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THE CHILD-HEROINE OF NEW BRUNSWICK

We have read a touching incident about three little children, who, last autumn, late in the season, wandered alone in a dreary region of New Brunswick. The sun had already sunk in the west, and the gloom of evening was spreading itself over the surrounding country.

The night came on fast; and feeling sure that they could not get home before daybreak, the eldest (a girl of only six years) quietly placed the two little ones in a sheltered nook on the sea-beach; and fearing the cold, chilly night for the younger children, Mary stripped off most of her own clothes to keep them warm.

She then started off to gather dry sea-weed, and whatever else she could find, to cover them with. Having tenderly in this way wrought for some time to make them a nest, she at last fell down exhausted with the cold, and half bare to the cold inclement night.

That evening the loving father and tender mother sat up wondering at their children’s long absence; the hours dragged slowly past with anxious watching, and silent listening for the well-known little pattering feet. In vain the fond parents’ eyes pierced through the darkness. At length they roused the neighbors with their anxious inquiries after their lost ones. All that night was passed in searching and in tears, till early in the morning, lying fast asleep, and same- – -what numbed with cold, were found little Johnny and Lizzie. But, oh I a touching spectacle lay near them; their young savior was stiff, cold and dead on the sea-weed which the poor little child-heroine had not strength to drag into the nook, where those she so deeply loved, and died to save, were sleeping. Thus this little New Brunswick girl died in her successful and self-sacrificing endeavor to save her brother and sister.

Does not this recall the love of the Lord Jesus Christ to you who read? Mary went to the full extent of human love in dying for her little brother and sister. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Yet the Lord Jesus laid down his life for his enemies; for “scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die; but God commendeth His love toward us,” etc. He makes no mistakes. Yet how many listen to this story with more emotion and interest than they do to the story of the cross, where the love of Jesus, the Son of God, is told in letters of blood! – Dawn of the Morning.

THE BLIND RESTORED TO SIGHT

At the age of twenty years, a lady in Winchester, Iowa, began to lose her health, and in a short time was confined to her bed. And she writes; “In addition to this, I lost the use of my eyes, and was blind and helpless, a greater portion of my time, for five years.

“I enjoyed the blessing of prayer and trust some six months before feeling at liberty to pray for the healing of my body; fearing I should desire it without due submission to God’s will. It was with fear and trembling that I first made known this request. Though my pleadings in this direction were earnest, and often agonizing, yet I could say with a fervor as never before: “Not my will but Thine be done.”

“About the end of November, or early in December, 1873, I realized that my faith was perfect, that I was ready now to be healed; that my faith was momentarily waiting on God, and resting without a doubt on the promises. From this time forward, my faith remained fixed with but one exception. During the time between December, 1873, and July 1874, I was healed to such an extent that I could walk some, and see more or less every day, though sometimes with only one of my eyes. A portion of this time, I felt as though in a furnace of fire; but amid the flames, I realized the presence of the Son of God, who said: ‘I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction.’ This for a time seemed an answer to my petition, and so I thought it my life work to suffer. For a while my faith became inactive, and I almost ceased praying for my health. Though I felt submissive, yet somehow I was soon crying, and that most instinctively: “Thou Son of David, have mercy on me!” After this, my faith did not waver. Oh, the lesson of patience I learned in thus waiting on God’s good time! And with what comfort could I present my body an offering to Him, realizing that as soon as at all possible with His will, I should be healed; I had an assurance of this, but did not know whether it would be during life, or accomplished only at death.

In this manner I waited before God until the morning of the 26th of July, when, without ecstasy of joy, or extra illumination, came a sense of the presence of Jesus, and a presentation of this gift, accompanied with these words: “Here is the gift for which you have been praying; are you willing to receive it?”

I at first felt the incoming of the Divine power at the parts affected, steadily driving out the disease, until death was swallowed up in victory. I at once arose from my bed, and proceeded to work about the house, to the great astonishment of my friends, some of whom thought me wild; but I continued my work, assuring them that Jesus had healed me. Realizing the scrutiny and doubt with which I was observed, I said to my father: “What do you think?” He replied: “It is supernatural power; no one can deny it.”

“My healing took place on Wednesday; on Saturday I was persuaded to lie down, but found the bed was no place for me; I thought of Peter’s wife’s mother, who arose and ministered to them, I knew that to her, strength as well as health was instantly given, as in the case of the palsied man, who rose, took up his bed, and departed. I returned to my work, backing my experience with those in God’s word, and since then have not lain down during the daytime.

My friends could not realize the completeness of the cure, until I read a full hour, and that by lamplight, and until asked to desist, the first opportunity after being healed.

