In entering a new house of the modern order it takes time to get acquainted with all its pipes for water and gas and sewage, and all its arrangements for working bells and bolts and ventilators. One is apt to be alarmed at the flow of water in a direction which is perfectly correct, and to be in
trepidation because gas will not turn off where it was never meant to do so.
Many of the fears and tremblings of new beginners in the divine life spring from a similar cause. Everything is new to them; emotions and desires which are perfectly natural to their young life are quite surprising to them, and though calculated to give confidence to the instructed they arouse suspicions in new beginners. They don’t know the working of spiritual apparatus yet, and are confused and confounded by the simplest inward movements. They had better not be in too great a hurry to condemn
themselves, but wait till they are more at home in the heavenly life, which is all plain to him that understandeth and safe to him that trusteth in the Lord.
C. H. S.
A JOURNEY TO MENTONE WITH MR.
SPURGEON
BY JOSEPH W, HARRALD (CONCLUDED)
JANUARY 12. — This morning three of our company took advantage of the continued bright weather (our diary notes that we have now had forty fine days in succession) to ascend to Castellare, a little city set on a hill. On our way up we passed Villa Mount Carmel, but saw neither the prophet Elijah nor any cloud even as large as a man’s hand. As we came in sight of the mountains that shut in Mentone on the north, we noticed that wherever there was a little spot unreached by the rays of the sun the snow that fell several weeks ago remained unmelted. So, thought we, is it with hearts unwarmed by the Sun of Righteousness, they continue cold, hard, and dead. — During our climb this morning we saw and heard more birds than we had done before since we left home. The merciless or mercenary
sportsmen apparently cannot endure the sight or song of the sweet little creatures that are the charm of our English woodlands and forests. A writer who has spent several winters in the Riviera says: — “The poor little birds have a bad time of it in the South of France. Many a day have I felt grieved, when walking through the market, held until 11 a.m. in the town, at seeing robin-redbreasts, linnets, doves, pigeons, blackbirds, and thrushes all lying mingled with snipes, woodcocks, and pheasants, on the stalls.”
The only hope of their being preserved from extermination lies in their withdrawal to higher regions, and more secluded groves than those frequented by the man with the gun. This was the plan that the Lord adopted for himself, and recommended to his disciples when persecutors sought to destroy them. When the people of Nazareth would have cast him down headlong from the hill on which their city was built, he passed through the midst of them and went to Capernaum to do there the mighty works which he could not perform in his own country. Some of the early Christians would have been wiser if they had remembered the words of the Lord Jesus, “When they persecute you in this city, flee ye to another”; for some of them seem to have been so anxious to be enrolled in the noble army of martyrs that they did not exercise common prudence, and in certain instances went out of their way to court persecution. There are times when it is necessary for a Christian to stand like the brave, with his face to the foe, determined to die rather than fly: but it is well for him to recollect that it is one thing for him to be cast into the den of lions as Daniel was, and quite another to hunt up the old roaring lion or one of the lesser beasts of prey, and imitate the performer at the menagerie by putting his head inside the animal’s jaws. Being sent forth as sheep in the midst of wolves we are to be “wise as serpents” as well as “harmless as doves.”
Jan. 13. — The weather to-day was illustrative of a frequent experience of the Lord’s people, for while a hot sun shone brightly overhead a piercingly keen wind was blowing all around us. How often do believers who are basking in the light of God’s countenance feel at the same moment the cutting blast of affliction or adversity, temptation or persecution! — In the afternoon we visited the quaint little town of Roquebrune, which,
according to the local legend, was built on the top of the hill which now forms its most efficient rear-guard. but slipped down one night in a huge solid mass, the houses, churches, castle, gardens, and everything on “the brown rock” remaining intact, only some hundreds of feet lower down in the world. Like most other legends this needs to be taken with a good
many grains of salt. — Over the door of one of the houses we observed a rough painting of the Virgin Mary with a serpent writhing under her heel, the substitution of the mother of Jesus for her divine Son and Lord being the result of the Romish version of Genesis 3:15, “She shall bruise thy head,” a version which, we are sorry to be informed, has long had the great weight of the British and Foreign Bible Society’s support in many Popish countries. We trust that this venerable society will yet see its way to refuse help to all but the purest versions. Why not?
Jan. 14. — While waiting for friends outside Dr. Bennet’s garden this morning we picked up some crystals of peculiarly fine formation. One of them especially we wished to take home, but feared it would be too heavy;
so Mr. Spurgeon suggested that we should weigh it in the scales which we had at the hotel, to see whether such an addition to our luggage would be permitted without extra charge. As these scales were only intended for letters not exceeding an ounce, and the stone weighed several pounds, they were of no use. This simple illustration reminded us that it is impossible to weigh infinity in our tiny thought-scales; it can only be done by him who hath “weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance,” whose
“understanding is infinite.”
