THE KING’S BUSINESS
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“Let me at a throne of mercy Find a sweet relief; Kneeling there in deep contrition, . Help my unbelief.” “Trusting only in Thy merit.” Here the boy stopped. The minister said, “Go on.” “No ;” the boy replied, “I need not go on, for I am a Chris tian; I am saved.” The minister looked down into the bright sweet face of the happy boy and did not for one moment doubt his word. As I have watched the progress of that boy in the life divine I have never doubted his conversion from that day until this. Trusting only in the merit of our blessed Lord and Saviour I have seen hundreds of other boys and girls in this great Home Mission field en ter into the same sweet experience; and have heard them say, “I am a Christian; I am sweetly saved.” Approaching an humble home late one evening, and when within about one hundred yards of the house, I heard the cries of a heart-broken mother and hurried on as fast as i could (after a day’s journey on foot) toward the house. As I drew near the door I heard the voice of a dying boy, as he prayed, “Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is done in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us.from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.” Then after a moment’s silence I heard him say, “Now I am ready, Lord; now I am ready.” As I entered the room he breathed his last, and went home to be with Jesus with these words on his lips, “I am ready, Lord; I am ready.” Only a few weeks be fore I gave the boy a Testament, and
can live but a few days longer.' Can you not be easy with him? Come in.” Baker went into the house. The old moonshiner was on his death bed ; consumption was eating his life away. Baker told him who he was. Old Hinton, who had but recently learned to pray, murmured softly, “O God, help me.” The girl came closer. The preacher kneeled in prayer. When the preacher arose old Zeb sáid, “Mr. Revenue Man, I am ready to go with you now.” The preacher moved for ward. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Baker to the moonshiner, “I’ll destroy your still, and you sign a pledge not to make whiskey any more. Will vou?” “Yes,” whispered Zeb Hinton, “I will.” “He did,” said Baker, “and I sat down to a hearty meal with Elizabeth and Mrs. Zeb Hinton opposite me, and the preacher by my side. The preacher and I de stroyed the still and emptied several gallons of moonshine whiskey. Be fore I went away from Savannah, two days later, I heard that old Zeb Hin ton was dead. “Well,” said Baker, “he never broke his pledge with me.” At the close of one of our services, held under an old saw mill shed, a little boy came forward and as he gave his hand to the minister, said, “I want to to be a Christian.” The minister said, “My child, can you pray?” The boy answered, “No; I can’t pray—I never heard any one pray till I heard you this morning— Oh, no; I can’t pray.” After a mo ment’s silence, the boy looked up and said, “Yes; 1 believe I can pray.” And then he began to repeat the words of that old familiar song which he had learned somewhere, “Pass me not, O gentle Saviour, Hear my humble cry; While on others Thou art calling, D o n o t pass me by.
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