“Take the book and read,” she said, pushing the Bible along the table to him.  It was open at the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke, where he read the words aloud, “I will arise and go to my Father and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned.”  The spell was broken and the string of his tongue loosed, so that he cried aloud for mercy.

This was no unusual thing in one house or another; but in this particular dwelling it was wonderful.  His next-door neighbour, who had often heard the sound of cursing and swearing there, but never the voice of prayer, was so astonished, that he rose and came to the door to assure himself of the astonishing fact.  It was quite true; surely it was John’s own voice praying.  So, lifting the latch, he went in and shouted, “Glory to God!” The louder William shouted, the louder John cried for mercy.  When listening to his friend, who pointed him to “the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world,” he found that “There is life for a look at the Crucified One;” and then they shouted and praised God together.

It was a joyful meeting when I saw him again, and thanked God with him for the marvellous change which had been wrought in his soul.  His very face was altered; and instead of the restless and defiant glare there used to be in his countenance, there was rest and cheerfulness.

I pointed out to him, from that same portion of the Word of God which had been blessed to his soul, that there was something more to be had than the pardon that he had already received; that there was also the best robe, the ring, the shoes, and the feast of rejoicing.  The Father’s arms round the neck of the prodigal son is a token of forgiveness—–­the robe, of righteousness divine which is imputed to us; the ring, of our union with Christ; the shoes, of strength, even grace, with which we walk; and the feast of rejoicing, the believer’s privilege of joy and thanksgiving.

John’s conversion was a remarkable event, and caused a great sensation; crowds of his fellow-work-mates used to stand round him while he told his wonderful story.  “Oh,” he said, “I used to say there was no hell, when all the time I had it burning in my heart; but, glory be to God, I am saved from hell to heaven!”

He seldom prayed in public after this, without begging the Lord to loose the string of the tongue; for, as he said (speaking from experience), “so many are held captive by that dumb devil.”  He became a true missionary for souls, and was very zealous in his testimony, especially amongst his old companions, who worked in the same factory:  he had the joy of seeing many of them brought to the Lord.

John seemed to realize unseen things in an unusually striking way.  He was a man who in his sleep had vivid dreams, and who in his waking hours pondered much upon eternal realities, so that he spoke as one who lived in sight of another world.

CHAPTER 34