34 Sermon Illustrations on Compassion for the Needy

and you formed a humanities club and discussed my hunger. Thank you. I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your chapel in the cellar and prayed for my release. I was naked and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance. I was sick and you knelt and thanked God for your health. I was homeless and you preached to me about the spiritual shelter of the love of God. I was lonely and you left me alone to pray for me. Christian, you seem so holy; so close to God. But I am still very hungry, and lonely, and cold... This poignant poem is an obvious modification of the words of Jesus Himself as recorded in Matthew 25:35-36: "For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me. I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me. I was in prison and you came to me."

Dr. W. H. Lax was a Methodist minister in the East End of London for 38 years. He learned that an old man was gravely ill, and Dr. Lax called on him. However, he was an unwelcome visitor, for as soon as the sick man caught sight of Lax's clerical collar, he turned his head and refused to utter a word. While trying to sustain a conversation, Dr. Lax noted the dreariness of the room and the pitifully small fire; he suspected that provisions had run low. When he left the patient, Dr. Lax stopped at a butcher shop and had two lamb chops sent to the house. He called again a few days later, and though the old man was still far from talkative, he was a little more friendly. On the way home another order was left with the butcher. By the third visit, there was a pronounced change in the patient. He was congenial and even outgoing, and before leaving, Dr. Lax was even able to pray with the man. A preaching engagement took Dr. Lax out of London for a few days, and when he got back he was informed that the old gentleman had died. At the end when he was hardly able to speak, the patient had gasped, "Tell Dr. Lax it is all right now. I am going to God; but be sure to tell him that it was not his preaching that changed me. It was those lamb chops." Who Wants to Be a Square? In Mark Twain's day, "square" was one of the best words in the language. You gave a man a square deal if you were honest. You gave him a square meal when he was hungry. When you got out of debt, you were square with the world. And that was when you could look your fellow man square in the eye. Then a lot of characters ran down the word. Result: A square today is a man who never learned to get away with it; a Joe who volunteers when he does not have to; a guy who gets his kick from trying to do something better than anyone else can; a boob who gets lost in his work. This country was discovered, put together, fought for and saved by "squares"-Nathan Hale, Patrick Henry, Paul Revere, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin. We need to get back to this nation's old beliefs in such things as ideas, pride, patriotism, loyalty, devotion-even hard work. The Gift He Never Received Billy Graham relates the story of a wealthy father who provided well for his only son. One day, the boy came to his father and said he was dropping out of school and leaving home. Asked why, the son said, "Well, Dad, the truth of it is, I hate you." The father was stunned and demanded, "Why, son, why? I have given you everything, have I not?" "Well, that is just it. You have not. You may have thought you bought me everything, but you have not given me anything to believe in."

A woodchuck once helped himself to what vegetables he wanted in Mr. Webster's garden. Ezekiel Webster, his son, set a trap and caught him, and said, "Now we'll kill the thief: you've done mischief enough to die, Mr. Woodchuck, and you shall die." His brother Daniel pleaded for his release. The case was brought before the father, who acted as judge. Ezekiel presented the vicious habits of the prisoner, the damage already done to the garden, and the value of his skin, as reasons why he ought to die. Daniel pleaded that the woodchuck was one of the creatures of God, not particularly vicious, having a right to food, life, and liberty. He urged the cruelty of taking the life of the helpless creature. The plea so moved the father that he cried, "Zeke, Zeke, let the woodchuck go!" This was Daniel Webster's first case, won when he was only ten years old.

A stout lady, whose husband went home so drunk that he had to go immediately to bed, sewed him up in a blanket; then took a cowhide, and with all her strength commenced beating the dust out of the blanket, and the rum out of her husband. Yells and screams came from the blanket, but had no effect till the husband was thoroughly sobered. The result was good: he never got drunk again.

One extremely cold day, two travellers, wrapped in furs, were hurrying over the snows of Lapland. They came upon a poor, benumbed man, overcome with the cold. "We must stop and help him," said one. The other refused, for fear of freezing. The sledge stopped; and the first hastened to the relief of the perishing man. Success attended his efforts; and a life was saved. He even grew warmer in his work, besides having the approval of conscience; while his friend, afraid of exposing himself, was nearly frozen.

