell you that, in my 

deep and increasing loneliness, I still find sweetest comfort in praising 

God for His will concerning my beloved and myself, and have even 

been able to thank Him for taking His dear servant from this sorrowful 

land of sin and darkness—to the bliss and glory of His eternal 

presence. Fixing my heart on the blessed fact that what the Lord does 

is right and best, simply because He does it, I feel the anchor hold in 

the depths of His love—and no tempest is powerful enough to drive 

faith's barque from these moorings. It can outride any storm with 

anchorage in such a haven. Many a time, when the weight of my 

dreadful loss seemed as if it must crush me, it has been lifted by the 

remembrance that, in Heaven, my dear one is now perfectly praising 

his Lord; and that, if I can sing, too, I shall even here on earth be 

joining him in holy service and acceptable worship. 

How many of you, dear readers, will be "chief singers" unto our God, 

and resolve that, henceforth, His praise shall be continually in your 

mouth? Let us, each one, say to the Lord, with good Isaac Watts— 

"Long as I live, I'll bless Your Name, 

My King, my God of love; 

My work and joy shall be the same, 

In the bright world above." 


Our Great Adversary 

"Your adversary the devil." 1 Peter 5:8 

The conversation, at our midday meal, turned upon the dread subject 

of Satan's rule and reign in the world. Someone remarked on the 

significance of the title given to him in the Epistle to the Ephesians, 

"the prince of the power of the air," and said that, if Christians could 

only know the awful strength and might of their arch-enemy, they 

would be more vigilant, more constant in prayer, more unceasingly 

intent on abiding in Christ. We spoke softly and with bated breath, as 

soldiers in ambush might, who feared to be overheard; and each one 

had some terrible experience to relate of the craftiness and malice of 

"the accuser of the brethren." The impression made was a solemn one, 

and did not lightly pass away. 

There are many instances in which God's Word recognizes the power 

and malignity of the devil; but they are sufficient to prove the necessity 

of stern watchfulness against so powerful and insidious a foe. If we are 

not ignorant of his devices, it behooves us to be prepared against his 

attacks. 

Feeling somewhat downcast at the prospect of the ceaseless 

war which must be waged, and the constant precautions which must 

be taken against the enemy—knowing, moreover, by sad experience, 

that the same dreadful power had a too-willing ally within me, and so 

could the more easily tempt and deceive my soul—with a cry to God 

for help, I turned to the following quotation from Dr. Saphir: 

"Although we trust in the power of the death of Jesus to cancel the 

guilt of sin, we do not exercise a reliant and appropriating faith in the 

omnipotence of the living Savior to deliver us from the bondage of sin 

and the power of Satan in our daily life. We forget that Christ works in 

us mightily, and that, one with Him, we possess strength sufficient to 

overcome every temptation." 

Here was just the word of gracious strengthening which I needed, and 

truly my heart did bless God for it. Yes, Satan is strong; but my Lord 


Jesus is stronger than he. The devil may hate me with all the 

vehemence of his malicious nature; but "love is strong as death," and 

the love of God in Christ is my everlasting safeguard. 

How blessed it was to roll this burden upon the Lord, and feel even 

this care lifted from my heart by faith in the faithfulness of Him who 

cares for me! "In the shadow of His hand has He hid me." I am 

securely kept. All the rage of hell cannot reach me there. The united 

forces of evil, are unequal to the task of destroying one of the weakest 

of the Lord's own sheep. "No one is able to snatch them out of the 

Father's hand." Blissful confidence! It sends me on my way singing 

Toplady's fearless song— 

"Yes, I to the end shall endure, 

As sure as the earnest is given; 

More happy, but not more secure, 

The glorified spirits in Heaven." 

God's Glory in the Wilderness 

"And it came to pass, as Aaron spoke unto the whole congregation of 

the children of Israel, that they looked toward the wilderness, and, 

behold, the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud." Exodus 16:10. 

A friend, writing to me from China, quoted part of this passage as 

having brought much comfort and blessing to him in a time of trial 

and difficulty. On turning to my Bible, I discovered that the context 

indicated that the appearance of the Lord, on that particular occasion, 

was rather matter for fear than for joy, for the people had grievously 

sinned, and could expect only the just punishment of their offenses. 

But my friend, being not under the law, but under grace, did rightly, I 

think, in eating the honey out of this dead lion. For him, the cloudenveloped 

glory could mean only deliverance, safety, and peace. 

But from what an unexpected quarter the glorious vision came! "They 

looked toward the wilderness." Not a cheering prospect, surely! Not a 


likely spot to which one's eyes would naturally turn for a revelation of 

the Divine presence! A solitary place, without habitation, or 

fruitfulness, or beauty; a waste and arid land, where the sun smites by 

day, and the moon by night; a place where the wild beasts meet, and 

dragons and owls dwell in safety. Yet such a desert does God choose, 

in which to reveal Himself; and the watcher sees, amid all this 

desolation and loneliness, nothing less than "the glory of the Lord." 

It is marvelous how full God's Words are, of blessed possibilities of 

unfolding and disclosure. However dark and indistinct a passage may 

at first sight appear to be, it will glow as with hidden fire when the 

Spirit of the Lord breathes upon it, and the eyes of faith and desire 

look closely into its depths. You have, doubtless, known the joy of this 

insight, dear reader. A text you may have read hundreds of times 

without noticing anything special about it, suddenly becomes alive, as 

it were, for you, and speaks to your heart, as the very voice of God 

Himself! 

My correspondent had this delightful experience with the verse we are 

considering; and do you wonder at it? Cannot you make it your own? 

Look into your past life, and see whether you cannot recall many times 

when you "looked toward" some wilderness of trial, or sorrow, or 

affliction, which lay directly in your pathway, but without the 

expectation of seeing "the glory of the Lord" there. Everything else you 

saw—the darkness, and the discomfort, and the danger—and you 

feared exceedingly. 

Yet, has it not been true that, where and when you most needed Him, 

your blessed God has come to you; and, before long, your dreary 

desert has "blossomed as the rose!" 

Then, too, with what infinite compassion for our weakness does He 

manifest Himself! His unveiled glory would strike us with blindness; 

so He makes it appear "in a cloud." With tenderest condescension, He 

deigns to enwrap His splendor in a misty veil of light, that the 

brightness of His presence may shine through, and yet not dazzle us. 


Do not fear to look toward the wilderness, then, if your God has put 

you there; for here are the "goings forth" of the Lord from of old, and 

even thus does He give "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God 

in the face of Jesus Christ." 

A Paradox of Providence 

"He brought us out, . . . that He might bring us in." 

Deuteronomy 6:23 

"Dear Lord, this is a paradox of Your providence, which both 

manifests and magnifies the glorious sovereignty of Your grace! Give 

us such true and tender trust in You, that Your "dealings" may never 

perplex or terrify us; but, rather, be the openings and discoveries of 

Your covenant love. Let us learn to read Your ways with us, as a skillful 

reader interprets a choice book, seeing the sentences in advance, as it 

were, and thus rendering a clear and continuous impression of the 

author's mind and purpose." 

The lesson set before us may be, "He has torn, He has smitten," "He 

makes sore, He wounds;" and, in our own experience, we may feel how 

painful is the truth thus taught. But if the eye of faith can discern the 

precious postscripts which follow, "He will heal," "He will bind us up," 

"His hands make whole," we are strengthened to endure patiently the 

trial which is so sure to end in triumph; and we say, "Ah, Lord! You do 

but frown—to make Your smile the sweeter! You do kill— only that 

You may make alive! Blessed wounding, gracious suffering, which 

places us under the great Physician's love and care!" 

