CHAPTER XI.

DAILY MISSIONARY WORK.

Shall He come and find me faithful To His parting words to me; "If I go--a place preparing-- I will quickly come to thee."

Shall He come and find me working In the vineyard full of love; Only working, till the glory Breaks upon me from above?

The following part of her narrative of Christian work, taken from _Our Missing Link_, is deeply interesting, and deserves the reader's careful perusal.

At one time Mrs. Knowles wrote that, during part of the summer months great weakness and general debility prevented her from laboring as much as usual; and when she resumed her visits, she found many had been making inquiries after her in church, not knowing her place of residence. One young woman especially, who had made an unfortunate marriage, and who had been badly treated by her husband, was extremely anxious to see her, to tell her what comfort she had derived from a Bible given her by Mrs. Knowles. She said she had never read so much in one before. She had been brought up a Roman Catholic, but having lived a few months in a Protestant family, she had there seen a Bible, and occasionally read in it. That upon leaving the family the lady presented her with one, which she was obliged to hide away in her bed, lest her mother should know she possessed it. It afterward disappeared and she thought one of her family must have seen her reading in it, and since then she had never been able to procure another. "When I gave her this one, her husband had spent all her wages, and she had not the means of paying for it; but now she paid me for it, and hoped I would come again soon and talk with her about it.

"I am kindly received wherever I go in my new district. There has been much sickness, especially among the children, and much care is needed. One man I visited presented a pitiable condition. When I entered his room he was far gone in consumption. A little girl was raising his head to give him drink, as the mother had gone to her work. He looked surprised to see a stranger enter his room, but I went forward and asked him if he was looking unto Jesus. He said, like many while in health, he had thought too little about those things. I read and prayed with him. Upon leaving him he shook my hand and asked me to come again, saying the Lord must have sent me. I returned soon with some nourishment, which was greedily partaken of--'It tasted so good.' He lived but little more than a week, and I visited him daily, reading and praying with him. I carried with me the little book _Come to Jesus_, which he loved to hear, as, 'It was so full of Jesus;' but he said he had neglected the Saviour, and how could he hope He would have mercy on him now. I told him how Christ died praying for his enemies, and that the thief on the cross looked to him and was saved, and repeated to him the hymn 'Just as I am,' etc. This seemed to encourage him, and he said he wanted to trust in the mercy of God through Christ to save him; while all who came to see him, he would urge not to delay, as he had done, coming to Jesus. He said I was the first to speak to him about the salvation of his soul, and expressed great gratitude to me, and great solicitude about his wife and children, till I told him he could surely trust One, who had done so much for him, to care for them. He finally became too weak to speak, but toward the last I saw him clasp his hands together, while he repeated, 'O blessed Jesus, save me.'

"The woman whom I mentioned in a former report as so solicitous about her children being all out of Christ, tells me she is much encouraged, as her eldest son now attends church with her, and is so changed and so much concerned about the other members of the family, she has great reason to hope for great things for all the rest.

"If those dear ladies who furnish us with means could only see for themselves how grateful these poor creatures are for any small kindness done them, or for a word spoken in kindness, how greatly encouraged they would be. And how great is the responsibility of the Bible woman, as she goes from house to house, and from one apartment to another, listening to the many tales of distress which greets her ears, and witnesses for herself the many objects of pity and destitution which meet her gaze, while she knows that something is expected from her to alleviate, in some measure, the sorrow of these poor sufferers; and then, when these people look up to her for counsel and advice, she is often at a loss to know what to say to them. I often entreat them to go to Jesus, and kneel and pray with them that the Lord may direct them what to do.

"I have brought a number of persons to church, and trust, through blessing, prayer, and continued efforts, much more may be accomplished in the future."

It is only by an experimental knowledge of the condition of the citizens of New York and other large centres of population, who are huddled together in the high tenement houses, that we are able to form a correct understanding of the peculiar circumstances that surround the daily life of the faithful city missionary, especially when they are not thoroughly acclimated. A native-born American does not feel the stifling heat of the summer sun like those who are born in a more northerly European country. But even the Americans themselves suffer severely from the heat. Hence, many of them close their churches and Sabbath-schools, and resort to their summer retreats by the seashore, at Ocean Grove or Long Branch, while others seek rest and refreshment to their jaded spirits at Saratoga, or snuff the balmy breezes at Mount McGregor, where General Grant breathed his last, and ended his creditable career in the cause of his country.

