WHY BROTHER JOHN LOST HIS HORSE.
“The Lord has given me light this morning, I never saw before,” said Bro. John, as he rose in meeting to speak of the Lord’s dealings with him. Our brother was a farmer, and no one in his county could show fields better tilled, better fenced, or stock better cared for. He was a man of sound judgment, fine taste, and, withal, a man of sterling integrity. He was a “close buyer,” but always a good payer. He never bought the blind or the lame, however cheap. His rule was, Sound articles and sound prices. If his horse, steer, or sheep, could not recommend itself, it got no help from his lips. His industry, good judgment, prompt and fair dealing, soon made him independent and much envied among his brother farmers. Bro. John was, also, a member of the Methodist Church, and a worthy one, too. He was a trustee and steward. He loved the church, and was liberal in his support of her institutions, and he was often tried sorely with brethren who gave, as he thought, stintedly. Indeed, he took great pride in having the preacher’s claims all met and their families well cared for. Though he carried on extensive farming, no amount of business or number of men, even in harvest time, ever led him to neglect the family altar. He was punctual, also, in attendance upon prayer and class meetings. He never allowed visitors to keep him from these means of grace. He loved “protracted meetings,” and labored to get sinners converted. Such, in the main, was Bro. John as a business man and as a Christian. We began to tell our readers about getting and losing a horse, but we must first show some of the Lord’s dealings with the honest Christian man such as Bro. John was. The preacher on the circuit appointed “a protracted meeting.” The members promptly rallied; the soldiers burnished and buckled on their armor with zeal and readiness. Many soon found they could not wage war on sin in others while they allowed it in their own hearts. Sinners were soon, however, crowding the altar seeking for pardon; but this fact seemed to deepen the hearts of many true-hearted ones, that they must seek for clean hearts. The twofold work of pardon and sanctification went on powerfully and harmoniously. Our good brother was soon seen at the altar, and no one prayed more earnestly for pardon than he did for purity. Again and again did he come, nor did his earnestness abate, though the blessing seemed delayed. At length, rising and facing the large congregation, he said: “Brethren, I have something to say to you. Some of you think me very foolish and weak; I can’t help that. I have been seeking, as you know, to have my heart cleansed from all sin, and made perfect in love. The Lord has required a work of me first, before he will answer my prayer. You know, my brethren, many of the farmers about us went to raising tobacco, because, it was said, it would pay better than anything else. They seemed to do so well I finally went into the business too. I have done quite well, made some money; but the Lord has shown me how worse than useless tobacco is—how injurious to men’s bodies and souls it is, and how wrong it is for me to misuse my beautiful fields, which he has given me, to raise that which does harm, and only harm. I would not use it myself, nor allow any of my family to do it, but I have been raising it for others. “But I am ashamed of it; I am sorry for it. And now all this tobacco business the Saviour has put right between me and the cleansing stream. I don’t know what my brethren or my neighbors will think or say about it, but I tell you all I now give up the business. My farm hereafter grows bread, and not poison for my fellow-men.” This announcement cut many to the heart, and some of the nobler ones soon followed Bro. John’s example. After bearing the cross of cleansing his business, he quickly found the blood applied that washed his heart and made it clean before the Lord. None could easily doubt the change wrought in him; for, while he was careful to confess that the blood of Christ had cleansed his heart from all sin, his spirit and his prompt sacrifice of everything shown him to be wrong by God’s word or by the Holy Spirit confirmed all of the truth of his profession. Some months had passed when he came into a morning meeting in an adjoining circuit, now in charge of his former pastor. There were deep heart-searchings going on; the Holy Spirit was uncovering to many sincere hearts the real, though often partly concealed, motives of past conduct. After a season of deep introspection of his heart, our brother arose and said:— “Brethren, I see some things this morning as I never saw them before. God has been giving me light. I see now why I lost a fine horse. I see it as clear as day. I must tell you all about it. Be patient with me; I feel that God wants me to tell you. “A few years ago I found, about mid-winter, that I had more hay than I needed, and I concluded to buy some more stock, preferring to feed the hay out on my farm rather than sell it off. Neighbor B., a good Presbyterian brother, whom you all know, had three colts to sell. I went to see them. He had three, but he said he wished to sell only the two youngest. “‘Let us take a look at them,’ I said. After viewing them, I asked his price. “‘Now, Bro. John,’ said he, ‘I put them low, because I am forced to sell in order to raise this money; but for that, I would not sell one of them.’ “‘What is your price for the oldest one?’ I inquired. “‘Oh! I can’t sell him, Bro. John. The boys have set their hearts on him. The other two will bring all the money I need, and it would almost break the peace of the family if I should sell the other, he is so great a favorite.’ “I stood and thought a moment, when I said to myself, Now, I will buy the two anyhow, if I can’t get the other, for his price is fair enough. “‘But what would be your price for the oldest one, if you were going to sell him?’ said I. “‘Oh! I can’t price him at all; I can’t sell him,’ he said. “‘Well there is no harm in setting a price, if you ain’t going to sell, you know,’ I said. “Then I led him on till I got a price fixed. I knew he must raise his money right away or be sued. I took advantage of his strait. “‘Now, neighbor,’ said I, ‘your prices are all fair enough; I can’t complain. But I don’t want the two. I must have all, or I don’t care about any; so I suppose we can’t trade.’ “I turned away, as if I was giving up the trade, but it was only to bring him to terms. I was so anxious to get the colts that I did not realize the wrong then as I see it now. I lied to him, and lied before God; for I had said I would take the two if I could not get the other. God heard me say so, and that is the record I shall have to meet in the day of Judgment. “‘Well Bro. John,’ said he, ‘I am very sorry it is so; for I must have the money, and I know no other way to get it only to sell the colts, which I do not want to do. I wish you would take the two, and let me keep that nice three-year-old.’ “I saw he was coming over, and after a little I said, ‘No; I will give you your price for all three, but I don’t care to buy one unless I can buy all.’ He hesitated. It was a great struggle. I felt for him, but still I held him to my terms. At last he yielded. I paid him his price for the three, and took them all home with me, proud of my purchase; for they were all of good stock and in prime order. I promised myself a good outcome. “The winter was about over, and the colts had all done well. One fine morning I led out the oldest one, intending to let him run awhile in the meadow near the barn. As he came out of the stable I gave him a little rope, and as he pranced around me, I thought I never saw a handsomer colt, or the making of a finer horse. I was delighted with him. As I led him to the bars he seemed so spry and playful I thought I would see how well he could jump. So I only let down the top bar. He jumped, but not high enough; his knees struck the upper edge of the top bar, and he fell over flat on his back. It seemed unaccountable how he could do so—the bars were not high, but so he did. He could not get up. I got help and raised him up, and braced him up with rails; but he could not stand. I was determined to save him; but the neighbors all said he was of no use—his back was hurt, and he would never walk again. As I said, ‘He shall walk; I wont give him up,’ what a struggle I had! How I loved him. As I looked on him, poor fellow, he gave me such a sorrowful and imploring look, he almost broke my heart, and I said, ‘You shall live.’ More remedies were tried, but all in vain. When, at last, I gave him up that he could not live, I felt that it was wrong to prolong his sufferings, so I tried to get some one to shoot him. They all refused, though I offered a poor young man money if he would only do it for me. “At last I went into the house, and got a gun to do it myself. As I came to him he gave me a look of such meaning, and seemed so innocent, that it broke my heart. Oh! how hard to shoot that dear colt! Why, he seemed now almost an idol in my heart—perhaps he was. After summoning all my courage I fired, and as he fell I turned quickly away, dropped the gun, and cried like a child. Oh! what a sad morning that was to me! The providence seemed so dark, I did not understand it. “It was about five years ago that I lost that colt, and never till this morning have I seen why it happened. I felt that I must tell you, as the Holy Spirit has revealed it to me since I came into this meeting. I see now that if I had done by my brother as I would have been done by, I would never have bought that colt. My brother was needy, was in a strait, and I used the money God blessed me with to wring that colt out of his hands. To this sin I added lying—for I had said in God’s hearing I would take the two if I could not get the three, and then said to my brother, ‘I must buy all or none.’ Oh! I see it now as never before. Had I obeyed the law of love I should have left that colt where God would have left him. Then he would never have jumped my bars, broken his back, nor I have been compelled to take his life. God has, indeed, proved that ‘with what measure ye mete it shall be measured to you again.’ My brother, if he had had the heart to do it, could never have requited me for this wrong. God took the matter into his own hands. Why I got this light this morning, and have been led to speak of it, I know not.” Here Bro. John sat down. A very deep and solemn impression pervaded the whole house. No one could doubt that the Holy Spirit had shed this light on his mind not only for his good, but for the good of others. Suffice it to say that a prominent brother in the house, who was both a trustee and steward, saw mirrored in Bro. John’s story one of his own transactions, which was as direct a violation of the law of love as was the extortion of the colt. Providence had called him to bury a horse obtained in the violation of love. A confession by the brother, frank and noble, followed; and it scarcely need be said that many Christian men in that region were more careful thereafter to buy and sell in accordance with the injunction of our Saviour, “Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them.”—N. Y. Advocate.