184
April 1929
T h e
K i n g ' s
B u s i n e s s
“Do you wish to hear more? Time will fail me to tell of ‘the sweet influences of the Pleiades’ —now said to be the center of the universe—or of the fact that His Word tells us ‘He hang- eth the earth on nothing.’ A breathless sort of pronouncement for the heathen world that thought itself supported by various mythical creatures, such as Atlas, etc.” “Enough, enough!” cried Pauline. “I am dizzy! Proceed to Geology. Tell us why Noah and the flood are always laughed at in school—yes, and in college too ! For I heard you telling Uncle Alan so the other day.” “Yes, and what did Uncle Alan do? Gave me a heap of references to back up Genesis. Step out, Geology! You are fitly represented in this set-up by a stone. “G eology : “ ‘Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth?’ asks the great Former of the material universe. I am here to declare the wondrous truth that every part of the visible creation was formed by a personal, actual Creator whose name is Love, whose rule is justice, whose present manifestation is unmerited favor in our dear Saviour.” “Bravo!” suddenly cried a voice behind them. All three girls turned to see Uncle Alan himself leaning against a tree and regarding them with an unusually pleased smile. They were all devoted to this hero-uncle whose work among the Pacific Islanders in the far-off tropical zone had lent such an enchantment to the study of missions. “What is this?” he demanded as he strode forward. “A rosebud, a fig, and a stone, e h ! Forces of nature all drawn up to fight on your side, is that it, Elise ? Well, you have the right of i t ; so they are. ‘They that be for us are more than they that be against us.’ ” “Uncle Alan,” interposed Elise eagerly. “Tell them what you told me about the geology of the flood.” The tall brown man seated himself cross-legged on the grass. “Professor Dana of Yale says that it’s manifest that a flood, vast beyond conception, was the final event in the history of the glacier,” he said. “The horses! Tell them about the horses!” interpo lated Elise. But her uncle’s methodical mind balked at this departure. “Don’t gallop so fast,” he laughed. “All in good time! I want to tell them about finding gravel beds on mountains where no river has ever flowed-—gravel beds full of sea shells belonging to both shore and deep sea. I want them to know of the puzzling vast mud deposits found in Boliv ia, for instance, at a height of more than 1,300 feet. The hills in the Rhine Valley are sometimes actually covered with it. Then, too, they must, hear that there is no sign of that wear that would result from river, sea or ice action, so that these deposits must have come from a short submergence, and a world-wide one, as they are found all around the globe. “Now, all over Europe are caves where the animals took refuge. Bones are driven into the cave crevices with great force—sometimes broken and mingled with mud and gravel. The cave of Santenay in Burgundy on high ground is one in which the wildly fleeing animals took refuge. On an island near Corfu is a mountain a mile high called the Mountain of Bones—it’s so covered with animal remains! It is on a ranch near Irvington, near Oakland, that your horses, or horse mastodons, were found, Elise,—evidently swept down from the highlands in a tremendous prehistoric flood. But it is in Siberia that we have a find! Here are animals that became frozen even as they were submerged, and their skin and flesh are as fresh as though it had occurred yesterday. In some
cases the distended nostrils and gorging of the blood ves sels of the head with brown coagulated blood, show that the animals died of suffocation. In some places they are found with heads in every case turned north, as if over taken in flight by waters rushing up from the southland.” Elise drew a long breath. “Geology, we thank you!” she murmured. “And there’s lots more, isn’t there, Uncle Alan ?” “Oh, yes! Sir J. W. Dawson, after commenting on the change in attitude on the part of scientific inquirers to ward the Noachian deluge from that of smiles and shrugs to one of serious consideration, goes on to say: ‘The earliest traces of men known through geology are sep arated from the modern world of ordinary history by a great physical cataclysm involving the permanent diminu tion of the area of our continents and the destruction of men and of animal life. The modern races of men are descended from the survivors of these physical changes.’ ” “How plain you make it!” cried Pauline. “Uncle Alan, I believe you have led me to see how wrong it is to doubt God’s own Word.” “Better and brainier men than I have believed it,” said Uncle Alan. “Sir Isaac Newton, Lord Kelvin, Pascal, Dr. Howard Kelly,—scores more!” Little Sister collected the rose, the fig, and the stone. “I am going to put these in the cabinet in the playroom,” she announced, “to remind me to read my Bible.” “And to believe i t !” called back Pauline, as she ran off for a quiet time with her Gospel of John. The oak grows to lusty, sturdy strength by buffeting the baffling winds that seek its overthrow. The emperor moth becomes a thing of shining, surpassing beauty be cause it must struggle to break forth from its enclosing cocoon. And God permits His children to face the winds of adversity and to struggle against the enclosing net work of imprisoning circumstance—of sore trial and vexatious defeat, of bereavement piled on bereavement till each succeeding one repeats the shock and pain of all preceding with accumulating force, of bitter disappoint ment in life’s plans—that so He may draw His own to closer walk with Himself and mold them into the like ness of His beloved Son and ripen them for eternal fel lowship with Himself in the mansions of glory. How often does the bright prospect exist alongside of the saddening present, and men and women go on with sinking hearts even though their trust in the Lord is clear and strong. They seem unable to overcome the tendency to let their sorrow weigh them down. The remembrance of old bereavements, renewed under the pressure of fresher griefs, the sense of smaller achievement than life’s early dawn promised, the dread apprehension of one’s life purposes ending in apparent failure or defeat, with the facing of daily pain of body added to all this, makes life for some even of the Lord’s own servants a long day of regret or of sad depression. Such experiences as one nears the ending of one’s years may lead to the flood ing of the eyes with tears that deepen desire for earth’s final deliverance and the Lord’s glorious triumph. Pas tors and Christian teachers, saddened with the sense of unaccomplished service, need the comforting assurance, “I will restore to you the years that the canker worm hath eaten.” Then that word is full of tender comfort, “God will wipe out every tear out of their eyes.”— Jewish Mis sionary Magazine.
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