DEAR children, you know that sometimes―we cannot tell why—something that we have seen long, long ago, and have even forgotten, comes back to our minds, and suddenly we seem to see again the place and the people we had, perhaps, not thought about for years. So it was with me just now, and I felt sure that it was the Lord who reminded me of a day long past, that I might tell you something about it.
It was a bright summer’s day, and the boys at C― School had said a great many times to each other that morning what a good thing it was that it was so fine, for this day was their speech day, the great day of all the year, and fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters might be coming by any of the very frequent trains to spend the day, and stay till quite late at night; for in the evening there were to be fireworks in the garden, and there would be a special train at about eleven o’clock to take back the friends and relations. There were about a hundred boys so you may suppose the friends and relation! were very numerous. I myself was amongst them, for I had two boys to go and see, and I knew several others besides; so I arrived as early in the morning as possible.
The little picture that came back to me just now was this. As I walked up to the old brick house from the station, I saw sitting together outside the hall door, two little boys, very much alike, like two lovebirds on a perch. They were lovely little boys, with shining flaxen hair and great blue eyes, and they looked at me very hard, and, as I came near, they turned to one another very sadly, and said, “No!” But when I was in the house, listening to the speeches, and in the great tent where everyone had lunch, and out in the playground watching the games, I forgot the little boys, and I never remarked that they were not in the tent nor in the playground.
It was quite late in the afternoon when I went into the house again; and there, sitting together outside the door just as before, were the two little boys, but they looked more sad and tired, and they seemed as though they had not moved a finger since the morning.
“Have you been sitting here all day?” I said.
Then one of them gave a great sigh, and said, “Yes.”
“Why did you do that?” I asked them. “Don’t you care for the speeches and the games?”
The little boys looked at me with their eyes full of tears, and said, “Mother said she was coming, and we wanted to have the first sight of her; but now we think it’s no use, and that she won’t come at all, but still we’ll go on waiting till the very last train comes in.”
And they sat down again, and there I left them, with their eyes fixed on the garden gate.
But no mother came. I do not know how it was, she was prevented from coming. It must have made her very sad when she knew that her little boys had missed the games and all the fun they had been expecting. But it must have been a great joy to her at the same time, when she found that her little boys loved her more than all besides, and had spent the whole day watching for her, because they longed to see her.
They are grown-up men now, and, perhaps, their mother is long since gone from them; but no doubt they remember that weary day at C―, and look forward to another meeting on a brighter morning yet to come. Perhaps whilst you read this, you remember a passage from God’s word which came to my mind. They are some of the verses which tell us most of the deep and wonderful love of Him who loves and remembers, when even a mother might forget.
They are meant for all those who have been saved, and forgiven through the precious blood of Christ. “Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning; and ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their lord, when he will return from the wedding; that when he cometh and knocketh, they may open unto him immediately. Blessed are those servants, whom the lord when he cometh shall find watching: verily I say unto you, that he shall gird himself, and make them to sit down to meat, and will come forth and serve them.”
Yes, there are some now who are watching—watching and longing for the coming of Jesus. They do not care for many things which help to amuse the people who do not know the Lord Jesus, and who have no longing to see His face. They get up in the morning and say, “Perhaps this is the last day that we shall be without seeing Him and hearing Him;” and when they go to lie down at night, they say, “He may come in the evening, or at midnight, or at the cock-crowing, or in the morning.” And so they wait—wait, day after day; and He will not disappoint them. “Surely,” He says. “I come quickly.” “He that shall come will come, and will not tarry.” Jesus knows if you are one of these blessed, happy people. You cannot be, unless your sins were laid on Jesus, and then when He comes it will be a far greater joy to Him than even to you, for His love is greater far. Do not think it matters little whether you are waiting for Him now. He looks to see if any are watching and longing for His coming, and though it is not what people call “doing a good work,” it is very precious to Christ.
May you be amongst those whom He will stand to serve. But what if you are not ready? For there are many to whom that glorious and blessed day will be a day of terror and despair. For then those that are ready will enter into the marriage, and the door will be shut, and left outside will be the unbelieving, and the careless, and those who are satisfied with themselves, and those who have no love for Christ nor for His beloved people. Outside will be the selfish, and the proud, and the liars, and the unthankful, and the unholy; outside will be the disobedient, and the covetous, and the boasters, and the despisers of those that are good; outside will be all the men, and women, and children, whose sins have not been washed away in the precious blood of Christ. Left behind, when God’s beloved people are caught up to meet the blessed Lord in the air, and to enter with Him the Father’s house―left behind to darkness, and to sorrow, and to judgment―left behind to learn what is meant by the great day of the Lord’s wrath.
