THE RELUCTANT FARMER.

103

to look in the next morning, and Billy thought he had come with the money, but he merely asked them what they were doing, and then took his departure, without giving them help. All that day they waited in expectation, and went home in the evening without having done any work. The next morning the same farmer appeared again, and said, "What do you want two pounds for ?" "Oh,” said Billy, "you are come, are you? We want that money for the roof yonder." The farmer then went on to say, "Two days ago it came to my mind to give two pounds for the preaching house, but as I was coming down the hill on yesterday morning, something said to me, 'If you give one pound it will be handsome;' then I thought I would give only half-a-sovereign; and then that I would give nothing. Why should I? But the Lord laid it on my mind again last night that I must give you two pounds. There it is!"

"Thank the Lord!" said Billy, and proceeded immediately to get the required timber. In answer to prayer he also obtained "reed" for thatching the roof, and by the same means timber for the forms and seats.

It was all done in a humble manner, so that he did not dream of buying any pulpit; but one day, as he was passing along the road, he saw that they were going to have a sale at the "count-house" of an old mine. He went in, and the first thing which met his eye was a strong oak cupboard, with a cornice round the top. It struck him that it would make a grand pulpit, if only it was strong enough on examination, he found it all he could desire in this respect. He thought if he could take off the top and make a “plat’ to stand upon, it would do "first-rate." He told "Father" so, and wondered how he could get it. He asked a stranger who was there, walking about, what he thought that old cupboard would go for? "Oh, for about five or six

shillings," was the reply. And while Billy was pondering how to "rise" six shillings, the same man came up and said, "What do you want that cupboard for, Billy?" He did not care to tell him, for he was thinking and praying about it. The man said, "There are six shillings for you; buy it, if you will." Billy took the money, thanking the Lord, and impatiently waited for the sale. No sooner was the cupboard put up, than he called out, "Here, maister, here's six shillin's for un," and he put the money down on the table. "Six shillings bid," said the auctioneer-" six shillings-thank you; seven shillings; any more for that good old cupboard? Seven shillings. Going-goinggone!" And it was knocked down to another man.

Poor Billy was much disappointed and perplexed at this, and could not understand it at all. He looked about for the man who had given him the six shillings, but in vain -he was not there. The auctioneer told him to take up his money out of the way. He complied, but did not know what to do with it. He went over a hedge into a field by himself, and told "Father" about it; but it was all clear"Father" was not angry about anything. He remained there an hour, and then went homewards.

As he was going along, much troubled in his mind as to this experience (for he still felt so sure he was to have that cupboard for a pulpit), he came upon a cart standing outside a public-house, with the very cupboard upon it, and some men were measuring it with a foot rule. As he came up, he heard them say, "It is too large to go in at the door, or the window either." The publican who had bought it said, “I wish I had not bid for the old thing at all; it is too good to 'scat' up for firewood." At that instant it came to Billy's mind to say, "Here, I'll give you six shillings for "Very well," said the man, taking the money; "you can have him." Then Billy began to praise the Lord,

un."

BILLY'S PULPIT.

105

and went on to say, "Father' as good as told me that I was to have that cupboard, and He knew I could not carry him home on my back, so He has found a horse and cart for me. Bless the Lord!" Promising to bring it back very soon, he led the horse down the hill, and put the old cupboard into the preaching house. "There it is!" he exclaimed, "and a fine pulpit he does make, sure enough! Now," said Billy, "I want to see thee in it. When will you come?" I could not fix for that day, or the next, but made arrangements to conduct a series of services the next week, and promised to have them in that place.

Before he left us, he made a particular inquiry about the two other houses which had been built, who lived in them, and especially if all the "dwellers were converted." Then he declared his intention to go and see the parties, and rejoice with them, and testify how fully the Lord had accomplished the promise He gave him upon that very hill, twenty years before.

According to promise, I went to Billy Bray's preachinghouse, or mission-hall. It was the first time that I had preached anywhere outside my church and schoolroom since my conversion. There it pleased the Lord to give me much help, and a great work followed, such as Billy had never seen in that place before. Several times we were detained there all night through, with penitents crying aloud for mercy, and believers rejoicing.

As a rule, the Cornish man would remain at a meeting for hours, and come again the next day, and the day after, if needful, till he felt that he could cry for mercy, and then he would begin and continue crying until he felt he could believe.

At the conclusion of these services we returned to the schoolroom, where our meetings were continued.

Our friend Billy remained with us at Baldhu, and was very useful. He spoke in the schoolroom with much acceptance and power in the simplicity of his faith, and souls were added to the Lord continually.

At this time he was very anxious for a cousin of his, a man somewhat older than himself, of the same name. This Billy was as famous for his drunkenness and dissolute habits, as the other Billy was for his faith and joy. The former used to go by the name of the "lost soul." The very children in the lanes called after him, "Ah, Billy, you are a lost soul," and laughed at him. I was then in the freshness and power of my first love, and could not help regarding this pitiable object, and considering his case; for I could not imagine why any man should remain unsaved and without Christ.

Accordingly, one wet morning, when I felt pretty sure that old Billy would not be out working in the field, I made my way down to his house. As I expected, he was at home in his chimney corner; so setting down my dripping umbrella, I told him how glad I was to find him there, for I wanted to have a talk with him.

Ah, it's all very well for you gentlemen, who have none else to do but to go about and talk; but we poor men must work." So saying, he rose up from his "settle" and went to the door.

"But, Billy, it is raining quite hard; you cannot work in rain like that."

"Can't help it; we must do our work," and so he slammed the door after him and departed.

His wife made all kinds of apologies for him, because "he was a very singular kind of man; he did not mean bad-he was 'that curious,' that he said and did curious things, and that I must not mind him.”

I confess I was much disappointed at his abrupt depaṛ

"IS THE PASSON GONE?”

107

ture from the house, but I remained a little longer, till the worst of the storm was over.

After the lapse of nearly a quarter of an hour, Billy crept back to the door, and lifting the latch quietly, whispered to his wife, "Is the passon gone?"

"No, Billy," I said, "here I am. Come in out of the wet. I am so glad you have come back ?"

"What d'yer want with me?" he inquired.

"I want to talk to you about your soul. I have been thinking much about you lately, Billy. They call you a 'lost soul.""

"What's that to you ?"

“Ah, a great deal,” I said, “because I have a message for lost people. I am not a doctor for the body; my business is about the soul."

"I ain't so bad as all that yet," he replied.

"But you are bad enough, Billy-bad enough."
"Yes, indeed," interposed his wife.

"You hold yer tongue; you're no better."

I beckoned to her to be still, and went on to say, "You are bad enough, Billy, for an old man. How old are

Up seventy years."

"Well, now, that's a Threescore years and give up the keys of the

"Seventy years!" I repeated. great age-that's the age of man. ten! It is like giving you notice to old tabernacle. I wonder why God spares your life? I am afraid you have been a cumberer of the ground all this time, Billy. Do you know why the good Lord has spared you for so long?"

"I can't tell," he said, getting more and more impatient.

"Well, do you know, I think I can tell you. He is such a loving and merciful God, He wants to have mercy on you!