IT was a cold and stormy winter day, and the streets of Paris were almost deserted in the neighborhood of the hall where the preacher watched in vain for the congregation which, in general, filled the seats at that hour. Was there to be no word spoken for the Saviour that Lord’s day afternoon? he questioned sadly with himself.
Presently, an old woman came in, and sat down; then a younger one followed, and tic one else! Mr. H. was almost ready to suggest that they should walk home together and talk as they went along. He felt, for a moment, as if he could not preach to only two women; but after silently lifting his head in prayer, he realized that the Lord meant him to do the best he could for those whom He had sent. He proceeded, therefor; to hold the meeting just as though the hall were crowded; prayed, sang, read and expounded the Word of God, and at the end of the time prayerfully dismissed the little company.
When he reached home, however, it was a sad tale of disappointment that he poured into his wife’s ear. She was full of regrets and sympathy, and bemoaned with him the “lost day,” which they both sorrowfully pronounced it to have been.
Three days later came a letter from the old woman, saying that she had, with some difficulty, discovered Mr. H.’s address in the great directory of the city, and now wrote to entreat him to visit her son, dying of consumption, and to read to him the comforting chapter she had heard in the hall last Sunday, about the home in a better land. She enclosed a few stamps to pay the expenses of the little journey.
Mr. H. began to think that after all it had not been so “lost” a day as he had at first concluded, and at once set off to visit the dying man. He found him very feeble, and evidently not long for this world, yet as soon as it was understood that his visitor had come to speak of God, he ordered him excitedly from the room.
“I have refused to see anyone in the shape of a priest, and will not allow you to talk of religion to me,” he cried, with surprising energy.
“Then I will leave you,” answered Mr. H., “but it was at your mother’s request I came, and I would only remind you that a mother’s wish is ever a sacred thing to her child.”
“Oh! then, sit down and talk, if my mother wishes it,” said the invalid, not over-cordially.
So they talked of politics, of the state of France, of General Boulanger, and at length the preacher arose, saying he would wish him good-bye.
“Monsieur will come again someday?” said the sick man politely.
“Oh! no,” answered Mr. H, “I will not come again. It is not in the least amusing to me to talk about General Boulanger, and the state of the country.”
“Then may I ask your object in coming today?”
“I came to read the Scriptures to you,” answered the preacher. “Your mother hoped you would listen to the chapter in the gospels that had so struck her.”
“Oh! if that’s it, read it, then, I pray of you.”
Whereupon Mr. H. sat down again, and, opening his Bible, read the fourteenth chapter of John. Wonderful it was to mark the varying expression on the invalid’s face, while the gracious words of Christ fell upon his ear-deepest interest, amaze and awe, and even worship succeeding one another.
In a very different manner from the first, he again begged his visitor would return, and cordially did his new friend promise to do so. Many quiet and blessed hours did they pass together after that, over the Word of God; and the poor sufferer gradually learned the love and grace of the Lord Jesus, and, owning his deep need and many sins, he came to Him, and found peace and pardon, and life everlasting.
But Mr. H. noticed that the full joy of the child of God was lacking, and that while they spoke together of heavenly things, a shadow fell again and again across the face of the invalid. At length the secret of his distress came out, “When I was still strong and well,” he said, “still without God and without hope, I belonged to a band of freethinkers. The president of our society obliged each one of us to sign a paper by which we gave over our bodies at our death, to be buried by civil law. It grieves me sadly now to think that, though I am a believer in the Lord Jesus, yet when I depart, to be with Christ, infidels will seize on my body, and bury me as though I were one of them.
“I will appeal to the president immediately, to let you withdraw your signature,” said his friend.
“You may do so, but you will find it of no avail,” answered the sick man sadly. And he was not mistaken. The president positively refused Mr. H.’s request, saying it was always so when a man was dying, friends got round him and persuaded him into a religion which he had abhorred when in health.
Not many hours later the sick man died. And, just as he had feared, the infidel society sent immediately to claim the rights of burying the body. In vain the poor mother with tears implored them to let her have Christian burial for her son. When the hour for the interment came, the whole band of freethinkers appeared, wearing immortelles in their button-holes, as is their wont, and waving infidel banners. Then Mr. H. stepped forward, and said: “Well, times change, and the priests have no longer the power to seize the bodies of our loved ones, and bury them contrary to our feelings. But however much times change, we seem to gain nothing; for now, instead of the priests, we have you gentlemen, who carry off our dead and bury them in a way we object to.”
The head of the band evidently did not relish being put in the same category as the priests; after a short consultation with the rest, he agreed to give up their rights to the body, saying that they were willing that Mr. H. should take the burial service.
So the preacher, with the mother and all the band of infidels, set off for the cemetery; and there, at the grave side, he read the Scriptures, and spoke of the Saviour of sinners, and of the Christian’s hope, ere he committed the body to the grave to await the resurrection. The former comrades of the dead man stood round, in perfect decorum, giving the gravest attention to all that was said.
At the close of the little service, Mr. H. led the way to the hall nearby, and the whole party followed. A strange sight, such an audience, with their banners proclaiming their profession of infidelity, gathered to listen to the Word of God, and the earnest pleadings of His servant, as he pressed on them the deep need of their undying souls, and the reality of eternal judgment, and of everlasting joy, Eternity alone will tell how far any were helped to God in that service; but, as the infidel band passed out at its close, and left the preacher alone, his thoughts went back to the stormy Sunday, when, in that same hall, he had been so sorely disappointed at having but the two women to preach to. Bowing low in adoring praise before God, he owned how wonderfully and blessedly He had worked on that “lost day.” A. P. C.