Bettys Bright Idea | Page 6

into
a great prayer-meeting. The music grew more distinct as he went in. A
man was singing in clear, penetrating tones:
"What means this eager, anxious throng, Which moves with busy haste
along; These wondrous gatherings day by day; What means this strange
commotion, say? In accents hushed the throng reply, 'Jesus of Nazareth
passeth by!'"

John had but a vague idea of religion, yet something in the singing
affected him; and, weary and footsore and heartsore as he was, he sank
into a seat and listened with absorbed attention:
"Jesus! 'tis he who once below Man's pathway trod in toil and woe;
And burdened ones where'er he came Brought out their sick and deaf
and lame. The blind rejoiced to hear the cry, 'Jesus of Nazareth passeth
by!'
"Ho, all ye heavy-laden, come! Here's pardon, comfort, rest, and home.
Ye wanderers from a Father's face, Return, accept his proffered grace.
Ye tempted ones, there's refuge nigh-- 'Jesus of Nazareth passeth by!'"
A plain man, who spoke the language of plain working-men, now arose
and read from his Bible the words which the angel of old spoke to the
shepherds of Bethlehem:
"_Fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be
to all people, for unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ
the Lord._"
The man went on to speak of this with an intense practical earnestness
that soon made John feel as if he, individually, were being talked to;
and the purport of the speech was this: that God had sent to him, John
Morley, a Saviour to save him from his sins, to lift him above his
weakness, to help him overcome his bad habits; that His name was
called Jesus, because he shall save his people from their sins. John
listened with a strange new thrill. This was what he needed--a Friend,
all- powerful, all-pitiful, who would undertake for him and help him to
overcome himself--for he sorely felt how weak he was. Here was a
Friend that could have compassion on the ignorant and them that were
out of the way. The thought brought tears to his eyes and a glow of
hope to his heart. What if He would help him? for deep down in John's
heart, worse than cold or hunger or weariness, was the dreadful
conviction that he was a doomed man, that he should drink again as he
had drunk, and never come to good, but fall lower and lower, and drag
all who loved him down with him.

And was this mighty Saviour given to him?
"Yes," cried the man who was speaking; "to _you;_ to you, who have
lost name and place; to you, that nobody cares for; to you, who have
been down in the gutter. God has sent you a Saviour to take you up out
of the mud and mire, to wash you clean, to give you strength to
overcome your sins, and lead you home to his blessed kingdom. This is
the glad tidings of great joy that the angels brought on the first
Christmas day. Christ was _God's Christmas gift_ to a poor, lost world,
and you may have him now, to-day. He may be your own
Saviour--yours as much as if there were no other one on earth to be
saved. He is looking for you to-day, coming after you, seeking you; he
calls you by me. Oh, accept him now!"
There was a deep breathing of suppressed emotion as the speaker sat
down, a pause of solemn stillness.
A faint strain of music was heard, and the singer began singing a
pathetic ballad of a lost sheep and of the Shepherd going forth to seek
it:
"There were ninety and nine that safely lay In the shelter of the fold,
But one was out on the hills away, Far off from the gates of gold--
Away on the mountains wild and bare, Away from the tender
Shepherd's care.
"'Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine; Are they not enough for
Thee?' But the Shepherd made answer: ''Tis of mine Has wandered
away from me; And although the road be rough and steep I go to the
desert to find my sheep.'"
John heard with an absorbed interest. All around him were eager
listeners, breathless, leaning forward with intense attention. The song
went on:
"But none of the ransomed ever knew How deep were the waters
crossed; Nor how dark was the night that the Lord went through Ere He
found His sheep that was lost. Out in the desert He heard its cry-- Sick

and helpless, and ready to die."
There was a throbbing pathos in the intonation, and the verse floated
over the weeping throng; when, after a pause, the strain was taken up
triumphantly: