Chapter 3

I remember, many years ago, attending the deathbed of a young man in E----. He told me, one day, he had dreamt of being in a shop in ---- Street, which seemed to be hung round with armour and coats of mail. A number of people in the shop were girding these on; while a man was standing with a drawn sword in his hand outside the door, ready to slay them as they passed into the open street. One after another he cut down;--the armour was no protection to them--their bodies were lying dead and wounded on the pavement. In great fear and terror, the young man said, his turn seemed at last to come, when he, too, must try to cover himself with the same armour, and rush out by the fatal door. He knew not what to do. In looking around him, he observed, in the uppermost shelf, something resembling a web of coarse linen, lying apparently neglected. He resolved to take it down, and wrap himself in a portion of it, instead of the unavailing sheaths of iron and steal. Covering his head and body, he darted out, following the footsteps of the others. The sword descended; but it bounded back again. It was unable to pierce the linen covering. He alone was safe in that crowd of dead and dying.

Beautifully did this youthful dreamer apply his own "vision of the night." It was:--How vain are all the boasted sheathings of the armour of self-righteousness; and how safe and glorious is that "white linen" covering of the righteousness of Jesus! To the eye of reason, the panoply of iron and steel seems the best, and strongest, and securest. Many will not "submit themselves to the righteousness of God," and persist in using the others. But they will be a poor protection against the sword of God's avenging justice. Happy are those who have been led to look _above_ for another righteousness, and who have listened to the Divine injunction, "_Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ!_"[66]

Reader, let me ask, is this your case? Don't think, because you are young, and have committed few sins, that you are safer than those who have committed many, and that you have not the same urgent need to flee to Jesus for refuge. In Canaan of old, the manslayer was in danger of his life, whether he had killed one or several. One single life, like one single sin, exposed him to the fury of the avenger.

Nay, more. The Hebrew fugitive _might elude_ his avenger! He might manage, for days, or weeks, or years, to screen himself from his wrath. He might go, as David did to avoid Saul, to some cave of Adullam; he might hide in the gloomy recesses of some forest;--amid the oaks of Bashan, or the rocky gorges of the Jordan, or amid the cedar-heights of Lebanon;--in the words of Ezekiel, "dwelling safely in the wilderness, and sleeping in the woods."[67] But it is different with the sinner and _his_ Avenger:--"_Vengeance is mine; and I_ WILL _repay, saith the Lord_."[68] Who can escape _His_ glance? Who can hide from _His_ all-seeing eye?

"If I should find some cave unknown, Where human foot had never trod, Even there I could not be alone-- On every side there would be GOD.

"He smiles in heaven, He frowns in hell, He fills the air, the earth, the sea; I _must_ within His presence dwell, I cannot from His anger flee."

The _fourth_ thing I want to say to you is:--That _many young and old_ HAVE _fled to Jesus, the Gospel City of Refuge, and have found themselves safe and happy there_.

How delightful it is, year by year, to trace the footsteps of those, whether young or old, rich or poor, who have repaired to that blessed shelter! I shall close this little volume by telling you of _two_ such, now inhabitants of the better _celestial City_. Very different they were in years, in country, in outward position. But they were alike in this,--that they fled in life to the gates of the Gospel Refuge; and to both _the_ NAME _of_ JESUS was specially precious.