"Tis worth the tearing to be tended 

By hands so gentle in their touch; 

Pains and griefs are sweetly ended; 

Can I praise You, Lord, too much?" 


"He brought us out." This is another aspect of the same subject, 

though, of course, it primarily refers to the deliverance of the Israelites 

from their cruel taskmasters. But, sometimes, Egypt is not such a land 

of bondage to us—as a country of carnal delights, where we desire to 

remain because our affections are entangled, and our hearts are firmly 

tethered there—by the cucumber and melon vines of worldliness and 

vanity. These quickly close around us, overshadow us with a confusing 

dimness, and effectually fetter all spiritual growth and aspiration. We 

must be "brought out" of such a sad condition if we are really the 

Lord's people—so He cuts loose those clinging tendrils, destroys our 

gourds, and leads us into the wilderness, that He may there teach us to 

serve Him; and, after a while, "bring us in" to His own land, the 

Heavenly Canaan. 

He must "bring us out" of self, and sin, and Satan's slavery, before He 

can "bring us in" to holiness, pardon, and the liberty with which Christ 

makes us free. Many a time has the Lord had to disturb our nest, and 

"bring us out" of some earthly refuge which was becoming too easy 

and too dear to our soul. But, as music sounds the sweetest when 

heard across the waters—so do God's dealings make the purest 

harmony in our hearts, when they reach us over the waves of affliction 

and trial. When a tried and tempted soul stays itself on God, and sings 

in the midst of the flood or the fire, such praise must, methinks, be 

more glorious and glorifying to Him and His mighty grace, than the 

hallelujahs of unfallen angels. 

"He brought us out." Mark the tenderness of our dear Lord and 

Shepherd; He does not "drive" us either way—"in" or "out." No! "The 

sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name 

and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on 

ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice." 

John 10:3-4. God grant that this may be true of you and I, dear reader! 

May we never hesitate to go where He leads, or think any road too 

rough or dark—when we hear His dear voice calling us to come! 

And who can imagine what the "bringing in" will be, by-and-by, when, 

after all the toils, and pains, and sorrows of the earthly pilgrimage—we 

reach the Father's house, and all tears are wiped away, and we enter 

on the blessedness which knows no ending! 


Those of us, whose dearest and best-beloved have already "crossed the 

flood," are often wondering what their inheritance is like, and what the 

"eternal weight of glory" means to them; but our loftiest flight of 

imagination must fall far short of the glorious reality. Not until the 

Lord brings us out of the river of death, and brings us 

into Emmanuel's Land—can we know the joy that awaits us there! 

I remember hearing of a dear saint of God who, when dying, was asked 

if he had any fear. "No," said he, "I have no fear, for Christ has saved 

me by His precious blood; but I am conscious of feeling an absorbing 

and solemn curiosity—I am impatient to learn the secrets of Heaven, 

and to know for myself the things which God has prepared for those 

who love Him." 

Dear soul, he had not long to wait, for, very quickly, the gates opened 

—and he went in! 

Faith's Sufficiency 

"The Lord your God turned the curse into a blessing unto you, 

because the Lord your God loved you." Deuteronomy 23:5 

Here, my soul, in this most sweet assurance, you will find your Lord's 

one reason for all His dealings with you, whether tender or severe. In 

this earthly pilgrimage, you do meet with so many experiences and 

providences that are inexplicable and mysterious, that you are apt to 

say, "Why this trial, Lord?" "Why this affliction?" "Why this 

disappointment of all my hopes and plans?" 

Blessed be the Name of the Lord for such a full and amazing answer as 

is this precious verse—to all the questions with which a doubting heart 

or a feeble faith can vex me! It must needs be that my finite mind fails 

to understand the ways of God; but if I can believe that He loves me, 

this is faith's sufficiency. 


My heart, until you have learned the lesson of perfect trust—doubts 

and misgivings are sure to arise, and cloud your fairest prospects. 

The darkness looks impenetrable when you do try to peer into it— 

the rough places seem impassable when your weary feet stumble over 

the big stones in the pathway—the mountains of difficulty appear 

inaccessible when the mists of unbelief veil their true proportions. 

Truly, the Lord is a God who hides Himself; and, oftentimes, His 

purposes are carried out on our behalf under cover of the thick 

clouds, in which He enwraps Himself. 

But what a bright star amidst the darkness, what a lamp unto my feet, 

and a light unto my path, are the blessed words of this Divinelyilluminated 

text, "Because the Lord your God loved you!" It completely 

solves all doubts, it wipes away all tears, it is a remedy for every fear, a 

refuge from every distress! No sweeter assurance could fill my 

trembling heart with joy, no softer resting-place could be found for a 

weary, heavy-laden sinner. 

To know, of a surety, that all God's dealings with me are those of a 

loving Father towards a dear and well-beloved child; to be absolutely 

certain that every sorrow conceals a blessing, because He has 

appointed it; to look upon pain, and trial, and bitter experiences as the 

outcome of a love which is so infinite that I cannot fathom it—this is to 

live in "the secret place of the Most High," this is to "abide under the 

shadow of the Almighty!" 

If we would but meet every affliction, be it small or great, with a brave 

confidence in our Lord's mighty love to us, and an unquenchable faith 

in His power—our trials would either vanish altogether, or be 

transformed into triumphs which would bring honor to our King! 

"Crosses and trials all are right, 

And pain is sweet, and troubles light, 

When Christ my soul does fill." 

"My heart melts within me, Lord, when, by Your Holy Spirit's aid, I 

can get even a glimpse of that wonderful love which You have for me— 

so undeserving and so vile. It does seem "too good to be true," 

sometimes, that I, notwithstanding all my faults and failings, and 


despite all my hardness of heart and guilty indifference, should be the 

recipient of such free, unmerited favor! Lord, open my understanding 

as well as my heart, that my love may sun itself in Yours, and have a 

blessed realization of what Your grace really means to my poor soul!" 

A present-day writer speaks very forcibly on this subject in the 

following words: "The grace of God is the unhindered, wondrous, 

boundless love of His heart, poured out upon His people in a countless 

variety of ways, without stint or measure—not according to our 

deserving, but according to His infinite heart of love! This I cannot 

understand—so unfathomable are its heights and depths! God's love is 

infinitely tender, and self-sacrificing, and devoted, and patient, and 

eager to lavish its best of gifts and blessings upon the objects of His 

love. Put together all the tenderest love you know of, the deepest love 

you have ever felt, and the strongest love that has ever been poured 

out upon you--and heap upon it all the love of all the human hearts in 

the world, and then multiply it by infinity--and you will begin, 

perhaps, to have some faint glimpse of the love and grace of God 

towards His people!" "I pray that you, being rooted and established in 

love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide 

and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love 

that surpasses knowledge!" Ephesians 3:17-19 

"Glorious Lord, such measureless, wonderful love is indeed 

incomprehensible; but I ask that Your gracious Spirit may strengthen 

the eyes of my mind—that I may see something more of the glory and 

beauty of Your rich grace, and that He may enable the hands of my 

faith to cling tenaciously to the everlasting consolation which lies in 

the fact of Your eternal, unchanging, and covenant love in Christ 

Jesus! When, in response to the skeptical suggestions of my own evil 

heart, or the malicious insinuations of the enemy of souls, I can 

confidently say, "All this is because the Lord loved me," it is evident 

that faith has quenched the fiery darts—that I stand upon a rock which 

no powers of earth or hell can move—I am hidden in a pavilion, 

unassailable by the craftiest foe; I have an overflowing well of joy in 

my heart which no drought can dry up, and no impurity can defile." 

