A FREE SEAT | AdventAI

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · May 6, 1880

A FREE SEAT.

[Feeble poetry, but strongly suggestive.]

HE was old and poor, and a stranger In the great metropolis, As he bent his steps thitherward To a stately edifice. Outside he inquires, "What Church is this?" "Church of Christ," he hears them say; "Ah! just the place I am looking for, I trust he is here to-day."

He passed thro' the spacious columned door And up the carpeted aisle, And as he passed, on many a face, He saw surprise and smile. From pew to pew, one entire side, Then across the broad front space; From pew to pew down the other side He walked with the same slow pace.

Not a friendly voice had bid him sit To listen to gospel truth; Not a sign of deference had been paid To the aged one by youth. No door was opened by generous hand, The pews were paid for—rented, And he was a stranger, old and poor, Not a heart to him relented.

As he paused outside a moment to think, Then again passed into the street, Up to his shoulder he lifted a stone That lay in the dust at his feet; And bore it up the broad grand aisle In front of the ranks of pews, Choosing a place to see and to hear, He made a seat for his use.

Calmly sitting upon the huge stone, Folding his hands on his knees, Slowly reviewing the worshipers, A great confusion he sees. Many a cheek is crimsoned with shame, Some whisper together sore, And wish they had been more courteous To the stranger old and poor.

As if by magic, some fifty doors Open instantly, And as many seats, and books, and hands Are proffered hastily. Changing his stone for a crimsoned pew, And wiping a tear away, He thinks it was a mistake after all, And that Christ came late that day.

The preacher's discourse was eloquent, The organ in finest tone, But the most impressive sermon heard Was preached by a humble stone. 'Twas a lesson of lowliness and worth That lodged in many a heart, And the Church preserves the sacred stone, That the truth may not depart.

—Sel.