Mr. DEAR CHILDREN, —
BEING much engaged in this mighty city of London, I am unable to send you much correspondence; however, as the Lord gives me time and ability, I will gladly write something for you. My blessed Lord loves little children, and I love them too, and often think of his word, and say,
“I wish that his hand had been placed on my head,”
(Yes, my head; for though it is now a long time since I was a child, I do love to think of his hand being on my head, as well as on the heads of those dear little ones.)
“And his arms had been thrown around me,
And that I might have seen his kind look when he said,
‘Let the little ones come unto me.’”
Oh, what a look of love and kindness! Yes, and all who came to him with sad hearts went away joyful: whatever the cause of their sorrow might be, he could make them happy, and did. And now I want to say a word or two about this blessed. Saviour, and why I love him; and oh, if I can induce you to come to him too, I shall indeed be glad; for he is soon coming to take the little ones to glory with all those, whether old or young, who love him.
When about the same age as yourselves, I frequently heard about him, and was regularly in my place at the Sunday-school; but what a naughty boy I was to my dear teacher, and how I used to laugh and mock the dear people of God! But how glad I am to tell that one day I heard that Jesus was coming to rule and reign in this world, and put away all wicked people, and that he was going to make this world so bright and happy, and fill it with all the gentle and the good; and this made my heart sad, and afraid; and though I had dear parents who loved him, I was afraid I should not be with them in glory with Jesus, but shut up in hell forever and forever. Well, I did not know what to do: so I thought of some prayers I had read of, and was anxious to make myself right by saying these prayers. But, my dear children, prayers like these won’t save us, neither shall we be any better in God’s sight by saying them. You will say then, why this is just what I have done myself, and it must be right to pray to God. Well, it is right; but you may say prayers without praying, and that is not the way to escape the wrath to come, for you know, unless there is something more than this we are not safe, nor are we prepared for that moment when we must all appear before him. It was when I cast myself upon Christ that I was happy, when I believed that his precious blood “cleanseth from all sin.”
How sorry I am when I think of the many dear children around me who do not care to know whether he will receive them or no!
Now, Jesus carries in his bosom his little ones, like the shepherd takes the lambs that can’t walk.
It may be you want to feel safe and happy, and would be afraid if called to die, or would be frightened if Christ came. Well, it is not too late while I am writing, to come to him. He is calling you to him by this letter. He wants you to come. Believe him, trust him, give him your heart and confidence. He has died to put away sin, and prove that he loves you; and now he has risen above the power of death, and still loves little children, and in his word says, “Come unto me, and I will give you rest.”
Come to him now, where you are, just as you are: wait not, delay not, but come.
“Millions have reached that blissful shore,
And still there’s room for millions more.”
Yes, —
“There’s room in God’s eternal love,
To save thy precious soul;
Room in the Saviour’s grace above,
To heal and make thee whole.
There’s room in heaven among the choir,
And harps and crowns of gold,
And glorious palms of victory,
And joys that ne’er were told.”
May you, my dear readers, be encouraged to come, so that when the last moment arrives, when you will be called away from this earthly scene, you may be ready to meet him and be folded in his bosom forever. J. F.