wished to put a question to you which is now very plainly answered by
the scene I have just witnessed. Two hours ago, I was with a party of
friends in the plain below, at some distance from this mountain. At
nightfall, when we saw the light of your furnace beginning to shine, we
said among ourselves, as we looked, with no small degree of interest,
upon this earthly star, as it seemed to us, 'What can the man be doing
who is watching by the side of this fire?' You see, sir, that I am
young, and you know that, at my age, good-humoured frolics are not
uncommon. 'I will soon know,' I said. Well, I mounted my horse
immediately, and rode at full speed to the foot of the mountain. And now
that I am here, I find that I have reason to rejoice in my freak,
Monsieur Gervais, since it has made me the witness of a most interesting
scene. These pens and paper, and these books--this one in
particular--afford sufficient evidence of the manner in which you have
passed the evening. Here, to my surprise, I have found, at this late
hour, in the deep recesses of the woods, on a wild and lofty mountain, a
school for useful learning in general, but more especially, as the
closing of the scene has informed me, for the most important of all
knowledge--that of the Creator who made, of the Son who redeemed, and of
the Holy Spirit who sanctifies us. You pass your evenings in pointing
out to these boys, who might otherwise be running wild along the
mountains and through the forests, like the beasts that perish, the only
way that leads to everlasting life. May I ask if you have any particular
interest in them? Are they your children, or are they employed by you in
your business?"
"No, sir," said the charcoal burner; "I am neither their father nor
their master. Alas! they have but one Father, which is in heaven. They
are orphans, sir, and are employed by the herdsmen. They remain here for
several months in the year, to assist in tending their cattle and their
goats, which are kept during the summer in the mountain pastures. They
are therefore serving an apprenticeship to the line of life for which
they are destined. But there are other things which are needful for
them, as well as learning to look after cows, and sheep, and goats; and
one thing more needful than all the rest, which they might learn to
neglect, were they left to themselves, without some one to lead them in
the right path, and to speak to them of the faith and love of the Lord
Jesus. It is true they are here far removed from the temptations which
they would meet with in towns, and even in villages; but Satan has his
snares in all parts--in the wilderness, where he dared to tempt the Son
of God Himself, as well as in the city, where, they say, his traps are
set so thickly that it is impossible to avoid them, unless the light of
God's Holy Spirit is shining on our path. But even here, had he no other
means of leading them astray, they might fall, by his devices, into the
worst of sins--the forgetfulness of God, and all they owe to Him. The
condition, then, of these poor boys has interested me very greatly. I
have prevailed upon their masters to let them come to me for two hours
every evening, as soon as the cows and goats are milked, and the sheep
are in the folds, when I endeavour, with God's help, to teach them to
read and write, and cast up an account; but, above all, to seek to find
out the Lord in His holy Word, and to pray to Him. For myself, too, it
is a profitable as well as a cheerful occupation in this solitude. I
wish, indeed, that I were able to have them longer with me each day, but
that our labours will not allow of. On Sundays, indeed, they have rather
less to do, and we take advantage of this to devote more time to the
service of God."
"_Rather_ less to do on Sundays!" said Alfred. "Is the Lord's Day, then,
made only partially a day of rest?"
"Sir," replied Gervais, "there are works of _absolute necessity_ which
require our attention, here in the mountains, nearly as much on the
Lord's Day as on the other days of the week. We do not cut wood on the
Sabbath Day, but my fire must not be allowed to go out. It must be kept
constantly burning till the operation is complete. So far, indeed, it
affords a lesson of holy instruction to my young pupils as well as
myself, and shows us the necessity of the flame of Christian love, and
faith, and hope being kept alive in our hearts, even when pursuing our
daily occupations. Then those who have the charge of cattle and sheep
must attend to their wants, or the poor creatures would suffer sadly by
their neglect. It takes up a large portion of the day to milk the cows
and the goats, and I dare say you can understand that, to say nothing of
the loss their owners would incur were this omitted, the poor beasts
themselves would suffer bitterly from bodily pain and disease."
"I ought to have thought of this, as I am myself learning to be a
farmer," observed Alfred. "But do you not draw any spiritual improvement
for your scholars from this?"
"Oh, yes, sir! I show them how Jesus, the Good Shepherd, is constantly
feeding and caring for _His_ flock, watching over them, and keeping the
young lambs from going astray; carrying them in His bosom, and giving
them the bread of life to eat, and the waters of everlasting comfort to
drink."
