[85] Ilfracombe. There I was invited to preach in the open air, a few miles distant. Preparations were made for my visit, and during the time that I was preaching, I saw a tall, gray-headed man in the crowd, weeping, and a tall young man, who looked like his sol, standing by his side, and weeping also. At the conclusion of the service they both came up to me, and the father said: “ Do you recollect giving tracts to the local militia at Barnstable, some years ago?” “Yes.” “Do you recollect anything particular of that distribution?” “ Yes, I recollect one of the grenadiers swore at me till he made me weep.” “ Stop,” said he, “ Oh, sir, I am the man! I never forgave myself for that wicked act. But I hope it has led me to repentance, and that God has forgiven me. And now, let me ask, will you forgive me?” It quite overcame me for the moment, and we parted with a prayer that we might meet in heaven. Is not this encouragement? May we not well say, one tract may save a soul.
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Philadelphia, 1877.
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