How different would have been the conditions and conclusions if my 

love for You, had depended the comfort of my daily life, and the 


security of my soul! Alas, that I should have to say, "My love to You is 

unworthy of mention—so cold, so faint, so variable is it." But Your love 

to me is an "everlasting love," unchangeable, and full of tenderness 

and compassion. Had I a seraph's pen, I might, perchance, be able to 

set forth something of what my soul sees of the possibilities of my 

Lord's love- 

"But I fail, and falter forth 

Broken words, not half His worth." 

The sweet singer who said, "We must die to speak of Christ," vainly 

tried to sound the depths of this ocean of grace. He found it 

bottomless. Never, until we "see Him as He is," shall we be able "to 

grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and 

to know this love that surpasses knowledge!" Ephesians 3:17-19. 

Now, my soul, from this time forth, decide to answer all 

the whys and wherefores which perplex your life, by the simple 

response, "Because the Lord loved me!" This will ensure complete 

deliverance from your fears every time you do in faith use it; and your 

Lord and Master will be greatly honored by such a casting of yourself 

upon His word and promise. Can you imagine a condition more 

blissful than that of being so sheltered and surrounded by His love— 

that no doubt, no fear, no questioning of His tender purpose can 

possibly touch you to harm you? 

The Shadow of God's Wings 

"In the shadow of Your wings will I make my refuge." Psalm 57:1 

What comfort the shadow gives, and what a refuge is thus provided!" 

That passage had for me a specially personal interest, for I had chosen 

it as the motto-text for the anniversary of my beloved's birthday—June 

19; and on that date I wrote thus concerning it— 


Today's text is a very precious one to me, for though my dear one 

enjoys the full blaze of the light of God's countenance, while I am only 

"in the shadow of His wings," yet how blessed is it to rejoice in such a 

refuge—"Until the storm of life be past!" 

It is very gracious of the Lord to use the homely illustration of "wings" 

and "feathers" in His Word, for the comfort of His people. The most 

simple, as well as the most sorrowful, can understand the beauty of it. 

Many a time have I profitably watched the feathered folk of the 

farmyard, and been taught by them that, in every time of trouble, be it 

little or great, the safest place in all the world is, "under the wings." 

How well the wee chicks know this! When the least thing alarms them, 

or the drops of rain come pattering down, then fly quickly to their 

mother's wings for shelter and safety, and you can see nothing of them 

but a collection of legs, tiptoeing in their eagerness to press very close 

to the warm breast which covers them! 

Sometimes, I have dared to claim even such an experience! Not 

content with the blessed fact that I was hidden "beneath His wings," 

my faith nestled up, as it were, to the loving heart which brooded over 

me, and found such a glow of everlasting love there, that all outside ills 

and evils were as if they were not. Oh, that such times were less rare! 

But if any timid, afflicted souls read these few lines, let me whisper to 

them to run at once to their God, "when troubles assail, and dangers 

affright." We are so safe when "covered with His feathers," so cared 

for, and comforted, and welcomed, so defended from everything that 

could harm us. 

In one place, the text reads, "Hide me beneath the shadow of Your 

wings." The hen effectually conceals her brood from any passing 

enemy—but God is an impenetrable hiding-place for His people. 

Surely this is the meaning of the psalmist when he says, "I will trust in 

the covert of Your wings" (Psalm. 61:4). 

Is it not a sad wonder that, sometimes, we willfully stay out in the rain 

and the storm, facing unknown dangers—when, all the while, so 

gracious a shelter is provided and accessible? 


The Night Watcher 

"I will watch to see what He will say unto me." Habakkuk 2:1 

A new year's motto-card bears the above text, with the representation 

of an armed man standing on the wall of a fortress, in a posture of 

intense expectation and watchfulness. With his hand, he uplifts his 

visor, that he may the more steadfastly look through the enveloping 

darkness; and whether he be waiting for the day to dawn, or looking 

for the approach of an enemy, or anticipating the arrival of friends, his 

whole attitude is suggestive of patient and expectant watching, of 

danger disregarded, and of duty nobly done. 

It is not, however, so much to this pictured warrior that I wish to draw 

your attention, as to the text he is supposed to illustrate. Do you 

notice, dear reader, the singular form of expression here used? "I will 

watch to see what He will say unto me." Watch to see what God says! 

There lies the strangeness of the prophet's exclamation, for if he had 

said he would "wait to hear," we would have found nothing 

extraordinary in the sentence. 

But God often spoke by signs to His people in those days, and 

Habakkuk was, doubtless, quite accustomed to watch for indications 

of His mind and will in all the surroundings of Nature and Providence. 

"As the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters," so did 

the prophet's eyes wait upon the Lord his God; and as he stood upon 

his watch-tower, God revealed the "goings forth" of the Lord to him, 

and instructed His servant by signs and wonders in Heaven, and earth, 

and sea. Who can read, in the third chapter of this prophecy, those 

glorious descriptions of Heavenly panoramic visions, without being 

awed and thrilled by their majesty? 

Those olden days of open vision and prophecy are gone by; but does 

not our loving Father, even now, though in gentler fashion, sometimes 

speak to His children by what they see, as certainly and truly as if a 

voice had reached their outward ears? I think so; and to explain my 


thought, I will relate an incident which happened to me, and which 

forcibly interpreted to my heart the words of the inspired prophet. 

Awaking from a quiet sleep, a little after midnight, I experienced a 

curious constraint to leave my warm bed, and draw aside the curtains 

of my window. I obeyed the impulse, and was rewarded by a sight, 

common enough it may be, but so fraught with spiritual meaning to 

my soul, that it will be photographed on my mind while life lasts. 

The sky was dark and heavy, not a star was to be seen. The black 

mantle of night hung low upon the earth, and seemed ponderous in its 

dense obscurity. The lights of distant villages and towns twinkled 

feebly, and a deep silence made the darkness more oppressive. But 

across one portion of the heavens, the clouds had parted in a long, 

narrow line, like a rift or chasm in the mountains of blackness; and 

along this passage-way the moon was sailing, a ship of silver passing 

through a river of light, while the cloud-banks on either side were 

luminous with celestial radiance. 

So great was the contrast between the general blackness of the sky and 

the brilliance of the rifted clouds, that it was as if Heaven's pearly 

gates were opened, and through them came streaming the light of that 

City which "had no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine in it; 

for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." 

Often have I seen grand and glorious sights in cloud-land, when 

pictures of inexpressible beauty have formed themselves under my 

astonished gaze. Alpine peaks, and snows, and glaciers, as apparently 

real as the sublime realities, have for a time displayed their 

magnificent proportions; and then, gradually melted into lovely green 

lakes, and purple hills, and golden sands, and shining rivers; and, 

sometimes—though far more rarely—while I have watched the heavens 

with spellbound eyes, whole cohorts of angels have passed by on swift 

wings, or gathered their shining legions together for fierce battle with 

the opposing forces of "the prince of the power of the air." 

But this midnight scene was less imaginative, more real, more 

spiritual than anything I had before witnessed. It seemed to have God 

in it, and the place whereon I stood was holy ground. 


The appearance of such pure, unsullied light breaking through a dark 

and threatening sky—the strange position of the long, illuminated 

pathway across the heavens, and the unusual effulgence of the clouds 

lining that pathway—all these presented a vision so sublime and 

celestial that my heart was awed and humbled as in the very presence 

of God, and my soul said, "Surely this is none other but the house of 

God, and this is the gate of Heaven." 

For some time I stood gazing at the Heavenly vision, adoring and 

admiring, "watching to see what He would say unto me," trying to 

spell out the words which Heaven was signaling to earth, and 

worshiping with loving reverence the tender Father whose love, and 

care, and faithfulness were written in letters of light across that black 

and threatening sky. 