"And are your kind instructions confined to these three boys?"
"Not altogether, sir. Most of their masters, when their necessary work
is done, come with such of their servants as can be spared, on the
evening of the Lord's Day; and, as we have no pastor up here to teach us
in the way of holiness, we join together in prayer. We sing 'psalms, and
hymns, and spiritual songs,' and we 'search the Scriptures,' and nourish
our souls with the holy Word of God. Most of them, I assure you, sir,
are very seriously disposed, and love to hear me talk to them of the
Lord Jesus, and tell them of all He has done to save sinners, to take
away their sin, to give them repentance, and everlasting life after
death."
"And it is thus you have been passing your time," exclaimed Alfred,
"when some of my thoughtless young friends below fancied you might be
drinking or smoking while you were watching your fire. Happy man! These
solitudes are no solitudes to you. How far more profitably, how far more
pleasantly, are you employed than the greater number of those who live
in the world! I must entreat you to pardon my having intruded upon you,
I am ashamed to say, from a motive of mere curiosity. But see how God
often causes even our follies and weaknesses to turn out to our profit.
I have learned a lesson that I trust, by His grace, I shall never
forget. It has taught me that every godly man has a part assigned to him
for others as well as for himself, to show forth the great salvation
that Christ brought upon earth. You are diligently fulfilling your part.
You have prayed for work, and our great Master has mercifully provided
it for you. You are laying up treasure for yourself in heaven, while
many of those who would be inclined to pity your worldly position are
wasting their lives in idleness and sin, neglecting the work they might
do, and burying in the earth the talent committed to their charge.
Numbers there are in the world who are attempting to secure to
themselves a memorial among posterity, by erecting hospitals and
schools, while you are consecrating this little hovel to God in a way
that might never have been known in this world, but which will not be
forgotten by the Lord 'in the day when He maketh up His jewels.'"
As he said this, Alfred cast his eyes round the hut, and fixed them upon
an open chest which stood in one corner, supported upon one or two short
beams of wood, to preserve the contents from the damp.
"You are not unprovided with books, I see, besides those that lie on the
table."
"We have indeed a little library there, sir," replied Gervais. "It is
very small, but quite equal to our wants. You would find there 'The
Histories of the Old and New Testaments,' 'The Imitation of Jesus
Christ,' 'The History of France,' 'Robinson Crusoe,' and a few others.
Would you like to look at the writing of these boys, sir?"
Alfred examined some copy-books lying on the table, and could not help
expressing his surprise at the progress the lads appeared to have made
in three short months. Then, looking at his watch, he said--
"I fear I have overstayed my time, but before I go I have yet a duty to
perform. While I congratulate you most sincerely on the success with
which God seems to have blessed your endeavours in behalf of these
destitute youths, I must add that the interest which the idea of your
isolated situation excited among the party I left in the plain below was
such that they said I ought not, without some good reason, to intrude
upon you, and desired me to bring this little offering to you, begging
of you to accept it, in token of their good-will."
Vainly, however, did the young man press the offering upon the charcoal
burner. He absolutely refused it.
"Money!" said he; "for what? From whom does it come? Excuse me, sir, but
you must recollect that you are quite a stranger to me. I do not even
know your name."
Alfred looked greatly disappointed, but replied that his name was Alfred
de Blenal.
"What! the son of Madame de Blenal, of ----?"
"The same."
"You are no longer a stranger, sir. Your excellent mother's piety and
benevolence are well known to all the country around. Well, sir, as you
seem distressed by my refusal, I will accept your liberal offer, but not
for myself. I will only take it as trustee for these three boys, to be
applied to their future maintenance, till they are able to support
themselves."
"Excellent man!" replied Alfred, deeply affected. "This sum will hardly
be sufficient for your benevolent purpose, and it will give us pleasure
to make it up to such an amount as may be required. I have promised to
return to the persons who are expecting me by midnight, and I fear they
will be uneasy at my prolonged absence. Take it, then, Monsieur Gervais,
and whenever you require a little more money for the good works you may
find occasion to perform in your neighbourhood, do not fail to put me
under contribution. I shall tell my friends all I have seen and heard,
and be assured that they will envy me my good fortune. Farewell, and
remember that, by applying to me when you want anything, either for
yourself or others, you will only prove that I have inspired you with
sentiments of esteem and friendship."
Saying this, Alfred gave the charcoal burner a cordial embrace, and
departed.
