77 Sermon Illustrations on Forgiveness

The Rev. James Churchill relates, in his "Analecta," that a widowed mother lived to see her youngest son, who was a babe at her husband's death, grow up to manhood in the esteem of all but herself. His temper was mild, and his manners affable; yet it is said that when he had attained the age of twenty, he had never known what the affection of a mother was towards him; nay, nor had ever received a single kind word from her. Blessed, however, by Providence, he flourished greatly in conducting his late father's business, employing a number of men. He took his mother under his own roof, settled upon her a liberal annuity, and studied to make her happy. It was all in vain. She murmured, reproached him, and, on one occasion, rushed into the manufactory and abused him violently before all the men. The people were shocked at her conduct; and the son withdrew, overwhelmed with grief. But worse events were yet in reserve for him. She immediately commenced legal proceedings against him for an assault! The men offered readily to appear on their master's behalf. Their master thanked them, but chose rather to be accounted guilty, and suffer judgment to go by default, than to appear against his own mother: and though he had a fine to pay, this made no alteration in his conduct towards her. About three months after this, she was found dead in her bed, with marks of violence about her body. The coroner's verdict was, wilful murder, against her son. The poor youth was confined some months in prison, among the vilest of characters, to await his trial. His mind was at times distressed to a very great degree; reflecting that his character was ruined, his business nearly lost, and his prospect that of ending his days at a gallows: but what harrowed his heart most was, that all this was brought about by his own mother! Still his confidence in that Providence which watches over all, did not entirely fail him. He could exercise hope; and that hope was sustained not in vain. For as the time for his trial drew near, two of the men who had worked in his manufactory were taken up, on the charge of having committed some petty depredations; and, feeling the torments of a conscience burdened with guilt, these wretched creatures voluntarily confessed to a magistrate, that they could no longer endure the thought that so innocent and so worthy a master should lie under the vile imputation; that they were the murderers of Mrs. —; and that the idea of getting her money and jewels had induced them to strangle her one night while in her sleep! The prison doors were soon thrown open to the suffering young man; joy was diffused through the town; his character shone out with a greater lustre; God prospered his reviving business; his family increased; and his children and grandchildren treated him with the respect and tenderness which he always manifested to his mother.

John, patriarch of Alexandria, had a controversy with Nicetas, a chief man of that city, which was to be decided in a court of justice. John defended the cause of the poor, and Nicetas refused to part with his money. A private meeting was held, to see if the affair could be adjusted, but in vain; angry words prevailed, and both parties were so obstinate that they separated more offended with each other than before. When Nicetas was gone, John began to reflect on his own pertinacity, and although his cause was good, "Yet," said he, "can I think that God will be pleased with this anger and stubbornness? The night draweth on, and shall I suffer the sun to go down upon my wrath? This is impious, and opposed to the apostle's advice." He therefore sent some respectable friends to Nicetas, and charged them to deliver this message to him, and no more: "O sir, the sun is going down!" Nicetas was much affected, his eyes were filled with tears; he hastened to the patriarch, and, saluting him in the most gentle manner, exclaimed, "Father, I will be ruled by you in this or any other matter." They embraced each other affectionately, and settled the dispute instantly.

One Reuben Rouzy, of Virginia, owed the general about one thousand pounds. While President of the United States, one of his agents brought an action for the money; judgment was obtained, and execution issued against the body of the defendant, who was taken to jail. He had a considerable landed estate, but this kind of property cannot be sold in Virginia for debts unless at the discretion of the person. He had a large family, and for the sake of his children preferred lying in jail to selling his land. A friend hinted to him that probably General Washington did not know any thing of the proceeding, and that it might be well to send him a petition, with a statement of the circumstances. He did so, and the very next post from Philadelphia after the arrival of his petition in that city brought him an order for his immediate release, together with a full discharge, and a severe reprimand to the agent for having acted in such a manner. Poor Rouzy was, in consequence, restored to his family, who never laid down their heads at night without presenting prayers to Heaven for their "beloved Washington." Providence smiled upon the labors of the grateful family, and in a few years Rouzy enjoyed the exquisite pleasure of being able to lay the one thousand pounds, with the interest, at the feet of this truly great man. Washington reminded him that the debt was discharged; Rouzy replied, the debt of his family to the father of their country and preserver of their parent could never be discharged; and the general, to avoid the pressing importunity of the grateful Virginian, who would not be denied, accepted the money, only, however, to divide it among Rouzy's children, which he immediately did.

