The old Allen Street Presbyterian Church building, where God's people have continued to battle against sin and Satan for some sixty-four years, has at last yielded to the pressure of the advancing tide of business on Grand Street, and been sold. The present expectation of the Church is to remain in the neighborhood, and it is hoped that a more desirable location may be obtained, and a building, suited to the times and the needs of the people, erected thereon. Farewell services will begin on Friday evening, May 6th, with the preparatory lecture, to be followed by an earnest season of prayer for the divine blessing on the exodus. On Sabbath, May 8th, the farewell communion service will be held at 11a.m.A union meeting of the Home and Ludlow Street Sabbath-schools will be held in the main audience room of the church building at 2p.m.The exercises of the Young People's Prayer and Conference Meeting will take place at seven o'clock, followed by the closing farewell service in the Church at 7.45p.m.Then the last good-by will be said in the dear old home which has been the spiritual birth-place of many, many precious souls. It is earnestly hoped that these services will bring together many who can tell of former refreshing times from the presence of the Lord, and of hallowed associations within the sacred walls of the old Allen Street Church. It is expected that some of the former pastors will be present to add interest to the occasion. It is well understood that this well-known church property has been purchased by Messrs. Ridley & Co. for $75,000. They thus secure large additional space for their enormous mercantile business. It should, perhaps, be known that the building of the Elevated road, just in front, has greatly injured "Old Allen Street," as it was popularly called, for all church purposes. The noise of the passing trains was very annoying, especially in warm weather, when windows and doors were open. The sum realized will, it is hoped, enable the congregation to build elsewhere in the neighborhood.
The old Allen Street Presbyterian Church building, where God's people have continued to battle against sin and Satan for some sixty-four years, has at last yielded to the pressure of the advancing tide of business on Grand Street, and been sold. The present expectation of the Church is to remain in the neighborhood, and it is hoped that a more desirable location may be obtained, and a building, suited to the times and the needs of the people, erected thereon. Farewell services will begin on Friday evening, May 6th, with the preparatory lecture, to be followed by an earnest season of prayer for the divine blessing on the exodus. On Sabbath, May 8th, the farewell communion service will be held at 11a.m.A union meeting of the Home and Ludlow Street Sabbath-schools will be held in the main audience room of the church building at 2p.m.The exercises of the Young People's Prayer and Conference Meeting will take place at seven o'clock, followed by the closing farewell service in the Church at 7.45p.m.Then the last good-by will be said in the dear old home which has been the spiritual birth-place of many, many precious souls. It is earnestly hoped that these services will bring together many who can tell of former refreshing times from the presence of the Lord, and of hallowed associations within the sacred walls of the old Allen Street Church. It is expected that some of the former pastors will be present to add interest to the occasion. It is well understood that this well-known church property has been purchased by Messrs. Ridley & Co. for $75,000. They thus secure large additional space for their enormous mercantile business. It should, perhaps, be known that the building of the Elevated road, just in front, has greatly injured "Old Allen Street," as it was popularly called, for all church purposes. The noise of the passing trains was very annoying, especially in warm weather, when windows and doors were open. The sum realized will, it is hoped, enable the congregation to build elsewhere in the neighborhood.
The New York DailyTribune, of the same date, thus comments on the old church:
LEAVING THEIR OLD CHURCH HOME.Yesterday the Allen Street Presbyterian Church held their last service in their present home. The building has been sold to Messrs. Ridley & Sons for mercantile purposes. The church moves temporarily to Market Street, where they will worship with the Church of the Sea and Land. There were the regular morning services, followed by communion. The church was tastefully decorated with flowers, the gift of the Bethany Society of the Church, in commemoration of their last services. On May 28, 1819, the church was organized, although the building had been dedicated on October 25, 1817. This building was in Madison Street, and when it became too small they moved to their present place in 1834.In the afternoon the home Sunday-school and the Mission school in Ludlow Street held a reunion in the home church. The programme in the afternoon and evening consisted of short addresses and music. It was a reunion of old members and new, of old pastors and people, of old officers and those whom they were accustomed to oversee. The Rev. N. D. Conkling, assisted the pastor, the Rev. D. M. Young in the services, preaching the morning sermon. There were twelve persons received into the church on profession of faith.
LEAVING THEIR OLD CHURCH HOME.
Yesterday the Allen Street Presbyterian Church held their last service in their present home. The building has been sold to Messrs. Ridley & Sons for mercantile purposes. The church moves temporarily to Market Street, where they will worship with the Church of the Sea and Land. There were the regular morning services, followed by communion. The church was tastefully decorated with flowers, the gift of the Bethany Society of the Church, in commemoration of their last services. On May 28, 1819, the church was organized, although the building had been dedicated on October 25, 1817. This building was in Madison Street, and when it became too small they moved to their present place in 1834.
In the afternoon the home Sunday-school and the Mission school in Ludlow Street held a reunion in the home church. The programme in the afternoon and evening consisted of short addresses and music. It was a reunion of old members and new, of old pastors and people, of old officers and those whom they were accustomed to oversee. The Rev. N. D. Conkling, assisted the pastor, the Rev. D. M. Young in the services, preaching the morning sermon. There were twelve persons received into the church on profession of faith.
RESOLUTIONS OF THE ALLEN STREET CHURCH.
New York, March 2, 1887.Whereas, It has pleased Almighty God, our kind and compassionate heavenly Father, in the solemn dispensations of His providence to remove from our midst by death, our dear and highly esteemed friend and brother, Elder James Knowles, and his wife, Matilda Knowles, of the Allen Street Presbyterian Church; andWhereas, It becomes us not only as brethren in Christ, but as a Session of said church, to express our hearty appreciation of their work in and worth to the cause of Christianity, which they so dearly loved; and while we bow in humble submission to the Divine will, nevertheless we strongly realize that, as co-workers together with them in the Master's vineyard, we have sustained a severe and irreparable loss by this sad bereavement;Therefore be itResolved, That as a Session now assembled, we do hereby tender our heartfelt sympathy and sorrow to the bereaved family in their great grief; and we do earnestly and sincerely commend them to God and the Word of His grace, that is able to keep them from falling, and to give them an abundant entrance into His everlasting kingdom; and be it furtherResolved, That the Clerk of Session be requested to enter these resolutions on the records of the church, and that a copy be immediately forwarded to the family of the deceased.(Signed),Duncan M. Young,Pastor.J. H. Allen, M.D.,J. M. Morrison,J. R. Batty,Martin Braitmayer,Elders.Jerome H. Owens,Clerk of Session.
