Intermezzo

Dr. Gordon's humor—Negroid and other stories— Quaint experiences

Pastoral incidents

AS has been intimated, Dr. Gordon had a fund of humor

^ which was inexhaustible— humor of a clean, quaint, pointed, genial type with never a suggestion of malice or unfriendliness. He was a great maker of puns. This might have been suspected by an acute attendant on his preaching. He never, indeed, indulged in anything approaching levity in the pulpit. But the striking antitheses and clever alliterations which rose and jumped, now and then, like trout in a pool, disclosed what he was likely to be at his dinner-table. This vein of humor often bubbled out in happy characterizations or in bright repartee. A petition for the removal of a noble and useful man from a post of great responsibility was once shown him. Glancing at the list of AduUamites who had signed it he said wittily, " They are of three classes, I see figureheads, soreheads, deadheads." At another time, when at Northfield in charge of the conference, a telegram was received from Mr. Moody saying that he could not be present, but that he had three helpers, Meyer, Pierson, and Pentecost, who would take his place, and adding an encouraging Scripture reference. Gordon retorted immediately with a counter-reference (i Cor. xvi. 17): " I am glad of the coming of Stephanas and Fortunatus and Achaicus: for that which was lacking on your part they have supplied."

Those who find any incompatibility between humor and sanctity forget, doubtless, that the same Maker who brought into being the archangels created as well the bill of the toucan and the bray of the ass. Humor is— we say it reverently—divine attribute.

Dr. Gordon's table talk was brimming with this quality. Discussions over the deep things of Scripture or the vexed problems of missionary polity were frequently followed by the free play of anecdote and a restrained raillery. If there happened to be an equally skilful raconteur present, stories flew back and forth as balls on a tennis-court. Then indeed did

iron sharpen iron. A story was never told merely for the

sake of telling, but always in response to some other or in illustration of the point under discussion. Quaint pastoral experiences, comic coincidences, laughable adventures, would come out one by one as the conversation enticed them. There was a long cyclus of negroid stories which had to do with the " colored " mission of his church, and another series pertaining to the children of Erin, with whom his pastoral and philanthropic work brought him occasionally in touch. The emergence of these stories was always preceded by a premonitory suffusion over his face of quiet fun, as of thejight which glimmers before the dawn.

It was his often expressed intention to write out a brief volume of the amusing experiences which lightened his long pastorate; but for this entr'acte undertaking he never to the last found time. Most of the anecdotes which so amused his friends have vanished with him. Yet a few have been collected by diligent effort, and are reproduced in the following pages, that those unacquainted with his family life may get a new insight into his character.

The first of these we are able to give in his own words. It was written out at the time when he was calling attention to the excesses in church amusements. The old deacon whose story he tells was a leading member of the Ebenezer Baptist Church. His opinions on theological currents and countercurrents were given in all confidence to the friendly pastor, and were marked by a shrewdness on which the latter often commented. Surprised, no doubt, would he be if he were to know how wide has been the circulation of his astute and pithy Africanisms. On one occasion they were rehearsed before a group of Edinburgh professors, to the amusement of all, especially of Dr. Calderwood, the eminent writer on ethics, who carefully preserved them in his note-book. Our carpetbeating Epictetus is, however, to this day unaware of his fame.

One epigram always pleased Dr. Gordon. "The black deacon of our mission church," he wrote, " gave us a very significant answer not long since. He was complaining of his Ethiopian pastor that he did not expound the Word. When we expressed surprise and remarked that we had supposed he did, he replied, ' He can take the Bible apart as good as any man I ever seed, but he can't put it together again.' This in learned phraseology would mean that he excelled in destructive criticism, but not in constructive."

"'I kicks ag'in' it, sah!'

" Such was the vehement exclamation of Brother Moses, as I met him one day in front of an aristocratic mansion where he was busily at work dusting carpets, trimming the lawn, etc.

" But before I rehearse his sidewalk discourse I must tell my reader something about this ebony sage, whom I have known now for more than twenty-five years. Like the singer in the Canticles, he is ' black, but comely.' Not that he has any natural beauty to attract one, but when he becomes animated upon spiritual themes the listener forgets his dark 2o6 ADONIRAM JUDSON GORDON

visage and thick features, and the ' beauty of the Lord ' seems to shine out in his face.

