“Yes, my son,” said Alfred’s papa, “it was very wonderful: and I read a story yesterday that was something like it, although it was not in the Bible.”
“Dear father,” said Alfred, “will you tell it to me?”
“Yes, if you will bring your chair beside me, and sit very still.
“There was once a good man named Pierre Merlin. He was a pious minister; and the Roman Catholics hated him, because he preached doctrines which the Bible teaches, but which they do not like.
“At one time, the Roman Catholics, in France, determined to murder all who did not belong to their church. They did murder many hundred pious persons, on a night which was called St. Bartholomew’s Eve. They would have killed good Pierre Merlin, but he jumped out of a window, and thus got away from those wicked people. It was dark, and he ran on, on, on; expecting every minute to be caught. Then he came to a hay-stack. Quite out of breath, he hid himself in this friendly place, which seemed set there to be to him what the city of refuge was to the Israelites, when they ran for their life. He thanked God for his mercy to him. He could not lie down in that narrow place, and he was very tired; yet, nestled in the hay, he slept in peace, for the Lord sustained him.
“The morning came, gray, still, and misty. The little birds began to twitter, and the poultry around awoke, and shook their wings, and smoothed their feathers, and sent out their long, loud cry of welcome to the opening day. Then golden colors painted the eastern sky; and, at last, the bright, red sun rose to spread his gracious rays over the awakening earth.
“Pierre Merlin gladly, yet sorrowfully, looked at the sun. Since it had last risen many of God’s dear saints had been cruelly murdered. Some of his own friends were among the number. This thought made him weep.
“Do you think, my dear children, that Merlin wished any evil to those people who had been so cruel to him, and to his friends? No, for he was a Christian. Like Jesus, he said, ‘Father, forgive them! They know not what they do.’
“I said that gladly, as well as sorrowfully, this good minister looked at the sun. Though he was sorry for the wickedness of his enemies, and for the death of his friends, he was yet glad that his life was saved. He thought that he might yet preach the gospel of Christ.
“He knew that his enemies were all around, looking for him; for he had heard his name mentioned by them with loud curses. He dared not venture from his hiding-place; although, as the morning advanced, he became faint and hungry. He thought he should perish with hunger if he remained there many days. But he continued praying to God, and did not fail to put his trust in him.