A sergeant and his wife in India, having no children, adopted first an orphan babe, then a little native child left uncared for. Afterwards, two orphans more were added to their family, making four in all. The regiment was ordered to march about two hundred miles. "What will you do now with your adopted family?" asked a lady of the sergeant's wife. "You will have to leave them behind." — "Leave my children!" said this noble-hearted woman. "No, never! They shall all go with us: we could not part with one of them."

A shopkeeper, who resided two or three days' journey from Paris, preserved his good conduct and integrity for many years. At last, by some persons taking undue credit, and keeping him too long out of his money, he was obliged to take a journey to Paris, to desire two things of his creditors: the one was a lengthening out their forbearance; and the other was, to be furnished with a fresh assortment of goods, that he might keep open his shop with credit. They were so pleased with the honesty and frankness of the man, that they all agreed to grant his request, except one; this was his chief creditor, a proud and haughty merchant, who had never felt any adversity, and knew not how to sympathize with the afflicted. "So," said he, "I find, by your asking for a prolongation of credit, and a further indulgence of goods, that you are going down hill; and therefore I am resolved to have my money." Accordingly, he sent immediately for an officer, who arrested the poor man and carried him to jail. In this distressing situation, he wrote home to his wife, who communicated the news to her six children: they were all overwhelmed in sorrow. What could be done? To sit still in despair, was the ready way to ruin. After a deliberate conversation with her eldest son, a young man of fine sense and excellent virtue, about nineteen years of age, he resolved to fly to Paris, with a view to soften this cruel creditor. After a short interview with his father, he went to the house of the merchant, sent in his name, and desired an audience. The cruel and haughty man, thinking he had come to pay him, admitted him into his presence; but he soon found that his first request was, that he should release his father from jail, to go home and comfort his mother, and keep up the credit of the shop. The merchant, being disappointed in his expectation, flew into a violent passion, and declared he would have the money or the bones of his father. The young man, finding him inexorable, fell down on his knees, and with uplifted hands and tears rolling down his cheeks, he addressed himself to the merchant in this manner:—"Sir," said he, "if I go home without my father, I shall see my mother die with a broken heart, the credit of the shop will be entirely ruined, and we, the poor children, must be turned as vagabonds and beggars into the open street. I have this one, this last request to make—let me be sent to jail in the room of my father, and keep me there until all demands are satisfied." The merchant walked backwards and forwards in the room with great emotion. The young man continued his cries and entreaties on his knees. At last the merchant flew to him with great tenderness and took hold of his hand. "Rise, young man," said he: "I have but one daughter in the world, for whose happiness I am concerned; I'll give thee my daughter—she must be happy with a fellow of thy virtue; I'll settle upon you all my fortune; I'll release your father out of prison, and make you all happy together." And he was as good as his word.

A negro of one of the kingdoms on the African coast, who had become insolvent, surrendered himself to his creditor, who, according to the established custom of the country, sold him to the Danes. This afflicted his son so much that he came and reproached his father for not selling his children to pay his debts; and after much entreaty, he prevailed on the captain to accept him, and liberate his father. The son was put in chains, and on the point of sailing to the West Indies; when the circumstance coming to the knowledge of the governor, through the means of Mr. Isert, he sent for the owner of the slaves, paid the money that he had given for the old man, and restored the son to his father.

