Joan's Secret: And Other Talks With Boys and Girls
J.E. Hayne
Table of Contents
Joan's Secret
JOAN was very happy in her beautiful home, and no wonder, for almost everything, that could be desired was hers, and good health to enjoy it. The pretty house, her own dear little room, the charming garden with its winding paths and flower-beds, the dog, the cat, and a pair of tame rabbits, and, last, but not least, a baby brother and a loving father and mother; what more could she want? Yet something seemed to be troubling her mind. Mother noticed it, but said nothing; one day, she thought, the secret will come out; and so it did. It was during a visit of her favorite uncle, to whom she always told her troubles.
“Uncle, I want to ask you something very secret, may I?" said Joan. (Mother had gone out now, and they were alone.)
“Certainly, Joan dear; what is it?" Then she began to tell him how happy she was, and how she loved her playmates and surroundings, and she whispered, "I don't want to leave them.”
“What makes you think you are going to leave them? What has put that into your head, Joan?" asked her uncle.
“Mother has been telling me about the coming of Jesus in the clouds, suddenly, nobody knows when, but it may be very soon, and He is going to take us away to be with Him in heaven; and—and—I don't want to go and leave it all; at least, not yet," and she put her hand in her uncle's and hid her face.
“So that's the trouble, is it! Well, Joan, you are not the only one who has had similar thoughts, though perhaps they may not have mentioned them to any one. There is always the danger with young people, especially when they are enjoying a happy spell in their lives, to think that these pleasant times are going to last. Those who are older have learned by bitter experience what a changing scene this is, and how, just when things seem brightest, something often comes in to spoil it. Everything in this world is uncertain; 'thou knowest not what a day may bring forth.'”
“But doesn't God want us to be happy down here?" said Joan.
“Yes, indeed; it is quite right to enjoy the good things God has given us, never forgetting daily to thank Him for them. The Bible says, 'He giveth us richly all things to enjoy.' (1 Tim. 6:17.) But in this world of sin we can never be fully happy; there is always the knowledge that something unexpected may happen; death may break in and upset all our happiest plans. When Jesus comes for us, it will be to take us to His Father's house, to the mansions He has gone to prepare for us; remember it says in Psa. 16
‘In thy presence is fullness of joy; at thy
right hand there are pleasures for evermore.'
Surely, Joan, you would not mind changing your earthly joys for these heavenly ones which never fade away?”
Joan's face brightened up, and she said, "I see, uncle, I see; when Jesus comes it will be something happier still.”
“Now, Joan, it is my turn to ask you something. Are you quite sure that, when Jesus comes, you won't be left behind? Father and mother will go, I know, for they belong to Jesus; but what about you?”
Joan did not hesitate. "I belong to Jesus too, uncle. Jesus died for sinners. Father taught me a text only last Sunday: 'While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.' (Rom. 5:8.) I know I’m a sinner, and I've told Jesus so; and I believe He died for me, and I often thank Him. No, uncle, I'm sure He won't leave me behind!
“Thank God for that, Joan dear. And when we are all together in those heavenly joys, the best of all will be that Jesus Himself will be in our midst, and we shall each be able to say, 'Who loved me, and gave himself for me.'”
A Floating Town on the Sea
A FLOATING town on the sea! Is there such a thing? Yes, there is; a floating town, or rather group of "villages" of some twelve thousand inhabitants in all. Where is it? you ask. It is situated over a sunken island, called the Dogger Bank; you will see it marked in any good atlas.
If the floor of the North Sea were raised about a hundred feet, the Dogger Bank would form a third member of the British Isles, lying some eighty miles east of the coast of Yorkshire. It would be nearly half the size of Scotland. As it is at present, the greater part of it is only fifteen fathoms under the level of the sea.
This is the site of our floating town; and its waters are plowed over, year in and year out, by hundreds of British vessels, called trawlers. During the summer the fish come in their millions to the shallower parts; and in the winter they retire to the deeper water, or "valleys," as the fishermen call them. Some half a million tons of fish are caught here every year.
Our picture shows a Dutch vessel on the Dogger Bank; it is not much like the British boats, but it gives an idea of the rough weather that is frequently met with.
The fleet as a whole never comes home; but each sailing vessel in turn, after being at sea for eight weeks, comes home for eight days to refit; and so, just for one week in nine, the fisherman sees, his home and family. The steam trawler's absence is shorter. But you will be wondering what they do with the fish they catch, for if they brought it home with them some of it would be rather stale, being eight weeks old!
Every day there arrives in the middle of the "village" a steamer called a "carrier." This is the signal for each smack to send its catch of fish, packed in boxes, in their open boat to the steamer. Now it is one thing to read about this, and quite another thing to do it, in a tossing sea, on a stormy day. This is where many an accident has happened, and many a life has been lost.
But the fish must be put on board the carrier somehow; and then off she goes with the boxes of fish packed in ice, either to Grimsby, Hull or London; and from thence it finds its way to our tables. And we enjoy the fish, but probably never give a thought to those who procure it for us. Little do we know the toil and hardship they go through. Many a harrowing tale could be told of what it costs to gather in the harvest of the sea.
For many years nothing was done for these twelve thousand men and boys, and the life they led was a terrible one; Satan seemed to have it all his own way. But a good many years ago, God stirred up the hearts of some Christians, and now, attached to each of the principal fleets, there is a ship which acts as a dispensary, cottage hospital, library and mission room for the floating "village.”
They are much appreciated, and have been a great blessing to both the bodies and souls of many of the fishermen, who tell us that their lives have been quite altered by the coming of these ships. Many have found out, not only the kindness of their fellow-men, but also "the kindness and love of God our Savior," and have learned to put their trust in Him.
