Milo

LET THEM ABIDE TILL THE MORROW

The beautiful valley of Wyoming, on the banks of the Susquehanna river, in Luzerne Co., Pa., has long been known alike to the student of history and the lovers of poetry and song. Dr. W. H. Van Doren records, in The Evangelist, an incident which recalls the calamities that overwhelmed Wyoming, and illustrates the gracious care of an everpresent God, for those who trust in Him.

It was in the beginning of July, 1778, that an aged saint, who with his four sons, lived on a mountain overlooking the valley, found that his barrel of meal was nearly exhausted, and bade his sons fill their sacks with grain, and early in the morning descend the long road to the mill in the valley. As requested, before daylight each of the boys had fed his horse, and they were all prepared by sunrise for their journey. And as the day would be too far spent to have their grain ground, they were accustomed at such times to spend the night near the mill in Wyoming. As the patriarch came forth in the morning from the closet of prayer, and said to the waiting sons, “Not today! the young men were greatly surprised. “But, father, our supply is used up, and why should we delay?” they said, as they turned and gazed over the valley, which lay in calm and quiet peacefulness before them. “Not today, my sons,” repeated with emphasis by the man of prayer, satisfied the youths that the father meant what he said. He added: “I know not what it means, but in my prayer my mind was deeply impressed with this word “Let them abide till the morrow.”

Without charging their venerated parent with superstition or ignorance, the obedient sons yielded to his, unladed their beasts, placed them in their stalls, and waited for another morning to come.

That memorable night a horde of savages, with torch and tomahawk, entered Wyoming Valley, and commenced their work of destruction; and it is said that before the bloody drama ended, not a house, barn, church, school, or mill, escaped the flames; and few of the inhabitants escaped the sudden but deadly blows of the savages. From one end of the valley to the other the settlers were butchered or burned with remorseless fury.

In the morning at sunrise, the father and sons were standing on the highest point, and lo! the valley was filled with volumes of ascending smoke and flames. The awful truth flashed on their minds. The aged saint kneeled down with his sons on the mountain-top, and in humble, adoring prayer thanked God for the promise: “The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him.” — Guiding Hand.

 KICKED FOR CHRIST’S SAKE

An evangelist said: “A little girl of eight years was sent on an errand by her parents. While on her way, she was attracted by the singing of a gospel meeting in the open air, and drew near. The conductor of the meeting was so struck with the child’s earnestness that he spoke to her, and told her about Jesus. She being the child of Roman Catholics, did not know much about Him, but the gentleman told her of His love to her. On returning home her father asked her what had detained her. She told him, and he cruelly beat her, forbidding her to go to any such meeting again. About a fortnight afterwards, she was so taken up with what she had previously heard of Jesus, that she forgot all about her message. She saw the same gentleman, who again told her more about the Savior. On her return home, she again told her father, as before, where she had been, and that she had not brought what she had been sent for, but that she had brought Jesus. Her father was enraged, and kicked the poor little creature until the blood came. She never recovered from this brutal treatment. Just before she breathed her last, she called her mother and said: “Mother, I have been praying to Jesus to save you and father.” Then pointing to her little dress, she said: “Mother, cut me a bit out of the blood-stained piece of my dress.” The mother, wondering, did so. “Now,” said the dying child, “Christ shed His blood for my sake, and l am going to take this to Jesus to show Him that I shed my blood for His sake.” Thus she died, holding firmly the piece of her dress, stained with her own blood. The testimony of that dear child was the means of leading both father and mother to Christ. — Selected.

KATE SHELLY’S BRAVERY

Six years ago Miss Shelly won a gold medal from the Iowa Legislature, “and a wealth of admiration from all who read of her act of heroism.” The facts are these In a fearful thunder-storm and a torrent of falling rain, she looked out of her window in the darkness of the night, and by the vivid flashes of lightning shining on the scene, she saw that a railroad bridge near her home had been swept away by the storm. Just then she saw the headlight of a locomotive swiftly approaching the spot where the bridge had just been swept away, and plunge into the abyss below.

She lighted her lantern, and alone, amidst the thunder, and lightning, and storm, she crept up a rocky steep, and with her clothes torn to rags, and lacerated flesh, she reached the rails, and on her hands and knees crept out to the last tie of the fallen bridge, swung the lantern back and forth over the abyss, until she heard the faint voice of the engineer, who, though in the greatest peril himself, cried to her to go quickly and give the alarm to save the express train, which was then coming toward that perilous spot, and some help also, to rescue him. She started for the nearest station, which was a mile away. To reach that station she had to cross a high trestle bridge of five hundred feet in length. She had gone but a few steps when a fearful gust of wind put out her lantern, which she then threw away, knowing that she could not relight it in the storm.