New York, March 2, 1887.
Whereas, It has pleased Almighty God, our kind and compassionate heavenly Father, in the solemn dispensations of His providence to remove from our midst by death, our dear and highly esteemed friend and brother, Elder James Knowles, and his wife, Matilda Knowles, of the Allen Street Presbyterian Church; and
Whereas, It becomes us not only as brethren in Christ, but as a Session of said church, to express our hearty appreciation of their work in and worth to the cause of Christianity, which they so dearly loved; and while we bow in humble submission to the Divine will, nevertheless we strongly realize that, as co-workers together with them in the Master's vineyard, we have sustained a severe and irreparable loss by this sad bereavement;
Therefore be itResolved, That as a Session now assembled, we do hereby tender our heartfelt sympathy and sorrow to the bereaved family in their great grief; and we do earnestly and sincerely commend them to God and the Word of His grace, that is able to keep them from falling, and to give them an abundant entrance into His everlasting kingdom; and be it further
Resolved, That the Clerk of Session be requested to enter these resolutions on the records of the church, and that a copy be immediately forwarded to the family of the deceased.
MATILDA KNOWLES
MATILDA KNOWLES
MATILDA KNOWLES.
BEING THE RECORD OF A CONSECRATED MISSIONARYWOMAN'S WORK FOR OVER A QUARTER OF A CENTURYIN THE TENTH WARD OF NEW YORK CITY.
"She hath done what she could."
CHAPTER VII.
BRIEF MEMOIR OF MATILDA KNOWLES.
They walk with God whom none can shameFrom trusting in His holy name;Who looking for a glorious morn,Shrink not before the lip of scorn.
They walk with God whom none can shameFrom trusting in His holy name;Who looking for a glorious morn,Shrink not before the lip of scorn.
They walk with God whom none can shame
From trusting in His holy name;
Who looking for a glorious morn,
Shrink not before the lip of scorn.
The subject of this memoir was born in Tichon, near Ballymena, County Antrim, in the north of Ireland, March 22, 1811. Her ancestors fled from Scotland during the dark days of persecution, "when the minister's home was the mountain and flood." Little can be gleaned of her early history. Her mother died when she was six years old, leaving a sister older than herself, and a brother, a baby eight months old. Her father died shortly after her mother. When she was only eight years old, she went to the corner of the house, and asked the Lord to be a father and a mother to her. She was ultimately taken to her uncle's, at which place she resided until she came to America.
During her stay with him, she became acquainted with a young girl, who told her of the love of Jesus, and shortly before her death, she would frequently say how good God was to her, in bringing her in contact with her friend, who early told her of the life of the Saviour, and His never-dying love. At the same place, being filled with those desires, and having those Christian principles instilled into her heart, and not having conveniences to study and pray in the house, she would repair to the barn, to attend to her devotional duties, experiencing the truthfulness of God's Word, "They that seek me early shall find me." At this time she committed to memory the Psalms, and the Book of Proverbs, and several passages of the New Testament.
It seems that certain influences were brought to bear upon her, for the purpose of getting her settled in life, contrary to her own wishes; but the party so chosen was without Christian character, and although every inducement was offered, so far as wealth was concerned, she remembered the injunction of the Scriptures, "Be ye not unequally yoked to unbelievers," and like Moses, who refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, but chose rather to suffer affliction, penury, and loss with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season, she declined to enter into the proposed matrimonial connection. And then she decided to emigrate to the United States, friendless and alone.
In 1833—the time of the great cholera epidemic in this country—she was left by herself, in a house where all its occupants had fled through fear. Trusting in the God of Israel for protection, she experienced the full force of those sublime words of King David: "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noon-day." On arriving in New York, she immediately connected herself in church fellowship with the Canal Street Presbyterian Church, under the ministry of the Rev. Dr. McCarthy, and became a Sabbath-school teacher. Some of the first impressions made on her mind by her pastor were continually repeated, even up to the hour of her death.
In one address, delivered to young people, he begged them not to allow Satan to get even his little finger in, for he generally commenced with little sins, and by and by he would get his two fingers in, and then his whole hand, and twist you around as he chose, instead of allowing you to obey the commands of God.
Shortly after she landed in this country she was invited by an acquaintance to go to Brooklyn, to church. She consented, and attended the service; but, on her return, while stepping off the ferry-boat, she slipped, and fell into the river, and narrowly escaped drowning. She resolved, by God's grace, that she would never put her foot on a ferry-boat on the Sabbath again, while she lived, which vow she kept to the close of her life.
It was her usual custom on the street, if she heard any person using profane language, to reprove them, by saying, "Don't dare take the name of my Saviour in vain."
In the year 1839 she was married to Elder James Knowles, by the Rev. Dr. McLeod, of the First Reformed Presbyterian Church, Prince's Street. At this time she joined the above church, that she might be in full fellowship at the same communion-table with her husband.
In her earnest endeavors to faithfully serve her Lord and Master, she was sorely tried by a woman who lived in the same house with her. And herein do we see the goodness of God, in imparting grace to her to strenuously resist temptation. This woman did all in her power to lead her astray by offering her strong drink. She would visit her frequently after her husband had gone to his business, and bring the bottle and glass. She determined to change her place of residence, and before her husband returned home, she had engaged new apartments, and had her furniture all removed. Even after her removal, the woman followed her up, and became a tenant in the same house, and the same temptations were renewed. She once more got up and moved out of the house, never once yielding to the woman's persistent temptation.
