boy lived at a village called Elstow, near Bedford. He was the most wicked lad in all the neighbourhood. God his Father four times saved him from sudden death, for he was twice nearly drowned, once he fell into a deep pit, and once might have been stung by a poisonous adder, which he took up in his hands. God also spoke to him through his conscience, but he never would listen. After this he became a soldier, and was ordered at Leicester to be one of the party which was chosen to scale the walls, but one of his comrades thrust himself forward into John Bunyan's place, and that man was killed! At length a woman who heard him swear said to him, "That he was able to spoil all the youth in the whole town." And for the first time he felt ashamed. So God his Father roused him, and by His Holy Spirit led him on, and after years of sorrow, he became a son of God. You know if you have been very naughty, and your father or mother forgives you, you feel your heart grow warm with love to them, and if you are a little child you climb on their knees and kiss them, and if you are older you say to yourself, “What can I do to please them?” | Well, John Bunyan felt this strong love for his Father in heaven. So he went about telling people of this loving Father, and asking them also to be sons of God, and so become happy for ever. For doing this nothing else—John was caught and thrown into prison. This prison was built across a bridge, and here in two dungeons more than fifty persons were crowded, and for twelve long years there he remained. And there God showed him a wonderful vision. He saw the life of a human soul come out of wickedness, and go through all its journey right into heaven. He saw how Christian and Hopeful shivered in the water of the cold river, but still they "felt the bottom;" how the shining hosts met them on the other bank, and led them to the pearly gates; and then he says, "Now I saw in my dream that these two men went in at the gate; and lo! as they entered they were transfigured, and they had raiment put on that shone like gold. There was also that met them with harps and crowns and gave them to them—the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream that all the bells in the city rang again for joy, and it was said unto them, 'Enter ye into the joy of your Lord.' Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and, behold, the city shone like the sun. The streets also were paved with gold, and in them walked many men with crowns on their heads and palms in their hands. And after that they shut up the gates, which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them." them." But to be like John Bunyan, fit to go there, even children must ask to have their sins taken all away, for there is only one thing which cannot be found in heaven, and that is sin. I know a child to whose heart the Holy Spirit of God whispered, and one day she was found crying for her sins, crying because she felt herself so far away from God, so unfit to go to heaven. And what do you think her sins were? She had told at different times three untruths, and she copied her lesson from another girl's book instead of doing it herself, and thus had cheated her teacher. Have you, dear child, ever done so? Have you ever hated any one? or been unkind to your brothers and sisters? or been greedy, deceitful, or unforgiving? A little girl I knew died almost suddenly. She was only ill two or three days, but she was not afraid to die. She said, "Don't fret, mother, I'm going to heaven to Jesus.' And when her mother told me she said, “I don't know what I shall do without Polly; she never gave me a saucy word in her life, and she was such a willing child." Are you "a willing child?" You know what that word "willing" means; there is no need to explain it to you; if so, you are getting ready for your beautiful heavenly home, where God your Father is. THIRD EVENING. E. GARNETT. The sun son: Rev. xxi. 1-4, 22-27. Concluding Hymn : Opening Hymn: "Lord, a little band and lowly." Lesis sinking fast." Many children, and perhaps some of you, are afraid of the darkness and do not like to lie in bed if the gas or a candle is not lighted in the room. Some of you are brave and do not mind this, others are timid and so are afraid. But those of you, who feel so, need do so no longer, if you will think a little about one of the beautiful Bible verses which I have just read to you-"The Lamb is the light thereof." People are afraid, and children too, of two very different kinds of things-things which they have reason to dread, because they have themselves felt or they have seen some one else feel pain from them, such as a severe fall, a burn, or a cruel blow, or an unkind word. The other dread is of things which we do not know anything about, and therefore we think they are much more dreadful than is really the case. This is why some of you dread darkness. The darkness has never done you any harm, it has not and it cannot hurt you—you are only afraid of it because you know nothing about it. You have been told that the world turns round once in twenty-four hours, so each part of it gets its own share of sunshine; when we are having daylight, the