Meekness and humility can soften suspicion and open hearts to the gospel.
The Rev. Mr. R—, in a sermon before a numerous audience, composed in part of preachers, related the following anecdote, illustrative of the influence of humility in subduing a suspicious and repugnant mind.
A young preacher, said he, on going to a distant field of labor, had occasion to stop over night with a farmer, a member of a church, an honest man, but, unhappily, of a peevish, suspicious temper, that had been exasperated by several instances of imposture, in which vagrant men had availed themselves of his hospitality under the character of Christian ministers. The young preacher had just commenced his ministerial career, his appearance was not prepossessing, and he was depressed with anxiety respecting his untried field of labor. It was late in the evening when he reached the gate of the farmyard. The farmer came forth to meet him with chilling coldness. He made surly inquiries about his name, whence he came, whither he was going, etc., expressing, meanwhile, by his looks his suspicions; and giving very direct intimations about false pretensions, etc. Weary and depressed as was the stranger, he felt a momentary indignation, but, repressing it, he resolved to copy the meekness of his Master, and, by his example, if not otherwise, attempt to cure the perversity of his rustic host. He was pointed to the stable, with permission to feed his horse, and come into the house. As he approached the house he was directed to the kitchen. Some food was spread on a rude table for him. The hired men in the kitchen whispered to each other their surprise that he was not invited into the parlor. Though of humble origin himself, he felt keenly the indignity of his treatment: the pride of his heart for a moment revolted, and he arose to resume his journey, with the prospect of a rainy night: but he suddenly checked his feelings, and, looking to God, resolved to await patiently the result of this strange scene.
It was not long before all were called into another room for family prayers. The preacher followed the hired laborers, and took his seat in a corner. The farmer read a chapter in the Bible. At the end of it he was evidently embarrassed by an inward struggle, not knowing what to do; but, finally, turning to the preacher, he abruptly asked him to pray.
They knelt down, and the young man, oppressed with feelings which prayer could best relieve, poured out his soul and tears before God. A divine influence came down on all present, they sobbed around him. The meek pathos of his tones, the spirituality of his sentiments, the evangelical views involved in the prayer, and its prevailing earnestness, struck all present. The morose farmer, subdued and melted, approached him at the conclusion of the prayer, and, in the presence of the family, with flowing tears, begged his pardon. "I should not have been so suspicious," said he, "but I have
"seen all day under a strong temptation of the adversary—my mind has been irritable—my conduct towards you tonight, is a mystery to myself; I cannot account for it, even by the state of my mind during the day. I have not been myself, or I would not have so treated you. Forgive me, sir. How have you been able to endure it?" "My Lord," replied the youthful preacher, "has said, 'Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart.' It is my ambition to do so. Try, my brother, to learn the same lesson." It was the keenest rebuke that could be given to the farmer; he felt its pertinency, made the humblest acknowledgments, and begged his maltreated guest to tarry at the house several days, and preach to the family and neighbors. His engagements would not allow him to remain so long; but, such was the importunity of his host, that he consented to preach next day. That night he reposed in the best chamber in the house, and his rest was sweetened by the thought that he had conquered a perverse mind by an example of meekness. The next day he preached with deep effect, and went on his journey with the prayers and blessings of the farmer.
"And what do you suppose," said the Rev. Mr. R—, "was the result? The old farmer was a better man ever after: the sermon had a salutary influence on the whole neighborhood, several were awakened, and among them, three of the farmer's children; two of them have since gone safe to heaven. Ah! it is the temper of Christ that fits us for usefulness!"