TELLING TRIBUTES TO RELIGION.
SOME thirty years ago, a young man from Southern Pennsylvania was on his way to college, and entering the stage-coach he found as passengers several men whose loose talk was chiefly in ridicule of religion and the Bible. He himself was not a Christian, but he was of a Christian family and reverenced his father and mother and their faithful piety, which he felt were both the strength and beauty of his early home. Pained and provoked by the blasphemies of his fellow-travelers, he was silent till he could bear it no longer, and then he contradicted their statements and denied and opposed their assertions. Amused at his unexpected boldness, and thinking to make short work of the youth, they became more reckless and impudent than before. He was not then the keen and practiced debater he afterward became, but by the Christian teaching of his home and church, he had been well informed; and with his spirit roused, and speaking on the side of truth, he gave them blow for blow and facts for arguments, till soon they were silenced and gave up the discussion. At the end of the stage-route they all entered the steamboat which was in waiting, and had not been205long on board when one who had been foremost in opposing and ridiculing religion came to the young man and asked,—
“Have you a state-room?”
“I have.”
“Will you let me share it with you?”
“Why?”
“Because I have a large amount of money with me, and I am afraid to sleep with any one I do not know, lest I should be murdered for my money. If you will let me have one of the two berths, I shall esteem it a great favor.”
His request was granted. But what a commentary on his previous words and his ridicule of the Bible and Christians! About fifty years ago, a gentleman from one of the Southern States was obliged, on a journey, to pass through the then wild region now known as Western Virginia. He was an avowed infidel, often saying that Christianity was false, and would ultimately lose its influence and die out. He had been advised to make a certain part of his journey by day, as at night the region spoken of was unsafe. But being delayed, he was on his way through this very region when night overtook him. Approaching a small cabin and inquiring where he was, he found to his dismay that he was in the very neighborhood he had been warned to avoid; but thinking it as dangerous to go back as forward, he determined to stop where he was. So he entered the hut, in which there was only a woman, and among the rude furniture he saw knives that in his eyes looked very large, and guns enough for many assailants. Before long, the cottager himself came in, a rough mountaineer, and in a frank but uncouth manner welcomed the stranger, who quietly took a seat. When supper was ready, they invited him to draw up and eat with them; but as his appetite was spoiled by anxiety and fear, he declined, saying he was not hungry. After supper had passed in a long silence, as he expressed a desire to rest, the cottager replied,—
“You can lie down wherever you like on the floor there. I am sorry I haven’t anything better to offer you. But we always, before we go to sleep, read a chapter in this book,” taking down a Bible, “and ask God to take care of us through the night.”
The stranger’s relief from anxiety and fear was instantaneous. The book which he had often ridiculed and opposed, he at once felt was the guarantee of his safety during the silent watches of the night, and he lay down as securely and quietly for his rest as if he had been in his own home, and with a lesson to his conscience and sober judgment that made him a wiser and better man.—Christian Weekly.