other side is having night; because, of course, that side is away from the sun. And what a dreadful thing it would be if we had no night! we should get too tired, and so would the flowers, and everything in nature; and plants, animals, and children, all need sleep. So the nice cool darkness comes, and we, all tired out, give over working and go to sleep, and while we are asleep God watches over us and makes us strong again. As it were He mends us then. You will wake in the morning, and remember now, will you not, that Jesus, who is called the Lamb of God because He is so gentle and so good, has been watching over you all through the long night, and you will say to yourself, "the Lamb is the light thereof." Some persons are always in darknessthe blind, and yet you generally see a sweet smile on their lips. Why is this? Because God gives them quick smell and touch, and a love for music, and many other pleasant things, and Christ pities them and gives them cheerful spirits-so even to the blind "the Lamb is the light thereof;" and many of them are happy co, thinking of that beautiful land where there will be no darkness of any kind, for no one will be tired or blind, and where-walking through the golden streets and following the Good Shepherd by the living waters under the waving trees-they too will see that light brighter than the sunshine which they can only feel here as it warms their faces. A poor blind woman used to wander many years ago about the London streets and sing "The loss of sight is much, The loss of life is more, Ah! it is worse than the darkest night when we lose the Holy Spirit of God out of our hearts. That is less like sleep than like death, which is a sleep out of which no one wakes. And yet as I write this I think of an old church where the Fairfaxes, whom you read about in your English History, are buried. There is one strange monument; there is cut on a tablet a burning torch, and round the torch is written a Latin verse, which is a play upon the name of Fairfax, but this is the translation, "The Lord shall light my A candle. The Lord my God shall make my darkness to be light." That old soldier knew well, you see, that death, his darkness, would not last for ever; for as the Lord had made his dark heart bright, so the same Lord would one day raise his sleeping body and make it bright too; he knew that both for body and soul "the Lamb is the light thereof." little girl in a workhouse learnt this too; it is not more than a month ago since she went from the workhouse to live in a palace—the palace of the King of kings. She had no father or mother, but the mistress of the workhouse was very kind to her. The poor little girl lay there in the whitewashed room, and in the long nights was many an hour awake, but she was not frightened, for the Lord Jesus Christ she knew was the Lamb of God for her, and He was light to her. She bore the shaking cough and the dreadful weakness patiently for His sake. One day she was very weary indeed. The kind mistress came in with a nice cup of tea with cream in it, and sat down by the narrow bed. She thought the little girl's hair, which was twisted up, made her uncomfortable, and unloosed it, but that did not make her easy, so she gently said that beautiful hymn, "Safe in the arms of | Jesus," and the child grew still and listened. When it came to the last verse, in a faint little voice she finished it, saying— "Here let me wait with patience, Wait till the night is o'er, and then she said, "It is very dark," and turned her head on the pillow. But was it dark? Ah no! it was very light, for she was with Jesus in that beautiful home where the Lamb is the light thereof. Dear children, remember by day and by night, in sickness and in health, you cannot be alone, and so you need never be afraid, for He is by you and He makes everything bright. E. GARNETT. FOURTH EVENING. Opening Hymn: "Gracious Saviour, gentle Shepherd." Lesson: Mark xi. 1-11. Concluding Hymn: "The sun is sinking fast." You know what a different thing it is for a child to do what a father wants him to do because he is afraid that if he does not do it he will be punished, and to do it because it is a real pleasure to him to please his father. When a boy finds his father's pleasure the one thing he most desires, he is as happy as a boy can be, his heart is full of gladness, and the world around him is all at its brightest. If children could always live like that, they would always be happy. Let me tell you a beautiful story. In a little cottage amongst the mountains of Switzerland there lay upon his bed a sick man. He was dangerously ill, and had been so for many days. His wife was dead, and only two children lived with him. They were young boys, the eldest of them being under fourteen years old; but they were loving boys and tried to do all they could for their sick father. As well as they could, they tried to take their dead mother's place and nurse him well. But he got worse, and they learnt that he must soon die unless they could get him a particular medicine, which might possibly cure him. But it must be fetched from a distant town andthis was their great trouble - it would cost far more money