p. 8 | THE MINISTER'S DREAM by Junius

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Feb 5, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 14.

THE MINISTER'S DREAM.

By Junius

BY JUNIUS.

I sat down in an armchair, 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.

Tired with my work, I soon lost myself in a sort of half-forgetful state, though I seemed fully aware of my place and 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 physical quantity, and, putting my hand in my bosom, brought it forth and presented it to him for inspection. He took it, and, placing it in a scale, weighed it carefully. I heard him say, "One hundred pounds!" I could scarce suppress an audible note of satisfaction, but, by his earnest look as he noted down the weight, I saw at once that he had drawn no final conclusion, but was intent on pushing the investigation. He broke the mass to atoms, put it into his crucible, and put the crucible in the fire. When the mass was thoroughly fused, he took it out, and set it down to cool. It congealed in cooling, and when turned out on the earth, exhibited a series of layers or strata, all of which, at the touch of the hammer, fell apart, and were severely tested and weighed, the Stranger making minute notes as the process went on. When he had finished, he presented the notes to me, giving 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.


Weighed in a mass,	100 lbs.
Of this, on analysis, there proves to be:—
Bigotry,	10 parts.
Personal ambition,	23 parts.
Love of praise,	19 parts.
Pride of demonstration,	15 parts.
Pride of talent,	14 parts.
Love of authority,	12 parts.
Love to God } Pure zeal,	{ 4 parts.
Love to man }	{ 3-100 parts.

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 sank 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, and besought God, with many tears, to save me from myself; and at length, with an irrepressible cry of anguish, I awoke. I had prayed in years gone by to be saved from hell, but my prayer to be saved from myself now was immeasurably more fervent and distressful; nor did I rest or pause until 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 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 a balance and found wanting.—British Evangelist.