The Rev. Mr. Brown of Haddington manifested a singular readiness to forgive his enemies. Notwithstanding the abuse he received from some ministers, when a student, it was remarked, that he was never heard to speak evil of them, nor so much as to mention the affair. A dissenting clergyman, who had used him rudely, being reduced to poverty, he sent him money, and in a way which concealed the benefactor. After the clergyman's decease, he offered to take one of his destitute orphans, and bring him up with his own children. To certain writers who reviled him from the press, he meekly replied, "But now that the fact is committed, instead of intending to resent the injury these reverend brethren have done me, I reckon myself, on account thereof, so much the more effectually obliged, by the Christian law, to contribute my utmost endeavors towards the advancement of their welfare, spiritual or temporal, and am resolved, through grace, to discharge these obligations, as Providence gives me opportunity, for the same. Let them do to, or with me, what they will, may their portion be redemption through the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness of sins according to the riches of his grace; and call me what they please, may the Lord call them, "The holy people, the redeemed of the Lord." # 157. Praying for Enemies.

HEARD.—A wealthy planter in the South who had a great number of slaves, found one of them reading the Bible, and reproved him for the neglect of his work, saying there was time enough on Sundays for reading the Bible, and that on other days he ought to be in the tobacco house. The slave repeating the offence, he ordered him to be whipped. Going near the place of punishment, soon after its infliction, curiosity led him to listen to a voice engaged in prayer; and he heard the poor black implore the Almighty to forgive the injustice of his master, to touch his heart with a sense of his sin and to make him a good Christian. Struck with remorse, he made an immediate change in his life, which had been careless and dissipated, burnt his profane books and cards, liberated all his slaves, and appeared now to study how to render his wealth and talents useful to others.

# 158. Examples among the Heathen.

EXAMPLE OF CÆSAR.—It is said of Julius Cæsar, that upon any provocation, he would repeat the Roman alphabet before he suffered himself to speak, that he might be more just and calm in his resentments; and, further, that he could forget nothing but wrongs and remember nothing but benefits.

Socrates, who was as pure a teacher of morals and as near like a true Christian as any of the ancient heathen, says, "The person who has received an injury must not return it, as is the opinion of the vulgar."

When the Romans besieged Grumentum in Lucania, and the city was reduced to the last extremity, two slaves escaped into the camp of the besiegers. The place was soon afterwards taken by storm, and plundered. The two slaves then ran to the house of their mistress, whom they seized with a kind of violence, and carried off. When they were asked who she was, they answered, she was their mistress, and a most cruel mistress; upon whom they were going to take revenge for all the barbarous treatment they had suffered from her. In this way they compelled her to quit the city, and conveyed her to a safe retreat, where they concealed her with great care; and when the fury of the soldiers was abated, and tranquillity was restored in the city, they brought her back to her house, and obeyed her as before. She gave them their liberty, which was the greatest reward in her power to bestow; but certainly far short of the services they had rendered her.

A man in New Jersey told me the following circumstances respecting himself and one of his neighbors:—

"I once owned a large flock of hens. I generally kept them shut up. But, one spring, I concluded to let them run in my yard, after I had clipped their wings, so they could not fly. One day, when I came home to dinner, I learned that one of my neighbors had been there, full of wrath, to let me know my hens had been in his garden, and that he had killed several of them, and thrown them over into my yard. I was greaty enraged because he had killed my beautiful hens, that I valued so much. I determined, at once, to be revenged, to sue him, or in some way get redress. I sat down and ate my dinner, as calmly as I could. By the time I had finished my meal, I became more cool, and thought that perhaps it was not best to fight with my neighbor about hens, and thereby make him my bitter, lasting enemy. I concluded to try another way, being sure that it would do better.

"After dinner, I went to my neighbor's. He was in his garden. I went out, and found him in pursuit of one of my hens with a club, trying to kill it. I accosted him. He turned upon me, his face inflamed with wrath, and broke out in a great fury—

"You have abused me. I will kill all your hens, if I can get at them. I never was so abused. My garden is ruined."

"I am very sorry for it," said I. "I did not wish to injure you, and now see that I have made a great mistake in letting out my hens. I ask your forgiveness, and am willing to pay you six times the damage."

"The man seemed confounded. He did not know what to make of it. He looked up to the sky—then down to the earth—then at his neighbor—then at his club—and then at the poor hen he had been pursuing, and said nothing.

"Tell me, now," said I, "what is the damage, and I will pay you six-fold; and my hens shall trouble you no more. I will leave it entirely to you to say what I shall do. I cannot afford to lose the love and good will of my neighbors, and quarrel with them, for hens, or any thing else."