Jan. 15. — Taking advantage of another “morning without clouds,” we drove to the little principality of Monaco, “the rock of joy,” name sadly suggestive to many of the joy they have lost through visiting the gaming- tables, which enable the Grimaldi princeling to take rank side by side with the millionaires and monarchs of Europe. When we reached the plateau before the prince’s palace, we found that the mistral was blowing so fiercely that we were glad at once to return to a calmer and purer region.
— On our way back, we noticed some terraces that, through neglect, were falling down, and so not only destroying the vines and fig-trees planted upon them, but also endangering the terraces above, which leaned for support upon them. It is thus, too, in the moral world; the effects of evil are cumulative. He who neglects salvation ruins others as well as himself.
Parents often inflict irreparable injury upon their children, as well as upon themselves, by their indifference or opposition to religion. Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, not only did evil in the sight of the Lord, but he also made Israel to sin by the idolatrous example which he set both for his subjects and his successors.
Jan. 17. — Walking through the town this morning, we were deeply affected by the sight of the burden on the head of a poor Mentonese woman. She had been out gathering fuel for her fire, and was returning home bearing a bundle of withered vine branches. As we looked upon them we were reminded of our Savior’s solemn words,” and men gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned;” and we prayed,
“Lord, cause us to abide in thee, and do thou abide in us; so shall we bring forth much fruit, and glorify the Father who is in heaven, and thus shall all men know that we are living branches, vitally united to the true Vine.”
Graceless professors, like fruitless vine-branches, are good for nothing but to be burned.
Jan. 19. — Yesterday a fine breeze sprang up, and soon the paths of the sea seemed crowded with ships, though for several days previous not a sail had appeared upon the unruffled waters. This afternoon, however, dark clouds overspread the sky, and the wind became so boisterous that quite a little fleet of vessels ran for shelter to Mentone. Thus do sinners, when conscious of their danger, seek to enter the harbour of refuge for souls in distress. So long as all is fair or calm, they have no thought of fleeing to Christ; and some do not seek a shelter until the storm of divine wrath breaks upon them, and they find that they have waited until it is too late for them to escape. Others beside the Jews have realized the meaning of the Savior’s terrible prophecy, “Ye shall seek me, and shall die in your sins.” It will be in vain to look for a hiding-place when the thunders of the day of judgment burst upon the guilty and unbelieving. — Some days elapsed before the ships above-mentioned were able to put to sea again, and their enforced idleness taught us that sometimes the truest progress will be secured by the observance of needful rest. If the vessels had left the harbour while the wind was unfavourable, they would have test time, and they might have been driven on the rocks, or sunk in the depths of the sea;
and Christian workers and warriors will often gain more by standing still to see the salvation of the Lord than by starting on an enterprise when
circumstances are inauspicious. When temptation is howling around us, like a raging storm, our safety will consist in lying within the harbour of refuge, trusting to our anchor to preserve us from drifting into danger.
Occasionally the sailor must go to sea in the teeth of the tempest; and there are times when the child of God must dash forward in spite of all
opposition, or he will be counted unworthy of the name he bears. Doing
this, he shall have the special presence of his Lord, and extraordinary grace shall be given to supply his unusual need while he sings-
“Fearless of hell and ghastly death, I’d break through every foe;
The wings of love, and arms of faith, Should bear me conqueror through.”
Jan· 21. — To-day our quiet retreat was disturbed by the noise of the young men who had been chosen by the conscription for military service.
They marched or drove about the town, beating drums, waving flags, and singing and shouting as though they were returning from victory, forgetting the old soldier’s caution, “Let not him that girdeth on his harness boast himself as he that putteth it off.” After all, they had not much cause for glorying, for they had only attained to the dignity of becoming possible targets for an enemy’s bullets, or of being themselves participators in the wholesale slaughter of their fellow-creatures. Had we been liable to the conscription, we should have rejoiced if the lot had not fallen upon us: our happiness would have consisted in our being preserved from apprenticeship to “the gunpowder and glory business”; but the Mentonese conscripts were of another mind, they were even proud of the bonds with which they were bound, like those who are led captive by the devil at his will, who glory in their shame·
Jan. 27. — The finest day during our stay in the sunny south was spent in driving to Castiglione, the mountain city of which we had a distant view from the top of Castellare. The ascent was so circuitous that at one time we could count no less than eight different roads, over which we had traveled· As we saw the zigzag track by which we had reached the far- away town, we had a faint idea of the feeling we shall have when we arrive at the celestial city among the everlasting hills, and, looking back upon the devious windings and twistings of our pilgrim path, exclaim, “He hath led us by the right way to the city of habitation.” — The higher we ascended the purer and stronger did the air become; and, in the same way, the nearer we are to the summit of the mount of communion with God the sweeter and clearer is the atmosphere in which we walk. — From the wall of the old town we had a magnificent view of the snow-clad mountains of the Maritime Alps.