In the summer of 1848 she met with a narrow escape in a burning building. In trying to extinguish the flames, she was badly burned from the points of her fingers up to her shoulders. In this house she succeeded in getting some people to attend church; and at this time, seeing some women ordained to go to India, she earnestly desired to be in their place.
In 1860, when in her fiftieth year, she removed to the Tenth Ward, the scene of her future labors. When her son William went to the war, she was recommended by Mrs. Warren to Rev. Mr. Finney, who engaged her as a Bible Reader and Visitor in the district.
In the spring of 1862, during the great fratricidal war, she started a sewing-school in Rivington Street, which eventually merged into the Harper and Fiske Industrial School in Ludlow Street, which met every Saturday. Gathering together from seventy-five to one hundred children, she taught them to sew, and endeavored to lead them to Him who said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven."
CHAPTER VIII.
THE VALUE OF PRAYER.
Oh, teach me, Lord, that I may teachThe precious things Thou dost impart;And wing my words, that they may reachThe hidden depths of many a heart.
Oh, teach me, Lord, that I may teachThe precious things Thou dost impart;And wing my words, that they may reachThe hidden depths of many a heart.
Oh, teach me, Lord, that I may teach
The precious things Thou dost impart;
And wing my words, that they may reach
The hidden depths of many a heart.
Mrs. Knowles's life, throughout, was characterized by great sincerity and steadfastness of purpose. As an evidence of it, I will give a sketch of her experience and work from her own pen, illustrating how the closing hours of her life were chiefly devoted to "Gathering Jewels" for Christ, as the secret of a truly beautiful life.
"In my field of labor I have met with much success and encouragement, though, indeed, there are more cases very trying and painful to witness, butall difficulties can be encountered, and many overcome, by prayer. I feel more and more the blessedness of the privilege I enjoy in being permitted to labor for Christ in the salvation of so many poor souls, and in being the means of aiding so many who are sick, cast down, and discouraged. How many there are who neglect the house of prayer from the contagion of bad example around them, and the want of a kind word of invitation, until the habit becomes fixed, and it needs urging to remind them of their duty?I often think of the words of Christ: 'Compel them to come in.' Yes, compulsion of the right kind is very needful, and a word of interest and encouragement such a help. One poor woman whom I visited a short time since, told me her lot was the hardest in the world—that she had seven children all out of Christ. I told her not to be disheartened; that if she could say God was her God, she could say he was the God of her seed, and that Jesus had said: 'Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, believing, ye shall receive.' She said: 'I have hoped so long, but now I am discouraged.' I told her the mother of St. Augustine said she had prayed for fourteen long years for her son, and her friend said to her: 'I tell you the subject of so many long and earnest prayers cannot be lost.' And that son, of whom she was then in search, and whom she met a short time afterward, was then under deep conviction, and soon afterward brought to Christ, and became an earnest and devoted minister; 'and you, my friend, need not be discouraged, for the same Spirit can work as powerfully on the hearts of your children as on his.' I prayed with her, and left her begging me to pray for her; calling on her a few days since, she met me with a cheerful countenance, and told me what I had said, together with reading the promise of an answer to prayer, had greatly encouraged her, and that her eldest son, who was the most unruly of all, had accompanied her to church on the last Sabbath, and she believed now the rest would be led to follow his example. I told her to doubt no longer, and with a word of cheer left her."
"In my field of labor I have met with much success and encouragement, though, indeed, there are more cases very trying and painful to witness, butall difficulties can be encountered, and many overcome, by prayer. I feel more and more the blessedness of the privilege I enjoy in being permitted to labor for Christ in the salvation of so many poor souls, and in being the means of aiding so many who are sick, cast down, and discouraged. How many there are who neglect the house of prayer from the contagion of bad example around them, and the want of a kind word of invitation, until the habit becomes fixed, and it needs urging to remind them of their duty?I often think of the words of Christ: 'Compel them to come in.' Yes, compulsion of the right kind is very needful, and a word of interest and encouragement such a help. One poor woman whom I visited a short time since, told me her lot was the hardest in the world—that she had seven children all out of Christ. I told her not to be disheartened; that if she could say God was her God, she could say he was the God of her seed, and that Jesus had said: 'Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, believing, ye shall receive.' She said: 'I have hoped so long, but now I am discouraged.' I told her the mother of St. Augustine said she had prayed for fourteen long years for her son, and her friend said to her: 'I tell you the subject of so many long and earnest prayers cannot be lost.' And that son, of whom she was then in search, and whom she met a short time afterward, was then under deep conviction, and soon afterward brought to Christ, and became an earnest and devoted minister; 'and you, my friend, need not be discouraged, for the same Spirit can work as powerfully on the hearts of your children as on his.' I prayed with her, and left her begging me to pray for her; calling on her a few days since, she met me with a cheerful countenance, and told me what I had said, together with reading the promise of an answer to prayer, had greatly encouraged her, and that her eldest son, who was the most unruly of all, had accompanied her to church on the last Sabbath, and she believed now the rest would be led to follow his example. I told her to doubt no longer, and with a word of cheer left her."
Here I will make a few comments on the above.
All difficulties can be encountered, and many overcome by prayer.—How true and weighty is this remark. Remembrance of this would guard and govern aright the actions of Christians, and deliver them from all unprofitable and injudicious murmurings. It suggests the only true antidote for the ills of life. A pleasant path to tranquillity of mind is prayer. Whether amid the crowded city or in the quiet hamlet, on land or on sea, at home or abroad, no matter where we are, God's ear is always open to the cry of His children. Prayer is the divinely appointed means to the attainment of peace. It lifts the soul above the cares and vicissitudes of life. Its effect is nearness to God. Earth's sighs are numerous. The tears flow thick and fast. Tears of affright. The enemy comes in like a flood, but the Lord lifts up a standard against them all; and the blest remembrance of the promise, "Cast thy burden by prayer on the Lord, and He will sustain thee," imparts fresh courage amid the conflict. The man who forgets to pray in the hour of trial is like one who has lost his way on a dark, stormy night; he is, indeed, a benighted traveller on a lonesome, dreary road. But let us thank God that—
From every stormy wind that blows,From every swelling tide of woes,There is a calm, a sure retreat;'Tis found beneath the Mercy Seat.