than they possessed. Could they only get the money, they would soon set off to the distant town as fast as their legs could carry them. They cried because they were too poor to buy what would perhaps save their father's life. Oh, that they could get this money! Could they earn it? Perhaps they could if they both got work, and if they worked very VIII. N.S. hard; but even then it would take a long time, much longer than father could live; he would have died before then. What could they do? They were utterly miserable and 45 Now all of us are children of God, and Jesus came into the world to teach us to love God as those children loved their father. And how blissful, said Jesus, would it be for us if we loved God like that! If we did not want telling what to do, but wondered in our hearts what would please Him, and then could not help doing it. So Jesus tells us not so much what to do as what to be. He wants us to be children, upright in heart; that is, to do pure and true and noble things, and to do them because our hearts make us. The Bible has a splendid saying in it about such people. It says, "Light is sown for the righteous and gladness for the upright in heart." What, think you, were the bright thoughts which sprang up in the minds of these boys as they watched their father open the eyes which till then they had feared were sealed in death, and smile his old healthy smile again? What were those warm feelings swelling in their hearts as they heard his whole soul bless them for the loving kindness? Can you fancy these things? Well, they were like what all men feel when they have bravely done, and loved to do it, something that has been pleasing to God. "Light is sown for the righteous and gladness for the upright in heart." wretched, and that night cried themselves noble deed. What can not a loving heart to sleep. Now it happened that a traveller do! But this time the father's joy was not who was just then passing through their equal to the children's. His boys had inward village wanted a pair of young eagles and feelings of life and light and gladness which offered a large price for them, but no one were far too good for words to tell. was willing to get them for him, for the only place they could be got was high up on the face of a steep rock which it was difficult and dangerous if not impossible to climb. There, there was an eagle's nest, and in it, it was known, was a couple of eaglets. The boys heard of the traveller's offer and at once their spirits rose. If they could only get the birds and earn the money, then they would have enough for the medicine! It would be dangerous; but father was dying. They could bear to think of risking their own lives, but they could not bear the idea of the death of their father. They would try. Away they went to the eagle's crag, and up it, step by step, hand over hand, they climbed together, helping each other until, high up, the lesser boy got giddy and the path, such as it was, became too narrow for two to go along it. On struggled the elder brother, less weary, less fearful as he saw himself minute by minute nearer the coveted nest which was to earn the money to buy the medicine to make his father well. At last all the way was climbed. Every narrow ledge and steep ascent was passed and there before him was the joyful sight, the pair of eaglets; quickly he bound them together, and fastening them round his neck, he descended the rock with far more effort and difficulty, and more slowly, and perhaps with far more danger, than he had gone up. But the one thought was not difficulty nor danger, not even his slow progress, but only the traveller's money and his father's medicine. The bottom reached, the happy brothers, as though they had had no difficulty and were fresh from their night's rest, ran with light foot and lighter heart to the hotel where the traveller stayed. As they went, the men of the village stared at them as though they were something wonderful. And wonderful they were, as the heroes of a pure love always are. The men had not dared to scale the rock and take the nest, but here were two young boys, they had done it. . The boys reached the hotel, delivered up the birds, received the money, and swifter than they had come to it, the elder of them left the hotel for the distant town while the younger went home to attend to his father's wants. The medicine at length was procured, the sick father took it, began to recover, got well, and lived long to bless his brave, loving children and to be proud of their FIFTH EVENING. B. WAUGH. Opening Hymn: "What a strange and wondrous story." Lesson: Luke xv. 1-7. Concluding Hymn: "The sun is sinking fast." What do you think is the strongest thing in all the world? Perhaps you say a great rock-the Bible speaks of the "strength of the hills" or perhaps you will think of gunpowder as stronger still; for with gunpowder the rocks are blasted and broken into a thousand fragments. But though gunpowder is a fearfully strong thing, there is something stronger than gunpowder, and that something is steam. It is the very same kind of strength that you see lifting the lid of the kettle when it boils on your fire, which lifts the