How much are you doing for those around you, dear boys and girls? You may not be able, perhaps, to help the fishermen in the North Sea, but there are many close at hand who are equally in need. Let me ask you a question: Are you trying to help anybody? If you have tasted the love of God for yourself, tell it to others.
Look out for some who need your help; begin with kind words, and follow on with kind actions, till you have won their confidence; and then tell them of the Savior they need and the Savior you have found. Tell God about them, often, in prayer; and daily ask His guidance. Remember that "he that winneth souls is wise" and "they that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars forever and ever.”
The Wind
IT is a strange thing, this thing that we call "the wind.” We often talk about it; we say how rough it is, or how cold and piercing; at other times how soft and warm it is-and yet none of us have ever seen it! We have seen what it does, often and often, how it bends the trees, lifts the dust from the roads and blows it along in clouds; slates come fumbling off the roofs, and chimneys crash down; and yet of the wind itself there is nothing to be seen! We have felt it, as it blows our coats and dresses about, and sends our hats bowling along the roads. Sometimes it is hard work to fight our way against this strange, invisible power.
What is it, and where does it come from?
Men build large sailing-ships and launch them on the sea, trusting entirely to this unseen power to drive them to the other end of the world. All over the country we see tall towers built, to which are fixed huge sails (or "sweeps," as some call them), to which machinery is attached for grinding corn (windmills, in other words), all relying on the wind to do the work.
Most of us know what the wind is. It is air in motion; but where does it come from? Where does it start, and who gives it its motion? These questions present more difficulty, but the scriptures answer them for us. Three times over we are told that God “bringeth forth the wind out of his treasuries." (Psa. 135; Jer. 10 and 51-find the verses.) As well as being of great use to man, as we have seen above, it is also of untold value in God's wise plan for cleansing and purifying the air of our towns and cities; it is beneficial to the whole country, and keeps the sea sweet and fresh.
The windmill in the picture is having a rest. It is a still, quiet afternoon, the sails have stopped moving, and the great stone grinders inside are idle. Without the wind it has no power to do anything. Wind brings life and movement into it; without it, it is dead.
The Lord Jesus Himself speaks of the wind in a remarkable way to Nicodemus. (John 3)
“The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.”
What brings about the change in a man (or a boy or girl) the people of this world cannot understand. But that there is a change all can see, just as we see the effect of the wind, but not the wind itself. ("Even a child is known by his doings.") The Spirit of God has been at work in the heart removing the darkness, and letting in the light, and the soul has been "born again.”
Then the day comes when we cease trusting to ourselves and our doings, and trust entirely for salvation in Jesus and His finished work; and thus come into that wonderful family, the children of God. (John 1:12.)
The world cannot understand a Christian; they do not know the motives and feelings that underlie his actions; they think it strange that he does not join in all their worldly amusements and sinful pleasures, and they speak evil of him. (1 Peter 4:4.) We, who were once like them, but have been "converted" (through God's mercy), know quite well what makes the difference. The love of God has come into our hearts, and the power behind our lives is the Spirit, which He has given us. "After that ye believed, ye were sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise.”
But just as the windmill is entirely dependent on the wind for its usefulness, so must our lives be under the control of the Spirit if we are going to bring joy to the heart of God, and be useful to Him in this present world.
The Story of a Wreck
ALL night long a gale had been blowing. Most of the inhabitants of the little village on the rocky coast of Scotland had been up all night, watching a vessel on the rocks; but, having no lifeboat, to their great sorrow they were unable to help, so rough was the sea.
With the morning light the wind had dropped, and several boats put off to see if by any chance some one might be found clinging to the wreck; but they soon discovered that all on board had perished; no sign of any living thing could be seen, and the ship itself was fast breaking up.
In one of the boats were two men, and after examining the wreck, they rowed round the rocky cliffs, lest perchance some one might have reached them in the storm. As they were about to give up the search, one of the men noticed something white on the cliff just at high-water mark. Approaching the spot carefully, he jumped on a rock near by, and after a very difficult climb he reached it.
Greatly to his surprise he saw it was a little wooden raft with a carefully packed bundle tied on; and in the bundle, which was soaked with sea water, was a baby, alive and asleep! He shouted to his mate in the boat, telling him what he had found, and then climbed down with the 'bundle with great difficulty. His friend brought the boat as near as he dare to the rock—the sea was still very rough—and the man on the rock threw him the bundle, which he safely caught. But the act of throwing caused the fisherman to slip, and he fell off the rock into deep water; and though his friend waited a long time, he never rose to the surface. The saving of the child had cost him his life.
With a sad heart the young man in the boat rowed back to the shore, and was soon surrounded by a crowd, as he showed the baby and told the story of the life saved and the life lost. The baby was taken home and soon recovered, and, after a few days seemed no worse for its strange experience. A careful examination of the clothes was made, and an envelope containing a number of banknotes was found, but no trace of a name, except that, in the corner of each garment, worked in silk, were the initials, A. L. S.
As the little girl grew up she was never tired of hearing the story of the way in which she had been rescued from the deep, and wanted to hear again and again about the man who had laid down his life in order that she might be saved.
Now I think those initials, "A. L. S." are very interesting and suggestive. They stand for three things. The first is:
A Lost Sheep,
and surely you and I, and all of us, come under that heading. Isa. 53:6 describes us exactly, "All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way." By nature we are all lost sheep, and lost sinners, and could do no more to save ourselves than could the baby on the rock. Now what does a lost sheep and also a lost sinner need? That brings us to the second "A. L. S.," and the answer is:
A Loving Savior.
That was what the lost child wanted, and had the fisherman not thought it worth while to make that dangerous climb, she would never have been saved. Is it not wonderful that the Lord Jesus thought it worth while to come down from heaven, and take those seven downward steps that we read of in Philippians 2:5-8 in order that you and I might be saved? Have you ever accepted Him as your Savior? Have you ever thanked Him for laying down His life for you? Why not do so now?
