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