The thoughts of Michel, the guide, as he descended the mountain, were
very different from those with which he had gone up. He was an altered
man from that night.
Midnight had passed. The supper was waiting at Madame de Blenal's. The
guests were beginning to be impatient, some from hunger, some from
curiosity, but more from anxiety. Had he miscalculated the distance? Had
he mistaken the way? Had he met with an accident? The former conjectures
were spoken aloud; the latter was only whispered by some who were not
within Madame de Blenal's hearing. She herself remained silent, but
perfectly calm. We do not say that the mother's heart was free from
anxiety, but there was a remedy within it which served as a preventive
against all idle and unnecessary fears. The eye of God was upon her son,
and she knew that his own trust was fixed upon His saving arm. She knew,
too, that, although full of the spirit and buoyancy of youth, he would
avoid the sin of running into needless danger. If an accident had
detained him, it was permitted as a trial of her faith, and she was
prepared to submit.
The impatience of the party was just beginning to reach its height, when
the sound of a horse's hoofs was heard. Every eye was turned to the
door, which was soon opened, and Alfred stood before them, smiling,
cheerful, and uninjured, though in a condition that at first occasioned
some alarm, but soon excited a burst of laughter.
"Here is ocular proof," cried one, "that he has seen the charcoal
burner."
"And been at close quarters with him," said another. "He is covered with
soot."
"Why, Mr. Alfred," said a young lady, "one would think you had embraced
him!"
"I have, mademoiselle, and I am not ashamed of owning it. Had you seen
what I have, you would have done the same, without considering your
dress."
"Why, what have you seen?" was asked by more than one.
"I have found a preacher of righteousness, 'a teacher of babes,' in the
forest--one who is an example to us all--and I have learned that,
whatever our station in life may be, we may do good service to our
Lord."
Alfred then gave a full detail of his adventure.
"So then," said the old lady who had decided the question about the
money, "while we were indulging in foolish conjectures, and idly jesting
about this worthy man, he was engaged in the pious task of teaching
young boys to read God's holy Word, and the eye of that God was upon us
all. My dear young friends, this is a lesson which I trust you will
never forget. I see by your looks that it has produced its effect, and
given birth to serious thoughts in your hearts. God has caused your
inconsiderate frolic to turn out well, and I suspect that this will be a
happy day for the pupils of Gervais. The orphans will not want
protectors. Now let us go to supper. Our friend Alfred must be hungry
after his ride, and he has well earned his meal."
These words, together with the circumstances that gave rise to them,
made a deep and salutary impression upon the hearers. The supper passed
cheerfully, and the conversation turned upon what could best be done for
the charcoal burner and the poor orphans. Many plans were proposed, and
at last one was suggested which met with general approbation.
The young men, in consequence, all visited the mountain forest and the
hut, which, under their exertions and superintendence, soon disappeared,
and a comfortable chalet rose in its place, in which Gervais continued
for many summers to pursue his useful labours, and more than one or two
successive generations of boys owed their teaching to him, and their
establishment in the world to the care of the patrons whom Alfred's
visit had, by God's mercy, raised up for them.
FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT.
In a conversation with the late Richard de Courcy, John Berridge
observed that he had, for many years, been preaching up self, but not
Christ Jesus the Lord:--
I was a length of time in Arminian fetters. John and Charles Wesley got
me into their cradle, and the devil kept rocking; but the Holy Spirit,
in a most remarkable manner, delivered me from the sleep of sin by
slaying the legality of my heart. I used to lament the unprofitableness
of my preaching, and though I was a dealer in fire and brimstone, I
could make no impression on my hearers.
One day, my man Thomas was sawing a sturdy piece of oak, and, as I was
standing by him, he threw down his saw, and turning to me, said,
"Master, I must give this job up; it is so knotty." I took up the saw,
and said, "Tom, let me try"; and to work I went, and, being of muscular
strength, I soon overcame the difficulty.
It occurred to me, when leaving the field, that my preaching resembled
Tom's sawing, and these words were impressed on my mind--"Who art thou,
O great mountain? before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain." I
returned to my chamber, and poured out my heart to the Lord. A
conviction arose in my mind that the work that God alone can perform I
looked for the creature to produce. On reflection, I found the drift of
my preaching for twenty years had been to tell the sinner to put the key
into the lock of the door, so as to open it. I never thought of my
Beloved putting His hand by the hole of the door, nor of applying to Him
who has the keys of David, who "openeth, and no man shutteth; and
shutteth, and no man openeth."