At this time we find that she suffered much during the summer months of 1867. Great weakness and general debility hindered her from laboring incessantly, as was her usual custom for her dear Saviour. Sickness seems to have been the only limitation to her labors. When I think that I am writing not about some imaginary character, but one with an untainted reputation, a _beau ideal_ as a Christian worker, known perhaps to a few outside of the circle in which she lived and labored, encouraged not by applauding throngs, but attracted and held to her toil, year after year, by sorrowful hearts and weeping eyes, and helpless hands that hang down the widow and the fatherless--these were the objects of her Christ-like and heart-felt compassion.

Chalmers observes, in a sermon preached at an Anniversary Missionary meeting, held in the High Church in Edinburgh: "What the man of liberal philosophy is in sentiment, the missionary is in practice. He sees in every man a partaker of his own nature, and a brother of his own species. He contemplates the human mind in the generality of its great elements. He enters upon the wide field of benevolence, and disdains those geographical barriers by which little men would shut out one-half of the species from the kind offices of the other. His business is with man, and let his localities be what they may, enough for his large and noble heart that he is bone of the same bone. To get at him he will shun no danger, he will shrink from no privation, he will spare himself no fatigue, he will brave every element of heaven, he will hazard the extremities of every clime, he will cross seas, and work his persevering way through the briars and thickets of the wilderness. In perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by the heathen, in weariness and painfulness, he seeks after him. The cast and the color are nothing to the comprehensive eye of the missionary. His is the broad principle of good-will to the children of men. His doings are with the species, and, overlooking all the accidents of climate or of country, enough for him if the individual he is in quest of be a man--a brother of the same nature--with a body which a few years will bring to the grave, and a spirit that returns to the God who gave it. The missionary is a man of large and liberal principles."

These characteristics, enumerated by the warm and large, and generous-hearted Chalmers, dwelt richly in her whose biography we have tremblingly attempted to portray. She knew little of the soothing influences of nature and solitude. Her life's work was spent in this city, so cosmopolitan, composed, almost, of every creed and color under heaven.

After restoration to health, the great purpose of her life was joyously resumed. And at this time we have an opportunity of knowing thoroughly, and weighing precisely, the opinions of her parishioners regarding her, for when she began to resume her labors she found that the dear ones she had brought to Jesus were kindly inquiring about her. Surely, it is good to be missed, when either laid aside by sickness or called away by death.

How precious are the promises of God's Word, amid domestic difficulties and trials. The relations of the home circle are such that, unless there is the utmost harmony and good-will, one toward another, everything seems to go wrong. Hence, the importance of the injunction of the Apostle, "Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers." Her own domestic happiness was constantly preserved. They told me on the steamer, during a summer excursion, "that during the forty-seven years of their wedded life, they never needed to be reconciled." And the secret of their joy at home, even when they commenced housekeeping, was that they erected the family altar, and established a church in the house. Conceive, then, her feelings of gratitude to God, when she learned that the young Roman Catholic wife, unfortunate in her marriage, who was badly treated by her husband, was greatly comforted through the prayerful perusal of the Bible. Her deep feelings of moral sensibility enabled her to truly sympathize with her own sex in their home troubles.

Her intense love for the children was a magnificent trait in her character. Why? Because she felt the significance that attaches itself to the sayings of Christ, bearing on the children. His authority must be recognized. He said: "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." There is a beautiful passage in Isaiah, that illustrates how tenderly God cares for the little ones:

"He shall feed his flock like a shepherd; He shall gather the lambs in His bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young."

"Whoso," said Jesus, "shall receive one such little child in my name, receiveth me."

There are too many instances in our daily experience where the children are sadly neglected, and where they are looked upon as little heathens, and discouraged in their endeavors to follow Jesus in early life. It should be the constant care of parents and Sunday-school teachers to take the children to Him who will in no wise cast them out. Who can look into the clear, bright, blue eyes of a little boy or girl, and not see in their countenance a holy radiance expressive of trustfulness, innocence, and affection? It is no wonder, then, that Jesus said: "Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye can in nowise enter into the kingdom of heaven."

"Are you looking unto Jesus?" she said. Where can we look for a more important searching question to shadow forth the indispensable necessity of not only this consumptive man, but all men, whether in health or sickness, to renounce all other methods of trying to get to heaven, but by "looking unto Jesus." No change of character can take place in any other way. "Look unto me and be ye saved, all ye ends of the earth, for I am God, and beside me there is none else." They looked unto Him and were lightened. "O! it is easy to look to the hills from whence cometh our help," when the Holy Spirit is working upon the heart. But ah, it is a tremendously difficult task to perform when the poor sinner is bereft of this divine power.