" My first acquaintance with Moses began thus " Soon after the close of the war, when a considerable influx of freedmen toward the North had set in, a Unitarian neighbor said to me one day, ' I wish you would call in and see my colored man, who has recently come to me from the South.

I assure you he is a character. He seems to take a great

interest in the welfare of my soul, and, as he is of your persuasion, I would like you to make his acquaintance. By all means get him to tell you of his " experience."

" I called one morning, according to request, and found Moses busy in the stable polishing the harnesses and beguiling his labors with the weird strains of an old plantation melody.

"After a pleasant introduction and some interchange of Christian fellowship, I said

" ' Brother Moses, I wish you would tell me your Christian experience if you can spare time for it.'

" ' I allers has time enough for dat, sah,' he replied, ' and allers shall till I puts off dis clay tabernacle, and den I'll hab all eternity to tell it in.' And then a shine came into his dusky visage more brilliant than that which he was imparting to his master's leather.

" ' It was on de sixth day ob October, 1853,' he continued, ' at three o'clock in de mornin', in massa's corn-field in ole Virginny, dat de Lord spoke peace to my soul. You see, I had been a-mournin' for weeks, yet all de while more or less confidential in myself, and settin' store by de heaps ob good works and prayers and repentin's I'd done. But at last dese deceitful refuges began to gib way, and de foundations ob de great deep broke up in my soul, and for three days and nights I could neither eat nor drink nor sleep, a-mournin' and a-wailin' for my sins. At last, nigh sunrise in de third day, out in de corn-field, I sez, " Lord, you must save dis despairin' sinner or he'll die. I know I'se wicked and vile and rebellious, but den you'se all-merciful and forgivin'. Dat's your reputation, Lord, and I begs you for de sake of your great name to show mercy and not judgment." And so I cried and pleaded dere on de ground. Den de Lord 'peared to me in de visions ob de mornin' and reached out his hand to me; but he didn't reach it out to me flatways as though he had any bread ob Hfe to gib to my hungry soul. Time hadn't come yet for dat. But he reached out his hand edgeways toward me and if dat hand had been a sharp two-edged sword it couldn't cut me open quicker'n it did; separatin' de j'ints and de marrer, and layin' bare de corruption ob my heart. I never dreamed what a heap ob blackness dere was in dat heart till dat mornin'. But just den I heerd a mighty noise, which made me tremble from head to foot, and I sez, " Lord, what's dat rumblin'?" And he sez, "Dat's your sins a-faUin' into hell." Den, quicker'n I can tell, he reached out his hand ag'in, so kinder soft and tender, and closed me up, and didn't leave a rent or a scar or a sore place in my heart, and he sez to me, " Son, dy sins, which is many, is forgiben dee." Den I knowed I'd been born ag'in; dat old things was passed away, and all things had become new. Happified was I. From de risin' ob de sun to de goin' down ob de same dat day, it 'peared like I was in heben, a-standin' on de sea ob glass, wid de harp ob God in my hand, and golden slippers on my feet, singin' de song ob Moses and de Lamb.

" ' From dat day I'se been surer dat I'se borned ag'in dan I am dat I was borned de fust time; for I can't nowise remember my fust birth, but de second I'll remember all eternity, and never cease to praise de Lamb dat redeemed me.

" ' Dat's my experience. Some folks don't believe it, but I knows it, for it's what I'se tasted and seen.'

" Now I dare say that my readers, having listened to this

extraordinary story, will conclude that any one capable of

2o8 ADONIRAM JUDSON GORDON

such highly wrought enthusiasm as this would have very little sober sense or solid judgment for the ordinary affairs of the church of Christ. On the contrary, Moses, becoming a deacon in a colored church not long after my first acquaintance with him, has used the office so well, and gained for himself such a good degree, that by general consent he is now regarded as a very pillar and stay among his brethren. His good judgment in managing the affairs of God's house has constantly siu'prised me; even more have I been impressed with his fine discernment of evangelical truth, and his deep insight into the problems of Christian life and experience. Certainly he must have been profoundly taught of the Spirit and I can say sincerely that I am always spiritually refreshed by my wayside conversations with him, and that if I should ever be in great affliction or darkness of mind, I can think of no one to whom I should more readily turn for consolation than to black Moses.