Then, with a solemn feeling of awe upon me, as if I had almost seen 

the open gates of the Celestial City, and heard the songs of the 

redeemed ones, I crept back to my bed, trembling, but trusting, glad in 

the Lord, and rejoicing in my God. The thick curtains of my window 

shut out both the light and the darkness, but the glorious vision had 

done its sweet work in my heart—I had seen the words by which the 

Lord comforted and cheered my soul, and I fell immediately into a 

peaceful and refreshing sleep. 

Are any of my readers in such deep trouble that all around them looks 

black, and thick, and threatening, as did that notable midnight sky? 

Let me beg you to watch to see what He will say unto you. If you watch 

with real desire to hear and to obey, you will certainly see the light of 

His love parting the densest gloom, and the tokens of His mighty 

power appearing to reassure your fainting spirit. 

There are no clouds so thick, that they can obscure His glorious light if 

He bids it shine; there are no troubles so black and appalling, that they 

can fright the soul from beholding the brightness of His grace and 

truth when He reveals them; and the feeblest of His children may 

always trust Him to fulfill that blessed promise in His Word, "I will 

make darkness light before them." 


And, oh! how small and light our greatest griefs, and losses, and 

afflictions seem, when illumined by the bright beams of the Gloryland! 

Away up there, where we are so soon going, there are no clouds, 

no darkness, no nights of pain, no days of sorrow; and it is, after all, 

but a thin, dark veil which separates us from the "beautiful home on 

high." Part of the special message which my soul received, on that 

night, was that Heaven was very near, and the gate wide open! The 

clouds have but to break, and the call to be given, and straightway my 

ransomed spirit will— 

"Run up with joy the shining way 

To embrace my dearest Lord." 

So, cheer up your heart, poor, timid child of God—if such a one be 

reading my little book! You may not be able to see your way on earth; 

but turn your eyes to Heaven, and gaze long and lovingly there. You do 

not need to see the path down below, because He has said He will 

guide you, and you know the darkness and the light are both alike to 

Him. Put your hand in His, and trust Him, for "by His light you shall 

walk through darkness." 

Remember, too, that He is watching for you to watch. That lovely 

vision in the sky was there when I drew aside the curtains; I know not 

how long its glory had been shining, for the dear Lord may have had 

hundreds of "watchers by night" to whom He would speak by its glory; 

but I do know that, if I had "folded my hands" again to sleep, and 

failed to go up to my watch-tower, I would have missed the blessing it 

brought me. When I think of this, there comes to my heart the 

sweetness of the text, "Therefore will the Lord wait, that He may be 

gracious unto you," and I would gladly learn and teach the lesson that 

we may often lose the manifestations of our Father's love and care—by 

simply not looking for them. 

Watch, then, and wait, dear reader of mine, "watch to see what He will 

say" unto you, and wait with eager anticipation "until the day breaks, 

and the shadows flee away," "for the Lord shall be your everlasting 

light." 


Walking in the Spirit 

"If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit." Galatians 5:25 

I have heard of some people, who openly boast that their religion is, 

and ought to be, confined within the walls of their church, and that 

they do not seek or desire to bring it into any connection with their 

daily life and its duties or delights. They go to church on the Sabbath 

morning, perform various pious genuflexions, hear certain selected 

words softly intoned by vested priests, pay a small tribute to the Deity 

who perchance may have some influence over their affairs, and whom, 

therefore, it is just as well to propitiate with a coin; get it all over as 

soon as they can, and then feel free to take their own way, and cram 

into the rest of the day, and all the subsequent days of the week, as 

much of gain and greed and worldly enjoyment as is possible! The fact 

itself is not a novelty, but I think the unblushing boast of it, is a new 

feature, and a very significant sign of the times—the God-dishonoring, 

man-exalting times in which we live. 

There is another class of people, whose spiritual sight is not so 

darkened as to lead them to mistake evil for good, as do those 

described above, yet who so far imitate them that they fall short of the 

high standard of holy living and godliness which assures "a conscience 

void of offense toward God and toward men." They are well described 

in a passage which I read in one of Mr. Andrew Murray's books: "How 

much our Christianity suffers from the fact that it is confined to 

certain times and places! A man, who seeks to pray earnestly in the 

church, or in the closet, spends the greater part of the week or the day 

in a spirit entirely at variance with that in which he prayed. His 

worship is the work of a fixed place or hour, not the blessed outcome 

of his whole spiritual being.” 

Dear friends, to which of these two classes do you and I belong? I ask 

myself the question, and find that, though I may be blameless on the 

first count, on the second I must plead "guilty" before God. Kneeling 

before the Lord in prayer, in the early morning—it seems so 


Kneeling before the Lord in prayer, in the early morning—it seems so 

easy to hate sin, and dwell in Him, that one looks forward to the day's 

trials and perplexities, that they can all be overcome. There is a 

tenderness of heart, a yielding of the will to God, an eagerness for 

communion with Him, and a desire to be well-pleasing in His sight, all 

of which are very delightful and precious. 

But, alas! when I leave the mercy-seat, and go about my daily work 

and service, the most of this fades like a beautiful dream! Too often, 

when reviewing a day begun under such sweet auspices, I find, to my 

dismay, that God has not been in all my thoughts, sin has crept in 

unawares, many things have been said and done contrary to the law of 

kindness; and, in the highest spiritual sense, the day has been a sad 

failure. 

The humble, trustful, thankful spirit, which seemed to characterize the 

quiet hour with God in the morning, has not been carried into all the 

events and experiences of the day; the resolution to "set the Lord 

always before me" has been for a while forgotten, and I have allowed 

the fogs and glooms of earthly cares, ay, and even the smoke from the 

altar of sacrifice and service, to obscure my soul's vision, and hide, for 

a time at least, that glorious goal towards which my heart pressed, 

when I felt myself to be in the presence of God. 

Must you not, my dear readers, many of you, join me in making the 

same sorrowful confession? Yet it ought not to be thus. If the Spirit of 

God dwells within us, a different state of things is not only possible, 

but it is enjoined upon us. If we pray in the Spirit, we must also walk 

in the Spirit; and "the exceeding greatness of His power to us who 

believe" is more than equal to any strain which our cares or 

circumstances can bring to bear upon it. 

Surely, could we but realize the close presence of the Lord Jesus, hour 

by hour, and minute by minute—Heaven would be begun on earth. 

But, sometimes, even work for Him so entirely engrosses thought and 

heart, that He himself seems forgotten. Sweet "frames and feelings" 

vanish when the burden and heat of the day oppress both soul and 

body. 


Yet I am sure this should not be. Christ says, "Abide in Me," and He 

would not tell me to do an impossible thing. "Blessed Jesus, put forth 

Your hand, and take Your poor, silly, fluttering dove into the ark of 

Your love!" 

What a revolution there would be in all our Christian circles, if each 

one of us carried into every thought and word and action of the day the 

fragrance and freshness of our seasons of sweet communion with our 

Master! It is good to talk with God; it is far better to walk with Him. 

About the former, we may be self-deceived; but about the latter— 

never! 

Well, dear friends, we cannot set the world right; we have not the 

power to persuade or convince multitudes of their errors of doctrine or 

practice; but we can see to it that we ourselves are walking "worthy of 

God," and letting our light shine so brightly that all may see more 

plainly the pathway to the Celestial City, because we are passing along 

it. 

"Lord, I desire to live as one 

Who bears a blood-bought name, 

As one who fears but grieving You, 

And knows no other shame. 

