Milo

A MANIFESTATION OF PARENTAL LOVE

There are some who reject Christianity because it seems to them incredible that God would have taken so much trouble, as the New Testament represents him to have done, for the salvation of creatures so infinitely beneath Him as we are. They forget that the New Testament teaches also that God is our Father.

That being true, I declare to you that it is not surprising that God made such sacrifice to save us. Even a man will not permit a child to perish — any child, it need not be his own without putting forth mighty effort to save it.One fact is worth a dozen arguments; and I will therefore ask you to listen to a humble man, as he relates an incident in his otherwise uneventful life.

For a little while imagine yourself to be seated around the table of an American boardinghouse, where the inmates are spending an hour or two in the evening relating the more remarkable events that have occurred to them; imagine that you are listening to one of the guests there, instead of to me.

My name is Anthony Hunt. I am a drover, and I live many miles away upon the western prairie. There wasn’t a house in sight when we moved there, my wife and I and now we haven’t many neighbors, though those we have are good men. One day about ten years ago, I went away from home to sell some fifty head of cattle, fine creatures as ever I saw.

I was to buy some groceries and dry goods before I came back and, above all, a doll for our youngest child, Dolly (she never had a shop doll of her own, only the rag-babies her mother made her). Dolly could talk of nothing else, and went down to the very gate to call after me to “buy a big one.” Nobody but a parent can understand how my mind was on that toy, and how, when the cattle were sold, the first thing I started off to buy was Dolly’s doll.

I found a large one, with eyes that would open and shut when you pulled a wire, and had it wrapped up in paper, and tucked it under my arm while I had the parcels of calico, and delaine, and tea, and sugar put up. It might have been more prudent to have stayed until the morning, but I felt anxious to get back, and eager to hear Dolly’s prattle about the doll she was so eagerly expecting. I mounted a steady-going old horse of mine and, pretty well loaded, started for home. Night set in before I was a mile from town, and settled down dark as pitch while I was in the midst of the wildest bit of road I know of.

I could have felt my way through, I remembered it so well, and it was almost like doing that when the storm that had been brewing broke, and the rain fell in torrents. I was five, or may be six miles from home, too. I rode on as fast as I could; but suddenly I heard a little cry, like a child’s voice. I stopped short and listened. I heard it again; I called, and it answered me. I couldn’t see a thing; all was dark as pitch. I got down and felt about in the grass; called again, and again was answered. Then I began to wonder.

I’m not timid; but I was known to be a drover, and to have money about me. I thought it might be a trap to catch me, and there to rob and murder me. I am not superstitiousm, not very, but how could a real child be out on the prairie in such a night at such an hour? It might be more than human. The bit of coward that hides itself in most men showed itself to me then, and I was half inclined to run away. But once more I heard that piteous cry, and, said I: “If any man’s child is hereabouts, Anthony Hunt is not the man to let it lie here and die.”

I searched again. At last I bethought me of a hollow under the hill, and groped that way. Sure enough, I found a little dripping thing, that moaned and sobbed as I took it in my arms. I called my horse, and he came to me, and I mounted, and tucked the little soaked thing under my coat as best I could, promising to take it home to mamma.It seemed tired to death, and soon cried itself to sleep against my bosom. It had slept there over an hour when I saw my own windows.

There were lights in them, and I supposed my wife had lit them for my sake; but when I got into the door, I saw something was the matter, and stood still with dead fear of heart five minutes before I could lift the latch. At last I did it, and saw the room full of neighbors, and my wife amid them weeping. When she saw me she hid her face. “Oh, don’t tell him,” she said; “it will kill him.” “What is it, neighbors?” I cried. And one said: “Nothing now, I hope. What’s that in your arms?” “A poor lost child,” said I. “I found it on the road. “Take it, will you? I’ve turned faint.” And I lifted the sleeping thing, and saw the face of my own child, my little Dolly. It was my darling, and no other, that I had picked up on the drenched road.

My little child had wandered out to meet papa and the doll, while her mother was at work, and for her they were lamenting as for one dead. I thanked God on my knees before them all. It is not much of a story, neighbors; but I think of it often in the nights, and wonder how I could bear to live now, if I had not stopped when I heard the cry for help upon the road the little baby-cry, hardly louder than a squirrel’s chirp. Is God less pitiful than man?

Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.” Did you notice the last sentence in that man’s story? “It is not much of a story, neighbors; but I think of it often in the nights, and wonder how I could bear to live now if I had not stopped when I heard that cry for help upon the road — that little baby cry, hardly louder than a squirrel’s chirp.”

To me that sentence explains the whole story of redemption. That man’s love for his child was such that life would have been intolerable to him had he failed to save her.

Sinner! God the Father listened to the cry for help, the piteous wail of misery that ascended to Him from His lost children; and he sent His Son to seek and to save that which was lost.

For, be it remembered, He knew not merely that certain children were perishing, but that they were His children. — Homiletic Cyclopedia.

A MAN WHO LACKED MORAL COURAGE

A few years ago I went to close a meeting, and said: “Are there any here who would like to have me remember them in prayer? I would like to have them rise!” And there was a man rose, and when I saw him stand up, my heart leaped in me with joy. I had been anxious for him a long time. I went to him as soon as the meeting was over, and took him by the hand, and said: “You are coming out for God, are you not?”

