Sunshine in the Heart

Dear friend, whether you die as soon as you are born again, or remain on earth for many years, is comparatively a small matter, and will not materially alter your indebtedness to divine grace. In the one case the great Husbandman will show how He can bring His flowers speedily to perfection; and in the other He will prove how He can preserve them in blooming beauty, despite the frosts and snows of earth’s cruel winter: in either case your experience will reveal the same love and power. — C. H. Spurgeon.

ABUNDANT evidence has been given to assure the founder and patrons of the Orphanage that the aim ever in view, viz., the spiritual good of the children, is being constantly realized. The little ones who have been removed by death have died in the Lord. Mr. Charlesworth, the head master, tells the following pathetic story concerning one of “these little ones “: —

During the history of the Orphanage we have received a number of children to whom has been bequeathed a heritage of disease. In many cases, we are thankful to say, delicate boys, of whom at first we stood in doubt, have become strong and healthy youths. God has been very gracious in blessing the ministrations of doctors and nurses to the complete renovation of constitutions enfeebled by disease, neglect, or want. Our death-rate has been very small considering the large proportion of children whose parents died of pulmonary disease and other hereditary complaints. Only thirteen out of five hundred and sixty-seven have been removed by death during their term, and of these one died in a fit within a few hours of his admission, and another of scarlet fever while away for a holiday. With the exception of one boy, who died of scarlet fever, all the rest fell victims to inherited disease.

With devout gratitude to our Heavenly Father we record the pleasing fact that all who have died in the institution not only gave evidence of conversion, but experienced the rapture of saints who are fully assured of their personal interest in the Saviour and of their eternal home In the house of many mansions. In the little books entitled “Love Jesus and Live for Heaven” and “Little Dicky” we have endeavored to describe the dying experiences of two of the boys, and now it has fallen to our lot to write of another who has only just fallen asleep. The realities thus described may seem to some to belong to the realm of fiction; but we ask to be believed when we affirm that we have not exaggerated, nor even colored, a single expression.

Ernest Edgar Bray, the last of the number called to the fold above, came to us after he had lost both parents. He was a simple-minded, affectionate boy, but for several years he was possessed of very little moral consciousness. His conduct at times was a severe strain upon the patience of his matron and teachers, and on several occasions he brought himself into disgrace by his folly and sin. We mention this at the outset to show that he had no natural bias towards goodness, and that his Christian character was not due to the development of inherited virtues. The child-piety of the theorists is a quality we have never met with during a long experience; but the piety which springs from a regenerated nature is a beautiful adornment we have often witnessed. In every such case the character and conduct after conversion formed a striking contrast to all that had gone before. The change was so radical, that the second phase of experience seemed to belong to another individual. “From darkness to light” indicates the change of which a new-born soul is conscious; “from the kingdom of Satan into the kingdom of God’s dear Son” suggests the altered relationship into which a “child of God” enters. The change is not a development, but a translation. If it be claimed by some that the artless simplicity of childhood carries with it the germs of a Christian character, and that children ought to grow up, under proper nurture, and “never know themselves as other than Christian,” we challenge the theory by demanding an illustration. If a case in point be adduced, we shall then claim the liberty to withhold our assent unless we can be certified that no radical change has ever been effected by the grace of God. We believe it to be contrary to the testimony of the Word of God and to the uniform experience of Christians for the twilight of natural virtues to expand into the full radiance of Christian purity and joy. The divine life in the soul is a heavenly exctic, and sanctification is the result of the Spirit’s operation. “Not of works, lest any man should boast,” is an inspired dictum, which receives unqualified indorsement from all who belong to the “new creation.”

In the case of Ernest Bray, the change in his character was so apparent that no one could question the fact of the divine agency by which it was wrought. It is true, the precise moment of the change cannot be determined, nor can we indicate the special circumstance which culminated in his conversion. From the time of his admission to the Orphanage he was the object of Christian solicitude and prayer, and the subject of Christian instruction and training. Twice every day all the boys assemble for family worship, when a text is repeated from memory, the Word of God read and expounded, addresses delivered, and prayer offered. On Wednesday evening a special ser’ice is held, the salvation of the boys being the supreme aim of the friends who conduct it; and on Sundays the following plan is adopted: In the morning one detachment is sent to the Tabernacle, another to Wlnne Road Baptist Chapel, and a special service is held at home for the remainder. In the afternoon a Sunday-school is held, the boys beincr taucrht in classes b’ friends interested in the institution. In the evening a separate service is arranged for the elder boys, the younger ones spending the time with their matrons in their respective houses. During the week also all the members of the staff “watch for their souls as those who must give an account,” and the Bible is a text-book in all the classes of the school. In all these arrangements human instrumentality is consecrated to the work of soul-winning and Christian nurture, and our Heavenly Father is graciously pleased to bless all the means employed, so that ‘’ he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together.” Of one thing we are fully assured, that however numerous and distinct the agencies, “God giveth the increase.” To Him, therefore, be all the glory.

