Chapter 13

About this time, while Jack's lady was still praying for him, and asking God to show her how to teach him the sweet story of the love of the Lord Jesus Christ his Saviour, a fever came to the place, and the boy saw the strange and sad sight of many funerals passing along the road, as one and another of those whom he had known when they were strong and well, fell sick and died. One day he spoke about them, asking by signs whether they would ever open their eyes again. Without answering his eager question, the lady took a piece of paper and began to draw, and Jack stood by looking at her. It was a strange picture, and she went on explaining it as she drew. First Jack saw a crowd of people--men and women, boys and girls--and his teacher told him to look at them well, for he, Jack, was in that crowd--everybody was there. Then she drew a great pit, and out of it came flames; and she told him that all in that crowd were "bad, bad," and that God was very angry with these bad people, and said they must all go into that dreadful pit.

Poor Jack looked in her face with a frightened stare; he knew that he was in that crowd, that he was one of those bad people. "Must I go there?" his anxious look seemed to ask. Still she did not speak, but went on drawing, and as she drew one man, standing alone, she told Jack that He was the Son of God, come down from heaven--come to die instead of that crowd of bad people, so that they might be saved from that dreadful pit. Then it was her turn to look anxiously into the boy's face. Had her poor Jack understood the picture?

Yes, he had understood; and his next question showed that he was thinking earnestly of what she had told him.

Pointing to the crowd of people, he said they were "_many_, very many"; but the Man who come to die instead of them was "_One_, only One"; and then again he asked, "What? what?" in his eager way.

How should this question be answered? How should Jack be shown that while all in that crowd of people had sinned--all "come short of the glory of God"--the Holy One who came to do God's will and to give Himself a ransom for them, had glorified Him on the earth, and finished the work which His Father had given Him to do?

His teacher did not now draw a picture; but she made one in another way. There were some dead flowers in the room; taking a pair of scissors, she cut them up into little bits, till they lay in a brown heap on the table. Jack watched her do this, and then he saw her take from her finger her gold ring, and lay it down beside the brown heap. Pointing to the dead flowers, she said, "Many"; pointing to the ring, she said, "One"; and then asked, "Which will you have?"

With a laugh of delight, Jack made her see that he understood this picture also. The brown heap of worthless, withered flowers was like that crowd of people--"many," but all bad; the ring, all of gold--only "one" thing, but so precious--was like Him who died to save them; and over and over again he spelt, "One! One!"

Then presently, as the thought came to him that he, Jack, was in that crowd; that he was one of the "many" for whom that holy One had given Himself, his heart was full; he burst into tears, and looking upwards he spelt again, "Good One! good One!" and ran for the box of letters that he might learn His name.

And so this boy learnt for the first time that Name which is above every name, the Name of Jesus.

It would take too long to tell you how Jack learnt each day something more about the Lord Jesus Christ. You see he had to be taught the story of His wondrous birth; of His life in this world, so full of deeds of love and power, and words of grace and compassion; of His obedience unto death, even the death of the cross; and how He was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, and ascended up to heaven. All this, which you have heard so often, was not the "old, old story" to him, but quite new; the "good news of God concerning His Son"; and he did indeed receive the truth in the love of it.

His teacher still found that the best way of teaching him was to give him a picture of something which he could see; and her account of the way in which he learnt the great truth of resurrection, by her showing him how hyacinth-roots, which seemed dead and worthless, would put forth leaves in the spring-time, and "blossom in purple and red," is very interesting. After he had learned this lesson, he could never stand beside a grave without asking reverently whether the one whose name was upon the headstone "loved Jesus Christ."

About this time there came a great change in Jack's life, for he left his home and went to England. The friend who had been so kind to him was going back to her home, and could not bear to leave him behind, so she asked his parents to allow him to go with her. They did not refuse, for they were very grateful to her for all that she had done for their poor boy; and his mother said, "Take him; he is more your child than ours." So Jack went first to Dublin, where nothing he saw struck him with such wonder as the ships in the river; and then he went on board ship and sailed over the sea, and up the river Avon to Clifton. In this beautiful place he lived for a year. He became a good and faithful servant to his mistress, and especially loved to wait upon and play with "Baby-boy," a little nephew of hers of whom he was very fond.