From every stormy wind that blows,From every swelling tide of woes,There is a calm, a sure retreat;'Tis found beneath the Mercy Seat.
From every stormy wind that blows,
From every swelling tide of woes,
There is a calm, a sure retreat;
'Tis found beneath the Mercy Seat.
I feel more and more the blessedness of the privilege I enjoy, in being permitted to labor for Christ in the salvation of so many poor souls.—When we labor with an eye to the glory of God, and the exaltation of the name of Jesus in the salvation of lost sinners, it always imparts perpetual pleasure. It was for the joy that was set before Jesus that He endured the Cross. Pure pleasure springs from the motive of doing good. This was the standard from which Christ labored. His compensation consisted in clarifying the natural and spiritual vision of those who sat in darkness and the shadow of death. This is the true explanation of His mysterious patience with those who frequently repelled His teachings and doings, when they were attributed to the power of the Prince of the Air. But the incarnate Son of God fainted not in His work, until He exclaimed, "It is finished." It is even so with all faithful missionaries. They feel it to be an unspeakable privilege to be co-workers with Christ; recognizing the fact that it is not their work but God's, and while they acknowledge their utter inability to save a single soul, yet, doubtless, their joy and satisfaction in all their work springs from the sacred consciousness that there is not only rejoicings and gladness of heart experienced on earth, but "joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth."
I often think of the words of Christ, Compel them to come in.—The scene is changed. From prayer in the closet, to kindly compulsion in the lanes and streets of the city. Here the reader will find the true secret of her beautiful life; namely, frequent reflection on the words of Christ, relative to Christian work in the world. "Go ye out into the highways and lanes," etc. This is the only method by which we can have communication with the souls of men and women who are perishing for lack of knowledge. The question has often been asked by the philanthropic men of the present day, How can we reach the masses? How can we save the non-churchgoers? It is calculated that with a population of almost a hundred thousand souls in the Tenth Ward alone, of New York, only about one-fourth attend any place of worship. These facts and figures are startling, but they are, nevertheless, true. These precious souls, for whom Christ died, must be made the object of our affection. Our knowledge of the spiritual destitution of the down-town masses is strictly based upon our experience and observation. And hence we say that a house to house visitation, systematically arranged, constitutes one of the essential characteristics of Christ-like work. He labored not only in the temple and the synagogue, but in the market-place, and on the streets. His pulpit was the stern-sheets of the ship, on the Sea of Galilee.
With a word of cheer left her.—Think of the power of a kind word. Amid all the busy scenes of life, is there no time for a cheerful word? When the Chief Priests and Pharisees sought to lay hands on Jesus, they feared the multitude because they took him for a prophet. What rays of celestial sunshine sometimes stream into the soul of the disheartened one when the missionary whispers, "Put all your trust in Jesus, and he will care for you." There is balm in Gilead, and there is a physician there. Look at the power of a kind word uttered by the Master. Are there no tumultuous fears allayed in the breast of those two blind men as they sit by the wayside to Jerusalem? They cry, "Have mercy on us, O Lord, thou Son of David." Is there not a stupendous wealth of kindness and potency portrayed in yon scene when Jesus stood still and called them, and uttered those strange kind words: "What will ye that I should do unto you?" How sad is the sight of a blind person! How intensely dark their surroundings! How they excite our pity! How many, alas! are blinded by sin, sickness, and sorrow. "They say unto him, Lord, that our eyes may be opened. Jesus had compassion on them and touched their eyes, and immediately their eyes received sight and they followed him." Is there any wonder that the whole city was moved, saying, "Who is this? This is Jesus, the prophet of Nazareth, of Galilee." Now the Saviour said, "As the Father hath sent me, even so send I you into the world." Kind Christian words contain the rich unction of encouragement and inspiration to the sorrowful, heavy-laden heart. So daughter, be of good cheer, thy sins, which are many, are all forgiven thee.
CHAPTER IX.
THE STORY OF WILLIAM THE CONSUMPTIVE.
Oh, fill me with Thy fulness, Lord,Until my very heart o'erflowIn kindling thought and glowing word,Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show.
Oh, fill me with Thy fulness, Lord,Until my very heart o'erflowIn kindling thought and glowing word,Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show.
Oh, fill me with Thy fulness, Lord,
Until my very heart o'erflow
In kindling thought and glowing word,
Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show.
Our Missing Link, a journal devoted to missionary work, has given many graphic recitals of the good work she accomplished in numerous fields, but none of much livelier interest than the case of
William at St. Luke's
"William" is a young Englishman. He came to this country eight years ago. He is now about twenty-four. I first saw him some time last winter. His sister, who lives with her family in our mission block, had told me that she had a brother in New York, who was out of health and out of employment, and was very unhappy in consequence.
I expressed my sympathy, but not knowing of anything that I could do, asked no questions at the time. A few days after she came to say that the brother referred to was in her room; that it had become evident that he was in consumption. He would like to talk with me. I was alone, and bade her invite him in. He came immediately. A tall, thin young man, with a pleasant face and easy manners. I did not speak to him very directly on religious subjects. I believe that I perceived in this first interview that his views were not very clear. I encouraged him gradually to tell me about his circumstances. His confidence was easily won, and in the course of this and subsequent interviews I learned that his only home was with an aged father, who was himself out of work and in straitened circumstances. William's clothing was too thin for the inclement weather we were then encountering, and it was plain he could not have the nourishing food his declining appetite required. The sister who first introduced him to me was anxious about him, but her tenement was too small to accommodate her own family, and her husband's wages hardly equal to the wants of his own household. William's great desire was to procure employment. He would work to the utmost of his failing strength if only he could get work to do. I obtained from the Sick Relief Fund a few shillings' worth of groceries per week for him; but employment, means to help himself, was his one aspiration. I felt sure he was not able to work, but was anxious, nevertheless, though in vain, to gratify his wish. One evening I communicated to him a slight hope of an opening to some employment. The increased brightness of his eye, the red spot on each cheek, and his sleeplessness that night, proved that he was not able to bear even the excitement of a sudden hope. Poor fellow! it was plain he would never work much more.