One day, about fifty years ago, there was a man riding along the Wiltshire lanes on a carthorse from his master’s farm. Before him lay, across the horse, a sack of wheat. Slowly he jogged along, and no doubt he was thinking chiefly of all that he had to do at Devizes market, where his corn was to be sold. He had few other things to think about than his daily work, for he and his neighbors were people who had never learned to read or write, and they lived far away over the downs, and heard very little of the great world beyond.
Lately they had heard something of the “swing-rioters,” who had been collecting mobs to break all the machines, which farmers were then beginning to use for winnowing and thrashing, and who had some indistinct ideas that if they attacked the squires and the farmers, and burnt hay-ricks, and carried off poultry, they would in the end get cheap bread and land of their own, with much more besides. Had you asked them what they thought they would gain by the trouble they took, and by the damage they were doing, they would answer you, “We’s to be the gentlemen, and the gentlemen is to be we.”
Now, our friend William, who was jogging along with his sack, had plenty of sense, though he had no book-learning at all, and he had determined from the first to leave the swing-rioters alone, and get all he needed by good honest work. He was sorry for his friends who had joined them, and more particularly so now, for he had heard that the soldiers had been called out to stop the rioters, and many had already been seized and locked up in Bristol gaol, and other undesirable places. That very day, as he rode along, he saw some frightened-looking men and boys, who ran past him, and then jumped over a fence, and hid themselves behind a hedge; and as he went further he met more Ind more of these people, some running in one direction and some in another. Then William said to himself, “They’s the swing-rioters, and the soldiers are after them.”
And, sure enough, when William looked back he saw, a long way off over the downs, the red coats of the soldiers coming nearer and nearer. But William jogged on as before; and he said to himself, “It’s a comfort now that I have no need to go and hide behind the hedges, for I’m about my master’s business, and that they can see, and there’s no fear they’ll lock me up in Bristol gaol.” The soldiers came nearer, and they rode past William, and then they turned across the fields, where some poor men were to be seen running for their lives; and William jogged on towards Devizes, quite happy and contented.
Yes. For a few minutes he was happy and contented, and then, suddenly, he knew not why, some words came into his mind that he had heard once, long ago; he could not remember where or when. These strange words, to which he had never given a thought before, seemed to come to him now, as if God from heaven were speaking to him, and William trembled with fear and terror—a terror far greater than that of the swing—rioters who had passed him running across the country.
These were the words― “Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us; and to the hills, Caverns” (Luke 23:3030Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, Fall on us; and to the hills, Cover us. (Luke 23:30)); “Hide us from the face of Him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb: for the great day of His wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand?” (Rev. 6:16,1716And said to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb: 17For the great day of his wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand? (Revelation 6:16‑17).) William tried to forget these words, but they would not leave him; they sounded in his ears like some awful sentence. “I am not afraid of the soldiers,” he said, “but when that day comes I shall call on the hills to fall on me to hide me. Oh, what shall I do to be saved?”
All day long he heard the terrible words; he could not forget them in the bustle of the market, and the ride home was a fearful time to him. There was no one to whom he could go for help, and if he had a Bible he could not read it, yet he believed that in the Bible he would find out the way to be saved.
Though William was forty years old, he began at once to learn to read. When his work was over, he sat at his cottage door, and called to any children who were passing. There was now a school in the village, and nearly all the children learned to read. William would offer them halfpennies, or some supper, or an apple from his tree, and get them in return to teach him A B C.
“Ah,” he said, “Satan did try hard to hinder me, and I found it terrible work to learn to read, but I asked the Lord to make me learn quickly, and He did; then at last I could spell out a chapter in the Bible, and I went to the camp meetings of the Methodists on the downs, and I hearkened all I could to the blessed gospel, and said, ‘Lord, show me the way to be saved’; and, bless the Lord, He did show me, and now I thank and praise Him. I look forward every day to the blessed, blessed time when He shall come—that will be a glorious day to me. I shall hear Him say, ‘William, come up higher,’ and that makes me care very little for any grand things down here. It’s like comparing a little glow-worm in the hedge to the glorious sun at noon-day, when we think of the finest thing here, and Christ in glory! I get impatient for it sometimes, for the natural heart can’t wait; but He’ll leave me here as long as He has anything for me to do, and His work is a blessed thing, and I can truly say I’m happy here, and shall be happy always.
“Yes, one day, I couldn’t help it, when I was thrashing in the barn, I had to leave oil just for a minute and kneel down and ask the Lord to make the squire at the big house as happy as I am, and, bless the Lord, He has made him happy too, and we shall be with Him forever and ever.”
So now William has been made ready, for his sins were laid on Jesus on the cross long ago, and he looked to Jesus, and believed in Him, and he knows now that at the end of the road, along which he is traveling, there is one place only―heaven itself―and, better far, the welcome of the God and Saviour who loved him and gave Himself for him―to be with Christ! F. B.