Policeman: "You make too much of your favourite doctrine of election. Our Lord died for all who ever lived or shall live in the world; and it is written that it is not the will of God that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance."
"Both doctrines are plainly taught in the Divine Word," remarked the stranger; "and, like the colours in the rainbow, they harmonize and blend over the throne where Jesus is seated. We do well to seek for the full assurance of faith, and to rejoice in the sure covenant; but while doing so let us witness for the Lord who bought us, and try to win others by testifying of His abounding grace."
With a happy smile the policemen recommenced his weary walk round the beat, while the stall-keeper and the night-visitor had pleasant converse about the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, which hath appeared unto all men. This led to a friendship with the stall-keeper, who was a Cornish man and a Calvinistic Baptist; and to a slight acquaintance with the policeman, who was a Congregationalist. Several visits were paid to the "Coffee Man," as he was called, and work was appointed him in the great vineyard. He was supplied with tracts, which he kept in his cupboard, and for several years he was a valuable distributor. Groups of depraved people, who "make night hideous," used to surround his stall; to these he gave tracts, and spoke the truth boldly. He indeed became a kind of spiritual adviser to the depraved. Many repentant ones spoke with confidence to the good old man, and several were sent by him to his friend, and were placed in institutions of mercy.
This was not a solitary instance of converted men being found in night occupations; and it became an object of the visitor's efforts to strengthen such in the faith, and to lead them boldly to witness for their Lord in the midst of the ungodly. These helpers were precious and their testimony valuable, because the great body of persons met with were disreputable or utterly vile. Many were ignorant of the true light, but there were others who had received religious advantages, and who, by rejecting proffered mercy, counted themselves unworthy of eternal life. Among this mass of the unholy were to be found the young, the thoughtless, and the distressed, who being easily led captive by the devil and his servants, supplied the places of those who were constantly sinking to perdition. With some of these the work was effectual for good, as the following case will illustrate.
One night, a little after eleven, the Missionary was walking down Oxford Street, in company with another evangelist, when they passed a girl of seventeen, who was walking slowly, as if ill. The night visitor glanced at her, and was struck by the expression of misery and disease,—it seemed as though the sorrows of a life had been concentrated in that young face. He therefore turned suddenly, and approaching her, said kindly, "Don't be afraid: I am a religious man, and a friend to poor girls in trouble. Now do tell me where you are going?"
"To sleep under the trees in the park, sir, if I can get in," she replied; "if not, to walk about all night;" and then she burst into tears.
In answer to inquiries, she made the following statement, in a very truthful manner. She said, "I am a village girl, and came from home after losing my only parent about eighteen months ago. A neighbour's girl who was in London got me a place. It was at a lodging-house: and I rarely got out, as they only let me go to church three times. All the stairs were of stone, and I had to clean them; this, with constant running up and down, brought on a white swelling in my knee. I remained as long as I could crawl, and then, as I had saved three pounds, went to live with the charwoman. After a time I went into an hospital for two months. I returned to the charwoman, and tried to get into place, but I looked so ill that no one would engage me. After the money was spent I pawned my clothes, and I was told to go to the workhouse. I went to the door, but the man spoke so sharp to me that I drew back, and now I have been in the streets for two days. Last night I slept with some other girls under the trees in Hyde Park, but they talked so dreadful that I am afraid to go in again. Oh! what shall I do?" and then she sobbed so loudly that several persons crossed from the other side of the street.
"If your tale is true, I will provide for you," said her interrogator: "at all events I will see that you are taken care of to-night." He then took her to a coffee-house, where he was known, and paid for a supper, bed, and breakfast. At leaving, he took an envelope from his pocket, and tearing it, gave her one-half, and said, "Stand with this in your hand near the fountain in Regent's Circus to-morrow morning at ten o'clock, when a lady with the other half will speak to you, and take you to a Home."
At the appointed time the poor girl approached the fountain, where a matron of the Rescue Society was waiting to receive her. As soon as she reached the Home her statements were inquired into, and found to be correct. Care and proper treatment soon restored her to health, and a lady received her into her service. Three months after the lady called at the office to thank the secretary for sending her such a good servant. She remained in her place several years, and gave evidence of real gratitude for the great deliverance which had been wrought out for her.
