CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
THE GREAT CHANGE.
Punctual to the day and the hour, the missionary returned to Ned'sgarret.
Much and earnestly had he prayed, in the meantime, that the man might beguided in his search after truth, and that to himself might be givenwords of wisdom which might have weight with him.
But the missionary's words were not now required.
God had spoken to the rough man by his own Word. The Holy Spirit hadcarried conviction home.
He had also revealed the Saviour, and the man was converted before themissionary again saw him. Reader, we present no fancy portrait to you.
Our fiction had its counterpart in actual life. Ned Frog, in essentialpoints at least, represents a real man--though we have, doubtless,saddled on his broad shoulders a few unimportant matters, which perhapsdid not belong to him.
"I believe that this is God's Word, my friend," he said, extending hishand, the moment the missionary entered, "and in proof of that I willnow ask you to kneel with me and pray."
You may be sure that the man of God complied gladly and with a fullheart.
We may not, however, trace here the after-course of this man in detail.For our purpose it will suffice to say that this was no mere flash inthe pan. Ned Frog's character did not change. It only received a newdirection and a new impulse. The vigorous energy and fearlessdetermination with which he had in former days pursued sin andself-gratification had now been turned into channels of righteousness.
Very soon after finding Jesus for himself, he began earnestly to desirethe salvation of others, and, in a quiet humble way, began with the poorpeople in his own stair.
But this could not satisfy him. He was too strong both in body and mindto be restrained, and soon took to open-air preaching.
"I'm going to begin a mission," he said, one day, to the missionary whohad brought him to the Saviour. "There are many stout able fellows herewho used to accept me as a leader in wickedness, and who will, perhaps,agree to follow me in a new walk. Some of them have come to the Lordalready. I'm goin', sir, to get these to form a band of workers, andwe'll take up a district."
"Good," said the missionary, "there's nothing like united action. Whatpart of the district will you take up yourself, Ned?"
"The place where I stand, sir," he replied. "Where I have sinned therewill I preach to men the Saviour of sinners."
And he did preach, not with eloquence, perhaps, but with such fervourthat many of his old comrades were touched deeply, and some were broughtto Christ and joined his "Daniel Band." Moreover, Ned kept to his owndistrict and class. He did not assume that all rich church-goers arehypocrites, and that it was his duty to stand in conspicuous places andhowl to them the message of salvation, in tones of rasping discord. No,it was noted by his mates, as particularly curious, that the voice ofthe man who could, when he chose, roar like a bull of Bashan, had becomesoft and what we may style entreative in its tone. Moreover, he did nottry to imitate clerical errors. He did not get upon a deadly monotonewhile preaching, as so many do. He simply _spoke_ when he preached--spoke loud, no doubt, but in a tone precisely similar to that in which,in former days, he would have seriously advised a brother burglar toadopt a certain course, or to carefully steer clear of another course,in order to gain his ends or to avoid falling into the hands of thepolice. Thus men, when listening to him, came to believe that he wasreally speaking to them in earnest, and not "preaching!"
Oh! that young men who aim at the high privilege of proclaiming the"good news" would reflect on this latter point, and try to steer clearof that fatal rock on which the Church--not the Episcopal, Presbyterian,or any other Church, but the whole Church militant--has been bumping solong to her own tremendous damage!
One point which told powerfully with those whom Ned sought to win was,that he went about endeavouring, as far as in him lay, to undo the evilthat he had done. Some of it could never be undone--he felt thatbitterly. Some could be remedied--he rejoiced in that and went about itwith vigour.
For instance, he owed several debts. Being a handy fellow and strong,he worked like a horse, and soon paid off his debts to the lastfarthing. Again, many a time had he, in days gone by, insulted anddefamed comrades and friends. These he sought out with care and beggedtheir pardon. The bulldog courage in him was so strong that in formerdays he would have struck or insulted any man who provoked him, withoutreference to his, it might be, superior size or strength. He now wentas boldly forward to confess his sin and to apologise. Sometimes hisapologies were kindly received, at other times he was rudely repelledand called a hypocrite in language that we may not repeat, but he tookit well; he resented nothing now, and used to say he had been madeinvulnerable since he had enlisted under the banner of the Prince ofPeace.
Yet, strange to say, the man's pugilistic powers were not rendereduseless by his pacific life and profession.
One day he was passing down one of those streets where even the policeprefer to go in couples. Suddenly a door burst open and a poor drunkenwoman was kicked out into the street by a big ruffian with whom Ned wasnot acquainted. Not satisfied with what he had done, the roughproceeded to kick the woman, who began to scream "murder!"