The following generous instance of heroism in a peasant, has somewhat even of the sublime in it. A great inundation having taken place in the north of Italy, owing to an excessive fall of snow in the Alps, followed by a speedy thaw, the river Adige carried off a bridge near Verona, except the middle part, on which was the house of the tollgatherer, who with his whole family thus remained imprisoned by the waves, and in momentary expectation of certain destruction. They were discovered from the banks, stretching forth their hands, screaming, and imploring succor, while fragments of this only remaining arch were continually dropping into the impetuous torrent. In this extreme danger, the Count of Pulverini, who was a spectator, held out a purse of one hundred sequins, as a reward to any adventurer who would take a boat and save this unhappy family. But the risk of being borne down by the rapidity of the stream, and being dashed against the fragment of the bridge, and of being crushed by the falling of the heavy stones, was so great that not one of the vast number of lookers-on had courage enough to attempt such an exploit. A peasant passing along was informed of the promised reward. Immediately jumping into a boat, he, by amazing strength of oars, gained the middle of the river, and brought the boat under the pile, when the whole terrified family safely descended into it by means of a rope. "Courage," cried he, "now you are safe!" By a still more strenuous effort, and great strength of arm, he brought the boat and family to shore. "Brave fellow!" exclaimed the Count, handing the purse to him; "here is your promised recompense." "I shall never expose my life for money," answered the peasant; "my labor affords a sufficient livelihood for myself, my wife and my children; give the purse to this poor family who has lost its all!"

The life of adjutant Martinel is full of the most striking and sublime exhibitions of a heroic and self-clinying benevolence.

In 1820, at Strasburg, a soldier fell into the river Ill, near the sluices of a mill; the place apparently left no chance for help. Hearing the despairing cries of a woman, Martinel, who was passing, threw himself in, with all his clothes on, and without looking to see if there was a chance for his life or not, he swam directly towards the sluice; and there supporting himself by one hand on the post of the water-gate, he attempted to seize with the other, in his passage, the unfortunate being whom a rapid current carried towards the wheel of the mill. He saw him coming, already sunk several feet under the water; it was necessary to quit the support in order to seize him, by which action he would be carried away himself. He, however, quitted it, seized the body, passed under the mill-wheel with him, carried away by the rapidity of the current, and soon reappeared on the other side of the sluice, without having let go of the poor creature, whom he carried to land, and to whom life was restored.

Another time, at Strasburg, he threw himself into greater, and more certain peril. A powder magazine was on fire, and about to blow up. An exalted sentiment of humanity and devotion impelled him on. Immediately above the magazine, (which contained a barrel of powder and a thousand packets of cartridges,) was a large chamber, used as an infirmary, where nine of his poor comrades, soldiers, were confined to their beds. The people flew on all sides. Martinel engaged several men to aid the invalids with him; and he mounted without perceiving that the increasing fire had prevented his companions from following him. He arrived alone at the door of a chamber near that in which the cartridges were kept. He found that by a fatality this door was locked. He made a battering ram of a bench, and burst it open; but, as he was about to rush in, great flames repulsed him. Then his resolution tottered, he recoiled, and was about to redescend. Then he remembered that the fire was approaching the cartridges, and that if his resolution failed him, his companions were about to be blown up. The instinct of his self-preservation then no longer stopped him; he dashed forward, closing his eyes, across the flames, and with clothes, hands, hair, face, blackened and burned, he found with joy that the cartridges were untouched. He pressed onward, and snatched away the heaps of enveloping paper, which the fire was on the point of reaching. He appeared at a window; he cried and called, "Water! water!" His presence in the powder magazine, reassuring his comrades of the imminence of the peril, they mounted; the chamber of cartridges was inundated, and the nine unfortunate invalids were saved.

# 37. Beneficence in Dying for Others.

A merchant resided many years, highly respected, at Canton and Macao, when a sudden reverse of fortune reduced him from a state of affluence to the greatest necessity. A Chinese merchant, to whom he had formerly rendered service, gratefully offered him an immediate loan of ten thousand dollars, which the gentleman accepted, and gave his bond for the amount: this the Chinese immediately threw into the fire, saying, "When you, my friend, first came to China, I was a poor man: you took me by the hand, and; assisting my honest endeavors, made me rich. Our circumstances are now reversed: I see you poor, while I have affluence." The bystanders had snatched the bond from the flames: the gentleman, sensibly affected by such generosity, pressed his Chinese friend to take the security, which he did, and then effectually destroyed it. The disciple of Confucius, beholding the renewed distress it occasioned, said he would accept of his watch or any little valuable, as a memorial of their friendship. The gentleman immediately presented his watch, and the Chinese, in return, gave him an old iron seal, saying, "Take this seal: it is one I have long used, and possesses no intrinsic value: but as you are going to India, to look after your outstanding concerns, should misfortune further attend you, draw upon me for any sum of money you may stand in need of, seal it with this signet, sign it with your own hand, and I will pay the money."