He said: ” I want to, and have made up my mind to be a Christian; only there is one thing standing in my way.” “What is that?” I asked. “Well,” he replied, “I lack moral courage.” Naming a friend of his, he added: ” If he had been here tonight I should not have risen; I am afraid when he hears I have risen for prayer he will begin to laugh at me, and I won’t have moral courage to stand up for Christ.”

I said: “If Christ is, what he is represented in the Bible, he is worth standing up for; and if heaven is what we are told it is in the Bible, it is worth living for.” “I lack moral courage,” he answered; and the man was trembling from head to foot.

I thought he was just at the very threshold of heaven, and that one step more was going to take him in, and that he world take the step that night. I talked and prayed with him, and the Spirit seemed to be striving mightily with him; but he did not get the light. Night after night he came, and the Spirit strove with him; but just one thing kept him back, he lacked moral courage.

At last the Spirit of God — which had striven so mightily with him, seemed to leave him, and there were no more strivings, he left off coming to church, was off among his old companions, and would not meet me in the street; he was ashamed to do so. About six months afterward I got a message from him, and found him on what he thought was his dying bed, he wanted to know if there was hope for him at the eleventh hour. I tried to tell him that there was hope for any man that would accept Christ. I prayed for him, and day after day I visited him.

Contrary to all expectations, he began to recover; and when he was convalescent, finding him one day sitting in front of his house, I sat by his side, and said: “You will soon be well enough to come up to the church, and when you are, you will come up; and you are just going to confess Christ boldly, are you not?” “Well,” says he, “I promised God when I was on what I thought to be my dying bed I would serve Him, and I made up my mind to be a Christian; but I am not going to be one just now.

Next spring I am going over to Lake Michigan, and I am going to buy a farm and settle down, and then I am going to be a Christian.” I said, “How dare you talk that way! How do you know that you are going to live till next spring? Have you a lease of your life?” “I was never better than I am now; I am a little weak, but I will soon have my strength. I have a fresh lease of my life, and will be well for a good many years yet,” he answered.

I said: “It seems to me you are tempting God;” and I pleaded with him to come out boldly. “No,” he said; “the fact is I have not the courage to face my old companions, and I cannot serve God in Chicago.” I said “If God has not grace enough to keep you in Chicago, He has not in Michigan.” I urged him then and there to surrender his soul and body to the Lord Jesus; but the more I urged him the more irritated he got, till at last he said “Well, you need not trouble yourself any more about my soul; I will attend to that. If I am lost it will be my own fault. I will take the risk.”

I left him, and in about a week I got a message from his wife. Going to the house, I met her at the door weeping. I said: “What is the trouble?” “Oh, sir! I have just had a council of physicians here, and they have all given my husband up to die; they say he cannot live.”

I said: “Does he want to see me?” She replied: “No.” “Why did you send?” “Why,” she said, “I cannot bear to see him die in this terrible state of mind.” “What is his state of mind?” “Why, he says that his damnation is sealed, and he will be in hell in a little while.”

I went into the room, but he turned his head away. I said: “How is it with you?” Not a word; he was as silent as death. I spoke the second time, hut he made no response. I looked him in the face, and called him by name, and said “Will you not tell me how it is with you?” he turned, and fixed that awful, deathly look upon me, and, pointing to the stove, he said: “My heart is as hard as the iron in that stove; it is too late, my damnation is sealed, and I shall be in hell in a little while.”

I said: “Don’t talk so; you can be saved now if you will.” He replied: “Don’t mock me I know better.” I talked with him, and quoted promise after promise, but he said not one was for him. “Christ has come knocking at the door of my heart many a time, and the last time he came I promised to let Him in; and when I got well I turned away again, and now I have to perish without Him. “I talked, but I saw I was doing no good, and so I threw myself on my knees.

He said: “You can pray for my wife and children, you need not pray for me; it is a waste of your time, it is too late. “I tried to pray, but it seemed as if what he said was true – it seemed as if the heavens were brass over me. I rose and took his hand, amid it seemed to me as if I were bidding farewell to a friend that I never was to see again in time or eternity.

He lingered till the sun went down. His wife told me that his end was terrible. All that he was heard to say were these fearful words: “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved. “There he lay, and every little while he would take up the awful lamentation: “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved.” And just as the sun was sinking behind those western prairies he was going into the arms of death.

As he was expiring, his wife noticed that his lips were quivering, he was trying to say something, and she reached over her ear, and all she could hear was ” The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved;” and the angels bore him to the judgment. He lived a Christless life, he died a Christless death, we wrapped him in a Christless shroud, nailed him in a Christhess coffin, and bore him to a Christless grave. Oh, how dark! Oh, how sad! I may be speaking to some one today, and the harvest may be passing with you, the summer may be ending. Oh, be wise now, and accept the Lord Jesus Christ. May God’s blessing rest upon us all, and may we meet in glory, is the prayer of my heart! – D.L. Moody.

