A Discouraged One Revived.
Mr. C----, walking home one Saturday afternoon, fell into a discouraged train of thought because he appeared to have done so little for the Master that whole week. At that moment a young man took him by the hand saying-- "You do not know me, but I know you. A few weeks ago I was on the high road to destruction, but now through your instrumentality I am in the narrow path which leads to everlasting life. I attended your prayer-meeting one evening in company with a friend of mine. You spoke with great earnestness, and after we sang the last hymn you remarked, 'How can I bless whom God has cursed? For he declares, If any man love not the Lord, he shall be accursed.' I cannot describe my sensations. For several days I could find no peace, but when at last my faith rested on Jesus, I found that peace which flows like a river; and now, like Moses, I have chosen rather to suffer affliction with the children of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin, for I know if I have to face any trouble on account of my religion, I can look forward to a glorious reward."
The Prisoner Loosed.
On the third floor of a tenement house, a missionary, Mr. B., found a comely, intelligent young English woman in great distress. Her heart seemed wrung by grief. A few kind words of sympathy drew from her the story of her woe. She came to this country with her husband and three young children. He was employed as book-keeper in a large mercantile house; but soon became addicted to drink, and the story is ever the same; loss of position, poverty, disgrace, suffering and recklessness. On the day of the missionary's visit, he was in a prison cell, committed as a vagrant and common drunkard. The wife was bitterly weeping in her cheerless home, and the children around her fretting with hunger. Mr. B. was so touched he could scarcely find words with which to console her, but turned to Isaiah and read, "For thy maker is thy husband; the Lord of Hosts is his name." "For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee." After his prayer, she felt calmer, and entreated him to come the next week, on the day her husband would be released. He complied; found a prepossessing and cultivated man; and upon telling him how earnestly his wife and himself had prayed for him, was rejoiced to learn that in that lonesome cell the Spirit of God had visited him, filled him with a sincere wish to reform the future and redeem the past. The missionary called again and again, and witnessed the strong determination of the young man to fight against his pernicious habit. He was soon employed again in a large house, became a regular attendant at the Lord's house, and began to pray both publicly and privately for help from on high. Only a few months, and both husband and wife united with a church and became teachers in the Sabbath school. Their own home, once laid waste, again blossomed like the rose.
Praying for Tea.
On a top floor in a street of tenements lives a colored woman one hundred and ten years old! Her son, a man over seventy, lost his wife, a neat, active Christian woman, very suddenly, and his aged mother was plunged in despairing grief. "Why, why was I left, old and rheumatic and useless, and Mary, a smart, busy, capable woman taken away without a minute's warning?" was her continual cry. But the son was left desolate, and the two rooms were to be kept clean, the meals provided before he left for his work in the morning, and after his work at night; there was no one else to do it, and love for him called out new effort. With cane in one hand she treads the rooms back and forth, performing the household duties. Eyes undimmed, faculties unimpaired, she does what she can. Upon receiving a call a few months after the death of her daughter-in-law, she said--"You've brought me a whole pound of that nice tea! Well, honey, I asked the Lord for some good tea last night, and I knowed well enough it would be along some time to-day, cos He never keeps me waiting long. I found out why he took Mary instead of me; old as I was, I wasn't half so fit to go, and he was so full of mercy he let me stay long enough to see it! You know, honey, I've got no one to talk over old times with. There ain't none of 'em left that I was young with, and not many I was old with; but I'm never lonesome, for I'm too busy thinking of all the Lord's watching and waiting for me. I'm dreadful little use, but my son couldn't get along very well without me, and then I tell you I'm so busy thinking, I ain't got any time to be lazy or lonesome. Good many little things we want, too, and I have to be runnin' to the Lord for 'em."
"Do they come every time, auntie?", "Every single time, honey! He never fails, no matter who else does. He knows I don't ask for no nonsense; only for the things we really need, and he has promised them all the time." "But, are there not times, auntie, for instance, when your son is sick, when you cannot see where rent and food is coming from?" "Don't want to see, honey! What's the use seein'? Believin's the thing! Believin's better than money." And so, all the revolving months, this relic of the last century walks by faith in the unseen.
Giving Her Last Dollar To The Lord.
A poor woman, sitting in a little church, heard the minister make an urgent appeal for money enough to pay a debt of two hundred dollars, contracted by the church the previous Winter. She had one dollar in her pocket; half drew it out; thought of the improbability of having any more for several days; put it back. Thought again, "Trust in the Lord for more;" drew it wholly out, and deposited it in the basket. The next morning, a lady called to settle a bill of two dollars, so long unpaid that it was, long before, set down among the losses.