THE huge bell which the porter had been ringing to announce the approach of an important through-train in the west of England had scarcely ceased its vibrations, ere the powerful engine dashed in at the farther end with its long line of carriages. A moment more, and "Stand back! stand back!" from the porters caused the crowd to bend inwards, and then to rush backwards and forwards. Every one appeared on the tip-toe of expectation. As the train came to a stand-still, many a bright countenance might be seen at the windows, as a well-known face was recognized on the platform; many a hand of welcome was waved as friend met friend after a long absence; the hearty grasp speaking expressively their mutual joy and pleasure; while here and there a sad face, or an unmoved countenance spoke plainly that the scene was to them but one of excitement, or devoid of interest—that there was none in that crowd who awoke a chord of sympathy in their hearts—that they were indeed lonely travelers, gazing on the joy or sorrow of others—but which had no personal interest to themselves. How painful at times this seems, and what a sense of loneliness creeps over the mind, as we find ourselves strangers in a multitude—not a smile of welcome—not a word of kindly greeting, and so pass from station to station, again and again noting the time, and thus measuring the distance between us and the end of the journey—thought traveling faster than the express which dashes along so wildly—to a little group where all our affections are centered. An elderly gentleman might be seen opening and looking into one of the carriages for a vacant seat, when he was accosted by several voices, "No room, Sir: only room for a little child." The aged man looked up with a smile into the many faces that were gazing at him, and gently replied, "My dear ladies, many years ago I learned what it was to become a little child to enter the kingdom of God, and have been endeavoring to live as a little child ever since, and will enter the carriage as one, even now.”
There was something more than ordinary in the tone and manner of the aged pilgrim, and his words found an entrance to the hearts of the objectors; and making way, several at once exclaimed, "Oh! if you take the place of a little child, we will find room for you:" hands were extended, and he was soon seated among them. Once more the impatient whistle of the engine responded to the equally impatient signal of the guard, and again that living freight of precious souls was being hurried along towards the Metropolis.
The dear old christian has since then gone home—entered into his rest, swelling the numbers of the blood-redeemed ones, who have departed to be with Christ: not one of whom have entered heaven without becoming a little child—who have received eternal life as the gift of God, in all the unquestioning, unreasoning confidence of a little one, who takes at once whatever the loving hand of a parent may offer it.
I have often marked the difference between two passengers in the same carriage. One full of fear and agitation at the least unusual sound, or the sudden scream of the shrill whistle, as it warned some distant signalman of its approach; while the other sat unmoved, in the quiet confidence of faith in the skill and wisdom of those who had the management of the train. This may be likened to two christians, who are both traveling homeward: the one always fearing, always doubting if he shall ever reach heaven at last, and depriving himself of present enjoyment, which a full assurance gives to the heart; while the other, being rid of that fear which giveth torment, is free to exult in the grace that has saved him everlastingly; and not only so, but in the God of all grace Himself, in whose love he rests in the face of circumstances that tend oftentimes to depress the soul. Why is this? Because one has learned to look away from everything unto Jesus; while the other is being tossed about through listening to a deceitful heart, and the suggestions of the enemy. Oh! that there were more child-like faith toward God. What pure delight would christians possess, and peace that passeth understanding. But God will have reality! Living faith links us with the living God. No wonder we are not honored with that which is above all price—blessed and abiding peace with God—when we do not honor Him with our confidence: do not with wholeheartedness rest and trust in Christ, whose precious blood cleanseth from all sin.
A man may pass for a christian among men—may be very religious, and yet not have a purged conscience; men may be deceived, but God cannot be. A man may pass himself off as my son among strangers who do not know me, and so deceive them; but it would not do for him to enter my house on that pretense; he would not dare confront me; detection and disgrace would follow at once.
Again, I saw a man in the same train with me on one occasion who had entered without a ticket: he had no right to be there, it was despising the Company's conditions; whose rule is, that no one shall travel without a ticket. What fear that man was in whenever we stopped; he had a bad conscience, and so he quailed before the eye of any official that happened to look in. When we arrived at our journey's end, I noticed the man's countenance, it was filled with fear—he was ill at ease; and as we passed the ticket gatherer, each one giving up his ticket, the man not being able to produce one, was told to stand aside, where he had to wait till the crowd was gone, and then to be conducted to the manager, and to be dealt with "according to law.”
Another rule is, that the ticket shall be produced whenever it shall be demanded by any official on any part of the line. Well, if we have acted in obedience to the Company's rules we do not object to its demands, whenever and wheresoever they may be made. And is not this a Christian’s case, when he knows the matter of sin has been settled, atonement has been made—yea, that his sins are forgiven—before he takes a step in the road to heaven? can he not, as Peter says, give a reason of the hope that is in him with reverence and godly fear? Assuredly he can, he is not afraid of the keen eye of the one who ridicules Christianity, nor need he fear the day of trial, whatever it may be, it will but reveal the true character of the metal. As another said, "Faith loves difficulties, because there is ground for triumph." Difficulties and obstacles prove a man's skill; so do the trials by the way prove the reality of a man's faith. This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith, and power is linked with faith. What a beautiful figure that engine is of a christian, a vessel filled with power, in itself nothing, only as it can be acted on by power within, and then what mighty things can it achieve. So is he who believes in the Son of God to the saving of the soul: his body is the temple of the Holy Ghost, and he is exhorted to be filled with the Spirit, or to let Him have the supreme control of the vessel; and then, not only will he be able to go on in triumph, but he will draw others after him in the same path to glory.
The way to God is indeed a narrow path, so narrow that the Door will admit no one but a little child, and to such the arms of divine love are stretched out to bring him closer to a heart that never disappoints; and yet the Door is so wide that it will admit all who do thus come, as Christ (who is the Door) has said, "Whosoever cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast.”
The ticket-gatherer did not ask my name, nor did he want to know whether I were nobly connected or otherwise, his eye was on the ticket, was that genuine? His sharp eye would soon have discovered a forgery, and so I was free to pass. So I say with the believer in Christ: he does not fear the day of judgment, because he is delivered from the wrath to come, and will be in the glory with Christ long before the judgment sets in. Mind, there is no departure from the terms laid down. Except a man become as a little child he cannot enter the kingdom of God. What cares a little child for all the riches of the world, or for its grandeur? a parent's embrace is more precious than either and more enjoyed than all; and so with the man that becomes as a little child—a new-born child, born of the incorruptible word of God—born of the water and of the Spirit; the fact that he has tasted that the Lord is gracious, is better than thousands of gold and silver, and sweeter than honey or the honey-comb.
How is it with my reader, saved or not saved? Would you enter the banquet-house, and let your eye rest on the banner that floats overhead—the banner of love? It must be as a little child, there is only room for such. God's house must be filled. Shall you occupy a place there? or, will it be a place in the dungeon of everlasting woe? It must be one or the other. Jesus still receives little children; he receives not the strong and working-man, that is, the man who wants to help in the matter of salvation; but he takes up little children in His arms and blesses them; and they shall be blessed, even with Himself, when the wealth of the world shall have wasted, and its glory passed as the morning dew.