True Stories of Conversion- By AN IRISH CLERGYMAN The Protestant Squire
R .EGINALD FIRBANK was a wealthy Irish landlord, and re sided at Kilmore Castle. He had enjoyed a liberal education, being an M. A. of Trinity College, Dublin, and a barrister-at-law. The fact of his being a wealthy man seems to have deterred him from following any use ful or profitable employment, and he spent his time—as too many of his class do—in a childish round of pleas ure. At the time of which I write, he had taken a shooting lodge in Con naught for the season, and was spend ing his time idly and aimlessly amidst the wild and beautiful scenery in the west of Ireland. One day it came into his head, quite unaccountably, that he ought to go to Dublin. Why he should go to Dub lin he could not tell, as he had no business to take him there. But an irresistible persuasion possessed him that he must go. Unable to account for it, and unable to resist the im pression, he found himself the fol lowing day, traveling to Dublin by the early train. When he arrived at Broadstone Station he went to his club, feeling greatly surprised to find himself there, and wondering what could have induced him to come to the city. There were not many gentlemen at the club, and he sat down and took his lunch with an old friend. The talk was on things in general; but in the course of conversation his friend remarked—“Have you heard about those fellows from America—Moody and Sankey?” “No! What about them?” “They are preaching at the Rotun da; I am told that Sankey does the singing, and Moody the preaching, and everybody is going to hear them.”
“Oh, is that so?” Firbank replied. “I never heard anything about them.” Somehow or other Mr. Firbank could not forget this conversation, or get the names of Moody and Sankey out of his mind. He spent his time idling about, and at six o’clock took an early dinner. At seven o’clock he found himself with nothing particu lar to do, and the thought came into his mind, that he ought to go and hear “those fellows from America—Moody and Sankey. So, putting on his coat and hat, he started off, and found himself at a quarter to eight sitting in the Rotunda waiting for the meet ing to begin at eight o’clock. The people all seemed to be enjoying them selves, and from timé to time broke out into some well-known hymn. The hymns and all the surroundings were entirely new to Mr. Firbank, who had never, to his recollection, been to an evangelistic meeting before. He ven tured to look around, but he did not recognize any of his friends, though he doubted not some of the audience would recognize him. The meeting began in the usual way, and the earnestness of the proceedings commanded his attention. He did not think very much of the style of Mr. Moody’s preaching, yet he felt that he meant every word he said. But as he continued to preach, the thought was borne in upon his mind, that if Mr. Moody was right, he was wrong. He had no doubt Mr. Moody was right. If the preacher had described the true way to heaven, Reginald Fir bank was on the way to hell. He be came greatly interested—In a word, anxious about his soul. That evening Mr. Sankey sang, in his own inimita ble way, the sacred song, “There were
Made with FlippingBook - Online catalogs