In the latter half of the year 1879 it became evident that Bray would not survive the winter, his lungs betraying deep-seated disease. He was very reluctant to enter the infirmary, and bravely tried, as consumptives usually do, to conceal his worst fears respecting himself. For some time after his admission the buoyancy of a child’s hope threw the thought of death into the shade, but at length the conviction gained strength that his end was not far distant. The loving ministry of his constant attendant became more and more welcome, and as his hope of salvationdeepened into a settled conviction, and the “peace of God “shed a holy calm over his spirit, he conversed freely of the preciousness of Jesus and the prospect of being ‘’ for ever with the Lord.” His face soon betrayed the secret of his soul’s experience, revealing, as in a mirror, the tranquillity of peace and the ecstasy of joy. He said to one of his playmates, who came to see him on his return from the Christmas holidays: “Do you see any difference in my face?” ‘’Yes,” he replied; ‘’it is thinner.” “Oh,” he replied, “that is not what I mean! Don’t you see it looks more shining?” “Beholding, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord,” he was being changed into the same image, and he was conscious of the transformation. He often remarked, “I have sunshine to the bottom of my heart.” One morning he was singing very softly to himself, and one of the boys remarked: “I know why you feel happy just now; it is because the sun is shining!” Bray replied: “It’s not that; it is something inside! Jesus!” On another occasion he said: “I do love to talk about Jesus; it makes me so happy. I did not begin to love Jesus until I came into the infirmary. I have loved Him ever since, but not half so much as I do now. The Lord makes me happy all day and all night. I don’t mind the long nights as I did, because Jesus is near me.” “I want to sing,” he remarked to a loving friend who was visiting him, “but I can’t!” She said: “Well, you will raise a loud note when you enter heaven, won’t you?” He replied: “Ah, I shall sing there! I sing fiow, inside; but I shall sing ou loud then, and wait and watch for you to come!”

Much of his time was spent in prayer. Entering the room one morning, the nurse heard him say:” So happy! so happy! Oh, Lord, may this be a glorious day! Let me praise Thee! Bless all the boys! May they love Jesus! Forgive all my sins for

Infirmary — Stockwell Orphanage.

Thy Son’s sake! “Not a day passed, as he heard the boys at play, without a prayer for their conversion, and as he lay awake with pain during the long hours of the night his heart went forth in earnest supplication that God would bless and save his companions. He said to the nurse who was with him: “I do want to do something for Jesus. Oh, I know! I will try to write to my brother. I do want him to love the Lord!” He then wrote the following letter: —

Dear Brother, — I have much pleasure in writing these few lines to tell yOu how the Lord has made me so happ)’. I used to think I loved and trusted the Lord enough, but something made me feel I must love Him more. If I was strong, oh, how I would work for Jesus! I hope and trust this letter may be the means of making you happy in the Lord. Tell aunt how very happy I am. Good bye, trusting we both shall meet in heaven.

Your loving brother,

.Ernest Brav.

Added to his prayerfulness and anxiety for others, his patience in enduring pain was another evidence of his thorough conversion. As he lay, week after week, with declining strength, so that the weight of his bed-clothes became at length a burden, and he was unable to shift his position without assistance, not a murmur escaped his lips. Any little service rendered by his loving attendants evoked a cheerful smile or a grateful “Thank you! God bless you! “How much is true piety seen in these little things! They may not strike the reader, but those who actually see the gracious patience and gratitude know how to appreciate them. He said to Miss A., one of the teachers, a few days before his departure: “I have been so worried this morning; Satan came to me and said: ‘What’s the use o( j’ou trusting?’ but God gave me the victory over him, and I am happy now.” She then quoted the lines, —

“Sin, my worst enemy before,

Shall vex my eyes and ears no more;
My inward foes shall all be slain,
Nor Satan break my peace again:”

and the thought of his final and complete triumph over sin and Satan cast a flush of victory over his face. *’ He then thanked me

SO gratefully,” this friend writes, ‘’and, putting his thin arms round me, kissing me many times, he said: ‘Oh, I do love Jesus and you! You are all such kind friends to me, and I feel Mr. Charlesworth is a father to me. But do pray for me that I may go soon.’” He added to the same friend: “I wish I had strength to do something for nurse; she has done so much for me.” With what little strength he could command he tried to sing a simple impromptu couplet, after the manner of the Jubilee Singers, —

“Oh, come along with me to Jesus;
Oh, nurse, come along!”

