OVER the tiny grave of an infant, whose little body was the only one washed ashore at Lydd, near Dungeness, from the wreck of the emigrant ship Northfleet, a slab has been placed without a name, and bearing only the simple inscription, “God Knows!” These words were spoken by the parish constable when he was asked by the undertaker what name he was to put on the coffin-plate. How could he tell? The little creature was unknown to all. Whence it had come, to whom it had belonged, what had been its name, none knew but God alone; and so, as the parish constable looked on the tiny coffin and thought of the little stranger’s sad and sudden death in the deep sea, he could only shake his head, and say, “God knows!” And he spoke the truth, for God does know all about that little child and those to whom it once belonged. He saw it when the ship went down and the mighty waters overwhelmed it in its utter helplessness, and He permitted it. Perhaps He foresaw that if that little child had lived to grow up it would have become a rejector of Christ and a wicked person. He foresaw, too, perhaps, that because “the way of transgressors is hard” even in this world, when grown up it would be wretched, with nothing before it, but “after death, the judgment,” and so in mercy took it to Himself while yet innocent of evil, an unconscious infant saved in the power of that precious blood which “taketh away the sin of the world.” The little one, you know, had committed no sins; if it had, nothing but faith in Christ could save it; but it had the sin of its nature alone, the root and not the fruit, for it had not lived long enough to think an evil thought or do an evil deed; and so, dying all unconscious of evil, the poor little “innocent” (as Scripture calls very little children) was taken to God.
I often think how many myriads—yes, countless myriads—of little children are now in heaven. I believe it would be as impossible to count them as it would be to reckon up the number of grains in “the sand of the sea.” We know that numbers of little children die every day in all parts of the world. It is one of the sad fruits of sin; but, so far as they are concerned, we may truly say, “Our God hath turned the curse into a blessing;” for is it not a blessing to escape all the sins and all the sorrows and sufferings of this world, and all the danger of everlasting misery? Of course it is. “God knows,” as the parish constable said; and so, because “God is love,” He takes multitudes of little ones home to heaven every year; and although death is the fruit of sin and the terrible proof of its power, He brings glory to Himself even out of that! What a wonder-working God He is! And when all those countless multitudes of saved little ones shall be seen
“Around the throne of God in heaven,”
clothed in glory, singing the praises of Him to whose love even unto death, the death of the cross, they owe all their happiness, when they see what might have been if they had lived long enough on the earth to sin against God by refusing Christ, O how they will adore the Saviour of sinners!
But you are older than the little infants of whom I speak; you can read and hear and think; and, sad to say it, you can even sin, perhaps have done so too often already in naughty ways and tempers, thoughts and words, and worse still, in not believing in Jesus If so, it is very solemn to think that “God knows.” Even if no one else knows anything about it, He knows all. Do you ever think of this? It is with God that all of us have to do, even children who are old enough to think. You may please your parents, and it is surely right to do so; but are you pleasing God? Not unless you have really come to Jesus. To hear and read about God’s blessed Son, and not to love Him, must surely be a very great sin in God’s sight. Are you guilty of this sin day after day? If so, remember “GOD KNOWS.”