A week from this time, I discharged the hired girl, taking charge of the household work, which I have continued with perfect ease. About four weeks after my healing, I had occasion to walk four miles, which I did with little or no weariness. Let me add, to the praise of God, that I have no disease whatever. Am able to do more hard work with less weariness than at any other period in my life, and faith in the Lord is the balm that made me whole.” — Selected

THE ANGEL OF MERCY

The following pathetic story of our late war is told by a Christian writer:

“At the close of the first bloody day of the battle of Fredericksburg, hundreds of the Union wounded were left lying on the ground, and the road ascending Mary’s Heights. All night and most of the next day, the open space was swept by artillery shot from both the opposing lines, and no one could venture to the sufferers’ relief. All that time their agonized cries went up for “Water! Water!” But there was no one to help them, and the roar of the guns mocked their distress. At length, however, one brave fellow, behind the stone ramparts where the Southern forces lay, gave way to his sympathy, and rose superior to his love for life. He was a sergeant in a South Carolina regiment, and his name was Richard Kirkland. In the afternoon he hurried to General Kershaw’s headquarters, and finding the commanding officer, said to him excitedly: “General, I can’t stand this any longer. Those poor souls out there have been praying and crying all night and all day, and it’s more than I can bear. I ask your permission to go and give them water?”

“But, do you know,”‘ said the general, admiring the soldier’s noble spirit, “do you know that as soon as you show yourself to the enemy you will be shot?” “Yes, sir; I know it; but to carry a little comfort to those poor dying men, I’m willing to run the risk.”

“The general hesitated for a moment, but finally said, with emotion: “Kirkland, it’s sending you to your death, but I cannot oppose such a motive as yours. For the sake of it I hope God will protect you. Go.”

Furnished with a supply of water, the brave sergeant immediately stepped over the wall, and applied himself to his work of Christ Like mercy. Wondering eyes looked on as he knelt by the nearest sufferer, and, tenderly raising his head, held the cooling cup to his parched lips. Before his first service of love was finished, every one in the Union lines understood the mission of the noble soldier in gray, and not a man fired a shot. He staid there on that terrible field an hour and a half, giving drink to the thirsty and dying, straightening their cramped and mangled limbs, pillowing their heads on their knapsacks, and spreading their army coats and blankets over them, as mother would cover her child; and all the while he was so engaged, until his gentle ministry was finished, the fusilade of death was hushed.”

So it is on life’s battlefield. The cannonade of sin and wickedness is hushed and powerless before the fearless Christian soldier who dares to do right, even though his life hangs in the balance. — N.W. Christian Advocate.

Testimony Of An Infidel That Was Saved

He had been given up by some as a hopeless case. One man, however, prayed for him until he prevailed, and the infidel was saved. A revival was in progress, and in the midst of a melting meet mg he arose and to the surprise of many, “with face shining as did the face of Moses when he saw God,” he gave the following striking and suggestive testimony: “I stand,” said Mr. R—-, “to tell you the story of my conversion.” His lips trembled slightly as he spoke, and his bosom heaved with suppressed emotion. “I am as a brand plucked out of the burning. The change in me is an astonishment to myself; and all brought about by the grace of God, and that unanswerable argument. It was a cold morning in January, and I had just begun my labor at the anvil in my shop, when I looked out and saw Mr. B—- approaching. He dismounted quickly and entered. As he drew near I saw he was agitated. His look was full of earnestness; his eyes were dimmed with tears; he took me by the hand; his chest heaved with emotion, and with indescribable tenderness he said: ‘Mr. R—-, I am greatly concerned for your salvation-greatly concerned for your salvation,’ and he burst into tears. He stood with my hand grasped in his; he struggled to regain self-possession; he often tried to speak, but not a word could he utter; and finding that he could say no more, he turned, went out of the shop, got on his horse, and rode slowly away. “‘Greatly concerned for my salvation,’ said I, audibly, and I stood and forgot to bring my hammer down. There I stood with it upraised – ‘greatly concerned for my salvation.’ Here is a new argument for the truth of religion, which I have never heard before, and which I do not know how to answer.

Had the aged man reasoned with me I could have confounded him; but here is no threadbare argument for the truth of religion. Religion must be truth or this man would not feel as he does ‘Greatly concerned for my salvation, it rung through my ears like a thunderclap in a clear sky Greatly concerned I ought, for my own salvation, I said “What shall I do? “I went to my house. My poor pious wife, whom I had always ridiculed for her religion, exclaimed: ‘Why, Mr. R—- what is the matter with you?’ ‘Matter enough,’ said I, filled with agony and overwhelmed with a sense of sin. ‘Old Mr. B—- has rode two miles this cold morning to tell me he was greatly concerned for my salvation. What shall I do? What shall I do?’ “‘I do not know what you can do, said my astonished wife; I do not know what better you can do than to get on your horse, and go and see him.