A crowd at once collected, for, although such incidents were commonenough in such places, they always possessed sufficient interest to drawa crowd; but no one interfered, first, because no one cared, and,second, because the man was so big and powerful that every one wasafraid of him.
Of course Ned interfered, not with an indignant statement that the manought to be ashamed of himself, but, with the quiet remark--
"She's only a woman, you know, an' can't return it."
"An' wot 'ave _you_ got to do with it?" cried the man with a savagecurse, as he aimed a tremendous blow at Ned with his right-hand.
Our pugilist expected that. He did not start or raise his hands todefend himself, he merely put his head to one side, and the huge fistwent harmlessly past his ear. Savagely the rough struck out with theother fist, but Ned quietly, yet quickly put his head to the other side,and again the fist went innocently by. A loud laugh and cheer from thecrowd greeted this, for, apart altogether from the occasion of thedisagreement, this turning of the head aside was very pretty play on thepart of Ned--being a remarkably easy-looking but exceedingly difficultaction, as all boxers know. It enabled Ned to smile in the face of hisfoe without doing him any harm. But it enraged the rough to such anextent, that he struck out fast as well as hard, obliging Ned to puthimself in the old familiar attitude, and skip about smartly.
"I don't want to hurt you, friend," said Ned at last, "but I _can_, yousee!" and he gave the man a slight pat on his right cheek with one handand a tap on the forehead with the other.
This might have convinced the rough, but he would not be convinced. Nedtherefore gave him suddenly an open-handed slap on the side of the headwhich sent him through his own doorway; through his own kitchen--if wemay so name it--and into his own coal-cellar, where he measured hislength among cinders and domestic _debris_.
"I didn't want to do it, friends," said Ned in a mild voice, as soon asthe laughter had subsided, "but, you see, in the Bible--a book I'muncommon fond of--we're told, as far as we can, to live peaceably withall men. Now, you see, I couldn't live peaceably wi' this man to-day.He wouldn't let me, but I think I'll manage to do it some day, for I'llcome back here to-morrow, and say I'm sorry I had to do it. Meanwhile Ihave a word to say to you about this matter."
Here Ned got upon the door-step of his adversary, and finished off bywhat is sometimes styled "improving the occasion."
Of course, one of the first things that Ned Frog did, on coming to his"right mind," was to make earnest and frequent inquiries as to the fateof his wife and family. Unfortunately the man who might have guided himto the right sources of information--the City missionary who had broughthim to a knowledge of the truth--was seized with a severe illness, whichnot only confined him to a sick-bed for many weeks, but after
wardsrendered it necessary that he should absent himself for a long time fromthe sphere of his labours. Thus, being left to himself, Ned's searchwas misdirected, and at last he came to the heart-breaking conclusionthat they must have gone, as he expressed it, "to the bad;" that perhapshis wife had carried out her oft-repeated threat, and drowned herself,and that Bobby, having been only too successful a pupil in the ways ofwickedness, had got himself transported.
To prosecute his inquiries among his old foes, the police, was sorepugnant to Ned that he shrank from it, after the failure of one or twoattempts, and the only other source which might have been successful hefailed to appeal to through his own ignorance. He only knew of GeorgeYard and the Home of Industry by name, as being places which he hadhated, because his daughter Hetty was so taken up with them. Of coursehe was now aware that the people of George Yard did good work for hisnew Master, but he was so ignorant of the special phase of their work atthe beginning of his Christian career that he never thought of applyingto them for information. Afterwards he became so busy with his ownspecial work, that he forgot all about these institutions.
When the missionary recovered and returned to his work, he at once--onhearing for the first time from Ned his family history--put him on thescent, and the discovery was then made that they had gone to Canada. Hewrote immediately, and soon received a joyful reply from Hetty and apostscript from Bobby, which set his heart singing and his soul ablazewith gratitude to a sparing and preserving God.
About that time, however, the robust frame gave way under the amount oflabour it was called on to perform. Ned was obliged to go intohospital. When there he received pressing invitations to go out toCanada, and offers of passage-money to any extent. Mrs Frog alsooffered to return home without delay and nurse him, and only waited toknow whether he would allow her.
Ned declined, on the ground that he meant to accept their invitation andgo to Canada as soon as he was able to undertake the voyage.
A relapse, however, interfered with his plans, and thus the visit, likemany other desirable events in human affairs, was, for a time, delayed.