On the Sunday following, I took my text from Isaiah--"Ye also made a
ditch between two walls, for the water of the old pool; but ye have not
looked unto the Maker thereof, neither had respect unto Him."
From that time God the Holy Ghost has given me better tools for my
workmanship. In addressing those whose hearts are unrenewed and
unchanged, I make no propositions or calls. I cry aloud, and lift up my
voice, and show my people their transgressions and their sins. I then
turn from the unconverted, and implore my Master to take the work in
hand, to convince of sin, and to lead them to Christ. With uplifted eyes
and outstretched arms I cry, "Lay hold of these rebels, O Lord, as the
angel did of lingering Lot, and overcome them by Thy omnipotent power,
so as to lay down their arms to come in, that Thy house may be filled."
John Berridge can do nothing but say, "Awake, O arm of the Lord!" This
is my province; a step further I cannot, I dare not, go.
For the last twelve years the Lord has, in a most wonderful manner,
displayed the riches of His grace in giving me innumerable seals to my
ministry, both in town and country--trophies of mercy, as studs in the
Mediatorial crown of my dear Redeemer.
OLD EVERTON.
[Oh, that there were more such preachers in the present day!]
When bold, presumptuous men stand up,
And fain would make believe
That they are teachers sent of God,
And thus poor souls deceive,
They should, by every God-taught soul,
Be faithfully withstood,
If aught they bring to us as truth
But Jesus and His blood.
Such men as these the Word declares
Shall come, and shall deceive;
But sinners, truly born of God,
Will not such men receive.
If possible, we know they would
Deceive Thine own elect;
But, bless Thy precious name, dear Lord,
Thou wilt Thine own protect.
How solemn is the thought to me--
Such men may think they're right,
Yet their profession will, if left,
End in eternal night!
"Depart, ye cursed!" will be said
By lips that cannot lie;
"Since you have hated Me and Mine,
Your doom is now to die.
"You see, though now it is too late,
The oil-less lamp won't do;
The door against you now is shut;
There is no passing through."
My soul, reflect! How stands the case
With me, a helpless sinner?
I cannot hope to win the race;
But Jesus is my Winner.
I never should have sought to Thee,
Dear Lord, Thou knowest well,
If Thou hadst not first called me,
And plucked my feet from hell.
B. W.
BIBLE SUBJECTS FOR EACH SUNDAY IN FEBRUARY.
Feb. 5. Commit to memory Ruth ii. 7.
Feb. 12. Commit to memory Ruth ii. 8.
Feb. 19. Commit to memory Ruth ii. 9.
Feb. 26. Commit to memory Ruth ii. 10.
PUT heart in your work, whatever it is. If it be the lowliest, simplest
little task, it will be ennobled by your doing it well and cheerfully,
and taking real pleasure in it.
"THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS."
(ZECHARIAH iv. 10.)
The second temple was much smaller than, and very inferior to, the
first, and from it were wanting the ark, the Shechinah glory, the sacred
fire, and the Urim and Thummim. Hence we read that, when it was erected
and dedicated, the older men that had seen the former temple wept (Ezra
iii. 12). Compared with that, the second temple saw but a "day of small
things" (Hag. ii. 3).
And thus do we sometimes speak of the days of childhood and youth, and
rightly so. Young people are small in stature and little in ability.
Their minds are not much cultivated at present, their faculties
undeveloped. Their views of things are narrow and circumscribed. They
have seen and know but little of the world, or, indeed, of anything at
all. But children are not to be despised on that account. We who are
older must not think depreciatingly of them, nor should the young
depreciate themselves--their abilities, their time, their opportunities.
Do not waste your precious moments, for yours is a golden age, which
will quickly pass away, and can never return.
Do not imagine that you are too young to exert any influence over others
for good or harm. You may, and do, influence not only your companions,
but many older people also. As children and youths are old enough to
sin, they are old enough also to be impressed by the Spirit of God--yea,
even savingly converted, if God so will it.
Not long ago, a very little boy, dying, was heard to say, "Oh, Lord
Jesus, please make room for a little boy!" and I doubt not, his prayer
was as real and as acceptable to God as was that of the dying
malefactor, "Lord, remember me," &c. Another dear little fellow said,
"If I ever get to heaven, I'll go straight up to Jesus, throw my arms
around His neck, and say, 'I'm come! I'm come!'"
