A WORKER’S DREAM

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Sep 25, 1879

A WORKER’S DREAM.

I sat down in an arm-chair, wearied with my work. My toil had been severe and protracted. Many were seeking the salvation of their souls, and many had found what they sought. The church wore an aspect of thrift and prosperity; and joy and hope and courage were the prevailing sentiments on every hand. As for myself, I was joyous in my work; my brethren were united; my sermons and exhortations were evidently telling on my hearers; my church was crowded with listeners. The whole community was more or less moved with the prevailing excitement; and, as the work went on, I had been led into exhausting labors for its promotion.

Fired with my work, I soon lost myself in a sort of half-forgetful state, though I seemed fully aware of my place and my surroundings. Suddenly a stranger entered the room, without any preliminary “tap,” or “Come in.” I saw in his face benignity, intelligence and weight of character; but, though he was passably well attired, he carried suspended about his person measures and chemical agents and implements, which gave him a very strange appearance.

The stranger came toward me, and, extending his hand, said, “How is your zeal?” I supposed, when he began his question, that the query was to be for my health, but was pleased to hear his final word; for I was quite well pleased with my zeal, and doubted not the stranger would smile when he should know its proportions. Instantly I conceived of it as a physical quantity, and putting my hand into my bosom, brought it forth, and presented it to him for inspection. He took it, and, placing it in his scale, weighed it carefully. I heard him say, “One hundred pounds!”

I could scarce suppress an audible note of satisfaction; but I caught his earnest look as he noted down the weight; and I saw at once that he had drawn no final conclusion, but was intent on pushing his investigation. He broke the mass to atoms, put it into his crucible, and put the crucible into the fire. When the mass was thoroughly fused, he took it out, and set it down to cool. It stratified in cooling, and when turned out on the hearth, exhibited a series of layers or strata; which all, at the touch of the hammer, fell apart, and were severally tested and weighed, the stranger making minute notes as the process went on. When he had finished, he presented the notes to me, and gave me a look of mingled sorrow and compassion, as, without a word except, “May God save you!” he left the room.

I opened the “notes,” and read as follows:

ANALYSIS OF THE ZEAL OF JUNIUS, A CANDIDATE FOR A CROWN OF GLORY.

Weight in mass—100 lbs.

Of this, on analysis, there prove to be—


Bigotry		10 parts
Personal ambition		23 “
Love of praise		19 “
Pride of denomination		15 “
Pride of talent		14 “
Love of authority		12 “
Love to God	Pure zeal	4 “
Love to man		3 “

I had become troubled at the peculiar manner of the stranger, and especially at his parting look and words; but when I looked at the figures, my heart sunk as lead within me. I made a mental effort to dispute the correctness of the record. But I was suddenly startled into a more honest mood, by an audible sigh—almost a groan—from the stranger (who had paused in the hall), and by a sudden darkness falling upon me, by which the record became at once obscured and nearly illegible. I suddenly cried out, “Lord, save me!” and knelt down at my chair, with the paper in my hand, and my eyes fixed upon it. At once it became a mirror, and I saw my heart reflected in it. The record was true! I saw it; I felt it; I confessed it; I deplored it; and I besought God, with many tears to save me from myself; and at length, with a loud and irrepressible cry of anguish, I awoke. I had prayed in years gone by to be saved from hell, but my plea to be saved from myself, now, was immeasurably more fervent and distressful; nor did I rest or pause till the refining fire came down and went through my heart, searching, probing, melting, burning, filling all its chambers with light, and hallowing my whole heart to God.

That light and that love are in my soul to-day; and when the toils and tears of my pilgrimage shall be at an end, I expect to kneel at the feet of the Divine Alchemist, and bless him for the revelations of that day that showed me where I stood, and turned my feet into a better path.

That day was the crisis of my history: and if there shall prove to have been, in later years, some depth and earnestness in my convictions, and some searching and saving pungency in my words, I doubt not eternity will show their connection with the visit of this Searcher of hearts, at whose coming I was weighed in the balance and found wanting.—Selected.