The Discipline of War | Page 3

dead to-morrow." The flesh says,
"Perhaps I shall catch a cold"; the spirit says, "That fear wouldn't keep
you from going to a Picture Palace." The flesh says, "Perhaps he won't
care to see me to-day"; the spirit replies, "It's a dull, wet afternoon, and
he's very likely to be alone."
Now notice that at the back of each set of motives is a vital principle. In
the one case the lower self, in the other the higher self, that is to say "I"
and "God."
The purely natural, human side of even the greatest saint would prefer
to sit over the fire; but then our nature is not left unassisted, and even in
a simple thing like this God the Holy Ghost comes to our aid with His
suggestions of the higher course, and illuminates the path of duty. That
is one of the most blessed features of the ministry of the Spirit; He
enlightens, He persuades, He never compels: if He did, your will would
not be free.
This explains what the discipline of the will really means. It is just the
laying of ourselves open to the voice of the living God, speaking within
us.
As we do this, day by day, the will itself becomes braced and
strengthened, so that the struggle against the lower nature grow less and
less fierce, the power of choosing the higher course more and more
easy.
Here is our first practical thought for this Lent.
Watch yourself and your life, especially in those particulars in which
you know that you have been getting out of hand. The prayers omitted,
curtailed, said carelessly, said or attempted in bed, instead of on your
knees: what a grievous failure, isn't it?

The carelessness about preparation before and thanksgiving after
Communion, the irregularity of your attendances; the habit of
Self-Examination, or of Confession, dropped--why? The Bible
neglected.
Then the self-indulgences in the matter of sleep, food, drink, and purely
wasted hours.
All these things are sapping the manhood and dignity of the will.
Sometimes even more dangerously and insidiously than open sins,
because with regard to these conscience does speak; but when we are
merely drifting down the stream of time, the pleasant lapping of the
ripples on the side of the bark lulls conscience into fatal sleep.
Look at your life, ask yourself the question, boldly and honestly, what
is the principle upon which it is being lived, God or self? When the
answer comes you will see clearly the first steps to take in the
disciplining of the will.
Glorious examples of what can be done abound around you. Think you
there has been no struggle on the part of those tens of thousands who
have given up comforts, home, prospects, harmless pleasures, in
exchange for the ghastly miseries of the trenches, the appalling risks by
land, on or beneath the sea, in the air, all at the call of a stern,
compelling duty, which told them that the life really worth living was
the one spent, laid down if need be, for King and country?
Think too of the heroism of the wives, the mothers, the sweethearts, on
whose lips there must have trembled over and again, "I will not, I
cannot let you go." Yet the will was disciplined, the words remained
unspoken, the tears were shed in secret, and these brave hearts, even in
breaking, shall find their reward.
It was at Waterloo one afternoon, a young officer was being seen off
for the front by father, brother, and _fiancée_. The two former bravely
and cheerily said their good-bye, and withdrew a little to leave the
young couple for their farewell; a kiss, a close embrace, outward smiles,
but tears very near the eyes; and then as the officer got into the carriage

just this one remark: "It's precious hard upon the women." What a
world of meaning there was in that.
Above all, as your pattern and your power, look to Him Who said, "I
came down from Heaven not to do mine own will but the will of Him
that sent Me."
_For suggested meditations during the week, see Appendix._

II
=The Discipline of the Body=
FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT
1 Cor. ix. 27
"I buffet my body, and bring it into bondage."
On Ash Wednesday we were considering some purely subjective
realities, such as principles, motives, will--things we could not see.
To-day we think about a very objective substance, ever present to our
senses--our body. A man may deny point blank the existence of his
soul--using the word in its ordinary acceptation--he cannot say, "I have
not got a body." Even if he should conceive of that body as a mere
bundle of ideas, an accumulation of sensations, yet there it is, making
itself felt in countless