A GUIDING VOICE

A touching story came to us from Minnesota. A farmer, living on the edge of one of the many lakes of that state, started to cross it in a small sail-boat one evening after dark. The wind changed, and a gust overturned the boat when he was in the middle of the lake. The surface of the water was covered with large masses of floating ice. The farmer was an expert swimmer, and he struck out boldly towards the shore, where he thought his house stood; but he grew confused in the darkness; the ice formed rapidly over the whole lake.

He was in a small, quickly-narrowing circle, in which he beat about wildly, the chill of death creeping over his body. He gave up at last, and was sinking in the freezing water, when he heard a sound.

It was the voice of his little girl calling him: “Father! Father!” He listened. The sound of her voice would tell him which way home lay. It put fresh life into him. He thought: “If she would only call once more! But she will be frightened at the dark and cold. She will go in and shut the door”

But just then came the cry, loud and clear: “Father!” “I turned,” said the man afterward, in telling the story, “and struck out in the opposite direction. I had been going away from home. I fought my way; the ice broke before me. I reached the shore and home at last. But my dear was away from — Wesleyan Methodist.

What a multitude of souls about us, like that poor man, have lost their balance, and let go their grip on the life-boat, and are struggling amid the cold, icy waves of sin — soon to sink to the bottomless pit and be forever lost, unless some one goes as near to them as possible, and calls them in the right direction. Just one word spoken in Jesus’ name may show them the right way, and be the means of their salvation.

Dear brother, the sound of your voice, the words you may speak, the kind action you may do, may show some fallen brother the right way home. O let us not be weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap if we faint not. — Editor.

A GREAT REVIVAL IN ANSWER TO PREVAILING PRAYER

During the winter of t885-86 we were called to hold a revival meeting in New Haven, Shiawassee county, Michigan. During the first few days of the meeting we found many difficulties, and the powers .of darkness arrayed against the work. Keenly realizing our need, we went to God in earnest prayer, and soon experienced a wonderful travail of soul for the desolation of Zion. In less than twenty-four hours from the time this wonderful spirit, of wrestling prayer, was given us, the work commenced to move in earnest. The pastor, in sobs and tears, confessed that he was backslidden, asked pardon of some of his members, and came to the altar seeking forgiveness of God.

Many professed Christians followed his example, and in a few days the whole country was in a flame of revival, such as had never been known in that section of the country.

The spiritual condition of the community was so changed that for years sinners were converted at almost every public gathering of God’s people. Over two years after the commencement of that wonderful awakening, at a camp meeting held in the same community, a paper was drawn up endorsing our work, and signed by several ministers of the gospel and forty or fifty others; and from that paper we clip the following statement in reference to this glorious revival, known in all that section as “the big revival”: “When Brother Shaw came, great division and lack of harmony existed among the members of the different churches in the neighborhood, Methodist, Episcopal, Free Methodist, Weslyan Methodist, and German Evangelical.

Bible Christianity was at a low ebb, but he preached the truth of God faithfully. He condemned sin of every kind. God honored the message by a mighty outpouring of the Holy Ghost. The truth went home to hearts. The whole county was stirred. Scores who opposed the work bitterly for a time, were brought under conviction, saved, and became its warmest friends. Under the mighty power of God souls were humbled, confessions were made, wrongs were made right, and sectarian bigotry melted away.

Hearts were united. Several ministers of the gospel knelt at the altar as seekers. The work was so thorough that no difference could be discovered among the members of the different churches. All were equally separated from the world, and equally baptized with the Holy Ghost and fire. During the meeting, lasting in all about seven weeks, between two and three hundred souls were gloriously converted, reclaimed or sanctified. Never has there been known in all this community such a revival.” – Editor.

 A GREAT REVIVAL IN A SINGLE NIGHT

One of the most remarkable experiences we have had in seventeen years of evangelistic work, occurred in the spring of 1890. It will be remembered that at this time the United Brethren Church was sadly divided on the secrecy question, and in many places two pastors were employed, one by the “Liberals ” and another by the “Radicals” of the same congregation. In our travels we stopped to visit an old friend, who was the “Radical” pastor in such a place as these to whom we have referred. We had no thought of stopping only over the Sunday, and never did we get into a place where the people had less anticipations of a revival. Much hard feeling had existed, and many unkind, unchristian things had been said and done.

Sunday evening our friend invited us to preach for him. God gave us unusual liberty in prayer and in preaching His word, and opened the very windows of heaven, and showers of blessing fell upon that dry and barren land. In spite of circumstances so utterly forbidding, in one short hour, the people found themselves in the midst of a powerful revival. We never witnessed so much confession in so short a time. Many in tears asked each other’s forgiveness, and then came to the altar together, and prayed that they might regain their first love; and God heard and answered their prayers. The “Liberal” pastor was not present, but the “Liberal” presiding-elder was; and he and the “Radical” pastor had had little confidence in each other; but under ‘the mighty power of the Spirit, their hearts were united, and they embraced each other in tears.

Thus did God manifest His power, and get to His own name glory; and to Him alone be praise, both now and forever, for in His hands are the hearts of the children of men. — Editor.