A LITTLE LAMP.
ISA DÁS, as has been related, had been much despised and abused after
becoming a Christian; and even after the first excitement after his
baptism had passed away, when prevailing sickness made even enemies
avail themselves of his medical skill, it was not forgotten that he was
one who had broken caste. Hindus took his medicines as if they feared
pollution, and if they gave in return cowries or pice, they dropped
them into the Christian's hand, avoiding oven the touch of one whom
they deemed unclean.
But when the rumour spread through the town that Isa Dás was going to
quit it, that he was now the confidential Munshi of a grand Government
Sahib, in whose service he was sure to make heaps of rupees, a great
change came over his neighbours.
"Trust my word for it, Isa Dás will make his fortune at last!" cried
the woman who had been the first to bring to him her almost expiring
child. "This morning I saw him walk through the bazaar, looking like a
fakir, with clothes that would hardly hold together. This evening he is
wearing a good turban, and a blanket with a border of red, and looks
like a sardar. We did not value him enough while we had him, and now he
is going away!"
"Hae! Hae!" sighed her neighbour, who had once been vociferous in abuse
of the newly-made Christian. "Who will now come to us in our need? Who
will ease our pain, and give back health to the sick, and watch by the
dying? Alas! That Isa Dás should leave us!"
Is it not written that "When a man's ways please the Lord, He maketh
even his enemies to be at peace with him"? (Prov. xvi. 7).
Isa Dás had a good many farewell visits to pay, but his time for
preparation was so short that he could only go to a few. Amongst these
few was Gopal, the kahar.
"We are never likely to meet again in this world; would that I had any
sure hope of a meeting in the next!" said Isa Dás. "I have talked with
that man, I have prayed for him, I have tried to lead him to Christ;
but I sometimes fear that the seed of the Word has been with him like
that sown by the wayside, which the birds of the air carried away."
When Isa Dais reached Copal's door, to his surprise and pleasure,
he heard within the mud-built dwelling the familiar voice of his
missionary friend. Isa Dás entered through the low doorway, and as he
stood in the half-darkened room, he heard the sick man thus answer some
question put by the missionary.
"O sir! It was goodness—mercy—love that drew me towards the Saviour. I
remember the proverb, 'As the Goru is, so is the disciple;' as is the
Deity, so is the worshipper. I thought, 'if all men should follow the
examples of Khrishna and Mahadeo, the world would not be fit to live
in; if all women were like the goddesses Kali and Doorga, the land
would be running with blood. If theft, lying, and murder be crimes in a
human being, can they be worthy of gods?'"
"The deities whom you speak of never existed; they are but the
creation of men's minds, and those very wicked polluted minds," said
the missionary. "He must have been deeply sunk in vice indeed who
could even imagine such wickedness as your so-called religious books
attribute to the false gods whom you worship."
"I only worship the one true God," replied Gopal faintly. "I cast
myself, sinner as I am, at the feet of the Holy One who died for
sinners."
"Has this change come from the teaching of your friend Isa Dás?" asked
the missionary, who saw the Christian standing within the dwelling.
"Not so much from his teaching as from his life," replied the kahar.
"He told me that his Master the Lord Jesus was holy, and I saw that
the servant also is holy. He told me that the Blessed One went about
doing good, and I saw that His disciple followed in His steps. He told
me that the Saviour endured wrong and insult, and in dying prayed for
His enemies; I saw Isa Dás bearing persecution in silence, and doing
good to them who did evil to him. Then I said in my heart, 'Surely this
religion is divine! It is on the good tree that good fruits grow.' From
Isa Dás I have learned that from a pure faith comes a holy life, and it
is therefore, O Sahib! that I wish to be baptised and confess Christ
before all, ere I die."
On hearing this, Isa Dás rejoiced greatly in spirit; he saw that he
had neither spoken nor suffered in vain. He knelt down by the charpai
of the dying kahar, and pressed his wasted hand, while from the
Christian's heart fervent thanksgiving arose that another precious soul
had been drawn out of the slavery of sin, into the glorious freedom of
God.
"Isa Dás, I see that you have not forgotten that word of the Lord, 'Let
your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works,
and glorify your Father which is in heaven,'" (Matt. v. 16), said his
missionary friend.
"My light; oh, it is unworthy of the name!" exclaimed Isa Dás,
shrinking more from praise than he had done from persecution. "My light
is as the feeble spark in the earthen lamp, the lamp made of the clay
which is in itself so worthless that men trample it under foot! What
was I a year ago but a poor idolater, a worshipper of Shiv, with his
mark on my forehead!" *
* Natives often draw lines on their foreheads, and from these lines
being horizontal or perpendicular may be known which of the false gods
they specially adore.
"And now," said his friend, "on that brow the water of baptism has been
sprinkled, the sign of the cross has been made. Hereafter, through the
merits of Christ, there may the crown of glory shine! God grant that
both to you and this new believer may be fulfilled the promise made to
Christ's redeemed, 'His servants shall serve Him, and they shall see
His face, and His name shall be in their foreheads'" (Rev. xxii. 3, 4).
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