From Death into Life Part 24

"No."

"Do you believe that He has done that?'

"Yes, I do."

"You do believe that He has died for you-for you?" I inquired, laying the emphasis on you--"for you, as if you were the only person for whom He died?"

"Yes; I believe He died for me."

"Do you thank Him for it?"

"No, I do not; I do not feel anything."

"That may be; but do you not think you ought to thank Him for what He did for you?" He did not reply.

"How can you feel anything till you have it? Or how can He give you any feelings till you thank Him for what He has already done for you? Make some acknowledgment."

"Thank you," he replied; and without another word he rose from his knees and went away. The bell was rung, the people a.s.sembled, and we had the service; but he did not remain.

Again he disappeared for the whole day, until the evening, when he came into the vestry, and said, "Will you let me read prayers this evening?"

To this the vicar gladly a.s.sented; so he put on the surplice for the first time after several months, and went into church with us.

The fact of his reading prayers again, and more especially the manner in which he did it, attracted attention. The earnest tone and meaning he threw into the words of the prayers, and more particularly into the psalm, penetrated much deeper. One lady knelt down and began to pray for herself in the pew; others were riveted as by the power of the Spirit.

All through the sermon, I felt that the Lord was working among the people, and at the close they were loth to go. Many more remained in the after-meeting than we could speak to; manifest was the power of the Spirit, and much good was done.

There was great joy in the little village that night, and for several days following the Lord wrought among the people. Many lasting mementos remain of this week's ministry, and of the weeks which followed.

Our reticent friend was changed indeed, and immediately gave up the tandem and the pipes. I do not think he has ever smoked since; he has had something better to do.

Smoking is an idle custom, and too often enslaves its votaries; and even if it does not become a dominant habit, it certainly teaches no lesson of self-denial. A Christian man needs not to seek relief in any such way. It is said to be very soothing when a man is in any trouble or anxiety; if so, in this respect it may be said to be next door to the beer-barrel, or to the use of spirits. If one man may soothe his feelings with this narcotic, another may stimulate them, when he is low and cheerless, with alcohol. The Apostle James says, "Is any merry, let him sing psalms." He does not say, Is any afflicted or low, let him smoke and drink! No; "let him pray," and depend upon G.o.d. Many a lesson which might be learned from G.o.d on our knees, is let slip altogether because we think there is no ham in relieving ourselves by self-indulgence. The flesh is a monster which is never appeased, much less subdued, by gratification.

Our friend put away the smoking, and sold his pipes of various kinds, which must have cost a considerable sum, for he realized eighty pounds by them. With this amount, and some addition, he was able to put stained gla.s.s windows into the already beautiful church in which he received his blessing. This suitable thank-offering was a lasting memorial of his grat.i.tude, besides being an example to others, not only to give their hearts to G.o.d, but also to give up their besetments, whatever they might be, and in doing so be free for G.o.d's service.

This young man soon after was removed to a more arduous sphere, and carried great blessing thither; as he did also when he went from thence to a yet more influential and important place. Though now laid aside by ill health, he sends tracts and writes letters to many, and so continues to be, in the hand of the Lord, the means of winning souls; and in addition to this, sets an example of a holy and G.o.dly life.

Another little incident I must notice here. While I was still working in this place, I received a letter from home, telling me that they were all well, and very happy in the country, but that they wanted me back again, and thought I had been away quite long enough. Besides this, it was time to be getting summer things, for which they would want at least ten pounds. I had no money to send; and though I might have asked many kind friends, I felt a difficulty about it. I do not think it was pride. I had put myself and all my affairs into G.o.d's hands; and though I was not ashamed to tell our circ.u.mstances to any one who asked me, I made it a rule not to mention my troubles or wants to any but the Lord. I read the cheerful parts of my letter at breakfast, and kept the other till I went upstairs. There I spread the letter on the bed at which I knelt, and read to the Lord the part that troubled me. I was praying about it, when there came a knock at the door, and before I had time to say "Come in,"

my friend F--- entered. Seeing me on my knees, he apologized for intruding, and in his shy way put a ten-pound note into my hand, saying, "I am ashamed it is not more; but will you accept that?" With this, he made for the door; but I detained him, in order to show him the part of my letter I had not read in the morning. I said, "I was just reading it to the Lord; and look, while I was still on my knees, He has sent you with the answer. It is the exact sum I want, so do not apologize for it.

I thank G.o.d and thank you. I will send this off at once."

CHAPTER 29

Tregoney, 1855.

It was time now to be returning southward and homeward; which I did by several stages, stopping to preach in various places on the way. At length I reached the village in Cornwall, where my family were lodging in the farmhouse I have already mentioned.

Here, the two clergymen were rather afraid of me, and avoided asking me to preach in the church. They had both been converted (or, at least, so they said) more than a year; but instead of working for G.o.d, they were bent on Romanizing. One of them said that there was no salvation in the Church of England; and the other showed me a sealed letter he had in his desk, which, he said, he "dared not open." It was from a brother of his, who went to Rome, and contained his reasons for so doing. "Ah," he said, "if I open that letter, I feel sure that I shall have to go too." This fascinating dread was upon him till he really did go, six months afterwards. I tried to deter these men from the erroneous step they were contemplating, by getting them into active work for the Lord. Sometimes I preached in this church, but more often in the open air. I am sorry to say my friends were but half-hearted in their cooperation, so that after a few weeks I left, and went to the west.