She then dropped upon her hands and knees, and crept along from tie to tie over the trestle. Her way was lighted only by frequent flashes of lightning. After crossing the bridge she hastened along the rails by the flashes of lightning to the station, and with what strength she had left told her story, and then fell in a dead faint at the station-agent’s feet. Help went quickly to the poor engineer’s rescue, and telegrams flew up and down the line, notifying all that the bridge was gone. While Miss Shelly lay yet unconscious, the express train came rushing into the depot.

When the passengers learned what perils the brave girl had passed through to save them, and saw her still lying in an unconscious state, they took her up tenderly, and bathed her torn and bleeding limbs, and soon brought her back to consciousness.

Oh, how the scene beggars description, as the men and women gather about this brave girl of sixteen, looking upon her pale face, her torn and bleeding form. As they think how she went through all this to save their lives, words are too weak to express the deep gratitude of their hearts. They laid a substantial expression of their appreciation at her feet.

Then, as the best they could do, they embalmed her memory in their warmest affections, while the world placed a wreath of lasting honor on her brow. And Kate Shelly, living or dying, with her approving conscience, can say: “I did what I could.” What an example to all Christians, who see so clearly the dark abyss just a step before unconverted men, and they rushing with great speed towards it.

Let us swing the lamp of truth before them, and cry with great earnestness: “Danger ahead! Bridge gone! No crossing but through the bleeding victim of Calvary!” May we all learn a lesson of sacrifice and effort to save others, from this incident, that in the coming day Christ, may say of us: “They have done what they could.” – A. B. Earle.

JOHN WESLEY HEALED IN ANSWER TO PRAYER

An illustrious example of constancy and power in prayer, we find in John Wesley : “It is said that ‘as a matter of habit and rule, John Wesley’s ordinary private praying consumed two hours a day.’ At times he would gather his company and pray all night, or till the power of God came down. Nothing was considered too great or too small to take to the Lord. Seized with a pain in the midst of his preaching, so that he could not speak, ‘I know my remedy,’ he says, and immediately kneeled down.

In a moment the pain was gone, and the voice of the Lord cried aloud to sinners. Being seized with a pain, fever and cough, so that he could scarcely speak, ‘I called on Jesus aloud to increase) my faith. While I was speaking my pain vanished away, my fever left me, and my bodily strength returned.’

“The elements, as well as sickness, were often in his way, and prayer removed the hindrances. ‘Just as I began to preach the sun broke out and shone exceedingly hot on my head. I found if it continued I should not be-able to speak long, and I lifted up my heart to God.

In a minute or two it was covered with clouds which continued till the service was over.’ And he says: ‘Let any one who please call this chance, I call it an answer to prayer.’ It was raining, and Wesley and his congregation were crowded out of the church, and the rain ceased the moment they came out. He says in regard to this incident: ‘ How many proofs must we have that there is no petition too little, any more than too great, for God to grant?’

“Wesley moved things mightily, because he moved God mightily. He became the prince of evangelists, because he was the prince of prayers. He stirred the world with the -fire of his zeal, because he had stirred heaven by the fire of his prayers. His pleas had access to men’s consciences, because they had access to God. If more men prayed as John Wesley prayed, there would be more of John Wesley’s thoroughly spiritual work done. ” – Prevailing Prayer, by Wigle.

JOHN KNOX’S PREVAILING PRAYER FOR SCOTLAND

Among the mighty men of faith and prayer whose names will stand forth until this world’s history is completed, is that of John Knox. The days of turbulence developed their holy zeal and courage. Summoned before the highest of earth’s great ones, true everywhere to God, and a man mighty in prayer, Queen Mary of Scotland once said of Knox that she feared his prayers more than an army of ten thousand men. On England’s throne sat Mary, the daughter of Henry VIII., who had been brought up by her mother, Catharine of Aragon, in the dark faith of Rome, a complete tool in the hands of the priests, whose one design was to destroy the Protestants. Soon the jails were filled, the fires kindled in Smithfield, and the whole land was one scene of desolation, and the Protestants were hunted as partridges on the mountains. The great heart of John Knox was stirred. On his knees, on his face for hours together before God, he pleaded for Scotland. “All Scotland for Christ! ” was his ceaseless cry.

In one of these seasons of mighty taking hold of God, he sprang to his feet with the cry: “Deliverance has come! Deliverance has come!” As soon as the courier could speed his way from London to the city where John Knox lived, he made the proclamation: “Mary, Queen of England, is dead!”

Pray ye the Lord of the Harvest, to raise up such men in our days, when the tide of worldliness threatens the whole church, and Catholicism is spreading her baneful influence over the free institutions of our land; only waiting for the chance to re-enact the scenes of St. Bartholomew’s day in France, or the massacre of ten thousand Protestants in one day as in Ireland, to crush out the religion of our fathers, to burn the Bible, and plunge the whole land into papal darkness — Sarah A. Cooke.