"As one who daily speaks to You, 

And hears Your voice Divine 

With depths of tenderness declare, 

Beloved, you are Mine!" 

Grievous Inconsistency 

"Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say?” 

Luke 6:46 

This passage is truly "the burden of the Lord" on my heart at this time, 

and I almost unwillingly prepare to examine and meditate upon it, 


ecause I am ashamed to know what cause the Master has to speak 

such tenderly reproachful words to me. There will be some, at least, of 

my readers who will sympathize with me in this feeling. Shall we, then, 

go hand in hand into His presence, bearing "the indignation of the 

Lord, because we have sinned against Him," hushing our souls to a 

solemn silence while we listen to the grave charge He makes against 

us? 

In what pathetic tones He pleads with us to note the inconsistency of 

our words and actions! "Lord, Lord," we say, professing to be His 

happy and devoted servants; but, as a matter of fact—do we not 

constantly do our own will rather than His? We please ourselves in 

most of the matters which should be subject to His approval, and we 

constantly comport ourselves, as if no vows of obedience and 

consecration had ever passed our lips. Is our time at His disposal and 

command? Is our money spent chiefly for His honor and glory, 

looked upon as absolutely His, and lent to us only for His service and 

kingdom? Do we ask the Lord's counsel over everything which occurs 

in our daily life? 

Of course, there are occasions when, with a start, we wake up to a 

sense of our deep responsibility to our Master as His professed 

servants; but does our daily, hourly life show that we are striving in 

everything to do His commandments, and thus prove our love and 

loyalty to Him? 

Dear friends, my sense of shortcomings, in this respect, is so painfully 

strong that I would sincerely write with tears, rather than with ink, if I 

could thereby bring you and myself to a practical realization of our 

duty to our Master if we have once taken His vows upon us, and called 

Him "Lord." I do not wish to judge you; but if, in judging and 

condemning myself, you should find your own experience described 

and repeated in mine, I earnestly pray that you will receive my words 

as a message from God to you personally, and not rest until your sin 

has been confessed and pardoned. 

When I measure myself by the standard of Christian maturity given by 

the Lord Jesus in His Word, I feel ashamed to call myself His follower 

at all, so far do I lag behind in running the race, so destitute do I seem 


of those traits which would prove me to be the Lord's. I came across 

the following paragraph in a book I much value; read it carefully, dear 

friends, and if your heart does not condemn you, (as mine does me,) 

then lift up your voice in thankful praise to God—that His grace in you 

has gained so great a victory— 

"An ill-tempered Christian, or an anxious Christian, a discouraged, 

gloomy Christian, a doubting Christian, a complaining Christian, a 

demanding Christian, a selfish Christian, a cruel, hardhearted 

Christian, a self-indulgent Christian, a worldly Christian, a Christian 

with a sharp tongue or bitter spirit—all these may be very earnest in 

their work, and may have honorable places in the Church, but they are 

not Christlike Christians; and, no matter how loud their professions 

may be, they know nothing of the realities of a devoted, consecrated 

life." 

To be Christlike, is the duty and privilege of every believer. God's 

Word distinctly settles that matter when it affirms, "Now if any man 

has not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of His." I ask myself—oh, will 

not you do the same—how much of His likeness has been visible in my 

conduct during this day? How far have I been from that which my 

Lord expects me to be—His representative in this sinful world? If 

bearing the cross after Christ is the chief work of the Christian, have I 

borne it in patience, and obedience, and full surrender to His will in all 

things; or have I, as far as I was able, put it aside, and thought my own 

thoughts, walked in my own ways, and done what pleased myself 

without any reference to Him or recognition of His right to "reign over 

me"? 

"There are Christians who think they have liberty to do their own will 

in a thousand things. They speak very much as they like; they do very 

much as they like; they use their property and possessions as they like; 

they are their own masters, and they have never dreamed of saying— 

Jesus, we forsake all to follow You." May God keep us from the sin 

and error of thinking that we can accept Christ as our Savior, and yet 

practically deny Him as our Master! How must His loving heart grieve 

over the wounds He thus receives in the house of His friends! 


"O Lord, it is a hard task which I have undertaken, to try to show to 

myself and others of Your people, what a low standard of practical 

piety has hitherto satisfied us! I am unable to set forth our 

shortcomings, to describe the deceitfulness of our hearts, or to repeat 

the excuses which the flesh makes as it "lusts against the Spirit," and 

seeks to delude the soul into false peace, and an unspiritual 

contentment. Your hand alone can do the work; only Your own 

gracious Spirit can convince us of our wrongdoing, and set our feet in 

the right path. O Lord, revive Your work in us! Help us to cry mightily 

to You for grace to walk closely with You, that we may be more 

conformed to Your blessed image!" 

"We know, in our hearts, what You mean by "the things which I say." 

They are Your gentle commands—Your loving counsels—Your easy 

yoke—Your tender teachings; henceforth, dear Master, may these be 

the rule of our life and conduct! Self set aside, Your will paramount; 

Heaven more near, and better loved than earth; then, indeed, without 

a question, we may call You "Lord," and rejoice in the blessedness of 

union with You. "He who says he abides in Him ought himself also so 

to walk, even as He walked." 1 John 2:6 

Divine Uplifting 

Mark 1:31 ”He came and took her by the hand, and lifted her up; 

and immediately the fever left her, and she ministered unto them." 

"Blessed Lord Jesus, very many of Your poor, despondent, downcast 

children are at this moment holding out their fevered hands to You, 

that Your Divine and gracious act, here recorded, may be repeated in 

their experience! Your compassions were not exhausted on this case. 

Your sympathy did not expend itself in this one effort of love. You are 

able and willing now, as then, to work Your miracles of grace and 

healing on mind as well as body. Oh, that we could bless You as we 

ought for Your unfailing mercy!" 


The depths of despondency and darkness, to which a soul may 

descend even while Your everlasting arms are underneath it—are 

known only to You. It may be forced to cry out, with Jonah, "The depth 

closed me round about, the weeds were wrapped about my head." A 

sense of desertion may even be permitted to oppress the spirit, and 

Satan will not miss this opportunity to vex and harass the tried 

believer. But You, O compassionate Redeemer, will never forsake a 

trembling one whose only hope is in You! Blessed be Your Name, there 

are no depths deep enough to "separate us from the love of God, which 

is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

How often has it been with me as it was with the poor woman of whom 

it was written, "She could by no means lift up herself;" and is not this 

true of you also, dear reader? The struggle has been long and 

wearisome—the result unsuccessful and disappointing. No human 

power, from without or from within, can raise a prostrate soul out of 

the "miry clay" into which unbelief has dragged it. Our own exertions 

are of no avail; nay, they do but sink us more deeply than before, and 

weaken us to no purpose. 

But Your hand, precious Savior, can work prompt deliverance; it takes 

You but an instant to accomplish that which has baffled all our best 

efforts. It needs a mighty leverage to raise so dead a weight as a heavy 

heart—but in Your wounded hand there lies hidden the power (Habak. 

3:4) which created all things, and which the love of Your heart places 

freely at the service of a helpless sinner. Touched by the strength of its 

sweet uplifting—what a gracious change comes over my heart and life! 

No longer bowed down by a sense of guilt and helplessness—no longer 

the miserable target for Satan's innuendoes and accusations—no 

longer weak, and doubting, and downcast—that touch has wrought a 

miracle of grace in me. Not only am I restored, but I can rise and 

"minister unto others." 

