Moody's Stories Part 18

"Yes," he said, "and a curious thing happened that night; this hymn recalled it to my mind. I was on sentry duty on the edge of a wood. It was a dark night and very cold, and I was a little frightened because the enemy were supposed to be very near at hand. I felt very homesick and miserable, and about midnight, when everything was very still, I was beginning to feel very weary and thought that I would comfort myself by praying and singing a hymn. I remember singing this hymn--

'All my trust on Thee is stayed, All my help from Thee I bring.

Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of Thy wing.'

"After I had sung those words a strange peace came down upon me, and through the long night I remember having felt no more fear."

"Now," said the other man, "listen to my story. I was a Union soldier, and was in the wood that night with a party of scouts. I saw you standing up, although I didn't see your face, and my men had their rifles focused upon you waiting the word to fire, but when you sang out--

'Cover my defenceless head With the shadow of Thy wing.'

I said, 'Boys, put down your rifles; we will go home.' I couldn't kill you after that."

The Sinner's Heart

When I was in Dublin some years ago I got up to go to an early meeting, and found the servants had not opened the front door; so I pulled back a bolt, but I could not get the door open. Then I turned a key, but the door would not open. Then I found there was another bolt at the top and another bolt at the bottom. Still the door would not open. Then I found there was a bar, and then I found a night-lock. In all I found five or six different fastenings.

I am afraid that door represents every sinner's heart. The door of his heart is double-locked, double-bolted, and double-barred. Oh, my friends, pull back the bolts, and let the King of glory in!

Nothing Small

There are a great many different ways of doing good. A lady once visited a hospital, and noticed with what pleasure the patients would smell and look at the flowers sent to them. Said she:

"If I had known that a bunch of flowers would do so much good, I would have sent some from home."

As soon as she got home, she sent some flowers out of her garden. It was a little thing--a bouquet of flowers. It might be a very insignificant work--very small; but if it was done in the right spirit, G.o.d accepted it. A cup of water given in His name is accepted as given to Himself. Nothing that is done for G.o.d is small.

An Anecdote about Tennyson

It is said that Tennyson once asked an old Christian woman if there was any news.

"Why, Mr. Tennyson," she replied, "there's only one piece of news that I know, and that is--Christ died for all men."

"That is old news, and good news, and new news," Tennyson responded.

On Satan's Ground

There is a legend that the Apostle John was much distressed over the fall of a young convert. He summoned Satan before him, and reproached him for ruining so good a youth.

"I found your good youth on my ground," said Satan; "so I took him."

The only safe course is to avoid temptation altogether.

Two Bidding for the Soul

There are two who are bidding for your soul and mine--the Lord Jesus and Satan.

Satan bids, and he offers that which he cannot give. He is a liar, and has been from the foundation of the world. I pity the man who is living on the promises of the devil. He will never satisfy. But the Lord Jesus is able to give all that He offers. And what does He offer? He offers peace and joy and comfort that the world knows not of. He offers eternal life in the kingdom of G.o.d. He offers a seat in His mansions. We are to sit with Him upon His throne.

May G.o.d help you to make a right choice! Make up your mind you will not rest until the great question of eternity is settled, until you have crossed the borderland, and pressed into the kingdom of G.o.d.

Tried and Proven

I knew an old lady that marked in the margin of her Bible, opposite the promises. T. P.; T. for "tried," and P. for "proven." What we want is to try the Bible and see if it is not true.

The Prairie Fire

Out in the Western country, in the autumn, when men go hunting, and there has not been any rain for months, sometimes the prairie gra.s.s catches fire, and there comes up a very strong wind, and the flames just roll along twenty feet high, and travel at the rate of thirty or forty miles an hour, consuming man and beast. When the hunters see it coming, what do they do? They know they cannot run as fast as the fire can run. Not the fleetest horse can escape. They just take a match and light the gra.s.s around them, and let the flames sweep, and then they get into the burnt district and stand safe. They hear the flames roar as they come along, they see death coming toward them, but they do not fear, they do not tremble, because the fire has swept over the place where they are, and there is no danger. There is nothing for the fire to burn.

There is one mountain that the wrath of G.o.d has swept over--that is, Mount Calvary; and the fire spent its fury upon the bosom of the Son of G.o.d. Take your stand by the cross, and you will be safe for time and eternity.

Perfect Order

A good many people are afraid of doing anything out of the regular lines--of doing anything out of order. Now, you will find perfect order in a cemetery. You will find perfect order where there is death.

Where there is life you will find something out of order.

Is your Soul Insured?

"Pa," said a little boy as he climbed to his father's knee, and looked into his face as earnestly as if he understood the importance of the subject, "pa, is your soul insured?"

"What are you thinking about, my son?" replied the agitated father.

"Why do you ask that question?"

"Why, pa, I heard Uncle George say that you had your house insured, and your life insured; but he didn't believe you had thought of your soul, and he was afraid you would lose it; won't you get it insured right away?"

The father leaned his head on his hand, and was silent. He owned broad acres of land that were covered with a bountiful produce; his barns were even now filled with plenty, his buildings were all well covered by insurance; and as if that would not suffice for the maintenance of his wife and only child in case of his decease, he had, the day before, taken a life-policy for a large amount; yet not one thought had he given to his own immortal soul. On that which was to waste away and become part and parcel of its native dust he had spared no pains; but for that which was to live on and on through the long ages of eternity he had made no provision. "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"

Memory

I have been twice at the point of death. I was drowning once, and just as I was going down the third time I was rescued. In the twinkling of an eye my whole life came flashing across my mind. I cannot tell you how it was. I cannot tell you how a whole life can be crowded into a second of time; but everything I had done from my earliest childhood--it all came flashing across my mind. And I believe that when G.o.d touches the secret spring of memory, every one of our sins will come back, and if they have not been blotted out by the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, they will haunt us as eternal ages roll on.

We talk about our forgetting, but we cannot forget if G.o.d says "Remember." We talk about the recording angel keeping the record of our life. I have an idea that when we get to heaven, or into eternity, we will find that recording angel has been ourselves. G.o.d will make every one of us keep our own record; these memories will keep the record, and when G.o.d shall say, "Son, remember," it will all flash across our mind. It won't be G.o.d who will condemn us; it will be ourselves. We shall condemn ourselves, and we shall stand before G.o.d speechless.

There is a man in prison. He has been there five years. Ask that man what makes the prison so terrible to him. Ask him if it is the walls and the iron gates--ask him if it is his hard work, and he will tell you _no_; he will tell you what makes the prison so terrible to him is _memory_; and I have an idea that if we got down into the lost world, we would find that is what makes h.e.l.l so terrible--the remembrance that they once heard the Gospel, that they once had Christ offered to them, that they once had the privilege of being saved, but they made light of the Gospel, they neglected salvation, they rejected the offer of mercy, and now if they would accept it they could not.

Balaam's a.s.s

A friend of mine was going back to Scotland, and he heard a couple of these little modern philosophers discussing the Bible. One said: "The Bible says that Balaam's a.s.s spoke. Now, I am a scientific man, and I have taken the pains to examine an a.s.s's mouth, and it is so formed that it couldn't speak."