I must mention here that William's constitution had received the seeds of disease while at sea during the war. He ran away from home and engaged in the revenue service. He also served in the army. He has never been well since his return. His friends tell me that he has been wild, not that he was immoral, to use their own expression. He had been religiously trained in England, did nothing that the world would call bad; but he was wayward, and the occasion to them of great anxiety and displeasure also.
As I said before, we did not talk much at first about religion, not that he avoided the subject. He was very conscious of his own situation as far as the uncertainty of his life was concerned, but he had apparently no sense of sinfulness before God. Perhaps the reserve was on my side. I think I never felt so much as in this case the utter powerlessness of human influence to bring the soul to God. He spoke calmly of death; but when I asked him what was the ground of his hope beyond the grave, he replied:
"I have never done any one harm; I have tried to live right."
I replied earnestly: "Do not trust to any such refuge as that."
I then warned him against any hope not founded on Christ alone. He acknowledged that what I said was true, and seemed for a moment disturbed. I cannot recall another conversation in our earlier acquaintance, in which I was able to speak with any earnestness, or in which he seemed at all impressed. I could only pray: "Lord, open his eyes!" It is very wonderful to me, on looking back, to see how God was leading him all this time. Once he told me of a sermon which he had heard months before, upon the text: "Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die, and not live." He had never been so impressed by a sermon; he could not forget it.
Occasionally, I observed that his mind was well stored with the Prayer Book version of the Psalms. Sometimes he would quote a petition, telling me it had been specially upon his mind. Upon inquiry, I found that at home in England, he had been a chorister boy at church. He has since told me he used to sing the Psalms without any sense of their meaning. Probably the words were never explained to him, or impressed upon him in any way. It was a mere form of a church which confirmed its members at fifteen years old, with very little cognizance of their spiritual life. William, however, had not been confirmed. It would seem from his subsequent life that the words he had chanted, from Sunday to Sunday, had no effect on him, but now, in his last days, God was bringing them home to his heart, over all the years of his carelessness, and accomplishing that which he pleased. It has helped me to believe that it is not in vain to store the mind of thoughtless Sunday-school scholars with the Word of God, and that in the most formal Christian Church the words of Scripture are not lost.
But all this time William's temporal wants were increasingly pressing. His father had been obliged to sell their little stock of furniture, and the house was broken up. One night his sister told me that William had not so much as a place to sleep in. She took him in with her own children for a few days. I recommended that he should go into St. Luke's Hospital for a month. Perhaps the rest and nourishment he would find there would enable him to get through the trying spring weather, and in the summer he might be better. While this plan was under consideration, William found that he could stay in the room that his father had just quitted until the end of the month, which was half gone. Still clinging to the hope of finding employment, he gave up the hospital plan, while in his almost empty room was neither food nor fuel. His sister did what she could. I applied to the Sick Relief Society for some coal, which was immediately granted. All this time I had not applied to my Superintendent, whose kind and ready sympathy never fails me. The reason was, I have constantly on my heart and hands so many cases of suffering that I cannot represent them all, and am anxious to get through difficulties, as far as possible, without unusual assistance. But in this case God's plans were above my reach. One day Mrs. Knowles called at my room. While we were talking about some mission business, there was a knock. It was William. I had an instant sense that he had providentially called.
"Come in," I said, "and tell your story to my Superintendent." This interview was the beginning of better times for poor William. Mrs. Knowles immediately provided him with better clothing. I had only succeeded in getting some flannel from the Society. Her kindness did not stop here. In a few days she procured him a job of cutting wood.
A Difficulty.—William did his first day's work with all the energy his feeble strength would allow, but on being summoned to the same place again, an unfortunate circumstance occurred. I think it right to state the facts, because it shows how wonderfully God's grace can overrule. He commenced his work as before, but his strength giving out, he accepted an invitation from a lady in an adjoining house to come in and rest. His delicate appearance enlisted sympathy. She had had some conversation with him in his previous day's work, and was now prepared to express the kindest feelings, especially as she herself had lost a brother with consumption. Observing his exhausted state, she brought forward a glass of whiskey, which she made him swallow, strongly advising him to procure more and use it as a stimulant. The lady's intention was only kind, but, unfortunately, William acted indiscreetly upon the advice. Encouraged by the momentary relief afforded by the exhilarating beverage, he did procure more. Whether it was the same day or the next, I am not quite sure, but he went to his sister's at last, sadly under the influence of liquor. His weak state, the uncomfortable condition of his affairs, acting with the liquor upon his brain, caused him for a day or two to behave in a very inconsistent and unnatural manner. He seemed even to vary from his habitual truthfulness. Much disgusted, his sister rebuked him sharply, declared that she would tell me, and of course, the inference was that I should tell Mrs. Knowles. But that good woman knew about it as soon as I did. She was grieved and disappointed at what had occurred, but her uniform kindness did not fail. It was evident he was no longer able to make any exertion for himself, and she procured him admission into St. Luke's Hospital.
He went, in the midst of these trying circumstances, not coming to bid me good-by, and knowing that his sister was seriously displeased. Poor William! disgraced, unhappy, and sick, he went to that bed which was about to become to him as the gate of heaven. I went to see him as soon as possible. I went, intending to talk over with him what had passed, but found him so humble and so suffering that I had no heart to make any allusion to it. We neither of us spoke directly upon the subject. In fact, I said very little upon any subject, for as he lay there with the tears upon his thin face, expressing brokenly his pain and his penitence, I felt that God was teaching him, and taking hold of the very lesson to show him his true character. He was now coming upon a new ground never understood before.
The Blessed Change.—Mrs. Knowles saw William before I went to him a second time. She, too, forbore alluding to the unpleasant circumstances, but she talked to him of our human sinfulness before God, and our need of a Saviour. Some of his most interesting conversations have since been with her. The second time I visited William his bodily strength had greatly failed, but his face was beautiful with a new light I had never seen there before.