But you must not think Jack was always good. He had a very angry temper, and would sometimes go into a passion, and cry in a very naughty way; or else sulk so as to make not only himself but his kind and gentle lady miserable; and sometimes he had to be punished for his bad ways. But whenever he had shown this naughty temper, the time came when he was very, very sorry. He would go and have what he called "a long pray," and tell God all about it. I do not know whether it was at such a time that he spoke to his mistress about the "red hand;" but before I tell you of this, which has always seemed to me very beautiful, I must try to remember for you part of an address to Sunday scholars, which my children heard just at the time when I was reading to them the story of John Britt.

This address was given by an uncle of Ernest and Sharley, and they were both there. He spoke about how the eye of God looks us through and through, searching right down into our hearts, and seeing every bad thought there; and then he spoke of God's book, in which all about us is written down, and of God's hand, which writes all down in that book. He said that when he was a child, and thought of God's book, it made him tremble all over to remember what must be written there about _him_; and then, speaking very earnestly to the little scholars, he said, "Think of your name at the top of a page in that book, and then, one after another--none left out or forgotten--every naughty word you have spoken, every naughty thing your hands have ever done, all written on that page!"

When he had spoken for some time in this way, Ernest's uncle George said that if any of the children to whom he was speaking really did think of this dreadful page, and did not try to hide away from God, but went straight to Him about it, and said, "O God, I am such a sinner!" that cry would be written down there too. And we must never forget that because of the work Jesus "finished" when on earth, it is righteous for God to blot out the whole black list of every one who "comes to the Father" by Jesus.

I do not know who had told Jack about God's book, but one day when he was alone with his lady, he began to speak to her very earnestly. He told her that he knew that if he should die, like those people who had died of the fever, he would be put in the grave, but that he would not stay there for ever. He said that after he had lain there a good while, God would call "Jack!" and he would answer, "Yes; me Jack." Then he would stand before God, and in His hands would be a very large book, a "Bible book." He said God would turn the pages until he came to one where "John Britt" was written, and then He would look to see if there were any "bads" written there; but God would find no bads, "no no, nothing, none."

"No bads?" said the lady. "Have you never done anything wrong, Jack?"

"Oh, yes," he said quickly, "much bads"; and then he went on to show her how the Lord Jesus Christ had taken the book and had found that very page where Jack's own name was, and where all his "bads" were written down; and He had put His hand all down that page, so that when God looked at it, none of Jack's "bads" were there; only Jesus Christ's blood. "Then," he said, "God would shut the book, and Jesus Christ would say to God, '_My_ Jack!'" Perhaps you wonder what those bad things were which this boy knew he had done. I will tell you of one thing which he particularly remembered. Once, long ago, when he was quite a little boy, he had stolen a halfpenny from his mother; this was one of the wrong things which he thought of as written down upon that page, and he knew that without the precious blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, God's Son, even that one sin would have been always there. And so he often told people about this, and would smile with happiness, and say, "Jack very much loves Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ loves poor Jack. Good Jesus--die--save poor bad Jack."

There are some things which are told us in the Bible which Jack did not know. He thought that when the last day was come, all who were in their graves would be raised, and all stand before God; he was not afraid when he thought of that great day, because he knew that "perfect love" which casts out fear, but it would have been very sweet to him to have known that the Lord Jesus is coming for His own, and that at His call "the dead in Christ shall rise first," and then all the living people who are "Christ's at His coming" shall be changed, and all together be "caught up to meet the Lord in the air, and so be for ever with the Lord."

Jack is one of those who have "fallen asleep in Jesus"; he died when he was a little more than nineteen, and the shamrocks, which he loved because he was an Irish boy, have long been growing green upon his lowly grave; but when the Lord calls His own to meet Him in the air, the deaf and dumb boy, just because he is _His_ Jack, will be sure to hear that awakening voice; although he never heard any voice on earth; and to answer to the call.

But I must tell you a little more about his short life. When he was fourteen, his mistress left Clifton and moved to a very pretty house in the country, and there Jack was given a little room over the coach-house to be quite his own, so that he might go there to write or draw, when his work was done. And now, to his great delight, he was trusted to take charge of a horse; he took such care of it, and kept it so clean and neat, that before long another horse was given to his charge, and he had also to look after the cow, so that he must have felt that he was quite an important person.

You will be interested about his drawings when I tell you that he worked so hard at them, because he had a wonderful plan in his head. You must not think that he had forgotten his old home; though he was so happy in England, his great longing was to see his dear parents once more. He did not wish to go back to Ireland, but he thought if he could only earn enough by his beautiful drawings to buy a little cottage and a cow, he would send for them to come and live near him, and then his joy would be complete.

He used to pray a great deal about this, kneeling at the window, that "God might look through the stars into his heart," and see how very much he loved the Lord Jesus Christ; and he used to say that he knew God had "looked at" his prayer, just as you might say, "God has _heard_ me praying to Him."

