The fourth compartment was crowded with persons of the degraded and disorderly class, and it was evident that several men in one corner were excited with liquor. In the centre was a large barrel, and round it stood three women. One of them had turned a quart pot upside down upon the barrel, and had seated her little child, about a year old, upon it. She called for "a quartern and three outs" (three glasses to divide the liquor), when the Missionary, who felt the difficulty of securing the attention of such a people, approached with the exclamation: "Why, what do you think? When the Saviour of the world was here, He took a little child, a pretty little dear like that, and sat it in the midst of His disciples, and said, 'Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.'"
"Did He, sir?" exclaimed several.
"Yes: He did," was the reply; "and if you will listen to me I will tell you what He meant."
At this the people gathered round the barrel, and the speaker, taking the tiny hand in his, continued: "There is no mistake about the love of a little darling like this. When it throws its arms around your neck you know it's real love" ("That it is," said the mother, giving the child a hug); "and the Saviour meant that we men and women, who are children of the great Father in heaven, ought to love Him with all our hearts, and do His holy will. Now I don't think that we all do this."
"I should think not," said a man with a coarse laugh. "If we did, we shouldn't be a-getting drunk in here on a Sunday night."
"You are right," replied the visitor. "You are not like this pretty child; you are bad children, and must, as Jesus said, be converted. The great Father loves you, and sent His Son to tell you how to be made good, and to die for your sins." Other words of exhortation were being uttered, when the address was brought to a close by another group of persons pressing into the bar.
This consisted of an old woman, and three young men of the genus rough. The woman, who had been crying, and who had new weeds upon her head, was reluctant to enter, as one of the men said to her, "Never mind, mother; it's what we are all a-comin' to. He was a good un, as respected was everywhere. Come in and have a drop of rum."
"And have you been," inquired the Missionary, "to bury the husband and the father?"
"Yes, sir," replied the widow, sobbing. "We was married forty-two years, and it's his first night in the cold grave, and I'm so miserable, and my boys has brought me to give me some rum;" and then she sobbed so deeply that the people looked at her with pity.
"Don't touch the rum," said the visitor, "but let me go home with you and read from this blessed Book the comforting words which the merciful God has said to widows;" and then they stepped out of the bar, the sons following. They entered a house a few doors further on, and descended to the back kitchen, which was dismal, and almost without furniture. Taking a seat on the edge of the bedstead, the visitor read the account of the widow of Zarephath, and such Scriptures as "The Lord relieveth the fatherless and widow;" "Let thy widows trust in Me;" and then explained to her the meaning of being "a widow indeed." The young men were deeply interested, but when prayer was offered they stood up awkwardly, though the mother knelt; it was evident that they had never bent the knee in supplication. After more words of sympathy the widow was left much comforted, and with the promise of another visit.