The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1890, Page 31

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The Lutheran Pioneer.

31

“What is the next Station?”

This was the question, writes a pastor, which
I askéd of the station master, as I sat waiting
for the train. I had gone some miles into the
country to visit an aged lady who was very
sick and whose house was close by the railway
station; and, having finished my call, I was
sitting in the waiting room until the returning
train should arrive.

I found myself alone with the depot master
—an aged man with white hair and a face
which told of care and hard work.

“What is the next station?’ I inquired,
being unacquainted with the road.

“The next station is the last,’’ he answered.
“Tt is the end of the line. You passed a good
many stopping places coming out, sir; but
there is only one more as you go on.”’

There was a pause for a moment in the
conversation; then, evidently understand-
ing my errand, he asked:

‘‘How is the old lady, sir?”’

“She is fast nearing the last station,”
I replied. ‘‘She is very sick; and besides
she is seventy years old and has reached
the end of life as Jaid down in the Book;
for you know the Bible says that ‘the
days of our years are three score years
and ten’—seventy years—that is, seventy
stations.’’

There was quite a pause in the conver-
sation again, during which the old man
seemed to be thinking. Then he said:

“‘According to that, I suppose, I may
be pretty near the end of my route, since
I-am just turning seventy. Well, lam
not sorry. I have worked hard, and
have seen a good deal of trouble, and I
shall not feel badly to get through.’’

“What is the next station?’ I asked
abruptly. ‘You say you are nearing the
end of your journey of life, and that you have
passed seventy stations already. What is the
next station?””

“Ah, nobody knows about that!’’ he an-
swered. ‘We know about the past, but what
is going to be hereafter no one can tell. I only
hope that I shall be better off in the next world
than I have been in this; but I can not say
certainly, for no one has ever come back from
that world to tell us anything about it.”

“Ah, but you are mistaken there!’’ J inter-
rupted. ‘There is One who has come back
” and told us about the future life. Do you not
. know that Jesus Christ rose again from the

dead, ‘and hath brought life and immortality

to light through the Gospel’ ’’?

“Who are you?” the old man asked ab-
ruptly. “I thought you were a doctor who
had come out to visit the old lady. I guess I
am mistaken, sir?”’

“Yes,” I answered; ‘‘you are not quite cor-
rect. I am a minister of the Gospel, rather,
and my calling is very much like yours. Iam
trying to help men on their journey through
life, to answer their questions about the route,

and especially to persuade them to believe on
the Son of God, that they may have eternal
life and land at last in glory.”

‘Well, there may be a better world beyond
the grave, and there may not be. We don’t
know,’’ he continued.

“Don’t know!” I said, pressing the point
with all earnestness on his heart. ‘‘We do
know. How could I preach the Gospel and
urge men to seek for glory and immortality,
unless I knew certainly that there is a world
of life and blessedness hereafter? Why, sir,
what will people think of you if, in reply to
their question, ‘What is the next station?’ you
should say, ‘I don’t know. Nobody knows?’
And so I could not preach the Gospel and

Heads of the Waughha and other Tribes in Africa.

pel, knew what the next station was: ‘We
know that if our earthly house of this taber-
nacle were dissolved, we have a building of
God, a house not made with hands, eternal in
the heavens.’ This is his answer to the great
question, ‘What shall be hereafter?’ And if
you will believe in Jesus Christ, and take His
Gospel as your guide book, you can know just
as well as Paul what the next station beyond
the tomb shall be for you.’’

Just then the whistle of the approaching
train sounded, and the old man hastened about
his work. As I stepped upon the platform of
the car, he stood at the crossing waving his
signal flag, his white hair floating in the wind,
and I said, as the train moved out, ‘‘Be sure
you find out what the next station is before you
reach the end.” And I heard the reply falling
rather hesitatingly on my ear, “‘I will try, sir.’”

Reader, what answer have you to make’ to
this question? In the hurrying train of life
you are moving swiftly on. Ever and anon
there is a pause, and some passenger steps off
and disappears. The next stopping place may
be yours; where will it land you?

“To depart and be with Christ,’’ is one answer
to the question — with the Lord in Paradise.
There are multitudes who are just as certain
of that destination, when their time comes, as
they are of the truth of God’s Word. And
they are ready at any moment for the change.

‘Forever with the Lord!’’ The cry, ‘‘Behold,
the bridegroom cometh,’’ and then, ‘‘caught up
to meet the Lord in the air” — this is the sure
and certain hope of thousands who are waiting
for their King.

There are others to whom death is only a
step in the dark, and the coming of the Lord
only a strange, mysterious terror. Young man,
to whom the summons may come very suddenly
and unexpectedly to disembark, are you sure

urge men to seek for heaven and eternal bles-| where you will be when life is ended? Old
sedness, unless I was perfectly sure of this|man, to whom the end must certainly be very
reality. Paul; the great preacher of the Gos-| near, are you certain what shall be your destiny

beyond the grave? Put to yourselves
these serious questions and let conscience
answer, if you are without God and with-
out hope in the world. If you have a true
faith in Jesus Christ, then let Scripture
answer, with a hope sure and steadfast.
Be careful that you know what the next
station is!

——~+ oe

Story about a Bible.

There was a little boy who wanted a
Bible very much indeed—wanted it more
than anything else he could think of. But
he was a poor boy and could not afford -
to buy one, for he lived a good many
years ago when Bibles cost more than
they do now.

One day two strange gentlemen came
to his house and asked his mother for
something to eat. Although she had
only plain food, she gave them a wel-
come to what she had. As they ate, they saw
that the little boy looked sad. They asked
him what he wanted and he told them, a Bible.

His mother said, ‘‘Never mind. Don’t fret
about that. I'll take you to see General Wash-
ington next week.”

“But I’d rather have a Bible than to go to
see General Washington,” the boy said.

One of the gentlemen seemed much pleased
with this and told him he hoped he would
always be as fond of the Bible.

The next day the little boy received a beau-
tiful Bible, and on the fly-leaf was written,
‘From George Washington.”

The little boy did not know it, but he had
been talking to General Washington himself
the day before.—Our Iittle People.

Prope who study their troubles all the time
will always be troubled. ‘Looking at the mis-
eries they grow worse and worse, and in pro-
portion as pains are noticed and nursed will’
they increase and deepen. If we would have
peace, we must look away from ourselves to
Jesus and cast all our care upon Him.