Old Jack.

Narrator: Chris Genthree
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Jack! Jack! here, sir! hie on! cried Charlie, flinging his stick far into the pond. Tack didn’t want to go; it wasn’t pleasant swimming among the great lily leaves, that would flap against his nose and eyes and get in the way of his feet; so he looked at the stick and then at his young master, and sat down, wagging his tail, as much as to say: “You’re a very nice little boy; but there was no need for you to throw the stick in the water, and I don’t think I will oblige you by going in after it.”
But Charlie was determined. He found another switch, and by scolding and whipping forced poor Jack into the water. He fetched the stick, but dropped it on the bank instead of bringing it to his master, and had to go over the performance again and again until he had learned, that when Charlie told him to go for a stick he must go at once. Charlie was satisfied at last, and ran home at length to tell his mother about the afternoon’s work.
Now, Charlie had a Christian mother, and it often pained her to see her little son disobedient and thoughtless, and still more to find that all her instruction seemed to little affect Charlie, for as yet he had never felt his need of a Saviour, though often spoken to seriously about His soul, his sins, and his future.
He was full of his exploit when he entered the house. “It was pretty hard work, Mother,” he said; “Jack wouldn’t mind me at all until I made him.”
“What right have you to expect him to mind you?” asked his mother quietly.
“Why, he is my dog! Uncle John gave him to me, and I do everything for him; didn’t I make his kennel myself, and don’t I feed him every day? I’m always kind to him, and I call him ‘nice old Jack,’ and pat him, and let him lay his head on my knee. I have a right for him to mind ‘me.”
His mother was just making him a jacket. As her little son finished, she did not look up but said slowly: “I have a, little boy, he is my own, given me by God. I do everything for him, make his clothes, prepare his food, nurse him when sick, many a night have I sat up and watched him when fever was burning upon him, and daily I pray God to bless him. I love him, he sits on my lap and sometimes goes to sleep with his head on my arm; I have the best right in the world to expect this little boy to obey me; and yet he does not unless I make him as I would make a dog.”
“Oh, Mother!” cried Charlie, tears starting to his eyes; “I knew it was wrong to disobey you; but I never thought before how mean it was. Indeed, I do love you, Mother, and I’ll try —I really will try—to obey you as Jack obeys me.”
“Dear Charlie, there is a great difference between you and Jack.
You have a soul.
You know what is right, for you have been taught from the word of God, and you know also that Satan and your own wicked heart will always tempt you to do wrong; that is a trouble Jack can never have, but he has not the comfort you may have, for you can come to the Saviour, and then knowing Him you can go for help and He will teach you to love and obey Him alone. Then, Charlie, you will not find it difficult to obey me.”
How many of my young readers have thought of the difference between your pets and yourselves? Why, when poor old Jack died, and Charlie, full of sorrow for his old favorite, had to bury him, he could never hope to see him again; but Jack was dead and done with. But not so with Charlie, for when he dies, and his body is put in the grave, it will only be to await that resurrection morning when the voice of the Son of God shall be heard, and
He shall come forth,
God grant to the resurrection of life! If not he must come forth to the resurrection of damnation. (John, 5:29.) Could I ask you to tell me what made the difference between Charlie and his dog doubtless you would readily reply, “Charlie possessed a soul.” Yes! my reader, and, like you, he must live forever in contrast to poor Jack who had ceased to exist. Your soul is like the glittering valuable diamond. See the miner; he throws up a clod of earth which to us would seem quite valueless, but his practiced eye discerns the marks of a treasure within. The earth which surrounds it must be removed, and then its preciousness and value will appear. So with you, my reader: death will simply mean the removal of the outward covering, then will you know the value of your soul.
In view of eternity, let me ask you an all-important question:
“Is your soul saved?”
if not, trifle no longer. Young though you are, my reader, death is fast tracking you down. Soon, God knows how soon, you will say “good-bye” to everything here and commence your soul’s history in another scene. Remember! to die unforgiven is to be lost for eternity, and who can tell the everlasting remorse of those Who have trifled away the day of God’s grace, steeled their hearts against redeeming love, and refused the gracious pleadings of the One who desires to infinitely bless them. May this folly not be yours, my reader. Rather let this moment decide you for Christ.
His work—of such infinite value in the eye of God—has once and for ever settled the question of sin, and resting alone upon that precious sacrifice your soul will be saved.
“But I am so young,” says some dear boy or girl; “there is plenty of time before I grow old and have to die.” Ah! dear reader, let not Satan persuade you to rest upon a foundation so uncertain, every heart beat hastens you onward to eternity, and you may never live to grow old; God says: “Now is the accepted time, behold NOW is the day of salvation.” 2 Cor. 6:22(For he saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the day of salvation have I succored thee: behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.) (2 Corinthians 6:2). Be wise, and trust Jesus NOW.
“Haste, haste, haste,
Delay not from wrath to flee;
Oh! wherefore the moments in madness
waste,
While Jesus is calling thee.”
ML 05/15/1904