Creator

John Muir

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Circa Date

circa 1887

Transcription

who love you, in pagan lands or Christian lands. I had almost said, in heaven or hell – that man would sit in the best place in the warmest end of your heart. Ah wouldn’t he Bradley. I know he would. Where then should you put Jesus Where have you put him? Is he not too often pushed aside among the dear, airy nothings in the most confused corner of your heart? Ah how truly it may be said of thousands who say Jesus is mine, “I know not where they have laid him.”

The good man who left his company for awhile to lead you to his fireside and lovingly tended you, him you will remember with steady deep love while memory lasts; but Jesus who came away from his home in heaven, as happy a home as God was able to make, him you do not love so much, nor even as much as you would love me were I to walk down to your place some fine day and ask you how you did. How ungrateful and unreasonable. The benevolent man who blessed you with so many kindnesses was only a sinful fellow mortal some gold and some friends, perhaps attracted by that gold and some other things soon to

perish and pass away made the only significant difference between you. But Jesus is the son of God, “By him the worlds were made”. By him all things consist “He it is who seeks you and suffers for you to save you.” Again, you begged the good man to have pity on you, besides you never did to him any harm. But it was long ere you ever begged Jesus to help you that he came away here to bless you. So far from humbly begging assistance in time of need, you said, “I desire not the knowledge of thy ways”, “I need nothing from you”. Do not these things make mighty odds in favor of Jesus in the claim for gratitude and love. No good man came only to the door when it stormed; that was not much of a deed. But Christ came far from his home, and out into the storm – a far greater and more bitter storm than we are able to conceive of and remained out in it all his life on earth – going about doing good drinking deep of every sorrow, with no place to lay his head at night, loving all of us, meekly suffering every kind of wrong and abuse, his kindest words and deeds misjudged

Date Occurred

1856; 1860

Contributing Institution

Holt-Atherton Special Collections, University of the Pacific Library

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