If you have done so, and you belong to Him, the third "A. L. S." is for you. The only answer that you can truly give to His great love is that your life should henceforth be
A Living Sacrifice,
which, as Rom. 12:1 points out, is your reasonable (or intelligent) service. We are going to live for Him in heaven, and glad indeed shall we be to do so; why should we not begin down here?
Birthdays
WINTER-TIME has come; a real winter, with snow everywhere and the ponds covered with ice. Charlie and his sister Molly are home for the Christmas holidays, and as before they return to school Charlie will be ten, Mother is asking him what he would like for his birthday treat. He is finding it very difficult to make up his mind; there are many different things he would like, and he cannot have them all. Have you ever been in a similar fix? Try this: think of something that would make others happy, and you will have the happiest birthday of your life.
We all look forward to our birthday, do we not? That is, what we commonly call our birthday, as it comes round each year; but really we have only one birthday, the day on which we were born. But, wait a minute; some of us have had Two Real Birthdays.
How can that be? you ask. Two boys were standing by the fire talking. "Willie," said the elder one, "it is just a year and a half since I began to live." "And I have not begun to live yet," said Willie in a sad voice. Do you know what these two boys meant? One meant that it was just eighteen months since he first trusted in Jesus and started a new life—the life that Jesus referred to when he said to Nicodemus, "Ye must be born again"; and Willie meant that he was still unsaved. The writer of this article well remembers his Second Birthday.
It happened in the Christmas holidays, about a week before returning to boarding school. He had for some time been troubled about his sins, and also about the Lord's coming, and at times was in great terror lest he should be left behind when Jesus came. On the night in question—not a snowy day like our picture, but very wet—he was spoken to very faithfully about his soul by a lady staying in the house. At first he was offended and went away. While in this mood, in the quiet of his thoughts he asked himself, "Why do they seem so anxious for me to be saved?" Then he could not help admitting to himself that he would like to be; and before long the wonderful simplicity of God's plan of salvation came to his mind-he had heard it often before—how that we were all sinners and could do nothing to save ourselves; that Jesus had taken our place, and had borne the judgment for us; that there was nothing left for us to do but to believe it and to thank Him! At that moment with all his heart he believed, and went on his knees and simply thanked the Lord Jesus. He soon found his way to the one who had spoken to him and told her what had happened; and they rejoiced together. "With the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation." (Rom. 10:10)
A good many years ago a copy of the magazine, Gospel Stories, found its way to New Zealand, and was given to a girl on her Twelfth Birthday. She read a piece entitled, "Are you one of God's children?" and soon after found her way to her father, trembling and weeping, and cried, "I want to find Jesus and I can't." Through God's word and the Spirit's aid she soon found the Savior. After evening reading and prayer Dorothy (who was the youngest) and her two sisters and brother went off to bed, but not to sleep. Dorothy was full of joy, saying, "I have two birthdays now"; and the others were deeply exercised. Before long Lily was saved, and they went into Netta's room to tell her. By ten p.m. all four were rejoicing in Jesus. Each had different exercises and experience, but each found the same Savior. Four saved in a few short hours! Praise God!
Now, dear boys and girls, let me ask each of you two questions: "Have you had a second birthday?" "Are you one of God's children?”
Fire!
AT a corner where three roads met, in a Surrey village, there stood an old barn. On one side of it was the farm-yard with the duck pond and haystacks, and there were always a selection of ducks and geese to greet you with their noisy cackle as you passed round the corner. Behind it was the farm-house; and close by, on a rise of the ground, the old, low-towered church stood out prominently. Opposite the barn, across the road, were a pair of pretty cottages nestling under some pine trees.
Dinner was just over, when on looking out of the window I noticed away in the distance unusual clouds of smoke, and remarked that there must be a fire somewhere. Going out into the road, I was met by two boys. "The barn's on fire," they called out, as they ran on; and sure enough it was. By the time I got there the flames were beginning to find their way through one corner; and as soon as the old thatched roof caught, it was all up with the barn; before long it was blazing from end to end. The great flames, twenty feet or more high, fanned by the wind, licked the tall pine trees on the other side of the road, and sparks fell in showers all around. The heat was intense, keeping us at a distance; for by this time half the village had arrived. What a sight it was!
Two little girls, who were brought to see it, ran away home terrified. A bed-ridden, old lady in one of the cottages opposite was carried to a place of safety, but a merciful change of wind saved the cottages.
In spite of the efforts of the local fire brigade, who pumped the pond dry, the barn was utterly destroyed, and in the morning all that remained was a smoldering heap of ruins. All this from a carelessly dropped match! How true it is, as the scripture says, "Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth!" (James 3:5.)
Constantly throughout the Bible we find "fire" spoken of as a type, or picture, of judgment. All the sacrifices on the altar were consumed by fire. The judgment thus was borne by the victim, and the one who had sinned was forgiven and set free.
You have heard of the prairies of North America—vast plains extending for hundreds of miles, covered with tall, coarse grass as high as a man's shoulder. When traveling across these in summer or autumn, there is great danger should they catch fire. The flames, blown by the wind, travel at a tremendous pace, so fast that it is impossible to get away from them, even on horseback. There is only One Way of Escape: the very thing that threatens to destroy you—"fire"—is the only thing that can save you. As soon as the smoke clouds give warning that the prairie is on fire, and the herds of stampeding animals come rushing by, a small patch of grass is cut and set on fire. The wind blows it on, and rapidly burns up the grass in front of the travelers. They follow it and Stand where the Fire has been. When the big fire reaches the spot there is nothing more for it to burn, so it dies down, and passes round on either side, and the travelers are saved!