" But now to the sidewalk discourse.

" ' Have you any special religious interest in your church? ' I asked Moses, after his few words of hearty greeting on the occasion referred to.

"'No room for any interest,' he repHed; 'de church is so lumbered up wid fairs and festibals and jollifications dat de Sperit's got no chance to work among us. Leastwise dat's my solemn 'pinion, dough some sez I'se heady and setful. But I'se sick of it, sah! I goes to church Sunday, after prayin' to be in de Sperit on de Lord's day, and de fust thing de minister gets up and reads a long program of de worldly doin's and goin's for de week— de music and de supper and de gramatic readings and what not; twenty-five cents admission, and all must come. I tell ye, I kicks ag'in' it, sah, and will long's I hab bref in my body.'

" ' What do you mean by saying that you kick against it? I asked.

" ' I rebukes it, sah, in de name ob de Lord. Last Sunday I spoke out in meetin' and said, " Breddren, what's ye been redeemed for and brought into de church? Didn't de Lord tell you dat you'se to be de light ob de world and de salt ob de earth? Well, when I sees how much time some ob you gibs to fairs and festibals, and den you can't come to de prayer-meetin' 'cause you'se so busy, I sez, if you ever was de Lord's true salt, you've lost your flavor, and if you don't look out you'll be cast out and trodden underfoot ob men."

" ' But, Brother Moses,' I asked, wishing to draw out further wisdom from this deep fountain, 'don't you think these things are necessary for making the church attractive to the masses and inviting to the young? '

"'No, sah!' he replied, with great warmth; 'no, sah! Christians is de salt ob de world, and dey is put into de world to preserve it from corruption. But some's got de idee dat you must bring de corruption into de church so's to preserve de salt, as dough de gospel is goin' to die out unless it's sugared and seasoned wid carnal 'musements. Dat's de pop'lar notion. But I kicks ag'in' it, sah.'

" ' Yes; but people say there is no harm in a social gathering and a plain supper, and a little music and reading for entertaining the people,' I continued.

" ' Well, dat's de question,' repHed Moses. ' I takes de Scriptures for my standp'int ob faith and practice, and I hab searched in vain to find where de 'postles and elders ever got up suppers of turkey and chickens and sandwiches and cold tongue, and den invited de breddren to come to church and eat 'em at twenty-five cents a head. No, brudder; 'musements in de church is unsanctifying, howsomever folks may think 'bout it. We had a festibal in our meetin'-house two weeks back. I looks in a few minutes, and sees de crowds dare and de doin's. Fust de pianny and de fiddle strikes up and sez I, " Take off de 'straint, and how long 'fore dis whole

2IO ADONIRAM JUDSON GORDON

company'd be a-dancin' and a-vvaltzin' in de house ob God? " Den dey had de guess-cake and de waffles, and waffled off a caHca quilt to de one dat drawed de prize; and sez I, " What's dis but eddicatin' people to gamblin' and lotteries? " Den de gramatic reader comes on, all dressed up wid ribbons an' furbelows, an' when I seed her rollin' her eyes an' p'intin* her fingers, sez I ag'in, " What's dis but jus' nussin' our young 'uns for de stage and de theater? " I tell you, I kicks ag'in' it, sah, and allers shall.

" ' Well, next night was prayer-meetin'; only twenty out, an' all as mum as if de Lord had never opened deir mouths, and when I warns em 'bout it dey sez, " Brudder Moses, de Sperit didn't move us." And sez I, " De Sperit moved ye fas' 'nough last evenin' at de festibal, but I'se 'fraid 'twas de sperit dat works in de children of disobedience." Brudder, I reads it dat dey dat's goin' to wear de crown must bear de cross; but what's we doin' in dese days but 'bolishin' de cross and puttin' eatin' and drinkin' and 'musement and 'dulgence in de place ob it? And whar's it goin' to end? '

" Here Moses pointed furtively to the residence in front of which we were standing, and in a confidential tone said, ' De folks dat libs here was once 'fessors ob religion, but I reckon dey's backslid, for dey don't hab no prayers in de family now, and dey's all taken up wid theaters and card-playin' and balls and parties. O brudder, I has great sorrer and trabail ob soul when I sees how de debbil prowls round and steals de Lord's sheep right out ob his fold.'

