And the poor woman, who was evidently much overwrought, just sat down and hid her face in her handkerchief. I couldn’t help putting my hand over hers in sympathy.
There were many other bowed heads in the meeting by then—old, careworn women as well as younger ones, old men in plenty, but so few young fellows.
“Let us pray,” said the chairman. All eyes were closed. There was a slight pause, and then another voice full of wonderful restfulness sent up a prayer to the Great Comforter on behalf of all the mothers and fathers present, who night and day were longing for their sons’ return, and for the wives who with aching hearts were hungering for news of the absent loved ones. The prayer was very simple and unconventional, just the asking of a boon from a Friend. But the speaker understood the heartbreaks that were in those suppressed sobs, and his words brought comfort to many a lonely one that night.
When he ceased, the lamps were all raised, and there on the rostrum was one of the greatest—if not _the_ greatest—of the preachers of our times.
I was amazed when I saw him there—a man who preached every Sunday to congregations numbering several thousands; whose name was the most powerful attraction that could be found for a May meeting poster or a Convention programme; a theologian whose lectures and writings were followed with the closest attention by hundreds of students.
As he stood up in that small village chapel, the first thought that came into my mind was something like this: What a waste to have such a big man at a small meeting like this when he could easily fill Albert Hall; and in any case he will probably be right above their heads; he is far too scholarly for these simple-minded uneducated people. He will be quite lost on them.
What I forgot was the fact that after all it is the Message that counts in such a case.
The famous preacher had a Message for humanity; and he was great enough to be able to deliver it in a way that would be understood by anyone, rich or poor, educated or illiterate. And he was wise enough to know that he might be doing a big work in speaking to that handful of people in that remote corner of England, seeing that a chance visit had brought him into the vicinity; therefore, when they had asked him if he would speak at the revival meetings they were holding, he had consented at once; and I was not the only one who had reason to be grateful to God for the preacher’s words that night; mine was not the only heavy heart that had come into the little chapel badly in need of an uplift; I was not the only one who felt almost alone in a losing cause, with all the old-time beliefs tottering.