On my way thither, a clergyman, who happened to be inside the coach, gave me his card, and then came outside for the purpose of talking with me. He asked me if I would take charge of his church and parish for six weeks. I said I would, but could not go for a week or two. We agreed as to time, and on the promised Sat.u.r.day I arrived at the place.

I walked there from a neighbouring town, having several calls to make on the way, and left my luggage to follow by the van. In the evening, about eight o'clock, I went down to meet this conveyance, and tell the man where to deliver my bag. I found a crowd of people in front of the inn where the van stopped, and heard the driver say, in reply to some question, "I've not got him, but I've got his bag."

"Where is he?" said a voice. "I don't know," one said, "but I saw a queer little chap go into Mrs. M--'s house."

"That's the place," said the driver; "that's where I'm a-going to take his bag. Come on, and let's see if he'll have it."

I went in and out among the crowd, as it was dark, asking questions, and found out that they "would like to duck the fellow if they could catch him;" they "did not want any such Revivalist chap as that amongst them,"

and so forth. They were greatly excited, and wondered which road he was likely to come, for they would go to meet him. Some one asked, "what is he like ?" One answered, "Oh, he is a rum-looking little fellow that stoops. I should know him again anywhere." Hearing this, I held up my head like a soldier, in order to look as large as possible, and waited about till they dispersed.

Then I joined a young man, and, talking with him, ascertained what it was all about. I pa.s.sed the house where I was to lodge, for I saw that the people were watching the door. I came back among them, and, pointing to the door, said, "Is that where he stops?"

"Yes," one replied, "he is there. The man brought his bag and left it; he is there, sure enough."

I said, "Let us go in and see him; come along--come!"

So saying, I made for the door and knocked, beckoning to the others to follow me; but they would not do so. As soon as the door was opened I went in, and the landlady speedily closed it after me, saying, "I am glad you are come. How did you manage to get here? I have sent word to the constable to look out for you, and he is still watching somewhere."

"Why," I asked, "what is it all about? What is the matter?"

"Why, some of the lads here say, that if they could catch you, they would give you a good ducking in the pond."

"Indeed!" I said. "Then I don't think I will give them that pleasure tonight." So, sitting down by the fire, I made myself comfortable, and after supper went to bed.

In the morning, while at breakfast, I saw a number of men playing in the open s.p.a.ce in front of the house. Some were tossing pence, some playing at ball and other games, while many were standing about smoking, with their hands in their pockets.

"There, that's the way they spend their Sundays in this place," said the landlady.

After watching them from the window for a little time, I put on my hat and went out, and told them "it was time to go home and get ready for church; that would be far better," I said, "than playing like this on Sunday. It is a disgrace to men like you--married men, too, with families! It would be bad enough if you were a parcel of boys. I am quite ashamed of you!"

They slunk away one by one, and I walked down the street to look about me, and to see the school-room where there was no school; but I intended to have a prayer-meeting there in the evening, after the service. I put up a notice to this effect, and then came back to my lodgings, till it was near church-time, when I set out, arrayed in my gown and bands, for the sacred edifice.

On the way there I observed stones flying past me in every direction; but I walked on, till at last I was struck on the cheek with a patch of muddy clay which was thrown at me. There was a universal shout of laughter when the men and boys saw that I had been hit. I put my hand to the place, and found that the pat of clay was sticking to my cheek, so I pressed it there, hoping, by the help of my whiskers, that it would remain. I said to the crowd, who were laughing at me, "That was not a bad shot. Now, if you come to church you shall see it there; I will keep it on as long as I can." So saying, I walked on amidst the jeers of the people.

When I arrived at the vestry, the clerk was in great trouble when he knew what had happened. He said, "Do let me wash the mud off, sir."

"Oh, no," I replied, "I mean to show that all day, if I can."

During the morning service, at which there were about fifty present, I succeeded in keeping on my mud-patch, and returned to dinner with the same.

In the afternoon I said that I would have a service for children, as there was no Sunday school, to which about twenty came. Before addressing them, seeing that they were intently looking at the patch on my cheek, I told them how it came there, and that I intended to keep it on all through the evening service.

This news spread all over the whole place, and the consequence was that such numbers of people came out of curiosity, that the church was filled to over-flowing. I preached without any reference to what had taken place, and succeeded in gaining the attention of the people; so that after the service I said I would have a prayer-meeting in the schoolroom. We had the place crammed, and not a few found peace. I announced that I would preach again the next evening.

A revival soon broke out in that place, and the crowds who came to the meetings were so great, that we had as many people outside the large school-room as there were in.

At the end of the six weeks the new vicar returned, and I was able to hand over the parish to him, with a full church, three Bible-cla.s.ses, and a large Sunday-school. This I did, thanking G.o.d for the measure of success and blessing He had given to my efforts in that populous and wicked place.