Bell, the Navvy

 •  3 min. read  •  grade level: 4
 
BELL was one of a gang of navvies engaged in making a new railway. He was uncouth and uncomely, but the Lord had in grace given him a heart to love Himself, and Bell was known as a Christian. Though he was not polished so highly as some, and did not hang so high in the belfry of life as many, Bell was true metal, and gave forth no uncertain sound. Some of his enemies said he was "a little cracked"; but, as they had not the ear for heavenly music, their opinion need not be noticed. Our friend the navvy seems to have been, like the warning sentinel of the rock, made for rough usage, and to give out its warning in the midst of wild breakers.
Of course, Bell, the navvy, met with persecution. One man in particular used to mock at him and his religion continually; but, as is often the case, God avenged His child, and punished the evil-doer in a way that cast solemnity over the whole gang.
One morning after Bell, in the fullness of his heart, had engaged in his "gospel talk" the scoffer ridiculed him, and roughly told him to keep out of his way. The wild, rough scoffer did not want Bell and his cant—not he; but within an hour how different it was!
The men were running truck-loads of ballast down the metals, and shooting them, to form an embankment. The rails were wet and greasy with recent rain, so that the wheels did not bite as usual. How it happened no one knew, but as one truck shot past, a cry of distress arose from someone just in front of it. It was none other than Bell's scoffing mate He had slipped. In vain did the poor fellow roll over and over to try and get clear; it was too late—the heavy load struck him, ran over him, and left him bleeding and mangled. His mates gathered round him, and were for taking him to the town infirmary close by.
“No," he said, "I'm dying; let me be." His eyes wandered round the group as if looking for some one.
“Where's Bell?" said he.
The man, who a few minutes before was the object of his scorn, was the very one he now most wished to see. Why not send for the skeptical mate who had laughed at the good old book? Ah! man, there is no comfort in the dying hour to be had from scoffers and skeptics; the Christian was the man wanted for dying moments.
With a longing heart Bell knelt over his prostrate mate and told him how Jesus had died to save.
“Look to Him, Jim; trust Him; He loves you. He waits to pardon. Believe Him," he pleaded.
Who shall say what passed in that hour of death? The Lord only knows.
There are many like that navvy. The servants of Jesus are despised by them, and, what is worse, the Lord Himself is rejected. They beseech Him to depart out of their coasts; but in trouble these very men will cry for the Saviour they sent away. "Acquaint now thyself with Him, and be at peace," lest He shall say to you, "Because I have called, and ye refused; I have stretched out My hand, and no man regarded ... I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear cometh; when your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind." (Prov. 1:24-28.) W. L.