Ah! thank God that the joy of uplifting, compensates so richly for the 

sorrow of a season of discouragement. The Valley of Humiliation is not 

always a barren place; God's "forget-me-nots" are growing there, and 

are always to be found by those who know how to search for them; and 

the purple tassels of the Amarantus ("love-lies-bleeding") flourish 

abundantly in its shady groves. Do not let us dread any sorrow which 


the Lord may bring upon us; it is only when, by our own sin or 

willfulness, we fall into grief, that we need fear the consequences; for 

when our Lord casts us down, or lifts us up, both experiences are 

blessings—the one in grim disguise, the other in all the brightness of 

revealed love and pity. 

What a distrustful heart must mine be, dear Lord, when, after so much 

mercy in the past, I dare for a moment to doubt the loving purpose of 

Your present dispensations! As I think of the unequaled union of love 

and power which meet in the person of my Divine Redeemer, I am 

indeed ashamed of the unbelief which so often steals away my joys. 

It is the beginning of a glad uplifting when we realize that there is 

nothing impossible to our God, and that, however low we may be 

brought, His saving love is more than equal to the task of reaching and 

restoring us. 

"He took her by the hand." 

Do but imagine the thrill of returning health and joy which swept 

through that poor woman's frame when the cool, calm hand of the 

Savior was laid on her fevered and trembling fingers. "She arose, and 

ministered unto them." What a glad alacrity do these simple words 

express! Her heart would at once show its gratitude by service; and we 

can well believe that the hands, so recently touched by the Lord Jesus, 

would have acquired a skill and tenderness hitherto unknown or 

undeveloped. 

There was a healed and happy woman in Capernaum that day; and the 

same Lord still waits to be gracious to you, dear reader, and to me. O 

downcast soul, be no longer faithless and distressed! One stands 

beside you, who knows all your faintness and feebleness; and 

presently He will "make all His goodness pass before You," will lift you 

up, put strength into you, and so graciously deliver you, that you shall 

praise and glorify His dear Name "while life and breath remain." 

"The Lord brings low—and lifts up." 


A Feast for the Fainting 

"I don't want to send them away hungry, 

or they will faint along the road." Matt.15:32 

Blessed Master, these compassionate words of Yours, give us such an 

assuring glimpse into Your heart of infinite love and grace, that we 

thank You for permitting them to be recorded in Your Book! They 

manifest You so clearly to our human comprehension, that in them we 

see, "as in a glass," the reflection of Your Divine pity and power. 

There were some thousands of people, on that mountain side, who had 

been with the Lord for three days, receiving His gifts of healing, 

teaching, and cleansing; and they were evidently reluctant to leave 

Him. Yet the meager provision which, presumably, some had brought 

with them, had been consumed; and the Master's great loving heart 

found it impossible to dismiss them without food. During the three 

days, His Divine power had been in constant manifestation in the 

miracles which He had wrought; but, now, His human pity finds 

expression in His desire to give them something to eat, that they might 

not faint on their homeward road. 

And, since He was as really human as they were, and even then was 

"touched with the feelings of our infirmities," I do not think it 

irreverent to imagine that He, too, felt the need of earthly sustenance, 

and Himself partook of the bread and fish which He had blessed and 

broken. Surely, this tender care of the Lord Jesus for the bodily needs 

of the multitudes around Him, should comfort us greatly, and 

strengthen our faith in the fact which He unfolded to us when He said, 

"Your Heavenly Father knows that you have need of all these things." 

I wonder why it is, that we learn so slowly this sweet lesson of 

confidence in God, and are sometimes so backward in trusting Him 

with the safe management and supply of our temporal necessities. We 

would always be as carefree as the birds of the air, and as beautiful as 

the lilies of the field—if we depended on Him as absolutely as they do. 


And this is also true in spiritual matters. Can you think, poor longing, 

hungry hearts—that the Lord Jesus will be less pitiful to your soul's 

need than He was to that hungry multitude? Your hunger is keen for 

"the bread which came down from Heaven;" your thirst is 

unquenchable until "the water of life" touches your lips; you are ready 

for the blessing—the spiritual food which so far exceeds the earthly 

counterpart; so that you may be quite sure that He is readier still to 

bestow it. 

It matters not that the source of supply is not visible to you. "How 

could we have so much bread in the wilderness," said the undiscerning 

disciples, "as to fill so great a multitude?" They forgot, as we, alas! too 

often forget, "what manner of man" this is, and what He can 

accomplish by the power of His Word. See, dear soul, if you have come 

to the Lord hungering and thirsting for His love and pardon, it is not 

possible that He should send you away empty. His heart is too tender, 

His hands are too full of blessing, His desire to feed and comfort you is 

too intense, for there to be any failure on His part in supplying to you 

all that you crave. 

I know there are some who say that they are seeking Christ, and yet 

cannot find Him. Dear hearts, do not be angry with me—for I write for 

myself as well as for you—when I tell you that, if you are not fed, it 

must be because you will not eat! Suppose you had been one of that 

favored company on the mountainside, and that you had, at the Lord's 

command, sat down with the others; but when one of the disciples 

brought to you the basket of food, made ready by the Lord's own hand, 

and blessed by His own lips, you had refused to take it, from some 

foolish whim, or caprice, or doubt which possessed you, would you 

have had anyone to blame but yourself, had you fainted with 

exhaustion on your return journey over the hills of Judea to your 

home? 

Ah! None at that wonderful feast were as foolish and unreasonable as 

you and I sometimes are, for it is recorded that "they all ate, and were 

filled." There, as in the time of the old law given by Moses, they did 

"ate before the Lord;" and doubtless it was, to every man, woman, and 

child present, the sweetest and most sacred meal they had ever tasted; 

and there was no fainting in the way as they traversed the hills and 


plains, but rather a strengthening of heart, and a freshness of joy, and 

a filling of the mouth with songs of praise, as the result of that 

wondrous feast. 

Now, will not some poor sinful, suffering, starving one take heart from 

the teaching of this miracle, and come at once to the compassionate 

Savior to have all need supplied? The more hungry you are, the greater 

will be your joy in being filled; and He has said, "I will not send them 

away hungry." Trust Him, and be abundantly satisfied. My dear 

husband once happily said, "He may make us wait to awaken appetite, 

but He will not in the end dismiss us unfed." So, let nothing 

discourage you. Sit on the ground before Him, as He bids you, until 

the basket comes round; or, if the disciples pass you by, venture to His 

side, and take the blessing straight from His loving hand. He will never 

chide you for trusting Him too much! 

Unbelievers laugh to scorn our Scriptural confidence in an Omniscient 

God, who is also our tender Father. They ridicule the idea that He 

watches over us with Divinely parental solicitude, and Himself 

appoints and permits every event in our lives. But their derision does 

not alter or destroy the blessed fact, nor does it leave the least 

impression or disquietude on a believing heart. Yet it does distress us 

for their own sake. 

While these "personal notes" were taking shape in my mind, and, in 

the multitude of my thoughts within me, this comfort of God was 

delighting my soul, I happened to see a sharp criticism of a popular 

author's recent book, in which these words occurred—"brought up in 

the belief that Providence concerns itself with the petty details of their 

lives, in a manner most intimate and most improving—if chastening is 

improving." 

How my heart ached at the darkness and blindness of a man who 

could write like that! He would want none of my pity, I know; but I 

could not withhold it, nor could I rest until I had carried the matter 

before the Lord in prayer. Of course, I know there are thousands of 

people who are like-minded and skeptical; but that only increases my 

sorrow. To them, our loving, gracious God is simply "Providence 

itself;" -nothing more than a neutral agency, about which they know 


little, and care less; there is no personal tenderness—no near 

relationship—no "cords of a man, and bands of love," which draw their 

souls irresistibly into the blessedness of His loving-kindness and 

tender mercy. We speak that we do know, and testify that we have 

seen. Today, God's children can tell of deliverances as miraculous, of 

supplies as unexpected, and of dangers as certainly averted—as any of 

those recorded in the chronicles of the Kingdom! 

