278 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



July 



As soon as lie began to read, S- 



-'s face 

 began to brighten, and when I asked if he 

 was familiar with the passage, he said it 

 was one that Moody quoted in Ins book. He 

 had learned to love the Bible through read- 

 ing Moody's way of explaining it. I went 

 in again in a few days, and found he had 

 finished Moody's book, and taken the Bible, 

 which had become his almost constant com- 

 panion. While the minister was with us, 

 he had been asked to take part in prayer, 

 but replied he could not just yet. On this 

 occasion, after I had talked freely with him 

 in regard to prayer, and told him one who 

 was truly penitent need have no fear in 

 kneeling to God and telling him all about it, 

 he knelt with me, and, in Ins own language, 

 asked God to help him to be a better boy 

 henceforth, and promised to go to the peni- 

 tentiary willingly, if it was His will. In Ins 

 prayer, he also spoke of his former life, his 

 conduct and associations. While kneeling 

 there, I was most deeply impressed with the 

 powerful argument right there before me, 

 for the divine nature of the Bible this boy 

 had been studying. Could any skeptic or 

 infidel listen to that humble prayer, without 

 a conviction that it was God's work and 

 none other that had brought him there on 

 his knees, in that humble and repentant at- 

 titude. It needed no stretch of the imagin- 

 ation to believe that the angels in Heaven 

 were rejoicing over this one sinner brought 

 to repentance. Some familiar lines of my 

 childhood floated like a strain of forgotten 

 music through my mind, and I afterward 

 recalled to mind where 1 had seen them, and 

 will give you the lines here. It was a poem 

 by -lane Taylor, entitled '.The Philosopher's 

 Scales, ,n and found in one of our old school 

 readers. In the middle of the tilth verse, 

 occur these lines : 



"As a weight he threw in a torn scrap of a leaf, 

 Containing the prayer of a penitent thief." 



Full well did I realize then, that there was 

 more weight before Cod and the angels 

 in Heaven, in that simple prayer of that un- 

 tutored child of neglect, than' in all the wis- 

 dom or witticisms ever uttered by the devo- 

 tees of learning and wealth. Scoffers might 

 have ttrged that he would not hold out, but 

 that is not the question ; the young man was 

 on the right track then, and it was the spirit 

 of our Savior who suffered on the cross, that 

 shone in his eyes as he rose up. Knowing 

 him from his' past history, as he had given 

 it to me, I feared that he might not hold out, 

 and I feared the influence of his old com- 

 panions with whom he had been so long fa- 

 miliar. If he could be kept away from 

 them, if he could read none but good books. 

 and have an encouraging word now and 

 then, I had but little to fear, for his Savior 

 would finish the work so well begun. But a 

 few days passed, before a halt dozen saloon 

 keepers were arrested for liquor selling, and 

 were put into the same room with our friend 



S . When I next called, a group of 



these hard men sat around him, while 



S himself was perched on the table 



playing on a violin. Tobacco and cards 

 were strewn on the table, and so much loud 

 talking was going on, it was with difficulty 

 one could make himself heard. Now came 



the test. Would he brave the ridicule of 

 his old companions gathered about him, and 

 greet me in the frank and joyous way he 

 had been doing, or would he, before them, 

 think it best not to mention or indicate that 

 he had resolved on a new life, at all? As 

 with many an old professor of religion un- 

 der similar circumstances, his courage failed 

 him, and he kept on fiddling as though the 

 minister and I were on an errand to see 

 some body else, and were entirely unknown 



to him. Boor S ! he had not as yet 



learned to feel, that if Cod is with us, it 

 matters not if all the world be against us. 

 I had brought in a hook which contained a 

 hymn I had been telling him about, and the 

 minister and I asked permission to sing it. 

 At first, they seemed inclined to drown us 

 with their loud talking ; but, finally, they 

 were tolerably quiet. When my companion 

 asked to have a brief season of prayer be- 

 fore leaving, they assented, but a couple of 

 them — one of whom was a visitor — picked 

 up their cards, and prepared to engage in a 

 game during the prayer. The sheriff, who 

 was with us. here interposed, and told them 

 he thought they could afford to give their 

 attention tor a few minutes, at least. We 



talked a little with S , but as he seemed 



rather unwilling to talk, we soon left. Af- 

 ter I had got part way home, it occurred to 

 me, that I had forgotten my book. 



A few days later, I was passing in that 

 part of the town one evening, when I heard 

 some beautiful singing from a company of 

 male voices. I could not imagine where it 

 came from, and finally forgot about it. 



By the next Sabbath, S • had been 



taken to the penitentiary. Before he went, 

 however, I had a long talk with him, and he 

 promised me to hold on to the Bible, and to 

 be cheerful and say, "Thy will be done." 

 On this. Sabbath morning, as I went at 10 

 o'clock, my usual hour, I found their usual 

 gathering place deserted. I sat down awhile, 

 but no one came near. Finally, I went 

 round to their cells, and inquired if they 

 were not going out to the Bible class. The 

 first one was not feeling well, and preferred 

 to remain on his bed; the next was sleepy, 

 not having slept the night before ; the third 

 could not read English, and so he thought 

 he \\ould be of no use in a Bible class ; and 

 so on with the whole number. It really 

 seemed as if there was nothing more to do, 

 but to give up having a class, for this morn- 

 ing at least. I knew if I once failed, it 

 would leave the door open for future fail- 

 ures, and I could not bear the thought of 

 going away without doing something for the 

 cause. I sat down by the table where, dur- 

 ing the few years past I had talked with so 

 many, and heard so many sorrows and 

 troubles, and prayed that the same guiding 

 Presence would guide me still. I opened a 

 little hymn book, and commenced to sing 

 "Light in the darkness sailor," praying 

 mentally at every word, that it might get a 

 hold on some of those men. Before the 

 first verse was finished, my German friend 

 came round, sat down, and by a beautiful 

 bass accompaniment, showed that he could 

 sing that hymn witbout any book. I felt 

 encouraged ; and before the next verse was 



