The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1899, Page 43

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The Lutheran Pioneer. 43

God Seen in All His Works. My Bible. member, and that he had never looked upon
7 religion but to despise it. But it was not so.

A noble and gentle-hearted man came to
see the dying soldier. He addressed him with
kind inquiries, talked to him tenderly of the
life beyond death, and offered spiritual coun-
sel. But the sick man paid no attention or re-
spect. He bluntly told him that he did not
want any religious conversation.

“You will let me pray with you, will you
not ?’’ said the man at length. ‘‘No; I know
how to die without the help of religion.”” And
he turned his face to the wall.

Further conversation could do no good, and
the man did not attempt it. But he was not
discouraged. After a moment’s silence he be-
gan to sing the old hymn, so familiar and so
dear to every congregation in Scotland:

“Oh, mother dear Jerusalem,
When shall I come to thee ?”

The late Doctor Tyng, of Philadelphia,
says: ‘‘I once called to visit a dying lady in
this city ; I had knelt often in prayer with her.
Her husband was an atheist, an English atheist,
a cold-hearted, English atheist. There is no
such being beside him on the face of the globe.
That was her husband. On the day on which
that sweet Christian woman died, she put her
hand under her pillow, and took out a little,
beautiful, well worn, tear-moistened Bible.
She called her husband, and he came, and she
said, ‘Do you know this little book?’ And he
answered, ‘It is your Bible.’ And she re-
plied: ‘It is my Bible; it has been every-
thing to me; it has converted, strengthened,
cheered and saved me; now I am going to
Him who gave it to me, and I shall want it
no more; open your hands.’ And she put it
between his two hands, and pressed them to-
gether about it. ‘My dear husband, do you
know what I am doing?’ ‘Yes, dear, you are
giving me your Bible.’ ‘No, darling, I am
giving you your Bible, and God has sent me
to give you this sweet book before I die.
Now put it in your bosom. Will you keep it
there? Will you read it, for me?’ ‘I will,
my dear.’ ’’

“J placed,’’ said Doctor Tyng, ‘‘this dear
dead lady in the tomb behind my church.
Perhaps three weeks afterwards, that hus-
band came to my study, weeping profusely.
‘Oh, my friend,’ said he, ‘my friend, I have
found what she meant—it is my Bible, every
word of it was written for me. I read it over
and over day by day, I read it over night by
night; I bless God it is my Bible. Will you
take me into your church where she was?’
‘With all my heart.’ And that once proud,
worldly, hostile man, hating this blessed Bible,
came, with no arguments, with no objections,
with no difficulties suggested, with no ques-
tions to unravel, but binding this Word on
his heart of memory and love. It was God’s
message of direct salvation to his soul; as
direct, as if there was not another Bible in
Philadelphia, and an angel from heaven had
brought him this.”’

Have you such a book, reader? One you
love and study and can clasp to your heart,
and say, this is my Bible? We all need such
a book. —Selected. ;

—s +o or oe

Moved by a Song.

In that beautiful part of Germany which
borders on the Rhine there is a noble castle,
which, as you travel on the western bank of
the river, you may see lifting its ancient tow-
-ers on the opposite side above the grove of
trees about as old as itself.

About ninety years ago there lived in that
castle a noble gentleman, whom we will call
Baron The Baron had only one son,
who was not only a comfort to his father, but
a blessing to all who lived on his father’s land.

It happened on a certain occasion that, this
young man being from home, there came a
French gentleman to see the castle, who be-
gan to talk of his heavenly Father in terms
that chilled the old man’s blood; on which
-the Baron reproved him, saying: ‘‘Are you
not afraid of offending God, who reigns above,
by speaking in such a manner?’’ The gentle-
man said that he knew nothing about God, for
he had never seen Him. The Baron did not
“notice at this time what the gentleman said,
but the next morning took him about his
castle grounds, and took occasion first to show
him a very beautiful picture that hung on the
wall. The gentleman admired the picture very
much, and said, ‘‘ Whoever drew that picture
knows very well how to use his pencil.’”’

“My son drew that picture,’’ said the Baron.

‘‘Then your son is a very clever man,’’ re-
plied the gentleman.

The Baron then went with his visitor into
the garden, showed him many beautiful flowers
and plantations of forest trees.

‘‘Who has the ordering of this garden?”
asked the gentleman.

‘My son,’’ replied the Baron. ‘‘He knows
every plant, I may say.’’

“Indeed,’’ said the gentleman, ‘‘I shall

think very highly of him soon.’’
' The Baron then took him into the village
and showed him a small, neat cottage, where
his son had established a school, and where
he caused all young children who had lost
their parents to be received and nourished at
his own expense. ‘The children in the house
looked so happy that the gentleman was very
much pleased, and ‘when he returned to the
castle he said to the Baron, ‘‘What a happy
man you are, to have so good a son!’’

‘How do you know I have so good a son?”’

‘Because I have seen his works, and I know
that he must be good and clever, if he has done
all that you have showed me.’’

‘*But you have never seen him.’’.

“No; but I know him very well, because I
judge him by his works.”’

“True,’’ replied the Baron, ‘‘and this is the
way I judge of the character of our heavenly
Father. I know from His works that He is a
being of infinite wisdom, power, and goodness.”

The Frenchman felt the force of the re-
proof, and was careful not to offend the
Baron any more by his remarks.

From the German.

He had a pleasant voice and the words and
melody were sweet and touching as he sung
them. Pretty soon the soldier turned his face
again, but its hardened expression was all
gone.

‘Who taught you that?’’ he said when the
hymn was done.

‘“My mother.’”’

“So did mine. I learned it of her when I
was a child, and I used to sing it with her.’
And there were tears in the man’s eyes.

The ice was thawed away. It was easy to
talk with him now. The words of Jesus en-
tered in where the hymn had opened the door.
Weeping and with a hungry heart he listened
to the Christian’s thoughts of death, and in
his last moments turned to his mother’s God
and sinner’s Friend. — The Welcome.

———_o +o +

The Lame Take The Prey.

One of the earliest missionaries of the China
Inland Mission was a lame man, George Stott.
When he offered himself for the work, Hud-
son Taylor hesitated.

‘‘Are you really prepared to face China?”
he asked. ‘‘It might go hardly with you ina
riot —you couldn’t run away.’’

“Qh, running away wasn’t in my thoughts,
I had quite expected that ‘the lame should
take the prey.’”’

‘tFfe’s just the man for China,’’ thought

Taylor.
He went to Chins. <A mob broke into his
house and ordered him to leave the city. He
faced them calmly, and said: ‘*You see I am
lame, I can not run away. If you kill me you
will probably be called to account. If you let
me alone, you will find me harmless. I have
come here only for your good.””

Astonished and perplexed the crowd retired
A rough and wicked life, with none but evil and let him go on with his Master’s work. :
associates, had blunted his sensibilities and|. After twenty-three years of devoted service
made profanity and scorn his second nature. he died, and hundreds of Chinese converts
To hear him speak one would have thought mourned his loss as that of a father.-

he had no piously nurtured childhood to re- Story of China Inland Misston..

In one of the hospitals of Edinburgh lay a
wounded Scottish soldier. The surgeons had
done all they could for him. He had been
told he must die. He had a contempt for
death, and prided himself on his fearlessness
in facing it.