Broad Arrow by Caroline Leakey — Read

IT was now the Sunday after the funeral. The congregation, free and bond, were surprised to see Mr. Herbert take his accustomed place in the desk, and still more surprised were they to see him enter the pulpit to preach his own child's funeral sermon. All waited for when the stricken father should arise from his knees and commence that lament over which all had prepared themselves to weep. All looked forward to experiencing a luxurious tenderness when the minister should merge into the parent, and yield himself to sorrowful recollections of the past. A sensation of astonishment, therefore, ran through the whole people, when in a voice loud, clear, and, if possible, more sonorous than usual, Mr. Herbert, looking calmly around him, thrice repeated slowly and distinctly, no funeral text, but Agrippa's words--'Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.' Then dropping his voice into a low, earnest tone, he said: 'My friends, I thank you all for your kindness to my departed child. I am about to leave you; to your care I commit that grave lying in your Isle of the Dead. To your attention I commend her who lies within that grave. My bond brethren, you who are the same flesh and blood, heart and soul, I implore you to note that grave. I do not by this ask you to keep it in order--your own kind feelings will prompt you to do that unbidden; but this I do ask you, to attend to that grave as a voice from God, as a voice from heaven, bidding you go to Christ. And, oh, would God that the answer of your hearts might be, not ALMOST, but "ALTOGETHER thou persuadest me to be a Christian." Could but one such voice reach my ear, I should bless God for my child's death in this place. I should bless Him to eternity that in this far-off isle, on which mine eye may never rest again, I leave her to the stranger's care.'

An earnest appeal succeeded, in which he implored weary souls to pine not for the rest that island could afford, but for the rest wherewith the Saviour can refresh the heavy laden.