Turning to this man the colporteur said quietly, “Does not death come into public-houses? Don’t people die in public-houses? Surely it is right to take the Word of God into any place where death comes, for ‘after death the judgment.’ ‘The blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, cleanseth us from all sin.’”
“Come, come, that’ll do. We don’t want none of that here,” said the landlord of the house.
“Very well, sir,” said the man respectfully, “but these gentlemen have not yet declined to hear me.”
This was true, and one of the men now came forward to look at the contents of the box. Another joined him.
“Have you any book that’ll teach a man how to get cured of drink?” asked one, who obviously stood greatly in need of such a book.
“Yes, I have. Here it is— The Author of the Sinner’s Friend; it is a memoir of the man who wrote a little book called The Sinner’s Friend,” said the colporteur, producing a thin booklet in paper cover, “but I’d recommend a Bible along with it, because the Bible tells of the sinner’s best friend, Jesus, and remember that without Him you can do nothing. He is God, and it is ‘God who giveth us the victory.’ You can’t do it by yourself, if you try ever so much.”
The man bought the booklet and a Testament. Before he left the place that colporteur had sold a fourpenny and a twopenny Testament, and several other religious works, beside distributing tracts gratuitously all round. (See Report of “The Christian Colportage Association for England,” 1879, page 12.)
“That’s what I call carryin’ the war into the enemy’s camp,” remarked one of the company, as the colporteur thanked them and went away.
“Come, let’s go,” said Aspel, rising abruptly and draining his glass of ginger-beer.
Bones followed his example. They went out and overtook the colporteur.