" ' Don't you think, Moses,' I asked, ' that the devil works harder to lead Christians astray than he does to destroy the people of the world? '

"'Don't I thinks? I kpows it, sah. Why d'ye s'pose I works and tugs and sweats beatin' dese carpets and doin' dese chores? 'Tain't de dollar dat's in my pocket dat I'se workin' for; I'se got dat already. It's de dollars dat's in my employer's pocket dat I'se workin' for. So if de Lord has a real shure-'nuff saint— one dat's plain stamped wid de image and 'scription ob de King, and shines like a new silver dollar— de debbil, he'll rise up early and sit up late to get hold ob dat one. But your 'bandoned sinners and your high-steppin' ones, dat's all taken up wid deir moralisms and self-righteousness, he doesn't trouble himself 'bout; he knows he's got dem already.'

" Here our report of the sidewalk discussion might properly end, but it would be an injustice to Moses to leave the impression that he is only a sour and censorious critic, who takes satisfaction in pointing out the faults of Christians. On the contrary, with an indescribable pathos and tenderness, he thus concluded his talk: ' Well, brudder, I'se prayin' 'bout it night and day. It's 'cause de Lord's children don't think, dat dey does so. You remember how he sez, " My people don't consider." Well, I'se been on de way now nigh on to forty years, and it's been my 'sperience dat a day's considerin's worth more'n a year's workin'; 'cause when we takes a day for considerin' now and den, we get's 'quainted wid de Lord, and finds out his secrets, and de Lord tells us jus' what he's doin' and what he's a-goin' to do. And, brudder, he tells me in my soul I'se goin' to see a great outpourin' ob de Sperit afore I dies. Den when Christians gets deir tongues afire, as dey did on de day ob Pentecost, how our dross will be burned up, and what a cracklin' dere will be in de hay, wood, and stubble we'se buildin' into our churches in dese days! But, brudder, 'twon't come easy. We'se got to get low before de Lord, and be ob one 'cord and in one place. Trouble is now dat ebery one's ob a different 'cord; one wants one thing, and 'nother wants 'nother. But when we gets where we all wants de same thing, so we's satisfied to lib all our days on a crust ob bread if we can only hab de Lord and de fullness ob his Sperit, den he'll come down like rain on de mown grass; and dat day's a-comin', brudder!'

" Reader, Moses is a real character, and not a myth. He

was bom in slavery, and if he is able to read it is only a recent acquirement. But his mind is saturated with the Scripture as he has caught its phraseology from the rude preachers of his race. May it not be that he is one of the ' babes ' to whom the Father has revealed some things which he has ' hid from the wise and prudent '? "

II

The pulpit of this colored church being at one time vacant, various probationers were asked to supply. The stanchly conservative deacon took a great interest in the candidates who came from time to time, and rigidly tested their orthodoxy and " pulpit style." Of one, who took with the people because of a popular narrative quality in his sermon, he complained on the ground that he was " too fond of retailing antidotes." Finally he secured a brother from South Carolina, sound, hearty, and suitable in every respect. The pastor and committee from the white church were invited up to pass judgment upon him. Coming in a little late, they found the whole gathering swaying back and forth in an ecstasy of religious excitement. The preacher, with hair kinky as astrakhan wool and a face like polished teak-wood, had worked them to a pitch of unusual fervor by his thrilling eloquence. It was a veritable plantation homily untainted by sobering New England influences.