Mrs. C. said to him, as she sat by his bedside: “You will soon be home.” Putting his thin hand on her face, he exclaimed: *’ Oh, Mrs. C, I do hope I shall, — I am ready; “and then he added: “I will give you another smile.” Before she left she kissed him, and said: “If we find you gone we shall not sorrow; it will be your gain.” He very sweetly replied: “I should be sorry for you to sorrow; I shall be free from pain; safe at home.” So certain was his conviction that he would soon be home that he said one day: ‘’I should like a sandwich, and then I don’t want anything more on this earth.”

There is a charm about the sweet simplicity of faith and hope which makes the religion of childhood a type of piety worthy of imitation. With all the eloquence of pathos Jesus took a little child and said, as He placed him in the midst of the bystanders, who had conceived a very different ideal: “Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the. kingdom of heaven.” When the sterner virtues of manhood are toned by the feminine graces of childhood the perfection of Christian character is attained.

While Mr. Spurgeon was in Mentone, Bray was very anxious to write and tell him how happy he was in Jesus. The following was the letter he sent: —

Infirmary, Stockwell Orphanage.

Dear Mr. Spurgeon, — As Dr. Wylie said he was going to

Mentone, I thought I should like to send you a few lines. The

last time you saw me you thought I should soon be in heaven,

and you asked the Lord if you could soon be there too, but the

Lord has spared us both; and may the Lord soon bring you back

again to serve and praise Him. I can’t do much for Jesus, but I

am trying to bear patiently all I have to suffer. I am still in bed,

and I feel I can’t write any more.

From one of your orphan boys,

E. Bray.

To which Mr. Spurgeon replied: —

Mentone, February 5.

Dear Brav, — I was so pleased with your little note. It was so good of you, with all your pain, to sit up and write to me. I hope when the spring weather comes you will feel better, but if not, you know of the sweet fields beyond the swelling flood “which “stand dressed in living green.” The Lord Jesus will be very near you. He feels for dear suffering children. He will keep you patient and joyful. Oh, how He loves! If there is anything you want, be sure to let me know.

Your loving friend,

C. H. Spurgeon.

On the pastor’s return he came to see him, and the visit seemed to yield an equal pleasure to each. The dear boy was full of gratitude to his kind friend and benefactor, and expressed himself with touching simplicity and clearness as to his faith and hope and joy. He talked with all the freedom of a veteran believer whose long experience of the goodness and faithfulness of God had made doubt impossible and faith a natural impulse. Calling the nurse to his side. Bray requested her to give him his purse, and taking out four shillings which he had saved, he asked Mr. Spurgeon to accept it for the Girls’ Orphanage. Such an expression of gratitude was very welcome to the pastor’s heart, and, we doubt not, the offering was acceptable to ‘’ The Father of the fatherless,” whose smile has always rested upon the institution. We suggested that a portion of one of the new houses should be built with the money, and be called “Bray’s bricks,” as an appropriate memorial of ‘’ a folded lamb.”

