GEORGE WHITEFIELD'S REMINDER.
George Whitefield stopped at one time in a certain town in the house of a general who treated him very kindly. Whitefield, as his custom was, intended to speak to the family individually about the gospel of Christ, but Satan said, "Now, George, don't say a word to these good people, it will grieve them; they have been so kind to you. Why, you cannot tell the general, 'except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God;' they would be too harsh words to address to such a man as that. And you cannot talk to the wife and daughters concerning things of the kingdom. See how kind they have been to you! The warning will not come well from one who has been so much obliged to them as you." And no doubt the flesh a little aided the temptation, so that when Whitefield retired to rest that night he had not spoken to any of the persons of the house according to his usual wont. This troubled him. The Lord visited him by night, and said to him, "Thou art my servant, and yet thou hast not done my work," and conscience whispered, "These people have been kind to you; is it not great unkindness not to warn them of the wrath to come?" And then the Spirit said, "You dare not leave this place until you have addressed to them a word that might be blessed to their souls." But still the flesh was strong, and George did not dare say a word. However, when the flesh failed, God came in and directed his servant's mind. Whitefield happened to have a diamond ring in his possession at the time, with which he wrote upon the window-pane, "But one thing thou lackest," and, having prayed much about it, he went his way. No sooner had he gone than the master of the house entered the room where the good man had slept. The first thing that struck the general's eye was this writing on the window-pane—"But one thing thou lackest." The thought flashed across his mind—"Then this holy man of God loves my soul; I thought that he did not love it, for he said not a word to me about it. It appears that he does. Wife," said he, "come here and see what is on that window." "Yes," said she, "depend upon it, he has been unhappy in our house. We have done the best we could to make him comfortable, but because we don't love the Lord, he has been disturbed and unhappy." The Spirit of God was at work in their hearts; they were convinced of the truth of that sentence, "One thing thou lackest." "Call up the children," said the father. And the son and the three daughters came, and, strange to tell, the whole of them were brought to contrition of heart for sin at the sight of that text. Round the bed the whole family knelt—six of them—and bowed their knees, confessing their sins, and rose up believing in the Lord Jesus Christ. A member of the church at present under the care of Dr. Thomas Armitage, of New York, has now in her possession the very pane of glass on which Whitefield wrote the words, and she tells the story of how her mother was one of those daughters who were thus converted to the Saviour.