Five years passed in that quiet home, and then the cough, which had troubled him for some time, grew much worse, and he seemed to understand, without being told, that he was soon going to die.

When he came down one morning, looking sadly pale and tired, his mistress asked, "Have you slept, Jack?"

"No," he said, smiling sweetly. "Jack no sleep. Jack think good Jesus Christ see poor Jack. Night dark, heaven all light; soon see heaven. Cough much now, pain bad; soon no cough, no pain."

You can see that, when he spoke on his fingers, Jack's way was to make his sentences short by leaving out all the little words, much as children do when they first begin to talk.

During the few months of life which remained after he became so ill, his sister Mary was with him, and his soldier-brother Pat got leave to come and wish him good-bye. For Jack was really going to Him whom having not seen he loved, and at the last moment of his life his great comfort and joy was in thinking of the love of Christ to him. He would say, over and over, "Jesus Christ _loves_ poor Jack," and then speak of the "red hand" that had blotted out all his sins--those many sins which God would remember no more, because "good Jesus Christ" had given His own life for poor Jack.

The snow was falling fast when they laid the body of this dear boy in the quiet churchyard, far away from his Irish home. His beloved mistress and his sister Mary were there. How wonderful it is to think that the first sound that will fall upon those ears, deaf all his life long to every human tone, will be "the voice of the archangel and the trump of God," calling him, and all those who sleep in Jesus, to rise in their bodies of glory, "to meet the Lord in the air," and to be with Him for ever!

"Then, when the archangel's voice Calls the sleeping saints to rise, Rising myriads shall proclaim Blessings on the Saviour's name.

"'This is our redeeming God!' Ransomed hosts shall shout aloud Praise, eternal praise, be given, To the Lord of earth and heaven."

THE STONE BOOK.

"_The heaven, even the heavens, are the Lord's: but the earth hath He given to the children of men._"--PSALM cxv. 16.

"_Speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee: and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee._"--JOB xii. 8.

"_Be still, and know that I am God._"--PSALM xlvi. 10.

We have been reading a little about the story of the heavens. Now I want to take you from the starry heights to the dens and caves of the earth, and to speak to you a little about--not astronomy, but geology, as the science or study of the earth is called. This is a very interesting study, but one in which we may easily make serious mistakes; for we have not here the firm ground under our feet which the Word of God gives us, and we must always beware of saying, "This thing _is_ so, therefore that other thing _must_ be so"; or, "This thing is not, therefore that other cannot be."

When we first began our talks, we read that "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth"--all that which is meant when we speak of the "Universe." This is just what we need to know; and how gracious of God the Creator to speak to us about His own works, and set at rest all the guesses and reasonings of our minds as to how and when this earth first came into existence!

Then we noticed that there is a pause, how long a pause we know not. The silence of God, as it were, falls upon the scene; we hear nothing more about the heavens, and nothing of the earth between the time of its creation and its state as described in the next verse--a desolate, watery waste, upon which darkness brooded.

It is a great thing to know how to listen when God speaks to us, and to be silent when He is silent. "By faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God"; this is what He has been pleased to tell us, and we cannot go beyond it.

In the chapter called "Ruin and Darkness," we learnt a little about the "crust" of the earth; and I told you that those who have studied it believe that they can read in it, as in a book, marks of the many changes which have passed over it since the Creation.

As they search into its depths and bring out to the light of day remains of plants and animals which lie buried there, they point to these "footprints on the sands of time," and tell us that our earth is very, very old; _how_ old they do not say; they can only guess.

But long before anyone began to lay bare the recesses of the earth and to ponder its age, God had told us that it is older than our little minds can conceive, for He created it "in the beginning."

Men of science also when they speak of the work of God on the SIX DAYS of His Creation, say they could not have been actual days of twenty-four hours, as time is now measured. I have told you that in speaking of what God does we must never say a thing _could_ not be; but rather lay our hand upon our mouth, or speak as Job did when he answered the Lord and said, "I know that Thou canst do everything, and that no thought can be withholden from Thee." But we may also remember that, as God measures time, "One day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day"; "for a thousand years in Thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night,"

I wonder--as we have read now four times, at the close of each of God's wonderful days, "The evening and the morning were the first," "the second," "the third," "the fourth day"--whether you have stopped to think why the evening is always put before the morning; surely this way of reckoning time is very unlike ours.

