tiful mansion. One was standing with the key in his hand, a
handsome ring on his finger, and a hundred gold and silver coins
scattered round him. The other, who was probably his slave, was
stretched on the ground, with his hands clutching some silver cups and
vases. These men had evidently been suffocated whilst trying to carry
off the money and treasure.
But one man in that buried city deserves to be remembered to the end of
time. Who was he? One Roman soldier, the brave sentinel at the gate.
There he had been posted in the morning, and there he had been bidden to
remain.
And how was he found? Standing at his post, with his hand still grasping
his sword, faithful unto death. There, by the city gate; whilst the
earth shook and rocked, whilst the sky was black with ashes, whilst
showers of stones were falling around him, and whilst hundreds of men,
women and children brushed past him as they fled in terror from the
city, there he stood, firm and unmoved. Should such a man as I flee?
thought the sentinel. And in that same spot, in that post of duty, he
was found 1800 years after, faithful to his trust, faithful unto death.
Oh, that the Lord's soldiers were more like that brave man in Pompeii!
It is so easy to begin a thing, so hard to stick to it; so easy to start
on the Christian course, so difficult to persevere; so easy to enlist in
the army, so very hard to stand unmoved in the time of danger or trial.
Yet what says the Master? He that endureth to the end (and he alone)
shall be saved. What says the Captain? chat it is the soldier who is
faithful unto death (and no one else) who shall receive the crown of
life.
Who then amongst us are faithful, true and unmoved? Who amongst us
can stand firm in spite of Satan's efforts to lead us aside? Who
can hold on, not for a week only, but still faithful as the weeks
change into months, and the months into years, faithful unto death?
About 100 years before the time of Nehemiah, there lived a wise old
Chinaman, the philosopher Confucius. Looking round upon his fellow-men,
Confucius said that he noticed that a large proportion of them were
'Copper-kettle-boiling-water men.' The water in a copper kettle, said
Confucius, boils very quickly, much more quickly than in an iron kettle;
but the worst of it is that it just as quickly cools down, and ceases to
boil.
So, said Confucius, is it with numbers of my fellow-men: they are one
day hot and eager, boiling over with zeal in
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