"I am a great fool," said the neighbor. "The damage is not worth talking about; and I have more need to compensate you than you me, and to ask your forgiveness than you mine."

Kindness and forgiveness to those who insult and abuse us, is often the means, in the hands of God, of making them Christians. You exhibit religion before them in a most attractive and engaging form, if you are known as one of its professors. Besides, when by treating an enemy in this way you have roused his conscience, and led him to feel shame and contrition for what he has done to you, it is natural at such a time that his excited conscience should turn on his sins towards God, and lead him to repentance.

The Holy Spirit, I doubt not, often avails itself of this softened state of the heart, to break it down into penitence before God.

As some rude and irreligious sailors were at work calking a vessel in a certain harbor, they noticed, at a little distance, a very aged and exemplary Christian quietly engaged in his business. He was noted for his generous, peaceful, forgiving disposition.

One sailor says to another, "You can't make that old man angry by any offence you can offer him."

The sailor who was addressed, at once accepted the challenge. He snatched up the bucket of tar that stood by him, ran up to the old man, and very unexpectedly dashed its contents upon him.

He looked up at the sailor with surprise at this wanton and unprovoked act of malignity, and said to him in a mild voice, "Young man, the Savior says, 'Whoso shall offend one of these little ones that believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck and that he were cast into the depths of the sea.' Now if I am one of these little ones, you have very much offended me."

The young sailor turned away perplexed and chagrined at the spirit the injured saint exhibited. He felt convinced that the man's religion was of a more sublime, noble and vital character than he had usually thought the Christian religion to be. He came back to his companions confessing that the old man had triumphed.

The image of the old man bearing the marks of his abuse, and looking with so much mingled pity and displeasure at him, was painted indelibly upon his memory. He was gone, but the sailor seemed to see him still! And that mild, but terrible reproof, too, the language still rung in his ear. The more he thought of the old man, the more he thought of the power and beauty of religion. The more he thought of himself, the more ashamed and miserable did he feel. The entire wickedness of his heart and life seemed to come under the review of conscience also. His distress became insupportable.

Some time afterwards he went to see the old man whom he had so wickedly treated; he asked him to forgive him, and to pray for him too. He was very ready to do both; and not long after, if I remember right, the sailor became a hopeful Christian.

There is reason to believe that many sinners might be converted from the error of their ways, if they should meet such a spirit as the sailor did in every professed Christian whom they might insult or abuse.

# 162. Miscellaneous.

Says General P. of Virginia, "When I was a young man I went to hear Mr. Lee preach at — meeting-house. There was a very large crowd in attendance, and a great many could not get into the house. Among others I got near the door, and being fond of show and frolic, I indulged in some indiscretion, for which Mr. Lee mildly but plainly reproved me. In an instant all the bad feelings of my heart were aroused. I was deeply insulted, and felt that my whole family was disgraced. I retired from the crowd to brood over the insult, and meditate revenge. It was not long before I resolved to whip him before he left the ground. I kept the resolution to myself; and watched with the eager intensity of resentment, the opportunity to put it in execution. But the congregation was dismissed and dispersed, and I saw nothing of the preacher. How he escaped me I could never learn. But I 'nursed my wrath to keep it warm;' and cherished the determination to put it into execution the first time I saw Mr. Lee, although long years should intervene. Gradually, however, my feelings subsided; and in the lapse of a few years the whole affair faded away from my mind. Thirteen years passed over me, and the impetuosity of youth had been softened down by sober manhood. I was standing upon the downhill of life!

On a beautiful morning in the early spring, being from home on business, I saw, a few hundred yards before me, an elderly looking man jogging slowly along in a single gig. As soon as I saw him, it struck me, that's Jesse Lee. The name, the man, the sight of him, recalled all my recollections of the insult, and all my purposes of resentment. I strove to banish them all from my mind. But the more I thought the warmer I became. My resolution stared me in the face; and something whispered coward in my heart if I failed to fulfil it. My mind was in a perfect tumult, and my passions waxed strong. I determined to execute my resolution to the utmost; and full of rage I spurred my horse, and was soon at the side of the man that I felt of all others I hated most. I accosted him rather rudely with the question, "Are you not a Methodist preacher?" "I pass for one," was the reply, and in a manner that struck me as very meek. "Ain't your name Jesse Lee?" "Yes: that's my name." "Do you recollect preaching in the year — at — meeting, house?" "Yes; very well." "Well, do you recollect reproving a young man for some misbehavior?" After a short pause for recollection, he replied, "I do." "Well," said I, "I am that young man; and I determined I would whip you for it the first time I saw you. I have never seen you from that day to this; and now I intend to carry out my purpose."