Is not this a wonderful picture of the way we are saved? The fire of God's judgment fell on Jesus, and He bore the storm in all its fury; He took our place, and exhausted the judgment.
“The tempest's awful voice was heard-
O Christ, it broke on Thee;
Thy open bosom was my ward;
It bore the storm for me.
Thy form was scarred, Thy visage marred,
Now cloudless peace for me.”
Are you standing where the fire has been? Give up your own "doings" for salvation-they will not stand the fire-and trust wholly to the Lord Jesus Christ and His finished work, and you will be safe-safe forever.
Gip and Rover
IF boys and girls enjoy a romp on the sands, so do our four-footed friends! Mary and her little sister Nellie, who live some way from the sea, have come over to spend a long day on the shore; the rest of the family are coming soon, bringing the sandwiches for lunch and the tea-basket. Of course they have brought "Gip" with them, as you see. What a hurry he is in to be let loose! If only he could talk we could almost hear him say, "Hurry up, Nellie!”
Very soon they are all scampering on the sands, and Gip is enjoying the fun as much as any of them. What intelligent creatures dogs are! By their faithfulness and obedience they often teach us lessons, and even put us to shame.
Now I am going to tell you a true story about a man who learned the greatest lesson of his life through his dog. An earnest Christian lady, who was much used in bringing souls to the Savior, was waiting one day on a station platform in Norfolk. A friend who was seeing her off, drew her attention to a man who was standing a little way from them, accompanied by a retriever dog, and remarked, "That man is very hard to reach with the truth," meaning that he would not listen to the gospel, nor hear a word about God. The lady' left her friend, went up to him, and stroking the dog, said cordially, "What a beautiful dog you have here!" "Yes," said the man, rather gruffly; "but take care he doesn't bite you. He is not fond of strangers." "Oh, he won't bite me. Dogs know who are fond of them; no doubt you are very fond of him?" "That I am!" "Do you feed your dog?" "Yes, ma'am." "House him?" "Yes, of course!" "Does your dog obey you?" "Yes, indeed.”
“And would you not be disappointed if he did not love and obey you?" "That I should," he replied; then looking proudly at his dog, "hut Rover does love his master," and he patted the dog's head as it looked up trustfully in his face. "Would you be grieved if he followed a stranger?" she asked. "Yes," he replied, rather impatient at so many questions. "Ah," said she, in a sad, tender, reproachful tone, “You ungrateful Sinner, what a lesson does that dog teach you! God has fed you, housed you, cared for you, loved you, these many years; but you do not love or obey Him; you do not follow Him! He so loved you that He gave His only begotten Son to die on the cross for your sins, and yet you never loved Him in return! You follow a stranger. Satan is your chosen master. The dog knows its owner-you do not know yours!
She looked sadly, yet kindly, at him as she earnestly uttered these words. His eyes filled with tears; he fixed them on his dog, and in a choking voice said, after a few moments, "Ah, Rover! thee hast taught thy master a lesson this day. I have been an ungrateful sinner, but by God's help I'll be so no longer.”
The train was just arriving, so quoting a few of the precious promises of God's word, she bade him good-bye with a shake of the hand.
That evening the gamekeeper was found for the first time in the prayer-meeting, crying, "God be merciful to me a sinner"; and soon he was rejoicing in a sense of pardon through the precious blood of Christ.
“The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's
crib: but Israel doth not know, my people doth not
consider." (Isa. 1:3.)
“Yea, the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times; and the turtle and the crane and the swallow observe the time of their coming; but my people know not the judgment of the Lord." (Jer. 8:7.)
Still Waters
AT the end of a summer's day how refreshing it is to come across a stretch of water. Perhaps we have been out for a long walk and are feeling hot and tired, and we gladly throw ourselves down on the grassy banks and rest awhile, and watch the reflections on the smooth surface. Every now and then there is a little splash as a fish rises with a sudden dart to catch an unwary fly. Some one throws in a stone; and we watch the ripples as they expand in ever-widening circles.
The two girls in the picture want to get across to the other side; the one with the hay-rake is joining her companion in the punt—a flat-bottomed boat, not rowed with oars, but pushed across with a long pole which reaches to the bottom of the water; you can see it lying in the boat. It looks quite simple to push the boat along with it, but unless you have learned the right way, it is very easy to tumble into the water in doing so.
“Still waters." Does that remind you of any text? I am sure many will remember the verse in Psa. 23, "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.”
In the land of Palestine, after feeding in the green pastures (if they can find any) during the day, the shepherds in the evening lead their flocks down to the water, and before very long the sheep belonging to three or four shepherds will all be mixed up together in hopeless confusion, as we should say.
Some years ago a servant of the Lord (whom we will call Mr. S—) who had lived all his life in Palestine, came to London, and I heard him give a most interesting account of what I have just been telling you. When he first saw it, he wondered how ever the sheep would be separated again into the different flocks, and he spoke to one of the shepherds about it. "Come and see," was the answer.
It was evening, and the time had come for the shepherds to take their flocks home for the night. The shepherd to whom he was speaking walked down to the water and gave a peculiar call; and slowly walking away, holding out one arm, he continued making this particular sound. Almost at once there was a stirring among the sheep, and one after another left the water, climbed up the bank, and followed the shepherd, until quite a big flock was following him away from the water. After a little while he stopped and counted them; all his own were there-not one missing! The other shepherds did the same with their flocks, and all went off in different directions.
Mr. S— was greatly interested, and after a while said, "I believe I could do that." The shepherd laughed and assured him that he could not. Mr. S— persisted, and wanted to be allowed to try. So the next evening, while the flocks were at the water, the shepherd dressed him up in his own long cloak, gave him his crook, and taught him the peculiar call, which Mr. S— succeeded in copying quite well.