The text was drawn from the Eighty-seventh Psalm: " And of Zion it shall be said. This and that man was born in her," When the visitors entered, the preacher was maintaining that, wherever a man's home might happen to be, his spiritual birthplace was of necessity in Zion, the joy of the earth. " Let us go to de city ob Charleston," he went on to say, " an', hubberin' ober dat great an' wicked city, let us shout down to de Lord's chillern, 'Whar war yer born?' an' dey will holler back, ' We'se born in Zion,' An' den let us go on to Richmond an' ask de breddren dere, 'Whar war yer born?' an' dey will say too, ' We'se born in Zion.' " So he passed on from city to city up the Atlantic seaboard until there were none left to question. The appeal was then carried to Greenland, and the Christians "libbin' in dat benighted Ian' " were asked, " Whar war yer born? " and returned the same unfailing answer. " An' now, breddren," he continued, "let us go to de north pole, an' twinin' our legs round de pole, let us lift up our voices and cry, ' Whar war yer born? ' " The congrega-

tion was now keyed to the highest tension. Women were

clutching the seats, men were swaying in tremulous excitement, as the rhythmic allegory proceeded.

The visiting committee looked on in astonishment from the rear of the church. It was felt that the preacher had perforce reached the end of his journey. Not at all. After pausing a moment to recover breath, he continued, " Breddren, let us go on to de east pole.'" Up to this point Gordon had sat as impassive as a statue of Memnon, the twinkle of his eye alone suggesting his appreciation of the scene; but the last flight was too much for that self-restraint which had, among his people, passed into a proverb. He broke out into uncontrollable and agonizing explosions of laughter.

There were many other black stories of a similar character. He used to recall with amusement the testimony of a freshly converted brother in the same mission. This man had formerly been a devotee of the ball-room, and confessed that, even in his renewed state, whenever his ears caught the strident note of bow on fiddle his unregenerate feet would begin to move, " like de unthinking horse rushing into battle." Gordon would tell, too, of one who, commenting on the power of the gospel, remarked that it was able " to make the immoral moral, the intemperate temperate, and the industrious dustrious." With the negro preachers of reconstruction days, whose chief ambition seemed to be to found " universities " in the " black beh," with generous powers for conferring degrees, he had in his early ministry large experience. His own church was wealthy, and well known for its quick response to appeals for help. Every few months a shining-faced darky with huge glazed bag would call at his house and talk eloquently on the promising prospects of a new college or on the great needs of the particular region where his people were putting up a church building. One of these, with an ingenuous fervor which immediately corrected the bad impression his mistake might otherwise have conveyed, declared himself to be " in a deplorable state of mendacity." ^* And another, when required by a committee-man with some sharpness to give the reason why colored collectors for feeble institutions invariably made for the Clarendon Street Church, answered archly, " When we goes shootin', sah, we alius goes whar de ducks is." It may be added that this retort touched the hearts of the committee to the extent of a substantial subscription.

Ill

Of the quaint experiences incidental to every pastor's life Gordon had his full share. Marriages always recall to a minister's family much that is amusing. Silk handkerchiefs and walking-sticks were to many whom he married, like the cowry shells of African tribes, a convenient legal tender with which to pay the customary wedding-fee. Once he received a fifty-cent piece, out of which he was asked to " take what he thought right." The fact that in seven cases out of ten he made over the fee to the bride was deeply appreciated by many. This so impressed one whom he married that he returned in a day or two with a friend and suggested that the

* i.e., mendicancy.

minister might like to pay the latter's fare to New York, whither he had been unexpectedly summoned. At funerals, too, the grotesque often entered unbidden, as when a bereaved husband requested Dr. Gordon to give out the doxology while the friends were assembling.

In visiting among the poor, the pitiful and the droll were commingled now and then in a startling way. One poor creature, in relating the various misfortunes which had befallen her, declared that some years before she had been "struck with lightnin'." " I went to the cupboard when I realized what had happened," she continued, "and took a strong emetic. After I had thrown up the electric fluid I soon recovered."