The one was C---- T----, a little girl thirteen years old--the age, I daresay, of some whose eyes are falling on these pages. I saw her when she was bright and happy in her adopted home in England--a sweet spot in the county of Kent, on one of those wooded heights or uplands which command an extensive prospect of the Thames, as he winds along, hearing on his lordly bosom the commerce of the world. Little did any then dream, that that little life, so full of promise, was to be early taken--her sun going down before it was "yet day!" So, however, the will of God was; her summons came suddenly, unexpectedly. Her disconsolate parents saw "the desire of their eyes taken away by a stroke." The dear child herself was naturally of a timid, reserved disposition; she felt more than she said. Her kind, unselfish heart delighted in devising plans of usefulness and carrying them out. The entire of her pocket-money was latterly spent in the purchase of little books for the infant-school children--all of whom loved her much--or in publications for loan among the elder Sunday class. She won the affections of old as well as young. "The little lady who used to speak so prettily to us," was the description given, with full eyes, by more than one of the villagers who had known her loving ways, and heard her loving voice. In another neighbourhood still more familiar to her, she used to go to the cottages with her Bible, and offer to read to the inmates who most needed it; always putting her little hands together first, to ask for God's blessing, and then making some simple remarks she thought might be of use. Those whose hearts most sorely mourned her, had the fullest assurance that the grace of God had been early poured into their dear child's heart. But on thinking, too, on the past, they began at times to wonder whether these pleasing traits of character and efforts to do good, were really prompted by love to Jesus, or whether they might be rather the effect of habit and the imitation of others. They anxiously searched among her little books and desk-treasures to see if they could find anything to confirm their fondest thoughts regarding this. I believe it was even made the subject of earnest prayer to God, that some such precious testimony might be found. After all her other books had been examined in vain, imagine what were the feelings of delight and thankfulness, when, as one day she who loved her best was taking the cover off her Bible, the two following letters dropped from it on the ground:--

"B. PARSONAGE, _August._

"MY DEAREST PAPA AND MAMMA,--I am going to write this in case I should go to that _happy_ land where sorrow is not known, suddenly; and that you may have _no_ fears about my soul. I know my state, and that my _precious_ Saviour has called me, and I humbly accept this _glorious_ invitation as a poor WRETCHED sinner. I _strive_ not to expect redemption by my own poor merits. I have no comparative fear of death, but as a passage from a wicked world to a happy, happy home. Though I am by nature very wicked, it is all washed away by my Saviour's blood. The Holy Spirit has taught me what to pray for, and how to pray. I hope all my dear friends will forgive me if I have been angry when they have spoken to me about my faults. I should like, dearest parents, whatever little money and things I have, to be given to the Church Missionary Society and the Bible Society. My dear Saviour has forgiven me all my INNUMERABLE sins, and so, dear parents, you need not fear about my soul. I believe my Saviour will _not_ forsake me if I trust in Him, and I know that all my righteousness is as filthy rags.--I remain, dearest parents," &c., &c., &c.,

"C. M. T."

The other paper that was found, was probably intended for her brothers and sisters. It is as follows:--

"When you are in trouble, go to God and tell Him all about it. The Saviour who called little children to come to Him will listen to you, no matter what the subjects be, if you be but in earnest and need His help. If you have a difficult lesson to learn, a hasty spirit to subdue, an unkind word to bear, a proud spirit to humble--whatever your difficulty, take it to God in the name of Jesus, and He _will_ help you. If even we, who see so little beneath the surface, are not pleased with outward appearances without good qualities within, how much less is the great God who searches the inmost recesses of the heart? 'The Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.' What we require is a new heart cleansed by the Holy Spirit, full of all the graces mentioned in St. Paul's Epistle to the Galatians, (chap. v. 22.) Oh! go then to JESUS and ask of Him in earnest prayer to pardon your sins, and to confer upon you the blessed gift of a new heart."

My young friends, have _you_ fled like C---- T---- to an all-gracious Saviour? Is the "_name_ of Jesus," so sweet to _her_, equally precious to you? Does it "soothe your sorrows," "heal your wounds," and drive your tears and fears all away? Can you say, in the spirit of her beautiful and comforting letter,--

"Till then I shall His love proclaim With every fleeting breath; And may the music of His _NAME_ Refresh my soul in death."

Having told you of one recently "fallen asleep in Jesus," who had early repaired to the shelter of the Gospel Refuge, I shall now tell you of an aged servant of Jesus who has, more recently still, entered on her glorious rest.