"I feel very differently now," he said, "God has forgiven all my sins."
He then went on to express his sense of his own unworthiness; not that he had led a vicious life, but he felt he was a great sinner before God. In the course of conversation I told him his sister had inquired kindly about him; his eyes filled with tears, and he said:
"Tell her I have been converted; I am very happy." The week before Easter, when the Bishop visited the hospital to administer confirmation, William was placed in a chair to receive the rite, and on Easter Day partook of his first communion. It was a glorious day for him. Mrs. Knowles visited him on that day.
A few days after, as I sat by his bedside, he was speaking, as he always did now, of his sense of sinfulness, and his sense of pardon, when I reminded him of the early conversation, before alluded to, in which he had rested on his own moral character for acceptance with God.
"Yes," he replied, "I used to think so, but I have been all wrong. Now I have no dependence but upon Jesus Christ."
A little before this, he had said to Mrs. Knowles: "I never knew that just trusting in Christ would give me such peace."
He has said repeatedly: "This sickness is the best thing that has ever happened to me. If it had not been for this, I should have gone on in worldliness."
William has never been accustomed to the common religious phraseology. He is such a babe in such things, that his expressions are sometimes strikingly artless. At one time I was speaking of his sufferings, he looked up with a smile, and hesitating how to express the thought in his mind, said:
"I think it is out of his affections God afflicts us."
His sister had wept much when I delivered his message. As I returned a kind reply from her, he said:
"Tell her I pray for her and her family every day." Then, when after a little conversation I had bidden him good-by, he called me back, and said:
"Be sure and tell my sister I pray for her." He frequently said to me:
"I pray for you everyday;" and on saying this to Mrs. Knowles, he added, at one time:
"I speak your name to God when I pray."
When he says this with so much earnestness, we always feel that his prayers are a rare treasure, since the helpless, self-renouncing prayers are most prevalent in Christ. The tenderness with which William speaks of his sister's family has sometimes touched me. There is nothing like the peace of God to beget good will to man. Knowing that the family had many trials with his sister's ill health and scanty means, he often sends by me messages of sympathy. A few days since it was suddenly discovered that their youngest child, two years old, and a little pet of William's, was in danger of being crippled for life. This new and unexpected sorrow filled the family with great distress. I accompanied the father when the child was brought to St. Luke's for examination. After the physician's opinion had been given, and arrangements made for placing it in the Children's Ward, we went to see William. The unexpected appearance of his brother-in-law, whom he had not seen since coming to the hospital, affected him much. Indeed, the interview was trying to both. I left them alone, and on my return shortly afterward, found William still in tears. He was not so well that morning, and grief for the child, and the sight of the brother reviving the painful memory of their late alienation, was too much for him; yet his peace was not greatly disturbed, for all alienation from man, as from God, had been healed for him.
The Tried Word.—I went to see the little child the next morning, and then reported him to his uncle, whose first words were a question, rather anxiously put, concerning the little one. Wishing to set his mind at ease, I said:
"Oh, it is all well with him. I just met him coming down, stairs with a flock of children, and his hands full of bread and butter."
He gave a smile of quiet amusement, which showed the playfulness of other days might yet be touched. I then went on to tell him the case was not likely to prove as serious as we had feared, and suggested he should get the nurse, when convenient, to bring the child in her arms to his bedside. He was pleased with the idea; but presently the conversation fell off from the subject. William's eyes wandered to the texts of the "Silent Comforter" at the foot of his bed. With the air of one who caught the sight of unutterable things, and has not much more to do with the world:
"See," said he, "I have a good verse for this morning." He began to read: "Fear not, I am with thee."
Beginning to cough, I went on: "When thou walkest through the waters, they shall not overflow thee; and through the fire, thou shalt not be burned. That is just right for you, William."
"Yes," he replied, with his own peculiarly beautiful smile.
"I notice," said I, "that the very words of God are best for you. You love the hymns, but, after all, God's own words are the safest to rest upon."
"Yes," he replied, "I live upon those texts. When the nurse comes in, in the morning, to turn the leaf over,I am eager."
I did not speak, but watched him as he lay, his longing eyes fixed upon the words before him, with an absorbed and admiring gaze, as if all else were forgotten. His soul was hanging its eternal destiny on the words of God. A few days before this he had said to Mrs. Knowles:
"You remember when we first talked of the Shepherd's Psalm, I said I should be glad when I could say: 'When I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil' Now," he added, emphatically, "I can say it.I fear no evil, for thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."
His listener then went on to speak of the beautiful figure of the rod and staff.
Sunshine and Shadow.—God leads his little ones gently, the Good Shepherd bears the lambs, that the enemy may not too much affright them through the dark valley.
"Is your peace never disturbed, William?" I asked one day.
"Not often," he answered. "Sometimes there comes a cloud—it is a temptation, I suppose."
"Yes," I said, "Satan, perhaps, envies you. He knows that he will never get your soul, but he will trouble you a little."
"I suppose so," he replied thoughtfully.
Wishing to express to me his happiness in God, and not knowing quite how to do so, he said:
"It is like this, sometimes—I feel like a boy let out from school; I am so happy, I want to shout." At another time he said:
"I have muchcommunion." Then, as if to illustrate this, he added:
"Last night, I awoke about two o'clock, and I was praying in my sleep."
"Can you recall your prayer?" I asked.
"No," he said, "but I was praying to God."
"God is very good, William, to let you talk with him so in the night."
"Yes," he answered; and then turning his face toward his pillow, he said, in a low voice: "Praise God!"
"And bless his holy name," I responded.
We were both silent for a few moments, and then—I think it was in connection with this conversation—I asked:
"William, if you were to get well now, do you think you would try to live to the glory of God?"
"Indeed, I would," he answered.
"And bring others to know him?" I asked.
"Yes," he said again.
"Well, William, I suppose you think that here upon this bed you cannot do much; but I think you can glorify him here on this very bed."
"Yes," he answered, a little doubtfully; then added: "I try to pray to him all the time."
