“If you had a Bible here, we might read a chapter, verse about.”
He said dreamily, “There was once a Bible above yon press; if you can get up to it, you might find it there yet.”
Getting it, dusting it, and laying it on a small table which I drew near to the sofa on which we sat, we read there and then a chapter together. After this, I said, “Now, shall we pray?”
He replied heartily, “Yes.”
I having removed the little table, we kneeled down together at the sofa; and after a solemn pause, I whispered, “You pray first.”
He replied, “I curse, I cannot pray; would you have me curse God to His face?”
I answered, “You promised to do all that I asked; you must pray, or try to pray, and let me hear that you cannot.”
He said, “I cannot curse God on my knees; let me stand, and I will curse Him; I cannot pray.”
I gently held him on his knees, saying, “Just try to pray, and let me hear you cannot.”
Instantly he cried out, “O Lord, Thou knowest I cannot pray,” and was going to say something dreadful as he strove to rise up. But I just took the words he had uttered as if they had been my own, and continued the prayer, pleading for him and his dear ones as we knelt there together, till he showed that he was completely subdued and lying low at the feet of God. On rising from our knees he was manifestly greatly impressed, and I said,—