The Sight of Sights 

"We want to see Jesus." John 12:21 

Most probably, the "certain Greeks" here mentioned, who expressed 

the desire to see the Lord, were proselytes to the Jewish faith, for they 

had come to Jerusalem "to worship." Perhaps they had heard, in their 

own land, of the wonderful Man who claimed to be "the Messiah"; and 

it may be that some feeling, deeper than that of mere curiosity, stirred 

their hearts to seek His presence. However that may be, we make their 

request our own this morning, and very earnestly would we plead that 

a sight of the Lord Jesus, in His many endearing relations to us, may 

be vouchsafed to our waiting souls. "Let me see the King's face," is a 

prayer that can never be overlooked or disregarded at the court of the 

Majesty on High. 

What is it to "see" You, blessed Master? We cannot look upon You with 

our natural eyes, as these long-ago seekers expected to do; but if You 

will open the eyes of our soul, and give us the vision of faith, we shall 

spiritually discern You, and behold something of the heavenly beauty 

and grace of "Him who loved us, and washed us from our sins in His 

own blood." And even if You will but give to us a partial and halfconcealed 

view of Yourself, as You did to Your spouse, the Church, 

when she said, "He looks forth at the windows, showing Himself 


through the lattice," yet this will be inexpressibly precious; for, to see 

You, is to love You; and to love You, is to know that You have first 

loved us; and to know this, is Life Eternal! 

Lord, I would see You as You were when incarnate on this sin-stricken 

earth—meek, lowly, suffering, "acquainted with grief," veiling Your 

own glory by being made "in fashion as a man," that You might raise 

poor fallen men to the high estate of "heirs together" with You in Your 

Kingdom. I would see You as You did walk, with weary footstep, along 

that sad and gloomy valley of humiliation which ended in the cruel 

cross, Your precious death, Your glorious resurrection and ascension; 

and, as I gaze on all these wondrous mysteries and revelations of Your 

love, my faith overcomes all fear, and I cry out—My Lord, and my God 

—all this for me!" 

Lord, I would see You as You are now, in glory at the Father's right 

hand, waiting until "the kingdoms of this world are become the 

kingdoms of our Lord, and of His Christ; and He shall reign forever 

and ever." Until that blessed day shall dawn, You are watching over 

and interceding for Your own, comforting, strengthening, delivering 

them—caring for every item of their daily experience, keeping them 

abiding in Yourself, and preparing them for the inheritance which 

Your great love has secured to them through faith in Your Name. 

But, Lord, it is here and now that I desire most of all to see You; Your 

visits are so precious, Your fellowship most exceeding sweet. How the 

shadows flee away at Your approach, and the darkest night is 

lightened if You do but appear to me! One glimpse of Your face, one 

love-whisper from Your lips, ravishes my heart with a foretaste of 

Heaven's blessedness. 

Lord, I would see You in all my joys, not only receiving them as gifts 

from Your bountiful hand, but feeling that You Yourself share them 

with me, thus sanctifying and exalting them; and I would see You in 

every sorrow, when only Your voice can comfort, and Your sympathy 

reach to the depths of my suffering. I would see You when perplexed 

and anxious concerning either heavenly or earthly things, for You are 

"the wisdom of God," and I cannot go wrong, or do amiss, so long as I 

follow closely after You, and keep Your commandments. I would see 


You, You blessed One, in Your wondrous relation to me as my 

Redeemer, and my Husband! I would often look upon You as the 

Purchaser of my soul by Your own precious blood, and realize that the 

absolute surrender of myself, and my will, is but the natural 

consequence of such an unparalleled sacrifice as Yours! 

As these are "personal" notes, I may be pardoned for introducing a 

personal experience in illustration of my subject. A glimpse of the Lord 

Jesus was given me, just lately, under stress of temptation, in this way. 

It was a fair and lovely Sabbath morning when I awaked from sleep 

much depressed in spirit, and with a sense of coming evil heavy upon 

me. Presently, I felt the ominous warnings of an ague-fit, and feared I 

might again have to wrestle with the strong agitation which it 

produces. I had looked forward to a day of enjoyment and success with 

my small service for the Master; but my hopes were at once crushed, 

as I knew well the weakness and weariness, the loss of all physical and 

mental energy, which these painful attacks leave behind them. 

The enemy of souls immediately availed himself of the opportunity to 

molest and trouble me. Into my heart he threw wicked doubts of God's 

love and care, suggesting cruel and ungrateful thoughts of Him who is 

all tenderness and pity to His children. "God doesn't care," he hissed, 

"else He would not have permitted this pain and discomfort to come 

upon you at the very moment when you were anticipating a joyful day 

of rest. Is it likely that He thinks about you, and remembers your need, 

when He has the whole universe to support and control? You are very 

fond of saying, 'God never makes a mistake;' but are you quite sure 

there is a God at all? Do not all things happen by chance; or, at least, 

according to the ordinary course of nature?" 

Many more cruel and fiery darts he hurled at me; but, in a few 

moments, the blessed Spirit revealed the Lord Jesus to me as the 

Vanquisher of Satan, and the Deliverer of His people, and I was 

enabled to "resist the devil," and set him and his vile insinuations at 

defiance. I saw Jesus, by faith, as my faithful, unchangeable Savior, "a 

very present help in trouble;" I put my case into His hands, and He 

rebuked my enemy, liberated my soul, and caused me to triumph in 

Him alone. 


Oh, to be thus helped and comforted always! It is possible to those 

who look, and wait, and watch, for He is infinitely willing to reveal 

Himself to the soul which, "like a deer for water-brooks," pants after 

His presence, and thirsts to be refreshed by a draught of His love and 

grace. Surely, if we have ever known anything of the joy of seeing 

Jesus, we shall not rest content when He is absent, or close our eyes in 

willful indifference when He is passing by. 

And yet, alas! This is just what we often do, causing Him to withdraw 

Himself, or make His visits rare, and thus both grieving Him and 

wickedly sinning against our own souls. For, how desolate we are 

without Him! There is no real joy, no happiness, no satisfaction to be 

found except in Him. My life is as a vine stripped of its fruit, a fire 

extinguished and dead, a sky without a star, and a landscape without 

the sun—if Jesus be not with me. 

And if this be really so, what cause have I for deep thanksgiving and 

gratitude, for if I missed You not, dear Lord, when You are gone away, 

I might well doubt if ever Your presence had been manifested to me. A 

soul, once feasted on the dainties of Your love, can never again enjoy 

the coarse and unclean fare provided by the world. One thing I know, 

blessed Master, I would now sooner starve than feed upon earthly 

delights; I would rather always mourn after You, than be content 

without You; I would choose to pass my life in seeking and sighing for 

You, rather than be one of those poor blind mortals who can say, 

"There is no beauty in Him that we should desire Him." 

May our eyes be constantly looking up for the sweet vision, and our 

prayer be continually, "Lord, that I may receive my sight!" For, many a 

time, I doubt not, we might have seen Him but for eyes blurred with 

tears of self-pity, or aching with the windblown dust of the world's 

pleasures or pains, or dim with the long-cherished doubt and sadness 

which becloud our upward glances. Oh, for the day when we shall "see 

His face" without a veil between, and gaze unhindered upon the 

glorious loveliness of Him who loved us even unto death! 