I was half sorry for the suggestion, which seemed somewhat to bewilder him, and said: "That is all you can do, is it not?"
"And that is little enough," he replied sorrowfully.
I tried to make him understand that to receive much of God's grace was the surest way to serve him.
"What shall I render unto God for all his benefits? I will take the cup of salvation, and call on the name of the Lord."
When I saw William the next morning, he said, immediately:
"I did last night what you told me. I prayed for strength to glorify God here."
"I think," I answered, "that you will do that if you lie here and meekly suffer his will; and I must tell you that, after these conversations with you, I go home thanking God for what you have told me of His love to you. I think I love the Saviour better, since I have seen what he can be to one in sickness and death."
"That is good" he said emphatically, "I would have it so."
As I left him this time, the thought in my own mind was: "Oh, speak good of the Lord."
On my return to William and his brother-in-law, after the interview which I described in my last paragraph, and which occurred only a few days ago, I saw that he was too much agitated for conversation. I read him a hymn and said a few words. He was suffering more than usual that day, and his usually peaceful spirit seemed a little clouded. When I rose to go, it seemed that he would have detained me. We had bidden good-by, and turned away, when I looked back. I wanted to leave some word of Christ or thought of him at the last. "William," I said, bending over him, "Jesus says: 'Let not your heart be troubled—in my Father's house are many mansions.'"
He took hold of my hand, and looked up, the red lines of tears about his eyes. I could not quite understand their expression of unutterable longing, but I could feel at the moment that death must be penal, and its waters cold sometimes, even to a believer.
In these deeply anxious hours,O, if Jesus only smile!Only JesusCan these restless tears beguile.
In these deeply anxious hours,O, if Jesus only smile!Only JesusCan these restless tears beguile.
In these deeply anxious hours,
O, if Jesus only smile!
Only Jesus
Can these restless tears beguile.
CHAPTER X.
SOWING AND REAPING.
Sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness,Sowing in the noon-tide and the dewy eves;Waiting for the harvest, and the time of reaping,We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.
Sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness,Sowing in the noon-tide and the dewy eves;Waiting for the harvest, and the time of reaping,We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.
Sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness,
Sowing in the noon-tide and the dewy eves;
Waiting for the harvest, and the time of reaping,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.
The blessed Master says, in his Sermon on the Mount, "With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." If we attempt great things for God, and expect great things from God, He will bless us accordingly; for He cheers us by saying: "Ye shall reap, if ye faint not."
Mrs. Knowles tells us of instances where this truth has been verified. "One woman, whom I have been visiting for years, but apparently without any success, until a few months since, when she was taken sick, sent for me at that time, and said, 'she felt so sorry she had led such a wicked life,' and putting her arms round my neck, said, earnestly, 'Oh, pray for me, that the Lord will have mercy on me, and save my poor soul.' I did so, and when I rose from my knees, she held my hand in hers, and looking up for some time, she cried, 'Lord help me, and answer the prayers that have been offered for me;' and when I told her to cast herself wholly upon Jesus, that He was ready to save her, she said, 'Oh, but I have been such a sinner.' 'He is ready to save the chief of sinners, if they will only come.' She clasped her hands, crying, 'Oh, Jesus, save me, for I trust in thee.' I left her with a heart full of anxiety, but believing the Lord had begun the good work in her heart, and that in His own good time he would finish it, and I was not disappointed; for in a short time she was brought to rejoice in Christ as her Saviour, and although for weeks she passed through intense suffering, she never complained, but looking up, she would say to her family, and others who came to visit her, 'My Saviour helps me to bear all my trials;' and so he did, for I never saw a more patient sufferer, or a happier death.
"A lady whom I met there said to me, 'You have been sowing seed here a long time, and now you see what encouragement you have to labor.' The family are still out of Christ, but I earnestly hope to see or hear of them all brought to their mother's God.
"Another woman, who did not attend church at all, was like a little child, helpless and humble. Her situation became so critical, none were allowed to see her; but if she heard I was there, she always wanted me to pray with her; and often after offering a short prayer at her bedside, she would take my hand when about to leave her, and say, 'Oh, pray for me;' And when I kissed her, she would look up so earnestly, saying: 'I know you will pray for me.'
"It pleased the Lord to bless the means used for her recovery, and now, nearly well, she cannot express her gratitude to God for having preserved her. A few days since, when I told her of a poor woman who had returned from the hospital not much better, she gave me a dollar for her; indeed, her whole desire seems to be to do good, and bring up her children (she has a large family) in the right way. She said to me, 'When you came at first to see me, and spoke to me about being a sinner, I did not see how it was that I could be so, for I felt I was as good as you was.'
"These are cases that encourage us in our labors, for although our work at the time may seem fruitless, we may safely leave the seed in His hands, who maketh it grow and bud and blossom in His own good time.
"A woman whom I had not seen for some time, as she had moved away, told me a missionary had called to see her, and, talking to her as I had done, she asked if he knew me. He said, 'No, he was a stranger; but his words impressed her so much, that I still hope she may soon be brought to Christ; and thus it often is, if we sow in faith, 'one soweth and another reapeth.' In many instances a Bible that I have left, neglected at the time, has, through another's teaching, become precious; and some have shown meoneleft by other teachers, to which I have had the privilege of directing the attention of the otherwise careless owner."
She continues her deeply-interesting narrative thus:
"We have commenced our Saturday Sewing-school in a beautiful room, which has been secured for us, and hope to accomplish a great deal of good this winter through its means. My Sunday-school will be in connection with the Ludlow Street Mission, and I trust, as my health and strength seem renewed, I may be truly useful in working for the Master."
Here we have a vivid description of Christian waiting, in expectation of results. When we take into consideration that this woman was fifty years old when she commenced directly to work as a missionary, we know that she was fully equipped for the task, and entered upon it with all her energies of heart. St. Paul says, in his letter to the Church, at Rome, that "tribulation worketh patience." Now, there are many God-fearing ministers who cannot stand a rebuff. There are many good Christian people, and some of them excellent workers in the Sabbath-school, who could not stand to be looked upon coldly, much less to have the door slammed in their face. I am sure they would give the work up in despair, if, after they had attempted to reach some stranger several times, and had not succeeded. But, oh, here is a weak woman, for years visiting another of her own sex, year after year, remonstrating earnestly and patiently, and lovingly with her, in order to lead her to Christ. Is not this the way that God deals with us? Line upon line, precept upon precept; here a little, there a little.
