A Scene of Real Life

 •  6 min. read  •  grade level: 5
A FRIEND of the writer was returning to London by train. He did not know that the races were being held in the town at which the train stopped, but at the station the sudden inburst of noisy, excited men, who in a moment filled up every seat in the carriages, and sat upon one another’s knees, opened his eyes to a not very pleasant prospect between Chelmsford and London.
The train was hardly leaving the station when the men next Mr. P. took out cards and began playing, and demanded that Mr. P. should be one of them. His refusal only made them more eager to get him to join them; but when he said, “I have told you twice that I will not; if you ask me again, I must tell you why I refuse,” their noisy demands made him speak.
“For two reasons I will not. The first, that if I were to play I should win every penny from all of you, for I never played cards or thimble rig without winning yet; the second, that I have not a farthing of my own with me.” To the first, they all shouted they were a match for him; to the second, they could not believe that a gentleman as he was had no money with him. “Well, for that matter, I have money with me,” said Mr. P., “silver, gold, and notes, but, I tell you, not a penny of it is mine—it all belongs to my Master, the Lord Jesus Christ.” This bold confession to the Name of Jesus fell like a thunderbolt amongst the noisy crew.
“Yes,” continued Mr. P., “all that I have belongs to my Master, for I am His. Listen to me. He bought me for Himself, He made me His own, and I am His forever. He paid for me with His blood; yes, the selfsame Jesus who now sits upon the right hand of God, once died upon the cross for sinners, such as you and I are. I would that you all loved Him.”
The silence that his words had gained was but brief. Presently it was broken by a very storm of awful language, in which it seemed that the ingenuity of man had almost exhausted itself in finding every possible way of expressing hatred to Jesus and to God. Having ended his horrible preface, the speaker said, “I am a Jew, and I hate your Jesus; you shall never speak of Him here.”
Again fell another silence, when the Jew, who was spokesman and ringleader, broke it by saying to Mr. P., “Come now, play cards with us.”
“Let the gentleman be,” said the others.
“Well, then, if you won’t play with us, we will sing with you,” the Jew said, “we will sing to your Jesus, and with that he bawled out, ‘Praise God from whom all blessings flow;’ and now, Christian, set the tune, and no nonsense, or you shall find it out.”
“That I never will,” said Mr. P., “it is straight against God’s Word.”
“Give us a text, then,” cried the Jew.
“I will, and from the Old Testament, too. Do you know your scriptures?” And it proved that the Jew knew the letter of the Old Testament marvelously well. “Well, then, here is the scripture; answer my question, Could the Jews blow the trumpets until after the sacrifice was accepted at the great day of atonement?”
“No,” said the man.
“And why not?” inquired Mr. P.
“It would have been a solemn mockery,” was his answer.
“You are right. And it would be a solemn mockery for me to sing God’s praises with you; for, alas! you are a set of unforgiven sinners, you are in your sins, you are none of you cleansed by Christ’s blood, your guilt is upon you. No; there shall be no praise from your lips led by me until you know the value of the atonement of Jesus. And by God’s grace you may know this even now—I proclaim it to you now, each and all of you—by the blood of Jesus. Yes; just as you are, in your sins and wickedness. I tell you I was a worse man than any of you in the carriage, and God has pardoned my sins. Only trust in the atoning blood of Jesus, and we will worship God together.”
The tears were rolling down the cheeks of one of them.
“Sir,” said he, as he put his hand into his breast pocket, and drew out a clean pocket handkerchief, which he carefully unfolded and laid upon the floor of the carriage “sir, do kneel down and pray for us. What you say is all true. Oh! my mother taught it all to me when I was a child. You never were with such a lot of vile men before, sir.”
“If you kneel, down, I’ll blow your brains out!” cried another man from the compartment behind, jumping up and drawing out a pistol. “We have heard enough of this Jesus this evening.”
“Well, my man,” Mr. P. quietly said, “do you know that you can’t blow my brains out unless God let you? No Christian dies till his work is done; and if you were to shoot me, I tell you all that my spirit would go up straight to Jesus in heaven.”
Thereon the man sat down.
“Come now,” said the Jew, “we’ll be friends. Now then, Christian, you believe your Bible, and you have two coats on your back, so I shall have one of them.”
“Give me the text and you shall,” said Mr. R, “You know where it is, Christian.”
“No, I don’t,” replied Mr. P., “but the Bible does say, ‘He that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none’; but you have one, and it is as good as mine.”
“Well, you have me there,” said the Jew, “but I will have your umbrella, that I will, for I have not got one;” so saying he took it.
“Welcome to it, my friend, but remember this—I told you that all I had belonged to my Master, the Lord Jesus Christ; I warn you, you will have to give an account to Him for that umbrella.”
After a long, weary journey the heavily-laden train reached the ticket-collecting place outside Shoreditch station. “Give him back his umbrella,” said the men, and they handed it over to Mr. P. “No, I won’t have it like that,” said he, “just because you fear the guards and ticket collectors. No; you took it from the Lord Jesus Christ’s servant, and you are welcome to keep it; only remember that at the Day of Judgment you will have to answer to Him for it. And whenever you put it up to shelter you from the rain which He sends down from heaven, remember that Jesus Christ whom you despise is looking down upon you; He will never forget it.”
“Then,” cried the Jew, “take back your umbrella, sir; I would not have it for the world; I would not for any money have Jesus Christ looking down upon me like that; no, I would not.”
And thus Mr. P. was separated from his traveling companions, who will have to give an account to God for their reception or rejection of the gospel preached in the railway carriage as they came to London from the Chelmsford races.
H. F. W.