During the revival of '77 the after-meetings were held, as has been mentioned, in the Clarendon Street Church. One evening Gordon was called to the rear of the church by an Irishman, who acknowledged that he was seeking light, but who refused to talk with any save the pastor. " I want to see Dr. Garrdon. I'm goin' to give him the priferince," he reiterated again and again. The two talked together some time. Finally the son of Erin, who had been an outrageous drunkard, declared himself converted. He was not seen again for nearly a year. One smiling day in June, however, he turned up at the pastor's house in best clothes and happiest

vein. This time there was another with him. He related

how he had found work in the country as a coachman, how he had stood without drinking for a twelvemonth, and how he had won the heart of the cook in his master's establishment. " Shine an' we talked over the question of parsons atwixt us," he continued, " and decided to give Dr. Garrdon the priferince." But unfortunately " Dr. Garrdon " was away and was not to return till evening. It was agreed that the betrothed should separate till later and visit among their respective friends. The decision was, alas! fatal. The " fri'nds "

2i6 ADONIRAM JUDSON GORDON

of the groom were of a dubious, dangerous sort, and before he left them for the minister's home he had spent his all and changed his best clothes at the pawnbroker's for others of a very doubtful respectability. The wedding was now out of the question. He determined, however, to keep his engagement. It so happened that when he called Gordon himself went to the door. The battered, half-sober figure on the steps greeted him with his whole serio-comic story, and then added that, though he had " fri'nds " in the city who unquestionably would lend him enough to get back to his work, he had decided, in placing his loan, " to give Dr. Garrdon the priferince, as he knew him to be a ginerous, free man."

There can be little question that the unfriendly treatment which prophecy often receives at the hands of Christians is half due to the eccentricities of those strange folk who cherish a special delight for fantastic interpretations. One of these, a correspondent from the far West, was accustomed to write Dr. Gordon the most extravagantly long and perversely irrational letters on the Apocalypse. These he sent in the largest-size government envelops, every inch of which would be covered with titles and degrees.

Of a visit received from another of this ilk, Gordon often spoke with amusement. On entering the parlor one morning, he was startled by the peremptory question, " Do you believe this Book?" which accompanied the vigorous shaking of a Bagster Bible in front of his face.

" I think I do," was the quiet reply.

" Do you believe it from cover to cover? " inquired the stranger again.

"Yes."

" From Genesis to Revelation? "

" I do."

"Then we can proceed to business." After a pause the

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visitor continued abruptly, "Who are the two witnesses in Revelation xi.? "

" I am not sure, though I have my own opinion," replied Gordon.

"They are," retorted the other, with great positiveness, "myself and Mr. Moody."

This statement was indeed startling, but the request which followed was even more so. " Now," said he, " I will tell you what I am here for. I want you to call a meeting to ordain me for the ministry."

" But why don't you get those who are acquainted with you to do this for you— some one in your own town who knows your history and your qualifications?" returned Dr. Gordon.

" Well, to tell the truth," he replied, in a confidential tone, " they say in W, where I come from, that I am not quite level-headed; but I am."

" Yes," answered Gordon, encouragingly.

"Yes; I learned some time ago that my head has two poles, one positive, the other negative. Now every morning, when I get up, I go to the glass and, putting my hands to my head " (which he proceeded to do by way of illustration), " I bring those poles into proper balance. That makes me level-headed for the day."

With this explanation, and with a few words of regret that Dr. Gordon did not see fit to induct him into the ministry, he seized his hat, made for the door, and disappeared.

IV

It may not be out of place to record here the following interesting experience

" Opening my mail one morning," writes Dr. Gordon, " I found a most earnest appeal from a poor student in whom I

2i8 ADONIRAM JUDSON GORDON

had for some time taken much interest. He detailed the circumstances by which, in spite of his utmost endeavors, he had been brought into rare straits; debts for board and books