Surely, he is the Lord God, "merciful and gracious, long-suffering, slow to anger, abundant in goodness and in truth."
What does Christ say in the Apocalypse? "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock; if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come unto him and will sup with him, and he with Me."
Does not the Holy Spirit work in this very same manner? Patiently!—oh, how patiently, He strives, He pleads, He warns. Was it not the Holy Spirit in this woman's heart, that, led her again and again to visit this home? Yes, most assuredly. Oh, that this self-same spirit would whisper to every reader of this memoir to go and do likewise!
See how beautifully Divine Providence harmonizes with the Spirit's work, and with those who faithfully toil in the vineyard. How unique the operation. Sickness is the efficient cause.
But we must constantly remember that it was the almost incomparable faith of this woman in the God of Jacob, amid the greatest difficulties and discouragements, that gave her such remarkable success. Incompetency for Christian work is a lack, not only of patience, but of faith in the great love of our God, and the triumphant death of Christ, and the persistent power of the Holy Spirit, combined with a humble trust in our own capabilities to do valiantly for Jesus. These are the allied forces in waging war against the powers of darkness in this wicked world. Christ said, "As the Father hath sent me, even so send I you into the world. And greater works than these shall ye do, because I go to my Father." Confidence in the word of our dear Incarnate Lord is the warrant, not only of the stability of God's method of saving souls, but in the progressive propagation of Christian principles. There is growth in work for Christ, as well as in nature. And our younger brethren would do well to remember that like this woman, we must expect success, or we will never get it.
Dr. McCosh, the President of Princeton College, made the following remarks in an address before the General Conference of the Evangelical Alliance:
"It is useless to tell the younger naturalists that there is no truth in the doctrine of development, for they know that there is truth which is not to be set aside by denunciation. Religious philosophers might be more profitably employed in showing them the religious aspects of the doctrine of development; and some would be grateful to any who would help them to keep their old faith in God and the Bible with their new faith in science."
Again, in his book on "Development," Dr. McCosh says:
"It is no use denying in our day the doctrine of evolution, in the name of religion or any good cause. It can now be shown that it rather favors religion by its furnishing proofs of design, and by the wonderful parallelism between Genesis and geology."
In this part of Mrs. Knowles' diary, the careful reader will observe a most dramatic account of human nature, under the controlling power of the Holy Ghost. The woman whom she had long visited was at last conquered. The city of the soul was successfully bombarded. The sorrow for sin, the sad lamentation over a misspent life, the flinging of her arms round the neck of the missionary, the urgent request, "Oh, pray for me, that the Lord may have mercy on me, and save my poor soul," together with the statement of transition from shadow to sunshine, from grief to joy, from alienation to adoption, reveal to us the judiciously connected operations of the deity, in the salvation of immortal souls brought about by the power of prayer.
Why should we remain incredulous about God's willingness to save sinners, after such a marvellous manifestation of Divine mercy?
Brought to rejoice in Christ as her Saviour.—The term "brought," is a very emphatic Scriptural one. It ascribes the glory, and honor, and power of man's deliverance to the free, sovereign, unmerited favor of God. David sings:
"I waited patiently for the Lord. And He inclined unto me, and heard my cry.
"Hebroughtme up also out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay:
"And He set my feet upon a rock, and stablished my goings.
"And He hath put a new song in my mouth, even praises unto our God; many shall seeit, and fear, and shall trust in the Lord."
A judicious acknowledgment of the sovereignty of God as the author of salvation is essential to Christian calmness and courage, and continuance in the path of duty. Man may break his promise, but God never. Man's objection to God's methods of salvation arise from a desire to take the glory to self, and the disposition to discontentment on the one hand, and a feeling of distrust on the other. Let us learn, from the foregoing account of the conversion of this woman, to isolate ourselves from man's ways of working, and accept God's communications regarding His approaches to the avenues of the heart; knowing that He will ultimately send the converting power of the Holy Spirit to the soul of the most hardened and obdurate sinner.
We must go back once more to Mrs. Knowles' narrative, and observe that among the principal causes of her success with the poor and fallen, was not only her intimate acquaintance with God's dealings with both saint and sinner, but her marvellous and confirmed habit of always offering a short prayer at the bedside of the sick and suffering and dying. There was, therefore, elicited the pungent request, "Oh, pray for me," corroborated by the impressive ejaculation of confidence in her fidelity to the divine command, "Call upon me in the day of trouble, I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me." How inexpressibly encouraging it must have been on this occasion to hear the remark, "I know you will pray for me," accompanied with the look of earnestness and helplessness, realizing that God alone could restore her to her accustomed health and strength.
Who can tell of the gratitude and gladness that sprang up in this woman's heart in answer to earnest prayer on her behalf, for her recovery which God was graciously pleased to bestow? The donation of the dollar to the other poor woman recently returned from the hospital, was conclusive evidence that she joyfully appreciated what great things God had done, not only for her soul, but for her frail body. Let us learn, dear reader, from the foregoing account of God's dealings with His dear departed saints that, in the first place, we must not be weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not, for, as Mrs. Knowles says, "Our work may seem at the time fruitless, yet we may safely leave the seed in His hands, who maketh it grow and bud and blossom in His own good time."
In the second place, we must remember that to be actively engaged working for God's glory is the best and surest, and, in fact, the only safe remedy for disappointment and discouragements in aggressive Christian work. "In many instances," she says, "a Bible that I have left, neglected at the time, has through another's teachings become precious." We can speak from heart-felt experience on this point, for some of the sweet psalms and hymns we sang, perhaps thoughtlessly, in the days of sunny childhood, are to-day the most soul-stirring, imparting fire, force, and fervency while working for Jesus. Here is one of them: