218

CUT THE DYKES.

CUT THE DYKES!

The Story of an October Walind.

BY C. N.

T was a terrible crisis in the year 1574 in the history of one of the cities in " dyke-girdled Holland." Its inhabitants had accepted the Gospel with their whole heart, and now they were prepared to stand to it.

Their ruler, Philip II. of Spain, was enraged with them, and he sent the most fierce and cruel General even of that time to subdue them, and to insist upon their return to the Roman religion. But they would not be subdued; they maintained their ground against the overwhelming hosts of Spanish soldiers under their fierce leader, the Duke of Alva. He desolated their country, but they held firm; he besieged their cities, but they would not yield. Now his armies were surrounding Leyden, a prosperous city on one of the long low levels of the country.

The strong host pressed it hard, and famine began to be felt, for the Spanish army prevented any supplies from reaching them. At last they were in such a terrible condition of want and weakness that they began to think of yielding, for the Duke promised them their lives if they submitted. Just then they heard of their sistercity Haarlem. It, too, had been besieged and brought to such extremities, that it had yielded, trusting to the promises of the Duke. But not one of them was kept, and as soon as the gates were opened the Spanish army poured in, and sacked and ravaged and murdered, until hardly one was left. A great cry rose from Leyden when this news came, "We will die fighting, die starving rather." And so they resolved to hold out. !

Meanwhile, their friends were thinking of them. How could Leyden be relieved? And one day the white sails of rescue-ships were seen in the distance. Oh, the intense joy! Those white sails meant deliverance from their foes and from starvation. They

watched, nearer and nearer they came, and now came a time of awful suspense; could they overcome the barrier the Spaniards had built across their way, or would it be too strong for them? A few more minutes and then they knew, and they saw the ships retreating, and all their hopes of help died away as the white sails grew less and less. Every hope went with them; now in their despair they thought of yielding, when the fearful whisper reached them of Haarlem, and their courage and determination were roused again.

But what was to be done? Much of Holland lies below the level of the sea, and the only way to keep the sea from flooding it is by enormous dykes built along the coast. These dykes protected their property, and they were most carefully kept in repair.

But now something dearer than wealth was at stake. It was a question of life or death, and the thought ran round, "We shall cut the dykes and let in the sea!" Their strength against their besiegers was all but exhausted, but the sea was stronger than the mightiest host; they were well nigh dead from famine, but the sea would bring them food. And it was decided. Silently, surely, the deed was done; the dykes were cut, the ships drew near again, and now what was to prevent the great ocean from sweeping in to their rescue? Eagerly they watched.

But no waves rolled in, no deliverance came, and the enemies laughed and gloated as they knew how soon the poor city must succumb. What hindered? The dykes were cut, the ships were mear, but a mighty, invisible power made all in vain.

It was the wind! Strongly and steadily it blew from the southwest, and the mighty ocean was kept back by it completely. No waves could overcome that invisible power, and their sacrifice seemed useless. This was on October 3rd. All night agonised prayers rose from perishing Leyden to the God who controls the winds, and as Moses' prayer was answered the answer came to them, nd the next morning the wind shifted; swiftly the wind veered rom south-west to north-east, and the waves awoke and answered, nd in a few hours the great ocean swept through the severed dykes, nd the rescue ships sailed triumphantly in over the barrier which

had impeded them before, the enemies were scattered, and Leyden was saved!

Our hearts grow full over the heroic story of endurance and sacrifice as we read of such men. They fought for consciencefreedom for the world, and not for themselves alone, and it is to grand faith and will like theirs, that we owe the freedom we prize so highly.

Other thoughts too throng in as we read the grand and quickening story. I think of a besieged Christian. You are shut up, and you cannot come forth. You own the Lord for your Saviour, but enemies are sorely pressing you all round. The world says,

"yield! what are you gaining by keeping aloof?" And the devil chimes in with the same whisper, and unsubdued passions and desires all plead with you,-" Yield, yield, we will give you life!" But you do not yield, for though the fight is so fierce, and your sufferings keen, and you are starving and wounded, daily growing weaker, while the enemies grow stronger, yet there is something within which keeps you from giving in, and you hold on still. You see from afar the promises of God with their white sails of hope and peace, and you know they bear both deliverance and provision; rescue from the enemies, and rescue from famine, and you wonder why the great tide of His power and love does not break in and deliver you. Sometimes they draw nearer, but then some unseen barrier hinders, and they retire again, out of your reach, and you are dying for want of them.

Suddenly you recognise there is something between you and the ocean; something which you can remove, and you see a great dyke of unbelief which is hindering God from doing mighty works in you. Unbelief? yes; for "it is the ground-work of all other sins, and includes all others." And then the conflict comes, shall I cut the dyke? If I do, all my property will be submerged. It is true there is not much to lose, for the enemies have destroyed the harvest and the seed, but still you do not like to give up what you have. And then you hesitate again over one point or another, saying, "Why should I give it up? It is nothing wrong." Ah, but that is not the question. It may be something very harm

less, even very useful, but the point is, is it keeping you from deliverance? And at last you yield. His love conquers, your distress is too deep to hold back any longer, and the great dyke of your will is cut, and you yield yourself up to Him.

But now why does not the blessing come? Why does not the great tide of His love overflow into your life and heart? Why are not the enemies crushed? and for the moment you seem in worse case than before. It is like that day on Carmel; the people had returned to their God, the prophets were slain, but still there was no rain. It still needed Elijah's lonely prayer. And you go in before Him, and in your agony you cry, "My Lord, I have yielded all! The dykes are cut; send Thy wind that the great ocean may roll in and deliver me."

And then there is no question about the answer, it will surely come, it will not tarry!

This is what we want to know. It is our part to cut the dykes, but no power on earth can bring the ocean in. That is the part of His sovereign grace alone. You cannot "command blessing"; only He can. "He causeth His wind to blow, and the waters flow," and there sail in upon the ocean of His love fleets of white-sailed promises freighted with full deliverance and full provision; there is both rescue and food upon them.

Cut the dykes, then, despairing ones, and cut them now. Then rest on His Almighty and Sovereign power to send the Spirit who carries in deliverance and satisfying. The blessing cannot come until the dykes are cut, but the cut dykes are nothing without the wind. Do not be content with the opened dykes, but watch for and claim the incoming of the mighty tide of the love and power of God.

And when the great outer dyke of unbelief is cut, the tide will overcome every other obstacle which had stood in the way, as the sea lifted the ships over the inner barrier, and the full freighted promises will discharge their wealth at your doors. That far distant promise of "sin shall not have dominion over you," which you have hungered to know, shall be your own at last; and you shall rejoicingly say besides "He satisfieth the longing soul!"