I never look with satisfaction or emotion on any pictured semblance of 

the Savior. They all seem so far, far below the ideal which is in my 

heart, that they utterly fail to set forth either the grief or the hidden 


glory which must have dwelt in His blessed countenance. But this does 

not matter, if I see Him by faith. If I "endure as seeing Him who is 

invisible," I can then be content to wait until He meets me in the 

Homeland, and I see Him as He is! 

The Spotless Spouse 

"You are so beautiful, My beloved; there is no spot in you.” 

Solomon's Song 4:7 

"Ah!" I hear some timid, trembling believer say, "such a text can have 

nothing to do with me! I am the very opposite of all that is beautiful 

and spotless. The eyes of my soul have seen hideous sights within, 

which I can never forget; and I loathe myself and my sin so much that, 

though I believe God has forgiven me for Christ's sake, I feel it 

impossible to take those precious words as addressed to one so sinful 

and imperfect." 

Yet, trembling soul, I would bid you take courage, and look up. Christ's 

love for His people is marvelously set forth in this Song of Songs; and 

if you are a believer in Him, you must be part of that Church—as much 

His bride and spouse as the greatest saint, or most renowned disciple. 

The Master makes no difference between upper and lower servants in 

His household. The same price was paid to redeem the least lamb of 

the flock, as for the choicest sheep; the same precious blood was 

poured out to ransom the feeblest child of the great family, as for its 

strongest and most notable member. 

Come, then, timid one, fear not to grasp the truth now put before you; 

delay not to rejoice in the blessed fact that you are indeed precious to 

the Lord; and when He says, "You are all beautiful, My beloved," do 

not contradict Him by lamenting your blackness; but, rather, 

adoringly bow before Him in wonder at the miracle His love has 

wrought in you. It ill becomes the bride of Christ to ignore His 

loveliness, which He has put upon her, and go about bemoaning the 

scars and blemishes which His great love overlooks and forgets. 


It is quite true that, in themselves, believers are sorrowfully imperfect 

and sinful; but if the Lord Jesus, in His marvelous mercy, unrobes 

Himself to cover over their unrighteousness, they may well be content 

to be thus made "beautiful" in His sight. Do you ask, "Why should He 

do this?" Look at the succeeding words, "My beloved." We cannot 

comprehend the mystery and sublimity of Divine love; but it is the sole 

and all-sufficient reason for the dear Lord's estimate of us; and when 

He uses such endearing language, our hearts melt and are ravished by 

His condescension. Even as earthly affection is intensified and 

nourished by tender tones and words of special grace, so, (with 

reverence we say it,) when our dear Master deigns to address us in 

accents of love and admiration, our souls are thrilled with heavenly 

bliss, and we are uplifted beyond all the sorrows and vexations of this 

world, into an atmosphere of unspeakable spiritual joy! To be "the 

beloved of the Lord," to "dwell in safety by Him," as our Husband and 

dearest Friend, is so high an attainment, and so glorious a privilege, 

that it must forever be a marvel why we are so listless in seeking it, or 

so sinfully content without it. 

"My beloved," Oh, say it again, dear Master! Let the music of Your 

voice touch and vibrate through the deepest chords of my nature, and 

awaken sweet responses in my soul! You are the fount and source of all 

love; oh, fill me, overwhelm me, plunge me in this sea of mercy and of 

grace! I would be swallowed up in it, knowing no other joy or bliss 

comparable to that of being able to say, "My Beloved is mine—and I 

am His." 

"There is no spot in you." Can our loving Lord really mean this, and 

mean it of you and I, dear reader? He does, indeed, if only we have 

believed on His Name to the saving of our soul, and trusted in His 

precious blood to wash away all our sin. But is it not a love passing 

knowledge which can cause such a statement to be absolute truth? 

"There is no spot in you." "Where, then, are all my spots, dear Lord, 

for they were legion; and sin must have rendered me vile and 

loathsome in Your pure sight?" The reply comes direct from the Lord's 

own Word: "When I passed by you, and looked upon you, behold, your 

time was the time of love. So I spread the edge of My garment over you 


and covered your nakedness. I pledged Myself to you, entered into a 

covenant with you, and you became Mine!" 

"Before He saved her, well He knew, 

What a heart like her's would do." 

All the uncleanness—past, present, and future—all the deformity and 

blackness is put aside by love, cleansed away by blood, covered by 

Christ's righteousness; and so completely is this done, that God 

Himself can find no remnant or stain of that which would have meant 

eternal death to an unwashed soul. Oh, the "riches of the glory of this 

mystery," this mighty power which lifts a poor sinner from the depths 

of sin—to the heights of heavenly bliss! "What kind of love is this?" It 

is so Divine and incomprehensible that, in the contemplation of it, we 

are lost in wonder and amazement, and have to cry out, with the 

disciples of old, "Lord, increase our faith! " 

"There is no spot in you." An old writer says—"Now, if God sees no 

spot, why should you be prying after one? Poring over your misery, 

searching after your blackness and depravity, will be no help to you. It 

is only keeping your eye off Jesus, instead of up unto Jesus. You 

cannot look two ways at once. How did the poor serpent-bitten 

Israelites in the wilderness get relief and healing? By looking to their 

sores, their wounds, their malady? Oh, no! it was by looking to the 

brazen serpent! And if you would get relief, it must be by looking to 

Jesus Christ!" 

Now, my poor heart, will you not accept your Lord's own verdict 

concerning you, and rejoice in His assurance that you are lovely with 

His loveliness which He has put upon you? That HE thinks you to be 

"all beautiful" will make you guard against any defilement, and keep 

aloof from anything which could sully your purity. That He should say, 

"My beloved," will help you to listen more eagerly for His sweet voice, 

waiting upon His lips lest one love-word should be lost. And that He 

should declare, "There is no spot in you," will make you so tenderly 

circumspect that you will be enabled to "walk worthy of God" and of 

love so unspeakable and Divine. 


Lord Jesus, what a glorious Savior You are! How can Your bride, Your 

Church, tell forth her delight in Your beauty? All the sin, which made 

her SO black and vile, was laid upon You; yet it only made You "fairer 

than the children of men;" and the bearing of that awful burden does 

but immeasurably enhance the glory which was Your with the Father 

before the world was created. How sorrowful it is that such love should 

be despised and rejected by thousands whom it could and would save 

from eternal death! 

The question comes pertinently, "What do you think you of Christ?" 

Bless the Lord, if we can make answer, "He is the chief among ten 

thousand! Yes, He is altogether lovely!" 

Susannah Thompson Spurgeon (1832-1903), prolific author, book supplier, 

and devoted wife to the famous Baptist preacher of the second half of the 

nineteenth-century, Charles Haddon Spurgeon. They married in January, 

1856 and had twin sons, Charles and Thomas. Susannah co-edited Smooth 

Stones Taken From Ancient Brooks in 1855 with Charles, and in 1886 she 

authored Ten Years of My Life in the Service of the Book Fund. She started 

a Book Fund to give theological books to impoverished pastors, and by 1903 

had distributed over 200,000 volumes. She wrote three books, including A 

Basket of Summer Fruit. 

Susannah’s writing is most remembered today through C. H. Spurgeon’s 

Autobiography. She co-edited and contributed to this immense work, 

originally produced in four volumes. 

Susannah’s example of a life of selfless service – even in the midst of illness 

and sorrow – is a tremendous example of a life lived to the glory of God. 

Your ways, O Lord, are past finding out, but they are very gracious and 

tender; and this turning of seeming evil into good, of making your 

children’s trials grow into triumphs, and their pains into pleasures, 

is a wonderful proof both of your pity and your power. 

– Susannah Spurgeon

A Basket of Summer Fruit Susannah Spurgeon

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