Very little things are not without their importance or value. The earth
is nourished all summer by tiny dew-drops. The greatest mountains, even
huge Chimilari, towering five and a half miles into the clouds, and all
the other peaks in the Himalaya and Andes ranges, are formed of tiny
molecules of earthy matter.
Take a lesson from the coral formations. These are the work of a very
little creature called a _polype_, or sea-anemone. Recent research has
led to the discovery of much that is highly interesting respecting these
little creatures. One polype, fixing its minute body to the rocky bottom
of the sea, discharges a chalky secretion, which gradually grows up a
branched trunk. The end of each branch is terminated by another polype;
and thus it divides and multiplies itself, until a huge mass of red
coral is formed. The more common white coral is similarly produced.
Beware of what are called "little sins." Do not think them mere trifles.
Bad in themselves, they likewise extend and grow into habits. These,
once acquired, will hold you down with the force of a mighty chain.
Of late years vine-stocks have been imported from America into France
and Italy. Upon these a tiny insect, called _phylloxera_, has been
found--so small that thirty-three of them placed lengthwise would not
measure more than an inch; and yet so destructive have these tiny things
proved, and so rapidly have they been known to spread, that they have
been the destruction of more than a million acres of vines.
One has well observed that "a great sin committed once shows where the
devil has been; but petty sins, nourished into a habit, show where the
devil lives."
[Illustration: "HER FATHER'S BAD WAYS MADE HER LIFE HARD." (_See page
38._)]
One of the discoveries of modern medical science is, that the disease
known as cholera may be produced by a microscopic insect (the _Conina
Bacillus_) being taken into the stomach inadvertently with our food.
This minute creature propagates with enormous rapidity in the blood,
until that terrible malady is the result. Thus many great things are
developed from the very smallest--not only great evils, but great
blessings also.
In doing good, we must not despise "the day of small things." The
beginnings, though imperfect and weak, are not without their own
peculiar value, and ultimately they lead on to excellence.
Travellers on the continent are often struck by the contrast exhibited
between two paintings which are shown in the museum at Rotterdam. The
one is exceedingly poor--a mere daub. The most enthusiastic connoisseur
cannot discover in it any mark of genius. The other painting is a grand
work of art, almost priceless in value. Yet, strange to say, the same
painter executed both--the celebrated Rembrandt. The first illustrates
the commencement of his career as an artist; the other is a masterpiece,
while many years of earnest, patient toil intervened.
There must be a beginning to all things, and many dear Sabbath scholars
have been instrumental of good to their parents and friends. I will
mention one instance of this, selected from scores which have come under
notice at different times.
In a miserable home there once resided a drunken father, with one girl,
his only child. Of course, he took no particular interest in her
welfare, either body or soul. But some kind friend got her to attend a
Sabbath School. There she was brought to know and love the Saviour, and
often during the week, while attending to the house, she was known to
sing the sweet hymns she had learned. This was her only comfort, for her
father's bad ways made her life hard.
One day, when she was thus occupied, her father was in another room,
sleeping off his drunkenness. On awaking, he heard the little maid
singing--
"There is a happy land,
Far, far away."
The Lord was pleased to use these words for another awakening. The grace
of God touched his heart, and he said to himself, "Yes, it must be far
away for her, poor thing; it cannot be here with me." That thought came
from God. It melted his frozen heart, brought him to his knees, caused
him to utter strong cries for mercy, led him to ask his little daughter
to explain the way of salvation, and ultimately he was enabled to
rejoice in pardoning mercy.
Dear young Gleaners, may the Lord thus be pleased to bless the reading
of the LITTLE GLEANER, and the instruction imparted in the Sabbath
School, first to your own soul, and then make you a similarly honoured
instrument of good to others.
A. E. REALFF.
_Dunstable._
GOD never wrought miracles to convince atheism, because His ordinary
works convince it.
A SUNNY, happy face naturally, is worth a world of recipes upon
cheerfulness. Only let one possessing it come into a room where there
are a number of melancholy souls, and see how soon the magnetic
influence begins to relax the lines of care around the mouth and eyes of
the burdened ones, and the light of forgotten smiles to illumine the
dark faces! The very breath of summer has blown through the room,
bringing the breath of meadow sweets on its wings.
HOW A GREAT MISTAKE WAS DISCOVERED.
A TRUE INCIDENT.