He was a cynic, without faith in anything or anyone but himself. Like many other men of his age (which was near forty), he had found life in the army anything but congenial. His character was strong enough to bear its hardships and dangers with stoical indifference; but about anything else in the service, especially the religious element as expressed in "church parade," he was severely scornful.
Coming behind the lines for a brief rest, he dropped into the big "Y Hut," as we in the army called it, and for once at least he heard the gospel preached by as manly and as moving a preacher as ever faced a congregation of men, and one whose character was as fine as his preaching. For other reasons besides his easy influence on the large company of men, we had invested him with the honorary title of "General.”
At the close of the meeting, the cynic greeted the preacher and congratulated him on what he called "an interesting performance." He said, "But all this talk, clever as it may be, is nothing more than an appeal to the weak side of human nature. It is not sensational―but it is emotional, a subtle playing on the feelings with the trip hammers of sin and the need of repentance. So far as I am concerned, I deny the stain of the one and necessity of the other. There is no sin in my life I need repent of. I have always paid an honest part and done my duty as a man. Why then should I go down on my knees and pretend to be what you call a sinner?”
Much more was said and replied to, but all was apparently fruitless. The next day this continued―the skeptical soldier maintained he had no need of a Savior, and thought he was better off without any kind of religion. Nevertheless, he stayed in the "Hut" for the evening meeting and heard the same preacher. Probably it was the hope of hearing him again for the mere intellectual treat.
Later the "General" confessed that somehow that night he wandered from his subject and told an incident in his own experience which was altogether off the line of his subject and he could not understand why he told it. It was simply that in his early Christian life he determined to model his character as faithfully as he could after the pattern set by the one who had been used to his conversion. One of his sons hearing this, said: "Father, I shall try to model my life so that it shall be like yours.”
As the preacher left the platform, the cynic was waiting and said, "May I see you alone for a minute or two?”
"Gladly, my friend, if I can be of any help to you," he said. "Come into my room.”
In the quiet of that little room the cynic at once opened his heart.
"That story about your boy," he began falteringly, "has hit me hard. It struck home. I asked myself if I would like my boy to model his life on mine―to grow up to be the type of man I am. Everything in me cried, `NOV I wouldn't have him follow my example for the world! Follow my example? No! No! I have talked to you in a mask. I have disguised myself. If you could see the man I am―God help me!”
He dropped upon his knees and wept like a child. Kneeling beside him, my friend prayed and pointed him to the Savior and all the promises of a Savior's grace. The broken man's penitent cry was heard at the throne of grace and his acceptance of Jesus Christ as Lord was registered in heaven. The preacher left him on his knees, and half an hour later found him still there praying for God's help and peace from the Savior of sinners, that his life might now be so lived that his boy might safely follow in his steps.