Little Johnny and his sister were one day going through a long, narrow
railroad tunnel. The railroad company had built small clefts here and
there through the tunnel, so that if any one got caught in the tunnel
when the train was passing, they could save themselves. After this
little boy and girl had gone some distance in the tunnel they heard a
train coming. They were frightened at first, but the sister just put her
little brother in one cleft and she hurried and hid in another. The
train came thundering along, and as it passed, the sister cried out:
"Johnny, cling close to the rock! Johnny, cling close to the rock!" and
they were safe. The "Rock of Ages" may be beaten by the storms and waves
of adversity, but "cling close to the rock, Christians, and all will be
well." The waves don't touch the Christian; he is sheltered by the Rock
"that is higher than I," by the One who is the strong arm, and the
Saviour who is mighty and willing to save.
Obedience.
Suppose I say to my boy, "Willie, I want you to go out and bring me a
glass of water." He says he doesn't want to go. "I didn't ask you
whether you wanted to go or not, Willie; I told you to go." "But I don't
want to go," he says. "I tell you, you must go and get me a glass of
water." He does not like to go. But he knows I am very fond of grapes,
and he is very fond of them himself, so he goes out, and some one gives
him a beautiful cluster of grapes. He comes in and says, "Here, papa,
here is beautiful cluster of grapes for you." "But what about the
water?" "Won't the grapes be acceptable, papa?" "No, my boy, the grapes
are not acceptable; I won't take them; I want you to get me a glass or
water." The little fellow doesn't want to get the water, but he goes
out, and this time some one gives him an orange. He brings it in and
places it before me. "Is that acceptable?" he asks. "No, no, no!" I say;
"I want nothing but water; you cannot do anything to please me until you
get the water." And so, my friends, to please God you must first obey
Him.
Jumping into Father's Arms.
I remember, while in Mobile attending meetings, a little incident
occurred which I will relate. It was a beautiful evening, and just
before the meeting some neighbors and myself were sitting on the front
piazza enjoying the evening. One of the neighbors put one of his
children upon a ledge eight feet high, and put out his hands and told
him to jump. Without the slightest hesitation he sprang into his
father's arms. Another child was lifted up, and he, too, readily sprang
into the arms of his father. He picked up another boy, larger than the
others, and held out his arms, but he wouldn't jump. He cried and
screamed to be taken down. The man begged the boy to jump, but it was of
no use; he couldn't be induced to jump. The incident made me curious,
and I stepped up to him and asked, "How was it that those two little
fellows jumped so readily into your arms and the other boy wouldn't?"
"Why," said the man, "those two boys are my children and the other boy
isn't, he don't know me."
How Three Sunday School Children Met Their Fate.
When the Lawrence Mills were on fire a number or years ago--I don't mean
on fire, but when the mill fell in--the great mill fell in, and after it
had fallen in, the ruins caught fire. There was only one room left
entire, and in it were three Mission Sunday-school children imprisoned.
The neighbors and all hands got their shovels and picks and crowbars,
and were working to set the children free. It came on night and they had
not yet reached the children. When they were near them, by some
mischance a lantern broke, and the ruins caught fire. They tried to put
it out, but could not succeed. They could talk with the children, and
even pass to them some coffee and some refreshments, and encourage them
to keep up. But, alas, the flames drew nearer and nearer to this prison.
Superhuman were the efforts made to rescue the children; the men bravely
fought back the flames; but the fire gained fresh strength and returned
to claim its victims. Then piercing shrieks arose when the spectators
saw that the efforts of the firemen were hopeless. The children saw
their fate. They then knelt down and commenced to sing the little hymn
we have all been taught in our Sunday-school days, Oh! how sweet--: "Let
others seek a home below which flames devour and waves overflow." The
flames had now reached them; the stifling smoke began to pour into their
little room, and they began to sink, one by one, upon the floor. A few
moments more and the fire circled around them and their souls were taken
into the bosom of Christ. Yes, let others seek a home below if they
will, but seek ye the Kingdom of God with all your hearts.