Then he walked down to the water, doing exactly as he had seen the shepherd do the evening before, and giving the peculiar call. Much to his delight several of the sheep began to come out of the water and follow him. He walked on slowly, still giving the call; but on looking round again he saw the sheep had stopped. So he called again; at this the few sheep hesitated no longer, but turned round and ran back to the water! In spite of all his efforts not a single sheep would follow him, and he had to give it up, much to the amusement of the shepherds. Now I think you will understand John 10 better than you ever have done before!
“When he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice. And a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him: for they know not the voice of strangers." (John 10:4, 5.)
And that beautiful chapter goes on to tell us that the good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep. Have you learned to know the Shepherd's voice yet? If not, listen now, for He is still calling "Come unto me... and I will give you rest." He has laid down His life in order that you might be His; and He is waiting to receive you just as you are. But do not linger; one day that voice will cease. The door will be shut, and the flock all gathered in; then it will be too late.
At the Seaside
WHO does not enjoy a day at the sea? Better still, a fortnight, or a month! There is something so fresh and invigorating in the air, and the wide expanse of the ocean is so different from anything we see inland, that the very sight of it cheers us up! How delightful it is to get down close to the waves and watch them gracefully breaking on the shore, and to walk along looking for shells, sea-weed, etc., and breathe the lovely air We shall not have to go far before we come to some fishermen, perhaps like James and John when Jesus called them, mending their nets; or we may be fortunate enough to meet one just going out shrimping, fully equipped, like the one in the picture.
What a wonderful message, or call, Jesus gave to Peter and Andrew when they were casting their net into the sea. (Mark 1:16, 17.) Do you remember what He said? They were spending their lives catching fishes, and selling them in the markets for food. The Lord Jesus told them He had something far more important for them to do.
“Come ye after me, and I will make you to become fishers of men." What did He mean by "fishers of men"? Let me try and explain.
The Lord Jesus had come from heaven to set up a new kingdom. This world had become the kingdom of Satan, and every one in it had come under his dreadful rule, and so the world was full of sorrow and death, and still is. Satan was a usurper, and claimed the whole world as his. (See Luke 4:5, 6.)
But the Lord Jesus came "preaching the gospel of the kingdom of God." He wanted subjects for HIS kingdom, men, women, boys and girls; and Peter and Andrew, and the other disciples, were to be the ones who first started to gather people into that kingdom after the death and resurrection of Christ. Do you remember what a great catch of "fishes" Peter had when he preached that wonderful sermon on the day of Pentecost? (Acts 2) About three thousand souls were converted in one day; what a net full! That is what Jesus meant by being a "fisher of men.”
Have you been caught yet? I have, thank God. It is a most wonderful thing to belong to God's kingdom. We have to enter it "as a little child," by simply taking Jesus as our Savior and Lord, and trusting Him for our soul's salvation, and for everything else. Then He enrolls us in His kingdom, and from henceforth we belong to Him. It is now our duty and our pleasure to obey Him; and it is easy, because we love Him. The law of His kingdom is LOVE; we love Him because He first loved us.
It is a kingdom that will never end, and there is no death there. If we should die down here, it only means that we are transferred to His "heavenly kingdom" to which we belong already; and very soon Jesus is coming to fetch all the rest of us who are alive; then we shall all be together with Him, and that forever.
Will you not join up now, to-day, just while you are reading this? "How can I?” you say. Lift up your heart to Him and say, "Lord Jesus, Thou hast died for me; take me just as I am, and make me Thine forever!" And remember, He has promised that those who come to Him He will never cast out.
“Suffer little children to come unto me, and
forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of
heaven."(Luke 18:16.)
“Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him
in the midst of them, and said, Verily I say unto
you, except ye be converted, and become as little
children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of
heaven." (Matt. 18:2, 3.)
A Story of the Snow
LEAVING his little hut on the mountain side early one morning, a shepherd set out to seek his sheep.
Snow had been falling fast all night, the wind blowing it in whirling eddies among the rocks; already it was deep enough in places to cover the sheep entirely. It was the first snowstorm of the year on those southern German mountains, in the days when the name of Luther was first being heard in the cities and towns.
Anxiously peering among the fast falling flakes, the shepherd had not gone far when to his surprise he espied the form of a man lying insensible in the snow, with a little child wrapped closely to his breast. Briskly rubbing his hands and limbs, he succeeded in getting the man to revive, and by degrees got him to the hut, and laid him on his bed. The stranger was dressed as a peasant, but from his manners and speech it was apparent that the dress was only a disguise. The shepherd and his wife did all they could for the sufferer; but nothing could persuade the child to leave the bed on which her dying father lay.
The storm still raged on the mountain, and the narrow path to the village was hazardous enough in fine weather; but seeing the serious condition of the poor man, the shepherd offered to brave the storm and fetch a priest. But to their astonishment he had no wish to see one. Then he told them strange words—strange, and new to them—that he needed no priest, for his faith was in Christ alone. He spoke of the death on the cross, how He had suffered there, the Just for the unjust; and how that God, being fully satisfied with what He had done, was able freely to forgive all who trusted in Jesus. With wondering eyes they listened; never had they heard such words before.
There he lay, a stranger and alone, dying, and leaving behind him a beautiful child; yet on his young and noble face there was no trace of distress or fear, but a look of peaceful calm. He told how the babe's young mother had died for the name of Jesus, and how he was an exile from home and country for the same cause. Then, writing a few lines on a scrap of parchment, he asked the shepherd to take it, when he was gone, with the child, to the lady at the nearest castle.
Clasping the child in his arms and raising his eyes, he prayed, "Father of the fatherless, to Thee I commit my child. Orphaned for Thy sake, Thou wilt care for her. Father, lead her into Thy light." Before the snowstorm had ceased, his spirit had left the weary body, and he was with the Savior he had learned to know and love, and for whose sake he had lost everything down here.
