Mr. D. Visits the School

Mr. D. visits the school — The children proceed with their pi-ayer meeting — Efl’ect produced on Mr. D. — Hynin — Interview between the two ti-ustees — Mr. P. — JNlr. D., his wife and three children are converted — Unhappy scholai’ — His melancholy end.

The next day, just before the intermission, I received a morning visit from Mr. D., one of the trustees. He remained after I had dismissed the school. I at once thouo-ht he had heard of the meetings, and desired to be present. I was somewhat fearful, as he was not a pious man, lest he should interfere. I secretly wished that the scholars would omit their meeting for that day; but was, at last, enabled to leave it altogether with the Lord, trusting that his Holy Spirit would direct. Mr. D. seated himself near where I sat, and commenced a conversation. The scholars appeared to take no notice of us, but proceeded with their meeting, according to their usual custom. One of the boys opened the hymn-book, and read,

“Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound;
My ears attend the cry:
Ye living men, come view the ground
Where you must shortly lie.”

While they were singing, Mr. D., turning to me, said, “Mrs. Gardner, your scholars singwell.” He was proceeding with other remarks, when he was interrupted by all the scholars falling upon their knees for prayer. The boy who led their devotions first prayed that the Holy Spirit would teach them how to pray, and what to pray for. He then began lo pray, in a very fervent manner, for Mr. D., calling him by name. Mr. D. suddenly turned his back toward me, and rested his elbow upon the desk, and his face in his hand. As soon as this dear youth had ceased praying, another began, when Mr. D. fell upon his knees. As they rose from prayer, they commenced singing,

“Come, humble sinner, in whose breast A thousand thoughts revolve; Come, with your guilt and fears opprest, And make this last resolve.

I’ll go to Jesus, though my sin

Hath like a mountain rose;
I know his courts, I’ll enter in,

Whatever may oppose.

Prostrate I’ll lie before his throne,

And there my guilt confess;
I’ll tell him I’m a wretch undone.

Without his pard’ning grace.

Perhaps he will admit my plea;

Perhaps will hear my prayer;
But, if I perish, I will pray.

And perish only there.

I can but perish, if I go;

I am resolved to try;
For, if I stay away, I know

I shall forever die.

And should I die, with mercy sought,

When I the King have tried, I there shall die — delightful thought! —

Where ne’er a sinner died.”

When the meeting was closed, Mr. D. immediately retired, and directed his steps to a field near by, where Mr. P. — another of the trustees — was at work. Mr. P., on observing that Mr. D. had been weeping, anxiously inquired as to the cause. He repUed, “I have been to the meeting at the school-house; I never was in such a meeting before. It must be the work of the Lord, and it is your duty, as well as mine, to protect Mrs. Gardner and her scholars.” Mr. P. was a pious man, and endeavored to direct him to the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world. This was a remarkable day in the history of Mr. D. He returned home deeply convicted for sin, and in a short time, himself, wife, and three children, were hopefully converted to God.

The children continued to hold their meeting unmolested. Many sought and obtained the witness that they were born again. One day I observed one of the boys, who had been the most active in conducting their meetings, sitting alone, and taking no part in their exercises. Observing that he looked very sad, I took my seat by him, and asked what was the matter. ‘* Timothy,” said I, “you look very unhappy. You do not take a part in the meetings as formerly.” He burst into tears, and said that his mother had forbidden his joining in worship with them, saying that he was too young to have religion, and threatened to punish him, if she heard any more about his praying. When he told me this, my heart bled for him. I gave him the best advice I could, but it proved unavaihng, as his mother was so bitterly opposed to the conversion of one so young. She did not believe it possible. Her error had a blighting influence upon poor Timothy. From that time he became very reserved, and silent when addressed upon the subject of religion. When the meetings were held, he would retire outside the school-house, and there sit by himself alone and weep.

His mother was a widow, and in the following spring found it necessary to take him out of school, and place him on a farm. He continued in this occupation the two following years. One pleasant summer day he went with his brother to get the horses. As his brother was harnessing two of them, Timothy jumped upon the third, already tackled for the plow, and rode off to the field. His brother soon followed, expecting when he came there to find Timothy plowing. But, to his great surprise, neither Timothy nor the horse were there. On looking around, he saw the footsteps of the horse, which indicated that he had been running. He was alarmed, and concluded to follow his steps, calling aloud for his brother. After he had gone near three-quarters of a mile, he found the horse in a thicket, just at the entrance of a dense wood, and, horrible to relate! poor Timothy was hanging by his side! He had been thrown from the horse, and, his foot having caught in the traces, he had been dragged along over the rough road with great violence. Not a vestige of his face or head was to be seen.

This was the sad end of the child I had so prayerfully commended to the mercy of God. If he was too young to serve and love God, he certainly was not too young to die. But, in an hour when he least expected, he was summoned to bid adieu to earthly scenes, and enter upon the untried realities of eternity. Let children be also ready; for in such an hour as they think not the Son of man cometh.