" At that time Herod the tetrarch heard of the fame of Jesus, and said unto his servants, This is John the Baptist ; he is risen from the dead ; and therefore mighty works do shew forth themselves in him." — Matt. 14 : 1, 2.

THE bloody head of the man of God was not easily wiped from the memory of Herod. The horrible deed had kindled something of the flame which could not be quenched, and restless horrors startled him with the creepings of " the worm that never dies." The day of grace had been despised, and had faded into the night of feverish, startling dreams, the shadows of despair. Let us look closely at this man's soul, and see the traces of God's avenging finger. Let us, if possible, allow the terrible warning of Herod's doom speak out to those who dare despise God's day of mercy.

The gay assembly of the birthday festivities was soon gone. The stimulating excitement



of false pride, cooling, died into sickly, loathing disgust. Self-respect stood mutilated before the bar of conscience. The silence of life called the soul into her hushed chambers, and turned it loose . upon itself, and the poor cowardly heart is left to the irrevocable consequences of its miserable selfishness and weakness. Never again could Herod go in his hours of weakness and soul-tempest to hear the deep, true, strong soul of John calling him into a safe and higher life. The cistern of pure waters was broken, so he could no more refresh his polluted soul therefrom. John was beheaded, but Herod died. He had sinned against his better self and his God. Everything that could create and intensify remorse was in his life, and it haunted him as spectres from the tombs. John the Baptist still lived before his tormented soul, no longer as a victim of his power and malice, but as one whose very life of holiness existed to haunt him. All


that by God's grace might have been turned into real rest, joy, peace, love, and glory, had by sin been made to his soul visions of condemning wrath, gathering about him from their


tombs. One word of command could cast John's body from his prison-house a lifeless trunk, but all the combined powers of his being could not cast his memory from the terrified soul.

Here, then, is one of the legacies good and true lives leave the world. They are as truly " a savor of death unto death" to the unrelenting wicked, as they are of life unto life to the fearers and lovers of God. And yet what a temptation Satan ever makes for people, and especially young people, to neglect and even deride and persecute the good about them. How often do we hear it said, and how much oftener is it felt, " that the fear of being laughed at and being persecuted by the world


keeps me back from Christ." And who is this tormenting world ? They are men and women who break over the blessings and mercies God throws around them, with a hollow pretence of courage and greatness, to cast disdain upon Him. Let me here speak a word of warning from the depths of my heart, praying God's spirit to plant it as a living seed in yours. The days will come when those mes-


sengers of good, so lovingly sent from God, *will be called away. Their Father loves them too much to keep them exposed to the indignities and persecutions of a bold bad world ; and, once gone, your heart-hopes will wander about, seeking, as it were, comfort and sympathy from the tombs. Your future rest becomes a half-hoped, half-dreaded vision of ghastly apparitions. Your treacherous heart will wake up all too late to the vastness of the never-to-be-restored loss. They are gone, gone, gone, and left a great loneliness in life,


a great darkness in hope, a great restlessness in peace, a great void in the heart that earth can never 'fill, but which stands trembling, dreading, yet yearning toward the graveyard, where your rashness has driven, all too soon, the sweetest, loveliest, and truest friends of your heart. Few are the souls who cannot look back and see some terrible blight caused by sinful intent or neglect. What would you give to-day to have the holy influence of that pious, praying mother, long since laid away to rest, whose soul-yearnings in days gone by you almost despised and trampled under foot,


whose prayers you thought beneath the dignity of your young spirit, whose advice you haughtily scorned ? Well, she has gone to " the echoless shore," and, call as you will, you cannot bring her back. You may see some great and mighty doings of God's spirit, and hear of the wonders of His grace, as the battle deepens and the conquest goes forward, and it will


make you realize that your mother's holy influence lives again ; but she comes not back to your yearning heart and empty life.

We need not pass beyond the tomb to realize Herod's emotions. There are death-scenes in every life as sad as the hushed grave. We have murdered associations that spoke peace, comfort, strength, and love to our hearts — murdered them in some false pride, some harsh moment of vindictiveness, some evil hour of darkness, which passed and left us but a corpse of joys that lived nearest and deepest within our hearts. What can all the fascinations of the world's giddy, pleasing device, which made us do the rash deed, pay us for these ? What can all its gaudy, empty, mocking hollowheartedness give us for lost jewels of heavenly


purity and holy value ? No, they are gone, and the powers they once wielded in us seem but the doings of departed spirits as we hear


of them from without. We may hear of others' pleasures, and see others' joys, and we may feel John the Baptist has risen from the dead ; but we also feel that he will not come back to us, however much we may desire to see him. And if we, like Herod, abuse God's mercies by His servants, we, like Herod, will stand one day before the King of pity and throne of mercy, all unanswered. Jesus will become as silent to the Herods of the nineteenth century as He was to Herod the tetrarch.

But there is another thought here for the child of God. However much he may be despised and persecuted, yet his trueness to God must carve its testimony on the stony hearts of this world ; his light must leave its traces amid the gathered gloom ; his purity must breathe its fragrance amid the sickening fumes of death. God will be glorified. Even though the darkness may not comprehend the light that shines in it, yet will the eyes of heaven rejoice in its glory. We live for others -than



the wicked of this world and age. We are passing on amid scenes and hosts and glories whose vastness appals the comprehension. Our bearing amid the scenes and struggles of the conflict thrill other spirits than those of the enemy. Ah ! the seen is such a small part of life compared to the unseen ; earth's issues are so insignificant compared to the great bringings forth of eternity ! We shall as really enter into the joys of judgment and justice as we shall those of mercy and love. We must have our Herods — foxes who would sacrifice all we hold sacred and dear for mere worldly fame or pleasure — strong powers who appear to circumscribe and imprison our usefulness, and keep us back from the work of God. Let us remember that one of God's grandest works is to make grace stand out superior to these, and rise above their narrow, brief prison walls into the unmeasured vastness of the glory about us — the overwhelming joy of the sons of God — for we are truly "come unto Mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable


company of angels, to the general assembly


and church of the first-born which are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel." Here, then, is our stand. To the wicked we may leave dim forebodings and dreadings ; but for us, the so glorious realities stand out in all the fulness and clearness of the love of God.

1. 68 FREE BOOKS http://www.scribd.com/doc/21800308/Free-Christian-Books

2. ALL WRITINGS http://www.scribd.com/glennpease/documents?page=1000


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