She was a former parishioner of mine. Her home was a lowly cottage in one of the loveliest villages of Scotland. Poor in this world, and an almost constant sufferer, she was rich in faith,--one of "Christ's jewels;"--her life was "hid with Christ in God." If I could venture to name two peculiarities in her spiritual being which distinguished her more than others, it would be these: Love for _the_ NAME _of_ JESUS, and a _Life of_ PRAYER. "His _name_," to her, was "like ointment poured forth."[69] Often have I delighted to sit with her in her cottage, with her Bible on her knee, and hear her speak of "the _name_ which is above every name;" walking about these six Refuge-Cities, "telling all the towers, marking the bulwarks, and considering the palaces." She had herself long before, in early life, fled to the Gospel stronghold. I think her favourite city would have been GOLAN, "Joy." Her heart seemed ever to be filled with "peace and _joy_ in believing."

Doubtless much of this calm serenity and joy she derived from her life of _prayer_. It is no small matter for the writer of these pages to know, that there was not a day for upwards of sixteen years in which he was not personally and specially remembered by this lowly saint at a throne of grace.

One forenoon during this past year, she had entered her cottage, carrying a pitcher of water down from the well in her garden. It was the last time she crossed her threshold. When her door was opened, she was _found alone on her knees_; BUT _her spirit had fled_! PRAYER, as it had been her ever fond delight in life, had been her solace and comfort in death. Her last act was drawing water out of the better "_wells of salvation_." She began with _prayer_, but ended in _praise_! She began her prayer on earth, and "finished it with the angels!"

Reader! when you come to die, could _you_ be equally happy, equally safe? Would you be able thus to rejoice and triumph in the _name of Jesus_? Could you declare, with either of these two glorified spirits, before God "took" them, "_We_ HAVE _a strong city; salvation hath God appointed for walls and for bulwarks_?"[70] Has the Holy Spirit taught you, as it taught them, that you are sinners by nature, and in a state of condemnation? Have you heard God's voice behind you, declaring that "He can by no means clear the guilty?"[71] And are you able now joyfully to say, "I heard Thy voice, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and _I hid myself_?"

Are you, like them, really "hid" _within_ the gates? The manslayer of old required to be _within_ the refuge-city. Even if he were but one footstep without, the avenger of blood could cut him down. It did not matter _how_ near he was, if he was not _inside_ the portals!

And so it will avail you nothing to know about Christ, and hear about Christ;--to survey the strength of the city's walls, the glory of its battlements, and the beauty of its palaces. It is "_the righteous who_ RUNNETH _into it_," who alone is "_safe_."

What more, in closing, have I to say, but to repeat the solemn word, "_Haste thee, flee for thy life_!" Every hour you put off, the time is shorter; the avenger is nearer; the chances of escape are fewer. There is no time for delay. I say this to the very youngest. I say more. As young feet can run fastest, so it is with young souls. You will never go to Jesus so easily as now. Let nothing keep you back. It is said that on digging up the ruins of Herculaneum, (the city that was buried under the lava of Mount Vesuvius,) the body of a man was found in an upright posture, in the act of running out of the door of his house to escape destruction. He had a bag of gold in his hand. Others had escaped in safety. But this miser loved his gold more than his life. He had returned to fetch it, thinking he would have time enough to escape the terrible doom; but the burning stream overtook him. He was encased in a living sepulchre.

It was one, too, of the saddest incidents connected with these Cities of Refuge of old, when some poor, breathless, panting fugitive--just when he was in sight of the city--when he had almost reached the gate, sank exhausted. Or perhaps the case of some other who had lain down weary to sleep, but who had been startled by the avenger at his side, and the drawn sword gleaming before his eyes;--years after, the pile of stones marking the spot where his blood had been shed.

But, oh, sadder, sadder far, for any, young or old, to perish within sight of Christ! To suffer the love of sin, or the love of pleasure, or the love of the world, to make them "too late!" To be _almost_, but not _altogether_ saved! To be cut down by the sword of wrath, or overtaken by the fiery stream, with heaven in view!

God grant that this may not be the case with any one of _you_!