SPENT SHILLING.—A gentleman from the country, passing through the streets of the metropolis, saw a poor man who had formerly been employed by him as a laborer, and his circumstances were those of extreme poverty and distress. He had come up to London to seek employment; but, failing to obtain it, was reduced to a state of extreme destitution. The gentleman gave him a shilling and passed on, perhaps scarcely recollecting the circumstance, till it was recalled to his mind by the man himself, whom, about twelve months afterwards, he met again, and whose decent clothing and cheerful looks indicated a favorable change in his circumstances. "Sir," said the poor fellow, "I am bound to bless you, and pray for you as long as I live; that shilling you gave me has been the making of me: bad enough I wanted it for food; but I was resolved first to turn it round: so I went up and down one of the principal streets, and collected as many hare-skins as it would purchase; these I disposed of, and contented myself with such food as the profits would afford, still reserving the shilling as my stock in trade. By degrees I saved a little more, and to you, sir, I am indebted for the foundation of it all. But for your timely aid, I might have perished. May a blessing attend you as long as you live."

A benevolent young lady was requested to assist two poor women, who were said to be in great distress. She went, and found two maiden females, advanced in life, dwelling in a small cellar. One was afflicted with a slow consumption; and the other was obliged to spend her whole time in waiting upon her; so that neither of them could earn any thing, and their distress was very great. The young visitor found them in want of all things but confidence in God, and hope in his mercy; and, as a follower of Him who went about doing good, she took effectual means to provide for the wants of these afflicted sisters.

In one of her visits to this abode of misery, she learned that the poor women had once themselves had the pleasure of relieving the poor. Once they were rich—once they had visited the destitute, fed the hungry, and supported the sick; but, in the war between this country and Great Britain, they lost their father—were deprived of their property in the general disorder of the times; and, when young ladies, were obliged, with their mother, to keep a boarding-house for their maintenance. Some of their boarders were soldiers; and one of them, a young man from Connecticut, never having received his soldier's pay, was unable to discharge the bill for his board. When thus poor, he was taken ill; and, for five or six weeks, these ladies waited upon him with all the kindness which a mother or sister could have done. "They cast their bread upon the waters."—But who was this soldier? And who was the young lady, who went on this errand of mercy to the cellar? The soldier, having fought his country's battles, laid aside his armor, and slept in the tomb. A son of the soldier was married to the young lady. Yes, it was the good pleasure of God, that the wife of the son of the sick soldier should comfort those who comforted him. The aged females were long assisted by the soldier's son. After many days, the bread which they cast upon the waters was returned to them. They had pity upon the poor; and the Lord was pleased, according to his gracious promise, to repay them with interest.

One of the most benevolent men, of whom history gives us any account, was Bartholomew Las Casas, bishop of Chiapa. In 1502 he accompanied Orando to Hispaniola, who had been commissioned and sent out as the Spanish governor to that island. He there witnessed, with all the pain of a naturally benevolent heart, the cruel treatment which was experienced by the native inhabitants; the deprivation of their personal rights, the seizure of their lands, their severe toil and inexorable punishment. He was deeply affected; and from that time devoted the whole of his subsequent life, a period of more than sixty years, to exertions in their behalf. Under the impulse of a most unquestionable benevolence, this good man recommended to Cardinal Ximenes, who was at that time head of Spanish affairs, the introduction of negro slaves into the West India islands, as one of the best modes to relieve the native inhabitants.

The measures of Las Casas, which tended to introduce enslaved Africans into the Spanish islands, were the results, beyond all question, of an exalted benevolence; but how wofully misdirected was such a benevolence! The injury done by it no human mind can compute.