As soon as I had finished speaking, the old man stopped his horse, and looking me full in the face, said, "You are a younger man than I am. You are strong and active; and I am old and feeble. I have no doubt but, if I were disposed to fight, you could whip me very easily; and it would be useless for me to resist. But as a man of God I must not strive! So as you are determined to whip me, if you will just wait, I will get out of my gig, and get down on my knees, and you may whip me as long as you please." "Never," said the old general, "was I so suddenly and powerfully affected. I was completely overcome. I trembled from head to foot. I would have given my estate if I had never mentioned the subject. A strange weakness came over my frame. I felt sick at heart, ashamed, mortified and degraded, I struck my spurs into my horse, and dashed along the road with the speed of a madman. I am now old; few and full of evil have been the days of the years of my life, yet I am not without hope in God. I have made my peace with him who is the 'judge of the quick and dead;' and hope ere long to see that good man of God with feelings very different from those with which I met him last."

RESISTANT.—The Rev. John Pomphret, an English Methodist minister, always advocated the practical applicability of the "peace doctrine,"—"If a man will sue thee at law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also; and if he compel thee to go with him a mile, go with him twain,"—always declaring that if he should be attacked by a highwayman, he should put it in practice. Being a cheesemonger, (he preached without wages,) on his return from market one day, after he had received a large amount of money from his customers for the purpose of replenishing his year's stock, he was accosted by a robber, demanding his money, and threatening his life if he refused. The reverend peace-man coolly and kindly replied, "Well, friend, how much do you want, for I will give it to you, and thus save you from the crime of committing highway robbery?" "Will you certainly give me what I require?" asked the robber. "I will, in truth, if you do not require more than I have got," replied the non-resistant. "Then I want fifteen pounds," (about seventy-five dollars.) The required sum was counted out to him, and in gold, instead of in bank-bills, which, if the numbers had been observed, the reverend father, by notifying the bank, could have rendered uncurrent, besides leaving the robber liable to detection in attempting to pass them, telling him at the same time why he gave the gold instead of bank-notes; and saying, "Unfortunate man, I make you welcome to this sum. Go home. Pay your debts. Hereafter, get your living honestly."

Years rolled on. At length the good preacher received a letter, containing principal and interest, and a humble confession of his sins, from the robber, saying that his appeals waked up his slumbering conscience, which had given him no rest till he had made both restitution and confession, besides wholly changing his course of life.

# 293. Transforms Aggressors into Friends.

A person came to Mr. Longdon one day and said, "I have something against you, and I am come to tell you of it." "Do walk in, sir," he replied; "you are my best friend: if I could but engage my friends to be faithful with me, I should be sure to prosper; but, if you please, we will both pray in the first place, and ask the blessing of God upon our interview." After they rose from their knees, and had been much blessed together, he said, "Now I will thank you, my brother, to tell me what it is that you have against me." "Oh," said the man, "I really don't know what it is; it is all gone, and I believe I was in the wrong."

# PRAYER ANSWERED.

331. Prayer Answered by God's Providential Control of Material and Animal Agencies.

A clergyman in New-York state, in early life, had engaged in business which led him to buy a good deal of coal; and after he became a minister of the Gospel, two of his members, who were making a bargain respecting a load of coal, agreed to leave it to their minister to decide how much the load contained. He accordingly acceded to their request, and told them how much it contained, or how to find out the amount it contained, by the law of the state. The member who wished to buy, was well pleased; the one who wished to sell, was quite dissatisfied. After the minister left them, the former came to see him, and stated that the brother who sold the coal had just said—that he did not believe what his minister had stated; that if he was a minister, he was not too good to lie, &c. The Rev. Mr. S., in the first place, felt deeply wounded, and strongly inclined to go and give the rash and unkind brother a severe rebuke. But on reflecting a moment, he replied to his informant, "I presume Brother — does not really think so;" and under that conviction he determined to take no notice of it, and treat the brother's offence with silence. The offender came afterwards to see his pastor; and his uneasy and anxious appearance seemed to say—"I wish you would call me to account for my expressions against you;" but the pastor studiously avoided all reference to them. And now, as if to appease his own conscience, the offender, who before had been quite indifferent to his minister, began to load him with his kindnesses, and became one of his warmest friends.