I shall conclude with a happier picture:--The citizens in these Refuge-cities of old, were sometimes seen clustered on the top of the walls, watching the approach of the manslayer, and cheering him on when faint and exhausted. So, think of the happy citizens of the New Jerusalem: Patriarchs, prophets, saints, departed friends, who are now safe within its gates, watching you from these glorious heights, beckoning to you not to tarry, but to be "followers of them who, through faith and patience, are inheriting the promises." "Verily I say unto you, There is joy in heaven among the angels of God over every sinner that repenteth."

We have been speaking of the "_name_ of JESUS."

Read the motto over the gateway of all these six cities. Read the motto over the door of the Gospel Refuge:--"_Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other_ NAME given under heaven among men by which the sinner can be saved, but _the_ NAME of JESUS."

_Jesus, my Refuge_! look on me: When weak and weary, worn, opprest: I cast my every care on Thee-- Thou art my _Rest_.

_Jesus my Refuge_! guide my way, Dispel the gloomy shades of night, Oh, shine Thou forth with cheering ray!-- Thou art my _Light_.

_Jesus, my Refuge_! storms may rise, Affliction sweep with tempest-shock, My spirit to Thy shelter flies, Thou art my _Rock_.

_Jesus my Refuge_! legion-foes May seek to drive me from the field, But in Thy strength I shell repose-- Thou art my _Shield_.

_Jesus, my Refuge_! Thou in store Hast happiness without alloy, Pleasures unmingled, evermore-- Thou art my _Joy_.

_Jesus, my Refuge_! on the brink Of Jordan, in my latest strife, Thou wilt not suffer me to sink-- Thou art my _Life_.

_Jesus, my Refuge_! oh, supply My every want, whate'er befall; Through life, in death, eternally, Thou art my _ALL_!

ANON.

THE ROCK OF CASTELLO.

The Rock of Castello.

As I was walking on a bright summer evening, among the Italian Alps, I came to one of the lovely valleys of the Waldenses. These, perhaps I should tell my young readers, are a pious race of Christians, who have, age after age, boldly "contended for the faith once delivered to the saints," and kept the lamp of truth brightly burning, when all around was darkness.

This beautiful spot is surrounded by very lofty mountains, whose tops are almost lost in the clouds, while the little stream that murmurs below has its banks covered with vines and mulberry trees, rich corn fields, and happy villages. When I first entered it by the Alpine pass of La Croix, the whole valley was shrouded in a dense fog, with the exception of one bold and very remarkable Rock, which towered in solitary grandeur above the sea of mist, and seemed from its height like an island suspended in mid-air!

Upon inquiring what this Rock was, I was informed it is a place famous in the history of the Valley. When the poor peasants were persecuted by their foes, their cottages and hamlets plundered, their loved sanctuaries burnt with fire, and "all their pleasant things laid waste," they would retire with their wives and little ones up to this rocky citadel, which the God of nature seemed to have reared as a shelter for His defenceless people.

Within this Rock that same God had wonderfully provided for their safety and comfort. It contains a large cavern, capable of holding many at a time; and in the very centre of this cave is a fountain of water, which yields a never-failing supply. When driven thither by the storms of persecution, the exiles provided themselves with food, from the plentiful wild fruits of the adjoining mountain, so that the Bible promise was made good to them, "Their bread shall be given them, and their water shall be sure!" Swords and cannon and other means of defense they had none, but a single man, stationed at the mouth of the cave, was enough to defy hundreds of armed soldiers. He had only to hurl fragments of loose stones (which were supplied from the sides of the cavern) down upon the foe, and they were instantly beaten back, thus fulfilling God's words to Israel, "Five of you shall chase an hundred, and an hundred of you shall put ten thousand to flight."

Often, often, then, when the wintry tempests and Alpine storms, and drifting snows, were raging fiercely around, adding to the terrors of the enemy, did these peasant warriors find in the Rock of Castello a secure shelter and retreat. With their fountain and blazing fire, their Bibles and their God, they would make the rocky cavern ring with praise. They "feared the Lord," and had no other fear. He had "given his angels charge over them;" and they could boldly make the challenge, "God is for us, who can be against us?"

