"How do you do, Mr. Gough? I am so glad to see you; I was delighted to see you at the meeting last night, and I am so thankful that you had courage given you to go forward and sign the pledge. I simply called over to shake you by the hand and wish you God speed in your noble endeavor. Here is my card; I want you to call at my office, as I desire to get acquainted with you." Those kind words entered into his heart, and from that auspicious hour he resolved to be steadfast and immovable in his renunciation of his drinking habits.
God loves and prospers those who, like Jesus, speak kind words of encouragement to those who have gone astray from the paths of rectitude. The brevity and uncertainty of life ought to teach us the practical lesson that if we would save men and women from their sins we must be watchful and willing at all times to rescue the wanderers from their critical condition, constantly remembering that He has said, "Let the wicked forsake his way and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him, and to our God for he will abundantly pardon."
"When I was hungry ye gave me meat; when I was thirsty ye gave me drink; naked, and ye clothed me." Little did this noble-minded woman think that when she was entering her daily experience in her diary that her deeds of charity were to be brought to light after death. A story is told of Xenophon, the disciple of Socrates, that while offering a solemn sacrifice he heard that his eldest son was slain at Mantinea. He did not, however, desist, but only laid down his crown and asked how he had fallen. When he understood that his son had fallen in battle fighting bravely for his country, he calmly replaced the crown upon his head, calling the gods to witness that he received greater pleasure from the bravery of his son, than pain from his death. We do not, naturally speaking, like to lose our loved ones, but when we think of their bravery and fidelity, we feel disposed to praise God for them. O, what transcendent dignity and honor are conferred on the faithful at the hour of death. It seems there is a reciprocal response on earth to the acclamations of heaven perpetually ringing in the ears of the ransomed, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
The Church's loss is her gain. Still the deeds of mercy call forth praise. Let us ever remember that a holy and just and good God is treasuring up all our words of faith and labors of love against the great day of account—the day of recognition and remuneration. Pollock beautifully describes the man or woman like her of whom we write, a person of enlarged benevolence and liberality, as practically illustrated in the foregoing authentic record of Christian experience. He says:
"Breathe all thy minstrelsy, immortal harp!
Breathe numbers warm with love while I rehearse,
Delightful theme! remembering the songs
Which day and night are sung before the Lamb!
Thy praise, O Charity! thy labors most
Divine! thy sympathy with sighs, and tears,