“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,—