Has my dear young reader learned to know and trust the same Savior? For you to confess Jesus as your Lord would not mean exile and banishment, but, on the contrary, it would give great joy to your parents. If you believe in your heart that Jesus died for you, do not be ashamed to confess His name; confession will bring true joy and happiness to your soul.
The stranger's last prayer was answered; for in spite of the persecutions and opposition to the gospel in those dark days, the child grew up to be a true follower of her father's Savior, and to lead others into the light also.
'Tis just Thy name of Jesus wins a child,
And bears him on all through the desert wild;
The aged lisp that name with dying breath,
And prove its sweetness in the hour of death.
We are not poor, O Lord, for we have Thee!
And now we're waiting just Thy face to see!
In this cold world how cheering is Thy love,
“I Jesus" means no change in Thee above.
Land's End
IT is fortunate for England that the cliffs of the south-western corner of this our island consist of very hard rocks. The shores of Cornwall have to meet all the breakers that roll in, year after year, from the vast Atlantic, driven thither by the prevailing westerly winds. Were these cliffs formed of earth and soft clays like Norfolk and Suffolk, they would have long since worn away, and there would not be much left of Cornwall!
In the course of ages even these hard rocks have been worn into all sorts of fantastic shapes, and often take the form of men or animals. The one shown in our picture jutting out into the sea, from certain points of view looks very much like A Knight in Armor with a helmet on; so that it has long been known as the Armed Knight. It is not far from Land's End. It is a wonderful sight, after a storm, to see the huge waves, one after another, dashing themselves against the rocks and retiring in a mass of seething foam. Lying right out in the sea is another large rock, resembling a wolf, and the lighthouse built on it is called the Wolf Light.
All along this coast these rocks abound, and at the entrance of the harbors as well. Hence the need of great care in bringing ships into port, more especially as some of the rocks are just covered with water and out of sight; to run on to one of these would mean certain shipwreck. What a picture this is of our life, and little do we know how many hidden dangers lie in our way! If we trust to ourselves we shall surely perish.
So the captain of a ship, when he nears land, signals by means of flags, “Want a Pilot.”
This is seen on the pilot's cutter, which has been cruising about on the look-out for vessels needing help, and soon the pilot is on board, a man who knows every inch of that part of the coast. The captain does not trust himself, so he puts his trust in another. Wise man!
I heard, however, of a captain some time ago, homeward bound for Plymouth, who was anxious to arrive there as early as possible; and, having been into Plymouth Sound many a time before, he thought he would save delay and expense by doing without a pilot.
But, unfortunately for him, when they got near the land a mist came down over the sea and shut out all sign of the landmarks on which he was relying. It was too late, now to signal, "Want a pilot," for he had passed the cutter some time before, and had refused their offer of help. There was nothing for it but to go on. Still, he thought he knew the way; but, alas! he was not a pilot, and in the fog his vessel Struck a Rock and soon commenced to sink. Ah! boys and girls, it does not do to think we know. How many a shipwreck has that led to, both of ships and also of souls!
The result was that several lives were lost, and the captain was afterward tried and severely punished for attempting to do without a pilot.
One day, my dear reader, you will want a pilot. Your voyage of life will draw near to its end-perhaps very soon, and perhaps very suddenly. Do you know of a pilot who can take you safely to "heaven's blissful shore"? You certainly have not been that way before, nor have you yet crossed the dark river of death.
But I can tell you of One who has. Jesus has crossed that dark river for you, and is now in heaven. And more-He is willing to safely pilot into that haven of eternal rest all who will put their trust in Him. Will you not hand over the helm to Him just now, and put yourself under His control?
The Soldier's Story
“NOW it is your turn for a story, Joe!" said one of the men sitting round the fire on a cold wintry day. It was many years ago, so I cannot give you his own words, but here is the substance of what he said.
When he was a young man, an apprentice in a big city, war broke out; and, thinking it would lead to a life of adventure, he joined the army. As his regiment was leaving for the front, some Christian people gave each soldier a Bible, asking them to keep it always near, them, and read it often. He put it in his breast pocket, and there it stayed, for he never troubled to read it, and in fact forgot all about it.
After a while his company was ordered to storm a fort, and for a short time they were exposed to the thickest of the enemy's fire. While many fell under the hail of bullets, he came through unhurt, and after a hard fight the fort was taken. Later in the day, while resting, he found his coat was torn, and, to his astonishment, discovered that a bullet had buried itself in his Bible! But for the Bible he would certainly have been killed, for it was right over his heart. As you may imagine he was much affected, and thanked God he was still alive. This made him think deeply, for he knew quite well he was not fit to meet God.
On examining the Bible carefully, he found the bullet had made its way so far into the book as to rest directly on the first unbroken leaf where these words are found, "Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment." (Eccl. 11:9.) The word went like an arrow to his heart, for he felt God was speaking to him; and from that time on his life was changed. He earnestly sought the Lord, and before long became a true believer in the Lord Jesus, who had gone into death that he might live.
Did you notice the words in italics? Look back, and read them again. They are solemn words. Perhaps you, too, are rejoicing in your youth and forgetting God. But the only way to be truly happy is first to turn to God, and to put your trust in Jesus; then you will be able to rejoice, and your joy nothing can take from you, no, not even death itself.
He lived to be an old man, and was never tired of showing his Bible, and telling his hearers how it had been the means of the salvation both of his body and his soul.
A Warning
DURING the Indian mutiny, in 1857, two young soldiers, James and Matthew, on a march were taken ill, and detained in hospital. A lady visited them, and pleaded with each to turn to the Savior; and warned them of the consequences of refusing Him. James refused to listen, and each day treated her with scorn.
