Editorial by W. A. S.

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Aug 5, 1909

Editorial

By W. A. S.

The Delivering Hand of God

In the following incidents, one in the strenuous Reformation times, another in the common round of modern New England life, we see the same ministry of a watchful Providence over children of God in danger:—

From Rome to Liberty

One of the characters of the Scottish reformation was John Craig, associate of Knox. He was converted in a Dominican convent, in Bologne, France, through getting hold of one of Calvin’s books. He was in an enemy’s country. John Whitcross, of Scotland, wrote thus of Craig’s trials and wonderful deliverances:—

He was seized as a heretic soon after, and carried to Rome, where he was condemned to be burned; but on the evening preceding the day of execution, the reigning pontiff died, and, according to custom, the doors of all prisons were thrown open. All others were released; but heretics, after being permitted to go outside the walls, were reconducted to their cells. That night, however, a tumult was excited, and Craig and his companions escaped. They had entered a small inn at some distance from Rome, when they were overtaken by a party of soldiers sent to apprehend them. On entering the house, the captain looked Craig steadfastly in the face, and asked him if he remembered having once relieved a poor wounded soldier in the neighborhood of Bologne. Craig had forgotten it. “But,” said the captain, “I am the man. I shall requite your kindness; you are at liberty. Your companions I must take away with me; but for your sake I shall treat them with all possible lenity.” He gave him all the money he had, and Craig escaped. But his money soon failed him; yet God, who feedeth the ravens, did not. While Craig was lying at the side of a wood, full of gloomy apprehensions, a dog came running up to him with a purse in his teeth. Suspecting some evil, he attempted to drive the animal away, but in vain. He at length took the purse, and found in it a sum of money which carried him to Vienna.—“Anecdotes of the Assembly’s Shorter Catechism.”

Why the Horse Balked

A New England minister years ago wrote out for the late Mr. H. L. Hastings, of Boston, this story of deliverance. His father was a man of faith, regularly committing the lives of all the household to God at the family altar. One day, in 1850, he started for the mill at Rockland, R. I., with a bag of rye to be ground into flour for the family bread.

On the way the staid old family horse unaccountably balked on a bridge over a stream, and began to turn and back up. He kept on till the rear wheels of the wagon went over the log guard along the edge of the planks. The farmer jumped out, and the horse stood still, holding the front wheels catching on the log guard, so that the wagon did not go over, but the contents were thrown into the water. Neighbors helped to right the wagon up, and the grist was fished out. The minister says:—

There was a mystery about the transaction. The horse had showed no signs of fright, and had never acted so before. My father was perplexed. He had earnestly prayed only that morning that the angel of the Lord might encamp round about us that day, and here was this unaccountable accident.

He returned home, and we went to work to dry our grain and prepare it for grinding; but when we spread out the rye upon a cloth in the sun to dry, we noticed, scattered through it all, fragments of a fine, glittering substance, which, on examination, proved to be glass. Thousands upon thousands of fine fragments mingled with those two bushels of rye—enough to cause the death of all the family if the grain had been ground and baked and eaten.

We were amazed at this revelation; and with what grateful hearts we knelt around the family altar and thanked God for his wonderful providence which had so strangely preserved our lives.

He says they found on investigation that the rye had been kept for a time in an open barrel, and that above this workmen had been smoothing ax handles, using pieces of glass to scrape and polish the wood. In this way particles of glass had been ground off, to fall down through and into the rye. This was unnoticed when the grain was emptied into the sack to be taken to the mill when bread was needed.

W. A. S.