THE KING’S BUSINESS
117
of Christians—jewels that God has kept for His glory—lights kept brightly burning in the midst of the surrounding sin and gloom. One afternoon I preached in a county jail to about thirty prisoners, all of whom had grown up in the destitute section of our Home Mis sion Field wthout any knowledge of God or the Christian duty of obedi ence to the law. One young man who had a. long record of sin and wrong-doing behind him was deeply touched by the words of the minister and tears flowed down his cheeks as his whole body trembled with emo tion. The preacher told the old story of the cross and of the power of the crucified Christ to save even the very worst of men from their sins. At the close of the service this young man.grasped the hand of the minister and said, “I will trust Jesus as .my Lord and Saviour, and will give my life to Him.” In a few weeks he was released from prison, and now is cashier of one of the banks in a large Southern city, and is loved and trusted by all who know him. His pastor, who knows nothing of his past, said to me, “I haven’t a finer young man in my church than Mr. -------- ; one who is more consistent in his life, or is more faithful in the discharge of his Christian duties.” What the law of the land, with all its severe penalties had utterly failed to do, the grace of God in the heart of this young man did at once and for ever. There is nothing like the old gospel to reform the wayward and save the lost. To this simple story of some of the events that have occurred in my own experience as a Home Missionary, I will add only a word concerning my self and I am done : When I was ordained as a minister in the Presby terian church by the presbytery of
home on the hillside, I believe my grandmother is dying.” I followed the boy a few hundred yards and came to the log cabin in the midst of a grove of cedar trees. I made my way through the crowd gathered in the little cabin and soon stood by the bedside of an old woman who had passed her seventy-fifth year, and who lay dying. I soon discovered that she was entirely blind. Kneeling at her bedside, I said, “My precious mother, you seem to be near the end. Are you prepared to go?” She an swered, “Sir, fifty years ago, in old Virginia, I gave my heart to God. Twenty-five years ago I buried, over yonder on the hillside, my dear, good husband; and for fifteen years I have been entirely blind. But through all these years, since the day of my con version, the strange,1sweet peace of God has filled my heart. Yes; I am dying, but I am ready and more than willing to go. Thank God,” she said, “I will, soon be with my precious husband in a land where there is no more blindness, no suffering, no death forevermore.” 1 prayed with her and then said to myself, “I will stay here till the end and see her die. I would rather see this old saint go home than to witness the coronation of a king, or all the barbaric splendor and glitter ing pageantry of a thousand empires.” The next day we laid her away be side her husband. I preached her funeral, and related her last words to the great throng gathered there. Twenty-two souls were saved that summer afternoon. I t was not the preacher’s sermon, but the dying testi mony of that dear old mother that God blessed in the salvation of all those precious souls. Among the thousands in this great field who are without spiritual privi leges and are lost in darkness and sin, the Missionary occasionally meets with some of the very sweetest and best
Made with FlippingBook - professional solution for displaying marketing and sales documents online