A clergyman in the county of Tyrone had, for some weeks, observed a little ragged boy come every Sunday, and place himself in the centre of the aisle, directly opposite the pulpit, where he seemed exceedingly attentive to the service. He was desirous of knowing who the child was, and for this purpose hastened out, after the sermon, several times, but never could see him, as he vanished the moment service was over, and no one knew whence he came, or any thing about him. At length the boy was missed from his usual situation in the church, for some weeks. At this time a man called on the minister, and told him a person very ill was desirous of seeing him; but added, "I am really ashamed to ask you to go so far; but it is a child of mine, and he refuses to have any one but you; he is altogether an extraordinary boy, and talks a great deal about things that I do not understand." The clergyman promised to go, and went, though the rain poured down in torrents, and he had six miles of rugged mountain country to pass. On arriving where he was directed, he saw a most wretched cabin indeed, and the man he had seen in the morning was waiting at the door. He was shown in, and found the inside of the hovel as miserable as the outside. In a corner, on a little straw, he beheld a person stretched out, whom he recognized as the little boy who had so regularly attended his church. As he approached the wretched bed, the child raised himself up, and stretching forth his arms, said, "His own right hand hath gotten him the victory," Psa. 98: 1; and immediately expired!

IST.

was the Son of God? "Sir," he replied, "I am sorry you have put such a question to me before my children, although I think I can give you a satisfactory answer. You know, sir, when I first became concerned about my soul, and unhappy on account of my sins, I called upon you to ask for your advice, and you told me to get into company, and spend my time as merrily as I could, but not to go to hear the Methodists." "I did so," answered the ungodly minister. "I followed your advice," continued the illiterate cobbler, "for some time; but the more I trifled, the more my misery increased; and at last I was persuaded to hear one of those Methodist ministers who came into our neighborhood, and preached Jesus Christ as the Savior. In the greatest agony of mind, I prayed to Him to save me, and to forgive my sins; and now I feel that he has freely forgiven them!—and by this I know that he is the Son of God."

BEARDED BED-FELLOW.—The following circumstance happened in one of the towns of Arkansas.—A man had been drinking until a late hour at night before he started for home. Honest folks had long been in bed, and the houses were all shut and dark. The liquor he had taken was too much for him, he did not know where to go. He staggered into an empty wagon shed, and fell on the ground. For a long time he lay in all the unconsciousness of a drunken sleep, and would undoubtedly have frozen, for the snow on the ground showed the night to be very cold, had not others less insensible than himself, been around him.—This shed was a favorite resort for the hogs, which were out when the new comer arrived, but soon returned to their bed. In the utmost kindness, and with the truest hospitality, they gave their biped companion the middle of the bed; some lying on either side of him, and others acting the part of the quilt. Their warmth prevented him from being injured by his exposure. Towards morning he awoke; finding himself comfortable, in blissful ignorance of his whereabouts, he supposed himself enjoying the accommodations of a tavern, in company with other gentlemen. He reached out his hand, and catching hold of the stiff bristles of a hog, exclaimed, "Why, mister, WHEN DID YOU SHAVE LAST?"

A gentleman, near London, went to visit a woman who was sick. As he was going into the room, he saw a little girl kneeling by the side of the poor woman's bed. The little girl rose from her knees as soon as she saw the gentleman, and went out of the room. "Who is that child?" the gentleman asked. "O sir!" said the sick woman, "that is a little angel, who often comes to read her Bible to me, to my great comfort; and she has just now given me sixpence." The gentleman was so pleased with the little girl's conduct, that he wished to know how she had learned to love the word of God, and to be so kind to poor people. Finding that she was one of the scholars of a neighboring Sunday school, he went to the school, and asked for the child. She felt rather afraid when she was called to the gentleman; but he was very kind to her, and asked her if she was the little girl that had been to read the Bible to the sick woman. She said she was, The gentleman said, "My dear, what made you think of doing so?" She answered, "Because, sir, I find it said in the Bible, that 'pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this—to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction.'" "Well," said he, "and did you give her any money?" "Yes, sir." "And where did you get it?" "Sir, it was given me as a reward."