Jan. 30. — This evening a telegram arrived from the deacons asking Mr.
Spurgeon to delay his return for another week, as the weather was so
dreadfully bad in England. Most providentially the Pastor was induced to consent to this proposal, for the last week in Mentone was a season of unbroken sunshine, while in our island home it proved to be the worst and last of the long winter, so that when we did come back there was little or no risk of another relapse. The change was so remarkable that we could only bless the Lord for so graciously caring for his servant, and bringing him once more to his loved work under such happy auspices·
Jan. 31. — To-day we drove through Ventimiglia, and some distance up the valley of the river Roya, to view the wonderful rocks that rise, like a colossal fortress, some hundreds of feet above the level of the sea. The road had been so much mended that it was exceedingly difficult to travel over it, and reminded us of the way that the “modern thought” gentlemen have cut up the gospel track until it is scarcely possible for any poor sinner to travel over it to reach “the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.” — While walking along the side of a little stream we discovered maiden-hair ferns and violets growing in rich profusion, although it was the last day of January. The violets betrayed their presence by their sweet perfume, just as Christians should make themselves known by the fragrance of their graces, and by their resemblance to the fairest flower in all the universe, the Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the valleys. — Before we returned we went to inspect the village church. For some time we could not find an entrance, until, passing round to the back of the building, we saw a key hanging upon the door, and thus obtained admittance. We thought at once of Bunyan’s key of promise, which is as effectual for opening the gate of mercy as it was for unlocking the door of Doubting Castle. On coming away we hung up the key, so that those who came after us might find it, and let themselves in as we had done. This little church, so easily accessible to all who wished to enter, seemed to be an emblem of the Savior, and brought to our mind Dr. Bonar’s hymn commencing —
“I heard the voice of Jesus say,
‘Come unto me and rest.’“
Sunday, Feb. 1. — This afternoon Mr. Spurgeon preached in the French Protestant Church to an audience almost as mixed in nationality as that which the apostles addressed on the day of Pentecost. In the evening we had a short service at the hotel, for the purpose of bidding farewell to our friends who had to leave for England on the morrow. We had hoped to
have accompanied them, but under all the circumstances we were well content to wait a little longer ere we took our long journey.
Feb. 4. — While we were sweltering in the heat the news came from home that our dear ones there were pinched with frost and enveloped in fog. We could sympathize with them, for in days gone by we had experienced the inconvenience and discomfort; but the Mentonese could understand very little of what our friends were enduring, for their sunny shores are seldom visited by fogs and frosts. Just so, Christians cannot sympathize with their fellow-believers in their trials and temptations unless they have themselves felt the same. This is the glory of our sympathizing Lord that “in all things it be-bored him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people. For in that he himself hath suffered being tempted, he is able to succor them that are tempted.” — We were amused at some of the newspaper notices and letters concerning the fog.
One correspondent suggested that people should light their lamps in the day-time, and leave their blinds up, so that the poor wayfarers in the streets might not be altogether lost. This would be a new and very useful way of letting our light shine before men; perhaps some people will try it when the fogs come on again. — Some one described an incident which we
commend to the notice of all Christians who think their talents and opportunities are so small that they cannot do anything for Jesus. A gentleman was standing close to Hyde Park afraid to venture across it to his usual place of business, and asked aloud if anyone could lead him to the spot to which he wanted to go. “Oh, yes,” said a blind man, “I can, and I shall be pleased to do it. The fog makes no difference to me, I can see as well to-day as when all is bright and clear; come along with me, and I will take you across in safety.” If a blind man can lead one who can see, surely there is not one child of God too weak to be of service to others who just need the help be can give.
Feb. 5. — Dr. Bennet gave us this morning a good illustration of the need of a pilot to those who are sailing over life’s stormy sea, hoping to reach the port of eternal glory. During the Crimean war a French troop-ship sailed from Toulon with twelve hundred men on board, but without a pilot.
In trying to pass through the Straits of Bonifacio the vessel ran aground, but not a life was lost. There are strong currents running in these straits, and at various points the wind at times sweeps down- with great force, and unless the captain knows the track very well, or has a pilot who can tell