"And have you been," inquired the Missionary, "to bury the husband and the father?"
"Yes, sir," replied the widow, sobbing. "We was married forty-two years, and it's his first night in the cold grave, and I'm so miserable, and my boys has brought me to give me some rum;" and then she sobbed so deeply that the people looked at her with pity.
"Don't touch the rum," said the visitor, "but let me go home with you and read from this blessed Book the comforting words which the merciful God has said to widows;" and then they stepped out of the bar, the sons following. They entered a house a few doors further on, and descended to the back kitchen, which was dismal, and almost without furniture. Taking a seat on the edge of the bedstead, the visitor read the account of the widow of Zarephath, and such Scriptures as "The Lord relieveth the fatherless and widow;" "Let thy widows trust in Me;" and then explained to her the meaning of being "a widow indeed." The young men were deeply interested, but when prayer was offered they stood up awkwardly, though the mother knelt; it was evident that they had never bent the knee in supplication. After more words of sympathy the widow was left much comforted, and with the promise of another visit.
After this the Missionary passed through several other public-houses with varied success, and scattered much precious seed. As the evening was far advanced, he entered a large beer-shop, intending a final visit. About thirty men and women of the lower class were standing, many of them with their backs to the walls, as the landlord had removed the seats to prevent his customers staying too long. Upon glancing round, the visitor noticed a middle-aged man, whom he had not seen for several years, and inquired of him where he had been?
"To prison, for assault upon a woman," he replied. "I was committed for four years, and that wasn't much, as she will never get over it; and I'm out six months afore time with a ticket-of-leave; and it was the drink as made me do it, as I wouldn't hurt nobody."
"It's no use laying it to the drink," was the reply; "speak the truth, and say that it was your love of the drink,--your vice that led you to commit the crime. You may make excuse now, but the day is coming when you will be tried again for that and for every offence of your life, as we must all stand before the judgment seat of Christ; now mind, if you are condemned by that Judge there will be no escape from the prison of hell, to which you will be sent."