severely pressing him until he was utterly discouraged. He

was extremely reluctant to ask aid, and only wrote now, he said, to tell me how earnestly he had besought the Lord for deliverance and to request my prayers in his behalf. It was only a little sum that he needed to help him out of his dilemma—fifty dollars— but it was a great sum for a poor student, and he was now asking the Lord to send it. Having read his letter with real sympathy, I continued opening my mail, when, to my surprise, the next letter whose seal I broke was from a wealthy gentleman, expressing great thankfulness for a service I had rendered him a few days before, and inclosing a check of fifty dollars, which he begged me to accept as a token of his gratitude. Instantly I perceived that the poor student's prayers were heard— that the second letter contained the answer to the first; and, indorsing the check, I sent it by return mail to the young man, with my congratulations for his speedy deliverance. The noon mail of the same day brought another letter of the same sort from another college. A young colored man, full of faith and earnest desire to fit himself for useful service in the Lord's work, had made himself known to me some months before; and as he had, by his earnest piety and diligent scholarship, approved himself to his teacher, I had done what I could to help him. He now wrote, telling a pathetic story of his struggles, how sparingly he had lived, how he had failed in getting help from expected sources, and how now, having reached the end of the term, he was in debt and had nothing to pay. He too had called earnestly upon the Lord, but as yet no help had come. To show me how prudently he had lived he inclosed a list of his expenditures, which demonstrated clearly enough how poorly he had fared. Toward night I was at the telegraph

INTERMEZZO 2 ¹

office writing a despatch to the poor student to say that I would be responsible for one half of the amount needed provided he could raise the other half from Mr. W. But what his street number was I could not remember; neither could I recall just the amount needed. So I went back to the house to find his letter in order to get the exact address. On my way I called at a certain place to pay a \y^— thirtyseven dollars and fifty cents. I had written a check for the sum, and as I passed it in to the bookkeeper, he turned his book to look up the account, and said, ' This bill is paid, sir you do not owe us anything.' ^* Who paid it? ' I inquired. ' I cannot say; only I know that it was settled several weeks ago.' And so saying he handed back my check. I took it, quite surprised to find myself so much better off than I expected, and returned to my house to find the poor student's letter. Referring to it, I found that, in adding up his little list of debts, it came to just thirty-seven dollars*and fifty cents. The Lord had provided the exact amount even to the cents. I had only to indorse the Lord's check again and send it forward.

" Mark you, it was not my prayers that were answered, for I had not been moved especially to pray for these young men, not being aware of the necessity. It was not my money; the Lord provided the exact funds in each instance; but I have told you literally what happened. Does not the Lord know how to provide? "

A strange incident occurred in the vestry of Dr. Gordon's

church shortly before his death. He was standing after meeting, conversing with a few friends, when the sexton stepped up to tell him that some one in the lobby insisted on seeing him immediately. Going out in response to the call, he was accosted by a man with harsh, deep-cut features and a blotched face, who demanded money for a night's lodging in a rough. peremptory tone. Dr. Gordon replied gently that he would help him, and took out his pencil to write an order. This seemed, however, only to embitter the stranger. He broke out in violent abuse of society and of the church, denouncing God as responsible for his poverty and for the miserable estate into which he had fallen. In the course of this outburst he disclosed the fact that he had been that day discharged from prison after serving a long sentence for theft.

After several vain attempts to quiet him, Gordon desisted altogether, thinking that the man's excitement would soon subside. Meanwhile another had entered the hallway and stood listening intently. When the former paused for a moment's breath, the new-comer stepped forward and, placing his hand on his shoulder, began telling him slowly and minutely the story of the crucifixion. He described in detail the choosing of Barabbas, the procession to Golgotha, the mockery of the soldiers.

Then he spoke of the malefactors. " They nailed him between two thieves," said he. " One of them abused him and cursed him; the other repented, was forgiven, and received

the promise of the eternal companionship of Jesus." He

stopped and asked slowly, " Do you know who that man was? "

" No," retorted the other, his harsh tone softening somewhat with curiosity; " I never heard."

" Well," said he, with emotion, " it was I. For years I lived the life of a thief and outcast; for years I broke the laws of God and man. Finally I was caught and put in jail over in Charlestown. There I stayed month after month. In the quiet of my cell I saw a face, sad, tear-stained, looking at me with beseeching eyes. It followed me out of prison; it met me in a little mission down-town; it constrained me, and I yielded.

" I cried out, ' Remember me. Lord Jesus, when thou com-

INTERMEZZO 2 2

est in thy kingdom.' Immediately the promise of Paradise came to my heart.

" I was that malefactor!

There was a moment of perfect stillness. Then the stranger said in a low voice, " Yes, and I was the other."

Then he went out.