After this the Missionary passed through several other public-houses with varied success, and scattered much precious seed. As the evening was far advanced, he entered a large beer-shop, intending a final visit. About thirty men and women of the lower class were standing, many of them with their backs to the walls, as the landlord had removed the seats to prevent his customers staying too long. Upon glancing round, the visitor noticed a middle-aged man, whom he had not seen for several years, and inquired of him where he had been?
"To prison, for assault upon a woman," he replied. "I was committed for four years, and that wasn't much, as she will never get over it; and I'm out six months afore time with a ticket-of-leave; and it was the drink as made me do it, as I wouldn't hurt nobody."
"It's no use laying it to the drink," was the reply; "speak the truth, and say that it was your love of the drink,—your vice that led you to commit the crime. You may make excuse now, but the day is coming when you will be tried again for that and for every offence of your life, as we must all stand before the judgment seat of Christ; now mind, if you are condemned by that Judge there will be no escape from the prison of hell, to which you will be sent."
At the commencement of this conversation, the door swung open, and a man of a baser sort entered. He listened; but brought the conversation to a sudden close by clenching his fist, and with that malicious hiss which bad men have, he addressed the Missionary, and said, "What business has you in our shop, a-talking like that 'ere? for two pins I'd smash in your frontispiece."
The ticket-of-leave man frowned, and holding out his right arm with extended finger and thumb gave a peculiar jerk and exclaimed, "If you does I'll garotte you." And a woman, whose sister the visitor had placed in a reformatory, fearing that he would be injured, rushed before him with a half-scream. The rough, who was evidently astonished at the good feeling which existed between the Christian teacher and the persons of his own class, stepped back; but as the attention of the debased crowd in the bar was directed towards him, the visitor raised his hand and said loudly, "Never mind: I am not hurt. But it was just so hundreds of years ago, when the Saviour of the world was here. He used to feed hungry people, and heal the sick, and give eyesight to the blind; but there were men who smote Him with the fist of wickedness, and who cried out, 'Crucify Him, crucify Him,' and then they nailed Him to a cross." The speaker then dropped his voice to a solemn note, and continued, "Yes; and—
'It was for such as you He died,
For such that He was crucified,
For such He reigns above.'"
The effect was startling, as that congregation of the wicked stood in silent awe; while the landlord and his barmen leaned forward to listen. A few more earnest words were uttered, and the evangelist stepped out, wiping the perspiration from his brow. The rough at almost the same moment passed out at the other door, and approaching the Missionary, said, "I ax yer pardon, guv'nor; but I wouldn't 'urt a hair of your 'ed."
"I feel all right toward you, so never mind," was the kind reply, enforced with a friendly touch of the arm. "You sees, guv'nor," the rough continued, "as I am a bad un, as I had a month for beating my old woman, and its becos I ain't hedicated, cos if a chap ain't hedicated he's nuffin."
From this speech it was evident that the man had a desire for instruction, and the visitor felt that to impart this would give him a power which might lead to a moral and spiritual regeneration; he therefore inquired if he would like to know how to read and write?
"Oh, shouldn't I: that's all!"