CHAPTER XXXII.
THE INTEMPERATE WIFE.
If you cannot cross the ocean, And the heathen lands explore, You can find the heathen nearer, You can help them at your door.
If you cannot give your thousands, You can give the widow's mite, And the least you give for Jesus Will be precious in His sight.
In March, 1880, she writes: "I have had much encouragement in my work during the past month. In a family where I had visited a long time, the mother was much addicted to intemperance. On calling one day, I saw the husband, who said he was glad I had come in, for he had resolved to leave his wife; he said he could endure his life with her no longer--he would go his way, and she must go hers. She was much distressed, and I once more entreated her to give up the intoxicating cup and be a good wife and mother. I then engaged in prayer, beseeching the Lord to enable her to resist this dreadful appetite. Her husband stood by and said:
"'Now, Mary, you have your choice: either to follow the advice of this kind friend, or to separate from me forever.'
"She then and there made her decision, and, laying her hand on the Bible, pledged herself not to touch or taste the poison, and signed a paper to that effect. Since then, she has attended our meetings, and says she is happier than she has ever been.
"Some persons to whom I have given the Bible did not seem to care to read it, but have now begun to do so, and encourage their children to read to them. One man tells me:
"'I am scarce five minutes in the house before my little girl begins to read to me, and it does me good.'
"A man and his wife who have attended church this winter, will soon confess Christ. They have suffered much this season, as the father has had but little work; but I have been able to give them some assistance. The mother said she was thankful to the Lord for all that had been done for them, to bring them through their difficulties--but, above all, that she and her husband had found rest in Jesus as their Saviour and their friend."
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WARMLY WELCOMED BY ALL DENOMINATIONS.
"_March, 1881._--During this month I have made many visits among Jews and Romanists. Some who formerly opposed me are now anxious to hear me read and pray, and urge me to come to see them often. Several Roman Catholic families have asked for the Bible; and I have given several copies of the New Testament, which they value very highly, as well for themselves as for their children, whom they are anxious should read and learn its sacred truths. One woman, whose children had been taught verses from the New Testament, gave me twenty-five cents to get her a Bible, saying she wondered why their clergy forbid them reading it.
"The woman mentioned before as being intemperate seems now truly reformed. She attends our meetings with her boy, and she and her husband once more live happily together.
"My meeting for young girls continues with much encouragement. They seem to take delight in reading the Scriptures, and in singing hymns of praise. They spend the hour in sewing and reading aloud, and they are greatly improved in deportment and character. The little Jewish girl, to whom I gave a Testament, is never absent from this meeting or from the Sunday-school."
What a deplorable sight--an intemperate mother! What a soul-ruinous example to a daughter! When we consider the relation between the mother and the child, how great are the maternal responsibilities. The mother ought to attract the attention of the child by her love. Chilled by the sin of intemperance, how many, alas! drag down their daughters to infamy and a life of shame.
But, oh, what a change is wrought in this household after the dramatic interview, when the husband threatens to leave his wife forever unless she abandons her cups. What joy enters that family circle after the mother's transformation. Surely this revolution in her character was not the work either of the missionary or the person herself. It is not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according _to His mercy_ He saves us.
How sweetly Dr. Horace Bonar sings in this connection:
Thy works, not mine, O Christ, Speak gladness to this heart; They tell me all is done; They bid my fear depart. To whom, save thee, Who can alone For sin atone, Lord, shall I flee?
When we contrast the previous picture with the closing paragraph of this last account in her diary, we behold the sudden change from sadness to sunshine.
She says, "_The young girls seem to take delight in reading the Scriptures, and in singing hymns of praise._" This is the new song put into the mouth of the Christian at the hour of conversion: "Happy day, when Jesus washed my sins away."