His friends said he wasted his precious life; but was that life wasted when Jesus was crucified?
George MacDonald in one of his little poems, with deep spiritual insight, presents this truth of the blessed gain of Christ's life through his sacrifice and death:-- "For three and thirty years, a living seed, A lonely germ, dropt on our waste world's side, Thy death and rising, thou didst calmly bide; Sore compassed by many a clinging weed Sprung from the fallow soil of evil and need; Hither and thither tossed, by friends denied; Pitied of goodness dull, and scorned of pride; Until at length was done the awful deed, And thou didst lie outworn in stony bower-- Three days asleep--oh, slumber godlike, brief, For Man of sorrows and acquaint with grief, Heaven's seed, Thou diedst, that out of thee might tower Aloft, with rooted stem and shadowy leaf Of all Humanity the crimson flower." People said that Harriet Newell's beautiful life was wasted when she gave it to missions, and then died and was buried far from home--bride, missionary, mother, saint, all in one short year,--without even telling to one heathen woman or child the story of the Saviour.

But was that lovely young life indeed wasted?
No; all this century her name has been one of the strongest inspirations to missionary work, and her influence has brooded everywhere, touching thousands of hearts of gentle women and strong men, as the story of her consecration has been told.

Had Harriet Newell lived a thousand years of quiet, sweet life at home, she could not have done the work that she did in one short year by giving her life, as it seemed, an unavailing sacrifice.

She lost her life that she might save it.

She died that she might live.
She offered herself a living sacrifice that she might become useful.
In heart and spirit we must all do the same if we would ever be a real blessing in the world.