* * * * *

When I heard about this Rock, which the "God of _Nature_" had upreared as a citadel for his oppressed people, it reminded me of a better ROCK, which "the God of _Grace_" has provided for perishing sinners!

Dear Children!--You are all, by nature, like these poor Christians of the Alps, the inhabitants of a Valley. It is called "_The Valley of Tears!_" Like theirs, too, it is a lovely valley, far too lovely for sinful man; but though lovely, its name tells you it is a _Valley of Weeping_. Sin has made it so. And more than this, it is a _Valley of Danger_, a _Valley of Death_!

It is full of _Enemies_. I can not tell you them all, "their name is Legion, for they are many." There are:

THE WORLD. Ungodly men, bad companions, tempting you to sin, and trying to keep you back from fleeing to Jesus!

YOUR OWN The enemy within, the worst HEARTS. of all, because the most deceitful of all!

SATAN. The great enemy, who goeth about seeking whom he may devour.

DEATH. The last enemy, a sudden enemy, but oh! remember, a _sure_ enemy; other enemies _may_ come, He _must_ come, and the time of his coming is generally "at _midnight_," when you least look for him!

Methinks I hear my young readers exclaiming, If my enemies are so many, if my danger is so great, is there no place I can flee to? "What must I do to be saved" from those enemies in this _Valley of Tears_? Oh! whither shall I flee from the "wrath to come?"

Hear the voice of God:--He is pointing to a Rock rising from the midst of the Valley, and is calling aloud to you, "Flee to this Stronghold, ye prisoners of Hope!"

Do you ask--When shall I flee? He answers, "_Now_ is the day of salvation!"

Do you ask--May I not _wait_ a few years? I am yet a young inhabitant of the Valley. Death, if he be the _surest_ enemy, is the _last_ enemy; have I not yet time enough? God answers--TO-DAY! while it is called to-day! "Verily, there may be but a step between thee and Death!" "Haste thee; flee for thy life."

Do you ask--But must I leave all the pleasures of sin, and so much that I love in this valley of tears? God answers, "What is a man profited, if he should gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?"

Do you ask--But is there no _other_ refuge than this, no other means of safety but, amid storm and tempest, to climb to this Rock? God answers, "Neither is there salvation in any other! For there is none other name given under heaven, by which a sinner can be saved, but the name of Jesus."

Dear children, let this be _your_ prayer: "Lord, lead me unto this ROCK, that is higher than I!"

Oh! with what delight does that Great God look upon children, such as you, when they "flee for refuge to lay hold on this hope set before them;" and when they join their hearts and their voices together, saying, "Oh! come, let us sing unto the Lord; let us make a joyful noise unto the ROCK OF OUR SALVATION!"

But I would like to tell my Young Readers something more about this Great "Refuge from the storm"--this Great "Covert from the tempest." Let us seat ourselves for a little in the Alpine valley, under the brow of the Rock of Castello; it may help us to some thoughts of the better "Rock of Ages!" I dare say many a poor Waldensian, when taking shelter in this earthly refuge, would be often reminded by it of the ROCK that can never be shaken!

_First_, The Rock of Castello _is very High_. So is _Jesus_; so High, that He is called _the Son of the Highest_--"The Ancient of Days!"--"God over all." "The heaven of heavens can not contain Him!"

_Second_, The Rock of Castello _rises from the Valley_: so Jesus rose from poor parents in this valley of tears. He "humbled Himself," to take upon Him our nature; so that "although he be HIGH, He might have respect unto the _lowly_!"

_Third_, The Rock of Castello _was quite close at hand_; though lofty, it was always near for fleeing to: so is Jesus, the "Rock of Ages." We have not to say, "Who shall ascend into Heaven to bring Christ down?" "He is not far from any one of us." Indeed, He is so very near, and so very accessible, that the only wonder is that there should be any found who do not "flee to Him for refuge!"