Gems Written at the Age of 15

The Hidden Life

Gleanings from the journal of Whitmore Winslow

written at the age of 15.

His journal, which was previously unknown to his family,

was found among his papers after his unexpected death,

at the age of 21. He died in 1856, and was the son of

Octavius Winslow.

A picture repulsive to every refined feeling.

Truly does the world present a picture repulsive to

every refined feeling. It is devoid of all sources of

true happiness to its earnest seekers, and produces

no end of evils, embittering the life of man, and

ensnaring his heedless steps.

It is a field of conflict between two opposite powers.

The one winning his foes to his side by overwhelming

love, and subduing them into perfect submission by the

power of irresistible goodness.

The other, enlisting his adherents by the offer of

false happiness, alluring them by spurious pleasures,

only to disappoint their hopes, and when life has

spun out its last thread of existence to engulf them

in eternal despair.

How it ensnares, and allures,

and taunts, and disappoints!

What a wretched world it is! How it ensnares,

and allures, and taunts, and disappoints!

I am persuaded that a Christian cannot remain

in worldly company, or be engaged in anything

worldly, without his heavenly mindedness being

damaged, and his holy feelings and resolutions

being vitiated and weakened.

Christ's unchanging love and tenderness

Christ's unchanging love and tenderness scatter

all the gloomy mists and dark clouds of our pilgrimage,

and gladden the drooping spirit.

Cheer up, tried and tempted Christian!

A blissful eternity will make up for all the crosses

and trials, the bitters and woes of the present. Then

shall real happiness dawn upon your spirit, warming

and delighting your soul through eternity.

Strive not for the world's smiles; they are deceitful.

And fear not its scorn while God smiles upon you.

This bewitching world, these alluring pleasures!

What a changeful world is this, and

what changeable creatures are we!

Oh, how have I seen this in myself and in others!

Friends whom I have most trusted have suddenly

grown cold and indifferent, freezing my affections

by their unfaithfulness and wavering.

But, oh, has not this some end? Methinks I see it.

The world's charms have too much allured my gaze

from Jesus and fixed it upon its empty bubbles.

And was not this trial sent to deaden my affections

to the world, and fix them upon something more

substantial? O yes, it was all for my good.

This bewitching world, these alluring pleasures,

how they ensnare! O God, keep me from their power.

May I be weaned from them, and attracted to

Jesus, finding the center of my happiness in

leaning in sweet repose upon His bosom who

never changes nor forsakes those who put

their trust in Him.

We sometimes envy the wicked

How sweet is a calm after the tempest! It would

not do for us were it always smooth. The little

roughness of the way increases the pleasantness

of the calm.

How little do we value a blessing until it is taken

from us; and yet how unconcerned and lifeless we

are until stirred up by adverse circumstances. O

how should we value every chastisement we receive!

We sometimes envy the wicked because they seem

to go on sinning, and yet unpunished. Did we but

realize that it is a Father's hand that is guiding us,

and that it is because He loves and cares for us

that He chastises us.

The ungodly He leaves to themselves until their

eternal punishment. But He watches over His children

with the eye of a father, and all that He does is for

their good now and hereafter.

O what a blessing to be one of His children, to have

such a Protector, such a Friend! He is worth all the

dearest friends the world can produce.

The believer's life

The believer's life, though short and passing as a

vapor, is eventful of circumstances of the greatest

significance. It is a period allotted to him to prepare

for another world. And oh, what a blessed thought

that there is another and a better world!

We shall soon leave our present abode, full of sin

and full of sorrow, changeful as the wind. Friends

change, circumstances change, age changes; soon

the light and joyous childhood of our youth begins

to taste the bitters of life, and his sincere and

happy brow becomes wrinkled with anxiety and

care; old age creeps on, and we apparently are

insensible of it. But soon it will be over, and a

happy eternity follows.

The Christian has his happiness to anticipate;

the sinner his eternal misery to look forward to.

Oh, it is better to be at the disposal of God than

at any moment to have the full control of ourselves!

Infectious, ensnaring, delusive

So infectious is the world, so bright and ensnaring,

yet in reality so delusive, that before you are aware,

it will arrest your glance, steal upon your affections,

and so deaden your spirituality and communion with

God, and thus call for some gentle chastening of your

heavenly Father to bring you back again to His bosom.

Look not for happiness in anything connected with the world.

I, as a youth, have done so, and have been disappointed.

There is no pleasure of any description, I am fully

persuaded, that is not accompanied with some bitter.

God has wisely ordained that Christians in general

should partake but little of this world's enjoyments,

that they may not make the world their home, but

that, all their thoughts taken up with Christ, their

eyes may be blind to its pleasures and enjoyments.

Oh, what will be the ecstasy of that moment!

If there are two things that will more fill us with

wonder and amazement when we arrive at heaven

than another, it will be, first, that we ever got there;

and second, the vast difference of the world we have

left to the one we shall then enjoy! Oh, what will be

the ecstasy of that moment when we find ourselves

in heaven!

And yet we are so mad and so blind as to fear to die,

still clinging to this poor world! Sometimes in solitude

I look forward and enjoy the anticipation of a better

state.

Oh, if this should ever meet the eye of an afflicted

child of God, whatever may be your trials, dry up

those untimely tears, brighten up that saddened

countenance, and look forward with the confident

and blessed assurance of an eternity of bliss.

Your thoughts of affliction are not as God's thoughts.

If your limited comprehension cannot take in the

wisdom of all His plans with regard to you. What

you deem most unfavorable, God regarding as

most beneficial. Yet thank Him, if He is weaning

you from this poor world, although the means

He uses may appear to you most grievous.

True religion

The religion of God has to do with the heart,

whatever may be the sect to which a man belongs.

In the matter of his salvation he has not to do with

churches, or with opinions, or with creeds, but with God.

True religion consists not in notions, forms, or outward

profession. These can avail a man but little when he

is laid upon a dying bed, and is about to appear before

God, when the great question will be, not to what sect

or church he belonged, but how he, a vile and fallen

sinner, can be justified before God?

No sect, or church, or religion, can possibly be

honoring to God which sets aside Christ and His

atonement, and lays its foundations in wretched

SELF.

When is affliction sweet?

When can we thank God for it.

When it brings us near to Jesus.

When it fixes our wandering thoughts and desires

upon One that is mighty; mighty not only to save,

but to make us happy in this dark valley of tears.

Oh, it compensates us for all the humblings and

disappointments which we may experience.

'Sweet affliction,

That brings Jesus to my soul.'

A glimpse of Jesus is a little heaven below.

Who would not part with the world's honors,

reputation, or wealth, to gain it? And yet we

are so prone to fix our affections upon these

poor baubles which must soon pass away.

Happy is he whose lot is cast with the tried,

the poor, the humble of Christ's flock, for there

Jesus abides.