He can give you better counsel than I, and tell you what you must do to be saved.’ “I mounted my horse, and pursued after him. I found him alone in that same little room where he had spent the night in prayer for my poor soul, where he had shed many tears over such a reprobate as I, and had besought God to have mercy upon me. “I am come,’ said I to him, ‘to tell you that I am greatly concerned for my own salvation’ “‘Praised be God,’ said the aged man. ‘It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners,’ even the chief: and he began at that same scripture, and preached to me Jesus. On that same floor we knelt, and together we prayed, and we did not separate that day till God spoke peace to my soul. “I have often been requested to look at the evidence of the truth of religion, but blessed be God, I have evidence for its truth here,” laying his hand upon his heart, “which nothing can gainsay or resist. I have often been led to look at this, and that argument for the truth of Christianity; but I could overturn and, as I thought, completely demolish and annihilate them all.

But I stand here tonight, thankful to acknowledge that God sent an argument to my conscience and heart, which could not the answered or resisted, when a weeping Christian came to tell me how greatly concerned he was for my salvation. God taught him that argument when he spent the night before him in prayer for my soul! Now I can truly say, I am a happy man. My peace flows like a river. My consistent, uncomplaining wife, who so long bore with my impiety and unbelief, now rejoices with me, that, by the grace of God, I am what I am — that whereas I was blind, now I see. And here permit me to say if you would wish to reach the heart of such a poor sinner as I, you must get your qualifications where he did, in your closet and on your knees; So it shall be with me. I will endeavor to reach the hearts of my infidel friends through the closet and by prayer. He sat down overcome with emotion, amid the tears and the suppressed sobs of the assembly. All were touched; for all knew what he once was, all saw what he had now become.

SUPERHUMAN CONTROL OF THE LOCOMOTIVE

The following instance is given in the experience of a correspondent of The Christian, which occurred in the latter part of November 1864, while traveling with her aged father and two small girls

“We started from New Hampshire on Thursday morning, expecting to have ample time to get through to Indiana before Saturday night; but, after we crossed the St. Lawrence River, the next day, I think, there was a smashup on a freight train which hindered our train about two hours. I began to feel anxious, as I knew our limited means would not permit us to stop long on the way. After the cars had started again I inquired of the conductor what time we should get to Toledo, fearing we should not reach there in time for the down train. He said it would be impossible to gain the time:

Soon they changed conductors, and I made a similar inquiry, getting about the same answer. Still I hoped, till we reached the Detroit River. Here I found that, though they had put on all the steam they dared to, they were almost an hour be-hind time, so I should have to stay over till Sunday night.

“After getting seated in the cars on the other side, I ventured to ask the conductor if we should get to Toledo in time for the down train. He readily said: ‘No, madam; impossible! If we put on all the steam we dare to, we shall be more than half an hour behind time. If we were on some trains, we might hope they would wait; but on his, never! He is the most exact conductor you ever saw. He was never known to wait a second, say nothing about a minute, beyond the time.’ I then inquired if we could not stay at the depot. Me said: ‘No; you would all freeze to death, for the fire is out till Sunday evening.’

“A gentleman sitting in front of us said he would show us a good hotel near by, as he was acquainted there. I thanked him, but sunk back on my seat. Covering my eyes with my hand, and raising my heart to God, I said: ‘O God, if thou art my Father, and I am thy child, put it into the heart of that conductor to wait till we get there.’

“Soon I became calm, and fell asleep, not realizing that God would answer my poor prayer; but, when we reached Toledo, to the astonishment of us all, there stood the conductor, wanting to know the reason why he had to wait; when our conductor told him there was a lady with her crippled father and two little daughters, who were going down on that train.

Soon as all were out of the car, both conductors came with their lanterns, and gave their aid in helping my father to the other train, where they had reserved seats by keeping the door locked. All was hurry and confusion to me, as I had my eye on father, fearing he might fall, it being very slippery, when the baggage master said: “Your checks, madam!” I handed them to him, and rushed into the car; but, before I got seated, the car started, and I had no checks for my baggage. Again my heart cried out: “O Thou that hearest prayer, take care of my baggage!” believing He could do that as well as make the conductor wait. In a few moments the conductor came to me with a face radiant with smiles, saying: “Madam, I waited a whole half hour for you; a thing I never did before since I was a conductor, so much as to wait one minute after my time.” He said: “I know it was your father that I was waiting for, because there was nothing else on the train for which I could have waited.” I exclaimed, in a half-suppressed tone, “Praise the Lord!” I could not help it; it gushed out. Then he said: “At the very moment all were on board, and I was ready to start, such a feeling came over me as I had never had in my life before. I could not start. Something kept saying to me, you must wait; for there is something pending on that train you must wait for. I waited, and here you are, all safe.” Again my heart said, Praise the Lord! And he started to leave me, when I said: “But there is one thing.” “What is it?” was his quick reply. “I gave the baggage-master my checks, and have none in return.” “What were the numbers?” I told him. “I have them,” he said, handing them to me; “but your baggage will not be there till Monday morning. We had no time to put it on, we had waited so long.” — Selected.