liLEANlNGS IN HEE CULTURE. 



97 



Our Homes. 



Be thou faithful unto deatli, and I will give thee a 

 crown of life.— Rev. 3:10. 



I had just finislied a nice supper, Chrislmas 

 evening, and Itie neat and obliging waiter of the 

 pretty restaurant had marked the price " .3,5 cts." 

 on a slip of white paper. As I walked toward 

 the desk I put a half-dollar, as 1 supposed, with 

 the paper, and laid both on the counter, with- 

 out saying any thing. The clerk touchtd his 

 machine. It showed up 35 cis. all right; but 

 instead of handing me 15 cts. only, he gave me 

 o?iot/ier half-dollar with the 15. My first im- 

 pression was that I must have given him a 

 whole dollar instead of a half; but while I was 

 meditating on it the coins were in my hand, 

 and, being in a hurry, I passed out. Now, I 

 am going lo tell the truth about it, as near as I 

 can. While I was going out. self (or Satan) 

 suggested, "It is his own job, anyway; this 

 trip is costing you quite a good deal; every 

 half-dollar counts; you have got to be a little 

 saving." 



By the way, friends, Satan does get on a 

 saving mood sometimes. You will remember 

 his suggestion to Judas about bf^ing "saving." 

 The trouble is, he always advises saving money 

 that belongs to somebody besides his victim. I 

 was outdoors and had my hauos on my wheel; 

 but another anu far different voice was saying, 

 " You had better lose a hundred limes the 

 amount than wrong your neighbor, even if he 

 did make the blunder. How about your favor- 

 ite text, of 'being faithful unto death,' and 

 your teaching all along in that line ? " 



Then it occurred to me that he could prob- 

 ably tell, even yet, what it was I gave him. I 

 went back inside. 



" Sir, can you find the coin I gave you just 

 now when I paid for my supper?" 



He opened the drawer, snapped his fingers, 

 and colored up. 



"I declare, I thought you gave me a dollar; 

 but here is only .50 cts. in the box where the 

 dollar should be.' 



He thanked me very courteously, saying he 

 feared it was not every one who would take so 

 much pains to correct a blunder of his own 

 making; but I presume it didn't even occur to 

 him that I didn't correct it as soon as it was 

 made. How does it come that I am tried so 

 much in just this way? Is the great God 

 above trying me (and you too, my friend) every 

 now and then, to see if we are trying to be 

 '■ faithful to the end" in loving our neighbor 

 as ourself? If so, then let us see to it, dear 

 fellow-travelers, that we are not entrapped by 

 the great adversary. 



An hour later my ear caught the sound of 

 martial music. It was the Salvation Army. 

 As it was Christmas evening there were quite a 

 few on the streets, and quite a crowd collected 

 around them. A good many did not seem to 

 understand them. Most of them were smoking, 

 some had been drinking, and coarse talk and 

 many oaths were mingled with the beautiful 

 hymns that were being sung. They (the army- 

 workers) finally all knelt in the dusty street; 

 and while a woman was praying for the rough 

 crowd around, one fellow, more curious than 

 the rest, pushed through the circle and came 

 close up to the one who was praying. He look- 

 ed first at the crowd outside, whom he could 

 understand, then at the little flock on their 

 knees whom he could not understand. Let me 

 digress a little rieht here: -''-' 



During all my life— that is, all my Christian 

 life— I have longed for something or somebody 

 who could bridge the gulf between the hard un- 



believing world and true, honest, earnest 

 ChristLa7is, and make the scoffers comprehend 

 what Christianity really is. It wants grace— 

 oh such an amountof grace! toenable believers 

 and unbelievers to even converse together in a 

 neighborly way. Let us consider the scene I 

 have pictured. This stranger stands leaning 

 over the woman on her knees, looking down up- 

 on her, probably in pity. He has taken his cigar 

 out of his mouth; and while he puff's a cloud of 

 smoke all over those on their knees, even into 

 their very faces, he looks round inquiringly. I 

 think I can understand the look. To me it 

 seemed as if he were saying: 



"Why! what are these blank idiots up to, 

 anyway? What is their game?" 



The prayer did not attract so many; but 

 when the captain stepped on a chair, and sang 

 one of the sweetest hymns I ever heard, ac- 

 companying it with a guitar, they all came 

 thronging back. All at once I was startled by 

 most horrid oaths right at my elbow, and in a 

 woman's voice. Omitting the oaths, she said: 



"They lie. every one of them. They ain't 

 a bit better than I am." 



I came pretty near smiling at this, for it 

 seemed a little as if she was, to use a slang 

 phrase, " giving herself away." She resumed, 

 "They won't hold out, any way; see if every 

 one in the lot don't go back, before next Christ- 

 mas."* 



Oh how I did pray inwardly for God's grace 

 to be poured out on that little band, and that 

 thev might have the Holy Spirit as on the day 

 of P<'ntecost, so that all that hard crowd might 

 hear the gospel explained in a tongue they 

 could understand and comprehend. My prayer 

 seemed answered. The woman s fling was 

 taken up. First one ana then another replied 

 in substance: 



" Watch us and see if we don't hold out." 

 " We want to be watched." " Some of us have 

 been in the blessed work for many vears. We 

 appeal to the crowd. Have any of you ever 

 known a crooked thing in our past record?" 

 No one answered, and then a new recruit took 

 the stand. His testimony was something as 

 follows: 



"Friends, this is the first Christmas that I 

 have passed, as a sober man, for 25 years. Just 

 a year ago to night, I, with a few of the same 

 sort, were engaged in ' painting the town red.' 

 Last June my friends had all given me up; I 

 had given myself up; but these friends here 

 picked me out of the gutter, told me of Christ 

 Jesus, and here I am, by the grace of God." 



Even after this, several voices from the crowd 

 declared he wouldn't "hold out." "Boys," 

 said he, "many of you know me. Is it not 

 true that 1 have been a drinking and profane 

 man for 25 years ? ' 



Many answered. " You are telling the truth 

 now, Jim." " We'll back up that statement." 



" Well, has any one of you known of my 

 drinking a drop since these good people lifted 

 me up and had compassion on me ? " 



Not a voice answered. 



After this converted man had finished speak- 

 ing, one of the officers of the army arose and 

 spoke something like this: 



" Friends, this man tells you that, one year 

 ago to-night, he helped to ' paint the town red.' 

 He did not add, bat I will do it for him, that 

 to-night he is helping to wash the town white 

 —not whitewashing, mind you. The Salvation 

 Army does not deal in whitewash— we have no 

 use for it; but he, with the rest of us, are try- 



* This woman's talk made me think of the words, 

 "And, behold, they cried out, sajMng, Wha' have 

 we to do with thee, Jesu.=, thou Son of God? art 

 thou come hither to torment us before the time ? 



