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THE CHILD-LIKE HEART

Whosoever, therefore, shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of Heaven."-MATTHEW xviii. 4.

OF two elements of the child-like heart I speak now, and of their likeness to the same elements in the religious heart-of Love and Trustfulness.

It

Our young love is the child of the tender care of parents, long continued, minute and watchful. is not very deep, for the deepest love is made of a million threads woven together into the closest web in the work of many years, and in different weathers of life. It does not possess the rapture and the ecstasy which come with that passion in after life. It is a quiet, natural, unconscious feeling, asking no questions of itself, undeformed in the healthiest natures by jealousy, unspoiled by the ebb and flow of passion's changing sea. It is the air the child breathes, and though he would pine were it removed,

he does not think of it, or discuss it, or even seem conscious of it.

And this is the truest picture of the love we should bear to One whom we believe to be our Father in Christ Jesus; a love which we do not seek to define lest we should spoil it, which has its roots in the unconscious gratitude which we give Him for His watchful care, which makes us happy we know not why, which keeps us from wrong, not because we are afraid of punishment, but because we do not like to do Him wrong. It is without the storms of any passion, calm by reason of its being the natural and healthy atmosphere of the soul. Untroubled by our thoughts of it, or by doubts of it, we do not even consciously thank God for it our thanks are in our enjoyment of it, as flowers thank the sun.

This is the sort of love which lasts the longest and bears the tempest best, which is, indeed, astonished by punishment, but never thinks of being angry with God for it; which cries aloud at times, but only clasps the closer for its pain the knees of God. There is another kind, unlike to this, of love to God. It is intensely self-conscious, it watches its own ebb and flow with morbid fear and morbid joy. It questions its own existence, it thrills with painful excitement. It demands much,

it exhausts itself to give more and more, it can neither let God nor itself alone. I do not say that it is not a true affection, but it is unnaturally wrought. It imports the passions of jealousy and anxiety into the relation of a child to a father, and it is subject, like earthly love, to woful re-actions. It often breaks down under trial, it is sometimes stricken dead by temptation, and not rarely after such a death, it rises again as anger, unbelief, or despair. Do not seck its hot rooms and its intoxication of feeling. Keep in the fresh air which blows across the meadows of your childhood, and love God as you loved your father and mother. That will last.

From such a love is born perfect trust. Of all rare things on earth, and of all beautiful things, trustfulness is the most beautiful and the most rare. True, it is hard to trust, for we have been often deceived; but when we find trustfulness in friend or lover, it charms as nothing else can do. And on us it has a reflex influence; it keeps us true, for no baseness is so great as its betrayal.

In happy childhood we have its continual beauty before our eyes. Trust is natural to the child, and he has no experience of betrayal. But even though this trust, being but instinctive, has no merit in the children, it is our greatest pleasure with them. More even than our natural instinct of love of

them, it keeps us faithful to them. It strengthens our love and makes it new, and yet deeper, each day. It is all but impossible to repulse it, and the tales of those who have requited with cruelty the trust of the child who stole his hand into theirs, and looked up for protection into their eyes, give us a wordless horror.

Watch a child with his parents, Wherever they are he is at home. He plays, he lives in their shadow which is his shelter. He refers his trivial joys to them, and claims their interest without a shade of doubt. He abides upon their word as on truth itself; in the slightest ill or pain he runs to them, secure of the sympathy he demands as his right. Should a doubt intrude, his trust is stronger. It takes much consistent falsehood and harshness to chill the trust of your child in you. And in his heart he attains that deep rest which enables him, by removing all fear and referring all difficulties to another, to be as restless in pleasure as he likes to be. He knows that he will be checked when he is going too far or into wrong, and he gives himself up to enjoyment without trouble. Is not his life and its direction in other and higher hands than his own?

Not that he reasons on this, or is conscious of it. He feels at rest, and does not ask why. This, too, is the continual picture of the trust of a religious

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man in God. Only he does reason on it, and his heart, as befits a man, is conscious of whom it trusts, and why. He is at home when he travels in the country, in the city, in the loneliest hour, in all the world, for he knows that God is with him, and that his life is hidden in the hollow of his Father's hand. There is nothing too trivial for him to ask his Father about, no sympathy too great to demand from God, for he knows he will get it. He may doubt on questions of theology, but he never doubts the goodness and love of God to men. He may see no way out of trouble, but he never thinks that God will not redeem him when it is right, and he is content to wait. He does wrong, and is miserable, but his misery does not hurry him away from God in fear, but drives him home, trembling, weeping, but certain of forgiveness. And so it comes to pass, that in that trust he has, even here, the rest which remaineth, and the peace which Christ left to the children of his Father. For his life is in other hands than his own, in wiser, gentler hands. He can take the world as it comes and enjoy it, and do his work in it, and be cheerful and natural, knowing that when he exceeds or slips into folly or sin, he will be told of it by One who watches and guides him unremittingly. He rests on the faithfulness of God. And God repays the trust of His child, be certain, by His pleasure in it.