Is it not so reckoned because as light was made to shine perfectly upon the earth, when God called it out of the darkness, there was no dawning of that first day? It began when God said, "Let light be: and light was"; then, with the gradual disappearing of the light, "there was evening," nothing being told us about the "unfurled flag" of night, or the dawning of the second day.

This at least we know, that whether in the beginning, when the strong foundations of the earth were laid, or during those periods of time when God was working to bring it into order and beauty, "no touch of man's rude hand" interfered. The goodness of God was seen in storing it with mineral treasures for his use; covering it with vegetation which has lived and died and laid up vast abundance of coal; peopling the air and the waters with birds and fishes. But with all this man had nothing to do, for one of the very last acts of Creative Power was that which called him into existence, and set him, as lord of all, in a place so carefully and wonderfully prepared for him.

And as we look back over those Days of Creation of which we have been reading, let us remember that each successive Day led up in perfect order to making his dwelling-place perfectly fitted for him, the creature of God apart from all others, specially formed for Himself. As has been beautifully said, "when the sea was gathered into one place and the dry land appeared, a secure footing was found for man; when the waters above the firmament were separated from the waters below, man, the highest of all created things, could look up"--all was done in reference to him, when as yet he was not.

We shall not read about the work of God on the Fifth Day in this chapter, but I want you to turn to the account of it given in the first chapter of Genesis, and you will see that there for the first time in the Story of Creation the word "life" is used. God speaks to us no longer of only inanimate or lifeless things, such as the sea and the dry land, the earth with its herbs and trees, and the two great lights which were made to give light upon it. He tells us now of creatures which live and move and have a being, each "after its kind"; each exactly fitted to enjoy life in the place prepared for it.

The story of the way in which God in His mighty and gracious working prepared earth and sea and sky to be the home of creatures which were yet to be brought forth and created, is very wonderful. But when we read of "the moving creature that hath life," and of "every living creature that moveth," we come to what is still more wonderful.

You remember in the history of the plagues in Egypt, that when the wise men tried to imitate what God was doing in sending His judgments upon the land, there was a point at which they stopped, and could go no farther, "This is the finger of God," they said.

What was that point? It was when they tried, by their enchantments, to produce one of the meanest, as we should say, of _living_ things.

And so it has always been: man, the highest of God's creatures, apart from all the rest, is still a creature, and he never has been able to usurp the power which belongs to God alone.

It is true that man can destroy animals, and so hunt them down as to render them extinct; he can also, as we have seen, by great care and skill and long patience, produce what are called "varieties" of both plants and animals, increasing the size of leaves and blossoms twenty, thirty, even a hundredfold; but though he may talk of the formation of new flowers, with endless shades of colour, they are not really new, but only varieties of those already existing. You remember, when we were speaking of the "Green Earth," we learnt that never, from the beginning of his life on earth, has man produced a new _kind_, or species, of either plant or animal.

We must never forget this. God, who said to the mighty ocean, "Hitherto shalt thou come, and no farther: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed" (Job xxxviii. II), has also set a bound beyond which man, however great his powers may be, is not permitted to go. Life, in all its forms, from the lowest to the highest, belongs to God.

But perhaps you are asking why I said that we do not in the Story of Creation read anything about _life_ till we come to the work of God on the Fifth Day. Are not the trees and plants alive? Do we not say of a blasted tree or withered flower, It is dead?

It is quite true that plants have a life which shows itself as we have seen in their growth, and even in some "sensitive" plants, by their shrinking from the touch. In the wheat-fields the order of the unfolding of the life of a plant "whose seed is in itself," may be seen, as we watch "first the blade, then the ear, afterwards the full corn in the ear." But this life is very different from that of the lowliest animal which has power to feel and to give expression to its feelings, power to move from place to place, and which shows in its own way of living an intelligence which is not seen in the very highest forms of vegetable life. At the same time it is true that in their lowest forms animal and vegetable life approach each other so nearly that it is often difficult to say where the one ends and the other begins.

But without the plants and their ceaseless work, as the "sleepless universal providers of the earth," as they have been called, all animal life would fail and die; for they are the means by which all the nourishment which is contained in earth, air, and water can be made of use both to themselves and to the animals.

And is it not very beautiful to see how God has made one part of His creation dependent upon another, and all dependent upon Him? Does it not show us His care for His creatures, and especially for that wonderful creature--the last and best of all, who was created for the earth and the earth for him--when we see, as we have seen so constantly, that before the inhabitants of earth, air, and sea came into being, He had caused the earth to bring forth that which should give to every living thing the means of sustaining life?