# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1910_S61
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

The Lutheran Pioneer.

61

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ares, and thought of St. Paul at Athens, how ‘his
spirit was stirred in him when he saw the city
wholly given to idolatry.’ ”

—_———-+—___—-

The Infidel Silenced.

A young American, who was suffering with
spinal disease, which had crippled and pained him
from his birth, had been traveling in the far East
for his health. On his way back home he stopped
for a time in Switzerland on the shores of Lake
Geneva, where he was met by an American pastor
who was spending the summer there for his health
and from whom we heard the young man’s story
many years ago. He told us that he enjoyed many
a delightful hour in communion with the young
invalid, as he was a believing child of God, patient
in his sore affliction and contented with the ways
and dealings of his heavenly Father. His pale face,
and shrunken limbs, and curved back, showed the
agony he had endured, yet he was happy in the full
assurance of his Savior’s love.

On one occasion the young man went for a.day’s
change to the town of Bex, a place to which many
travelers gathered on entering or leaving Italy.
He was seated at a table in a large dining-room
with a number of travelers, when his attention was
called to the loud remarks of a tall, robust, and
handsome man. He soon learned that the remarks
were directed with many a shaft of ridicule and
wit against the Bible. The infidel, having finished
his dinner, was in the act of leaving the room, when
the young American said to him gently, “May I
detain you a moment?”

“Certainly,” was the.kind reply, as the stranger
glanced at the sickly youth, not knowing what he
wanted.

“T only wish,” said the Christian, with his weak
and plaintive voice, “to tell you briefly my history.
I was born in the United States of America, and
have always been in my body as you see me now,
only worse. My father died when I was still a
child, and there was no one to love me or care for
me but my mother. I had no childhood, but when
the boys were playing and shouting in the streets,
I was lying in a darkened room, moaning with:pain.
Under God I owe my life from day to day to the
untiring tenderness and watchfulness of that mother.
When I had struggled on to. the age of a young
man, she thought that a visit to the Holy Land,
which I had so longed to see, would interest me and

might possibly benefit my health. We reached Pales-
tine in safety, but there my mother was suddenly
taken with fever, and was laid away in the grave,
and now I am on my way home to die, too. The
only joy left me on earth is the hope of meeting my
mother again with Jesus, in heaven. Would you
take that joy from me?”

“No, no,” said the infidel, while the tears ran
down his face, “I would not. Keep your hope and
your joy, and I beg your pardon for having said
a word to wound you.”

“Oh,” said the Christian, “thank God, you can-
not take away my comfort.” And then placing his
hand on his heart he added: “I know here how
precious Christ is, and how true is His Word; but
to-day you have poisoned the minds of some of
these young men, who have listened to your cruel
harangue against the Bible. You are strong now
and do not feel your need of God, but there may
come a change for you;. and these young men may
also come very soon to sorrow and temptation and

death; and you have done all you can to take away

from them their only shelter and support in the
hour of need.” :

The powerful man stood for a moment silent
and humbled before the pale youth, and then said
solemnly, “I was wrong, and deserve your reproof.
Never again will I speak in the presence of others
as I did to-day.” ‘Then, taking the hand of the
Christian, he left the room. The bravery of the
infidel was shaken by the words of that noble Chris-
tian young man who had experienced in his own
heart the truth of the Bible, the eternal Word of God.

Thankful for Reproof.

A traveling missionary lodged one night at a
public house, where there were many guests. In
the evening a man came in and gave an account of
some rather striking event, using many oaths and
profane expressions.

The missionary, after hearing him for some time,
turned to him and said, “Sir, you are a stranger to
me, but you appear to be a person of intelligence;
and I should be willing to take your word without
an oath, and I think the rest of the company would
likewise.”

The man immediately apologized, and said that
his mother had taught him better, and that he was
ashamed ‘of himself for using such language. He
also thanked the stranger for having reproved him.