James was soon well and left the hospital. The lady writes: "I saw him just before he left, when he said, 'You see I was right; I told you I was young and hearty; that I had nothing to do with these things-death and eternity—there's time enough.' I was much grieved, and tried even then to win him to Jesus. ‘You know,' I said, 'that hymn, James—
No present health can health ensure,
For yet an hour to come;
No medicine, though it oft can cure,
Can always baulk the tomb! '
“He turned away. When next I heard of James, he was dead! And yet but a few short hours had intervened; he had gone to the bazaar, and 'indulged' with some comrades; walking back to the barracks God's judgment fell on him; he fell down senseless, and was carried back to the bed he had left but an hour or two before. He lived there but to open his eyes, and, calling Matthew, said, 'I find her words are true too late—I am lost! '”
Holiday Times
HOW we all look forward to the holidays, especially if we are fortunate enough to be going to the seaside! For a long time beforehand it is the subject of earnest conversation; what we shall do when we get there, and what we shall take with us, etc. "Shall we take our cricket set?" "Oh, yes, perhaps we shall be able to play on the sands," comes the answer. And of course the dolls must go!
Then mother has to think of the clothes—not only for the hot days, but for the few days of cool, rainy weather that may come, when something warm will be needed. And the sandwiches and buns for the journey—they must not be forgotten. The fun of the journey is in the fact that we are all going together; for a journey all alone is not half so interesting.
Speaking about taking a journey reminds me of a story a friend down in Dorsetshire told me not long ago. He was on his way home from his work when some one stopped him in the street and said, "Mr. W., you see that house?" "Yes, what about it?" "Well, there's a boy of sixteen in there dying—he has only a few days to live.”
That evening Mr. W. went in to inquire, and found that the information he had received was only too true; and permission being readily granted; he soon found himself sitting by the boy's bed.
“Frank, I hear you are going on a long journey, and I've come to see if you are ready for it. Have you any one to go with you? Father can't go; mother can't go; how will you get on all alone? Where are you going? “Frank had no answer to give to these questions, and looked very sad. Then followed a little talk about the Lord Jesus as the only One who could go with him, and as the One who had been into death for his sins, and was thus able to put them away forever from God's sight. Mr. W. then repeated to him the chorus:
“The best Friend to have is Jesus!
The best Friend to have is Jesus!
He will keep you lest you fall,
He will hear you when you call:
Oh, the best Friend to have is Jesus.”
Frank's eyes brightened as he listened, and he drank it in. He had heard of Jesus before, but he had not felt his need of Him. Now he did; and he turned to Jesus with all his heart—just in time.
When Mr. W. was next able to call at the house a few days later, Frank was not there. He had gone on his journey, but not alone. The journey was over, and he was safe home-with the Savior and Friend he had learned to trust and love.
During those last few days he was full of joy. He had opened the door of his heart to Jesus, and Jesus had come in and filled Frank's heart with happiness and peace. Constantly he was repeating the chorus, and singing it when he felt able, to its own pretty little tune.
When in good health he had been in the habit of attending a Sunday school at a little chapel near by, and he sent a special request to his teacher that the chorus might be sung at his grave. The teacher at once had it printed, and each child in the school was given a copy, and many attended the funeral, the boys of his class standing round the open grave; and all joined in singing:
“The best Friend to have is Jesus!
The best Friend to have is Jesus!
He will keep you lest you fall,
He will hear you when you call
Oh, the best Friend to have is Jesus.”
Dear boys and girls, before another few months pass some of you may be called to go on that long last journey. Have you made Jesus your Friend now?
Portrait Painting
THE artist in our illustration wants two figures to complete his painting, so he is arranging with the boy and girl to come at a certain time each day that he may paint them in his picture. Very few of us, I expect, have had our portraits painted in oil colors. We have been to art galleries, no doubt, and seen paintings of distinguished men and women, but neither you nor I are likely to be so honored.
There is, however, a new artist now-a-days who does a great deal of portrait making, and very quickly he does them too. I think I may safely say you have all had your portraits made by him. His name is Light. "What do you mean?" you ask. Have you ever had your photograph taken? All the photographer did was to touch a little spring which opened a shutter to let in the light—it was the light shining on you that painted your picture on the plate inside the camera! The word "photograph" means something written, or drawn, by light (the Greek word for light is photos, and grapho means to write).
Light, makes no mistakes. If you had a black smudge on your face, he would copy it exactly; if your hair was untidy, it would be untidy in the picture, but with a painting it is not always so. A story is told of Oliver Cromwell, who, after some persuasion, agreed to have his portrait painted. When it was nearly finished it was shown to him. He studied it for a few moments and then returning it to the artist said, "Paint me just as I am," and refused to allow the painting to be exhibited until the artist had promised to paint in a large mole that disfigured his face. Nothing but a truthful picture of himself would satisfy him.
But sunlight only takes a picture of what shows outside of you; it cannot look into your heart. You may have a very pretty face, and be rather proud of having your photo taken; but I wonder if you would like a picture taken of your thoughts and feelings, showing the anger that lies there, the temper, the untruth, the hatred, the envy. If a photographer came along who could take a picture like that, how you would keep out of his way! Let me tell you there is one, and his name is Light too; not sunlight this time, but "the word of God.”
Have you not felt a text sometimes search you through and through? For instance, "Thou God seest me," which means that He not only sees your body, but your innermost heart as well. We do not like that, for we know the scripture is true which says the heart is deceitful and desperately wicked. (Jer. 17:9.) Those beams of light make us feel very uncomfortable.
Now for the good news. That same Light that shows us our black hearts, shows us also what is in God's heart, and we find to our joy that it is full of love! Pity is there too, and mercy, and forgiveness, but no anger. God's love is proved to us in the death of Jesus, for God sent Him, and He suffered in our stead, "the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God.”