In the course of the interview he said to Mr. Spurgeon: ‘* Do

you remember I once came to your house with another boy, and

you asked us if we could eat a piece of plum-cake?” It is not surprising the pastor confessed he had forgotten this special instance of kindness, and after admitting the fact, he said to him, “And can you eat a piece of plum-cake now? “We shall not soon forget how the child’s eyes brightened as he replied, “Yes; but only a piece of yours!’ It is scarcely necessary to add that a cake was promised, and that the following morning it was duly forwarded, Mr. Spurgeon sending at the same time some crystallized violets and rose-leaves from Mentone, A very touching prayer from the pastor closed the interview, and kissing the little sufferer, he promised to carry a request to the prayer-meeting, and ask the elders to join in prayer for the conversion of all the boys. The message was duly delivered, and the assembly engaged in prayer in response to the expressed wish of the little sufferer. The following Monday he sent a piece of the cake to the elders, with the message:” Tell them I want them all to pray for me to-night, that I may soon go home. Ask Mr. Spurgeon to pray for me too; and ask him to pray for all the other boys in the Orphanage, that they may meet me in heaven.” And then he added, ‘’ Oh, I do long to go home! “Poor dear boy, the weariness and languor which come from the wasting of disease and long wakefulness intensified his longing for “the rest that remaineth.” Nor was it the craving for rest merely which directed his soul heavenward; he said to Mr. Bartlett, who visited him on several occasions: How good of God to bless me, a poor weak boy! Oh, how happy it makes me! I long now to be with Jesus, and I hope He will soon take me, for / want to see His face! “The highest aspiration of an advanced saint never reached beyond this — to find the fulness of heaven’s bliss in the vision of the face of Jesus. On the eve of his departure his soul went out in the prayer:” Dear Lord, do come soon! Jesus, come quickly! Take me! “With a peculiar emphasis he seemed to read the text: ‘’When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up!” During the last night of his sojourn here, the hours wore wearily away, and the twilight of the early morn had scarcely chased the lingering shadows from the landscape, when it became evident that another and a brighter day was dawning, which would never be succeeded by night.

The friend who had watched him during the first part of his illness, and whose loving ministry had been greatly blessed to him, was early at his bedside. The first request he proffered was,

“Don’t leave. Miss M! I can’t live through the day!” He

meant he could not live here; he well knew that life in its fulness awaited him in the bright awakening beyond. When his posture was changed to afford him temporary ease, he lay in silence for a few seconds, and then repeated the consoling message which had reached his spirit as by an angel’s whisper: ‘’My lamb, it’s nearly over.” Oh, the infinite tenderness which that message breathes! Jesus was very near, and the mantle of His dear love was thrown around the sufferer, enfolding him as in an armor of triple steel, to ensure immunity from the darts of the enemy. All heaven stood revealed to his enraptured gaze, and the ward of the Orphanage Infirmary proved again the vestibule of the eternal home. ‘* There

He is, Miss M I There ’s Jesus! and Cockerton! and Dicky!”

was his rapturous exclamation as “things seen and temporal”

were fading from his vision.” Can’t you seem Him, Miss M?

Oh, look, they ‘re all around my bed! “It seemed impossible to him that the eyes of the watchers by his bed could be closed against the glories of such a transfiguration scene. He wanted all about his bed to enjoy the blessedness of the beatific vision, and they, too, shared the same desire. Though the lips did not give it expression, each heart breathed the prayer:” Let my last end be like his.” With the sting of death gone, the terror of the grave vanished, heaven open, Jesus near, and angels waiting, no wonder he exclaimed, with almost his last breath: “Happy! happy! happy! “In a few minutes all was over, and another trophy of grace had joined the company of the redeemed in heaven. As the spring sun shone forth just then, cheering with his bright rays the world which during the winter had been enveloped in fog, nature seemed to say to us: Life’s winter months are over now, and the everlasting spring has come; the night of weeping is ended, and the morning of joy has dawned. To the vision of our faith the pathway to heaven stood revealed, and in the ecstasy of the moment we could hear the sweet echoes of the greeting in the world beyond, — “Come in, thou blessed, sit by Me; With My own life I ransomed thee;

Enjoy My perfect favor:
Come in, thou ransomed spirit, come,
Thou now must dwell with Me at home;
Ye blissful mansions, make him room,

For he must stay forever.”

In his interesting and remarkable book, entitled “Sunlight and Shadow; or, Gleanings from my Lifework,” * Mr. Gough thus describes a day he spent with Mr. Spurgeon: —

I would like to give you one incident to illustrate the man in his greatness and simplicity. He wished me to visit his Boys’ Orphanage at Stockwell. I could go only on Saturday, and his note to me was characteristic:

“Beloved friend, — Although I never go out on Saturdays, my horses, being under the law and not under grace, keep the seventh-day Sabbath, yet we will arrange to visit,” etc.

A beautiful day it was, for London, as we rode together, chatting all the way. The history of the Orphanage is intensely interesting. The commencement was a sum of one hundred thousand dollars to Mr. Spurgeon, from a lady, to commence an orphanage for fatherless boys. All the money that has been expended has been raised by voluntary contributions, and the one hundred thousand dollars is invested as an endowment.