hills out of the valleys and sets their peaks high up in the clouds. All the mighty mountains were made into mountains by steam. Some mountains have a hole in the top, through which what is beneath them comes out. These are called volcanoes, and they show us that it is steam which lifts them up; just like the steam which comes out of the kettle. What a terribly strong thing then steam is so strong is it that if there were no holes in the volcanoes to let some of it out there is no saying what it might not do, perhaps it would burst the world. But there is a power stronger than steam, it is God, so the world and all of us in it are safe; for God is over all. back into port for the night thought some, but not so poor Lucy's father. The ship tossed and rolled and struggled through the storm. Malta was reached; but, to the moment, Malta was left again. Why this uncommon haste? thought the Malta workers as they put cargo on board. Why? It was those dreadful words, "Lucy's worse." The soldiers on the rock at Gibraltar and the But even man is stronger than steam. lighthouse-man on Point Finisterre, as the Steam moves engines, but man tells it when to ship passed them, wondered at the rate at go, and where to go; how slow and how fast. which it passed out of the range of their But there is something stronger than man, glasses. "She must have splendid engines," something which masters man just as man said one. But it was not the engines, nor masters steam; which tells him when to go the steam alone that made her glide so and where to go, how slow and how fast, and swiftly along, it was the fact that Lucy was makes him do it. That something is love. worse. Away, away, steamed the ship up What a wonderful thing love is! Let us the Channel, through the Dover Straits, see it at its work. There was a sea captain round the Nore Light, up the Thames, till in command of an English vessel lying at one London was seen, the port reached, and the of the quays in Alexandria, many many hun- ship moored. That moment the captain was dreds of miles away from his English home in gone. His long-tried heart could not wait a London. He had left in that home a wife and moment longer. Next day the papers anone child, a little invalid, named Lucy. One nounce the Wentworth, from Alexandria, as day when he was on the ship at Alexandria | having had bad weather, but having made they brought him a letter. It was a telegram the shortest voyage on record. They did from England. He opened it leisurely, think- not add the reason; had they done so it ing it was an ordinary message from his em- would have been a short sentence about a ployers at home. But soon his pale face told frail child-“ Lucy's worse." Yes, it was the that it was a message which had much dis- captain's love for his sick child that tressed him. This is what the telegram said: | hurried the sailors, hard-drove the engines, My dear, I think it right to tell you that forced on the ship, braved the storm, and Lucy's worse." The man was miserable. At ploughed the thousands of miles of sea once, all was bustle and scuffle on board; all quicker than ever ship had ploughed them hands got orders which made them work their before. So you see how that captain's loving hardest. As the ship was already past her time | heart was stronger than the steam, and to start, the sorrowful father gave orders to mastered the steam, and made it his slave. "clear away.” Goods not on board were left. But was there not something stronger than Passengers not on board heard the sudden that captain's heart. Oh yes, for if his sharp ring of the bell, and flew to their heart was stronger than the steam because places. Hurried farewells were spoken by it mastered the steam and made it do what parting friends. Officers, sailors-all rushed it wished, there was some power stronger from duty to duty amazed at the pace of than his heart, because it mastered that their captain's commands; and, in a time heart. And what was that power? You know which seemed incredibly short, the ship was what it was; it was that fragile little child, loosed from her mooring, out of the harbour, Lucy. The words "Lucy's worse” had and at their greatest speed the mighty engines done it all. Yes, Lucy mastered the brave drove her away to sea. Engineer, helms- captain's heart. So I think the strongest man, cabin-boy, all wondered what had power in all the world is a fragile child. happened. What What could be the matter! And the Bible tells us that "God is love," They did not know that into their captain's and that each of us is God's child, and God's heart had entered those dreadful words, fragile child. He loves the strong and gleeful "Lucy's worse.” Oh, that it had been any angels, but He reserves His tenderest love, one else than his poor, frail Lucy. She might His most pitiful care for the frail child on die before he reached home! He rushed to earth. "He knoweth our frame, He rememhis cabin and cried as though his heart would bereth that we are dust." And for love of break. The wind arose and the waves rolled us He manages all His world, as Lucy's mountains high, but amid the storm he kept father, for love of Lucy, managed his ship. |