Do not hide from the light, but let it in; and when it has shown you what you are, it will tell you all that God is, and fill your heart with thanksgiving.
Spring-Time
FROM a casual glance at our picture you would perhaps think it looks more like winter than spring. It is true there are no leaves on the trees yet; but then trees are very wise and careful, and do not push out their buds, except some of the very hardy ones, if there is much likelihood of more frost and snow to come. But springtime it is, as a careful look again, and a little thought, will tell you. It is not likely, if it were really winter, that our little friend would be sitting out on a stile knitting. No, it is one of those days in early spring when the air is mild and soft, and gives one the feeling that
Winter is over and soon the time of flowers and sunshine will be with us again. Already the celandine is blooming in the woods, and on the railway banks and roadside the coltsfoot has opened its dandelion-like flowers to the sun, although no leaves will appear till the flowers are over. Primroses are flowering freely in the gardens, and now and then we detect the sweet scent of a wallflower.
Which do you like best, spring or autumn? This question reminds me of a conversation which took place during a railway journey some years ago. It was late in October.
I had taken my seat at a London terminus, and soon after an elderly man got in and sat opposite me. We exchanged a few remarks once or twice, when by-and-by as we were passing through one of the prettiest parts of Surrey, I drew his attention to the beauty of the autumn tints. There were hills on each side of us, and the beech and oak woods had put on their most gorgeous coloring, which the sinking sun lit up to perfection. It was a beautiful scene, and we both enjoyed it together. Then I remarked, "But I like spring best!" "Why?" said he. "Because it speaks to me of resurrection," I replied. To which he said, "You've got something behind that!" "Yes, I have," I said; and went on to speak of what a joy it was in the spring-time, when everything in nature had seemed to be dead for months, it suddenly broke into life and beauty; and how this always seemed to me A Wonderful Picture of what God was going to do when the Lord Jesus returns; the dead in Christ are going to be raised, and the living believers in Him are going to be changed, and we all shall be given glorious bodies, like Christ's; what a grand day that will be! "That is what spring-time reminds me of!”
My companion's face lit up as he listened, and he exclaimed, "Then you are a Christian, too!" For the rest of the time we had happy conversation together; and when I had to get out we shook hands heartily, being quite sure that, though we had never met before, and probably will never meet again on this earth, we shall be together forever in the presence of our Savior.
Two ladies at the other end of the carriage seemed very surprised that we-strangers to one another before-should so quickly become friends; but we had found out that we were both children of God by faith in Christ Jesus, and therefore belonged to the same family; our love to God our Father made us love one another. (1 John 5:1)
Now, dear boys and girls, what about that wonderful resurrection day? How will it fare with you when that time comes? Only those are going to share in it who are believers in the Lord Jesus. "If we believe," it says. (See Thess. 4:14.) Are you letting the days and months slip by, unbelieving still? Jesus waits to receive you. "Come unto me," He says. What will you answer Him? It is for you to believe, and to come.
Lions
“KING of beasts" the lion is rightly named. Not that he is the largest of all animals by any means; but his courage, his great strength and valor have earned for him this name. When a lion roars in the forest every animal trembles, and either hides itself or flees away. Solomon says:
“A lion which is strongest among beasts, and turneth not away for any." (Prov. 30:30.)
He is "king" among the animals.
To see a lion in captivity, like the one in our picture, is quite another thing. Shut in with iron bars, well fed and cared for, he loses much of his ferocity. We can watch him quietly and admire his splendid mane, his massive head and forelegs, his claws hidden away in his softly padded feet, like a cat's. Only now and then when he gets hungry, and we see him pacing up and down in front of the bars, do we realize a little of what he might be if let loose.
Yet even a lion has been known to respond to kindness, and a story is told of Roman times that will illustrate this. Androcles, a slave who had run away from his master, lost his way and when evening came on, took refuge in a cave. To his horror he saw a lion approaching, and realized he was in the lion's den.
As the lion was limping badly and growling with pain, he boldly went up to it. Speaking gently, he lifted up its foot, extracted a large thorn, and then bound it up. The lion plainly showed its gratitude, and shared its food with him.
A few weeks later Androcles was captured, and thrown into the arena to be devoured by wild beasts, which was the punishment for runaway slaves. A lion which had been caged for some days without food was let loose and sprang into the arena. Imagine the surprise of the crowds of spectators when instead of leaping on the trembling figure, it lay down at his feet, and fawned on him. It was the very same lion!
When the story was told, Androcles was given his freedom, and the lion taken back to his forest home.
Lions were common in the land of Canaan, and are often mentioned in the Bible. Do you remember how Samson killed a young lion? and how the disobedient prophet was slain by a lion? David, too, says, "There came a lion... and took a lamb out of the flock." They are also used as pictures, or types, of men, both good and bad. "The righteous are bold as a lion." (Prov. 28 it; and then of the wicked man it says, "He lieth in wait secretly as a lion in his den." (Psa. 10:9.)
But the verse you will remember best, I expect, is in Peter's first epistle. (Chapter 5) He is writing to the "flock of God," of which Jesus is "the chief Shepherd." Do you belong to God's flock, I wonder? Are you one of His lambs? I hope so. Then listen to what Peter says:
“Be sober, be vigilant; because your
adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about,
seeking whom he may devour.”
Satan is a dangerous and treacherous enemy, and we need to keep near the good Shepherd if we are to be kept from his clutches. A great African hunter tells us that after he had hunted many wild and dangerous animals he soon found out what they would do when wounded or closely chased; but not so a lion-you never know what he is going to do. That is like our enemy the devil; he will attack us when we are least thinking of it, and in a way we do not expect. Then let us be always on our guard, and by daily prayer get strength and wisdom to meet his attacks. "RESIST the devil, and he will flee from you.”
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