When we entered the grounds, the boys set up a shout of joy at the sight of their benefactor.

I asked, “What are the requirements for admission?”

He said, “Utter destitution. Nothing denominational. We have more of the Church of England than of the Baptists. We have Roman Catholics, Presbyterians, Methodists, — all sorts.”

After the boys had gone through their gymnastic exercises and military drill, I spoke a few words to them. Mr. Spurgeon was like a great boy among boys.

He said, “There are two hundred and forty boys, — only think! How many pence are there in a shilling?”

* Hartford: A. D. Worthington & Co.

“Twelve.”

“Right. How many shillings in a pound?”

“Twenty.”

“Right. Twelve times twenty, how many?”

“Two hundred and forty.”

“That’s a penny apiece each boy.”

BOYS’ PLAYGROUND,
Stockwell Orphanage.

“Here, Mr. Charlesworth,” handing him a sovereign, “give these boys a penny apiece,” when a shrill, hearty hurrah was given as Mr. Spurgeon turned away with a laugh of keen enjoyment.

‘’Will you go to the infirmary? We have an infirmary and quarantine; for sometimes the poor creatures we take in need a good deal of purifying. We have one boy very ill with consumption; he cannot live, and I wish to see him, for he would be disappointed if he knew I had been here and had not seen him.”

We went into the cool and sweet chamber, and there lay the boy. He was very much excited when he saw Mr. Spurgeon. The great preacher sat by his side, and I cannot describe the scene. Holding the boy’s hand in his, he said:

“Well, my dear, you have some precious promises In sight all round the room. Now, dear, you are going to die, and you are very tired lying here, and soon will be free from all pain, and you will rest. Nurse, did he rest last night?”

“He coughed very much.”

“Ah, my dear boy, it seems very hard for you to lie here all day in pain, and cough at night. Do you love Jesus?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus loves you. He bought you with His precious blood, and He knows what is best for you. It seems hard for you to lie here and listen to the shouts of the healthy boys outside at play. But soon Jesus will take you home, and then He will tell you the reason, and you will be so glad.”

Then, laying his hand on the boy, without the formality of kneeling, he said: “O Jesus, Master, this dear child is reaching out his thin hand to find Thine. Touch him, dear Saviour, with Thy loving, warm clasp. Lift him as he passes the cold river, that his feet be not chilled by the water of death; take him home in Thine own good time. Comfort and cherish him till that good time comes. Show him Thyself as he lies here, and let him see Thee, and know Thee more and more as his loving Saviour.”

After a moment’s pause, he said, “Now, dear, is there anything you would like? Would you like a little canary in a cage, to hear him sing in the morning? Nurse, see that he has a canary to-morrow morning. Good-bye, my dear; you will see the Saviour, perhaps before I shall.”

I have seen Mr. Spurgeon hold by his power sixty-five hundred persons in a breathless interest; I knew him as a great man universally esteemed and beloved; but as he sat by the bedside of a dying pauper child, whom his beneficence had rescued, he was to me a greater and grander man than when swaying the mighty multitude at his will.

The Stockwell Orphanage receives fatherless boys and girls between the ages of six and ten. It is supported by voluntary contributions and by the revenue from the capital fund, which yields less than one-fourth of the income required. It is conducted on the Cottage System: each home is presided over by a godly matron. It is unsectarian: children are received, irrespective of their denominational connection, from all parts of the United Kingdom. That the most needy, helpless, and deserving may secure the benefits of the institution, candidates are selected by the committee, and are not elected by the expensive and objectionable process of polling the subscribers. No uniform dress is provided, but the children’s garments differ, in order that no peculiar garb may mark the children with the badge of poverty. The children receive a plain but thorough English education and training. The supreme aim of the managers is always kept in view — to “bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.”

PSALM LXX.

Make haste, O God, my soul to bless,
My help and my deliverer Thou!

Make haste! for I ‘m in deep distress,
My case is urgent, — help me now!

Make haste, O God! make haste to save!

For time is short and death is nigh!
Make haste! ere yet I ‘m in my grave,

And with the lost for ever he.

Make haste! for I am poor and low,
And Satan mocks my prayers and tears;

O God, in mercy be not slow.
But snatch me from my horrid fears.

Make haste, O God, and hear my cries!

Then with the souls who seek Thy face,-
And those who Thy salvation prize,

I ’11 magnify Thy matchless grace.

C. H. Spurgeon.