Elizabeth: the Disinherited Daughter Part 2

PART II.

THE GREAT WORK OF LIFE.

CHAPTER I.

ELIZABETH AS MISTRESS OF THE "COTTAGE CHAPEL."

One of the most natural consultations of the newly married couple is the plan of their first house. How chatty and cheery a pair of newly mated birds appear, in counsel over their nest-building! This schoolmaster and mistress are home from their toil and care for the day, and are again devoting an evening to the scheme of their first dwelling. It is not a large or magnificent concern, but it has already been neatly draughted, carefully considered, and builders' estimates footed up. All seems to be about right; but Elizabeth has gone off into a brown study. Her countenance betrays unusual agitation, and her pensive eye is filled with tears. Her husband supposes she is thinking of the mansion from which she has been spurned, as contrasted with the humble dwelling they are planning, but she hastens to correct the mistake and a.s.sure him that her musings were in the opposite direction entirely. "I was thinking of our dear people, and how much they need in this suburb of the town some place to hold meetings in.

And this thought struck my mind almost like an inspiration: Why not extend our plan up high enough for an 'upper room' for meetings?" This notion, carefully considered, not only in these consultations but in the prayers that closed them, impressed them both as a divine suggestion. The house was built accordingly. An outside staircase gave access to the upper story, which was all finished off in a rough, cheap manner for a chapel, and immediately and for a few years was occupied by the Methodist people of the south part of Middletown and of the farms adjoining, for prayer meetings, cla.s.s meetings, and occasional exhortation and preaching.

Among the church privileges which had cost this disinherited daughter so dearly few ever equaled in sweet enjoyment this cottage chapel arrangement.

She no longer had to steal away and s.n.a.t.c.h a few minutes once or twice a month to a.s.sociate with the advocates of free grace, as she once did, nor be shut entirely away from their beloved society, as for nearly a year, in that terrible season of persecution and despair. The church she loved came to her door. Her home echoed their prayers, songs, testimonies, and shouts.

She lived, toiled, ate, and slept under the shadow of the hallowed "upper room," so often, like the one in Jerusalem, "filled with the Holy Ghost."

She knew, as no one else could, how much such privileges had cost her, but still insisted that they never cost a t.i.the of what they were worth. Nor was the gratification of this ardent lover of Methodism the chief result of this chapel arrangement. There the Church found asylum from persecution; and if we may estimate the value of such a refuge from the alarm of the enemy it must have proved a precious boon. Often were the pious band obliged to come early and lock themselves in to escape the fury of the mob, which would curse and mock without. But sometimes, unable to reach them or seriously to annoy them by their howlings, they would vent their spite upon the premises. Now it would be by breaking windows. Again, finding the windows guarded with thick board blinds, they would tear down fences, fill the well with wood, etc. In several instances it came out in one way and another that some attendant of the "standing order" furnished the rum that stimulated the rabble to make these attempts to drive off these "deceivers of the last days, that should deceive the very elect." But "the more they afflicted them the more they multiplied and grew;" so that in a few years the place became "too strait for them." Even members of the mob of one meeting would be "awakened" while listening for something to mock, and scarcely able to restrain themselves, while with their comrades they would come early to the next meeting, get fastened in with the pious and the penitent, and, making humble confession, seek and find salvation, and become lively members of the church they had persecuted.

Who can estimate the amount of good done in that "upper room" at the dawn of the nineteenth century? "When G.o.d writeth up his people" of how many will it be counted, "This man was born there?" Who can stand on the hill where once stood that unpretending home with a "meeting house" on the top of it, and look over to University Hill, crowned with those Methodist halls of science and art, and see no connection between the humble seed-sowing and the waving harvest?

Soon after the supersedure of this chapel loft Mrs. Elizabeth began to reckon her work nearly done in Middletown; and, a good offer being about that time made for their valuable situation, she began to hope and pray for the accomplishment of a cherished longing to live near the place of her spiritual birth.

Mr. Arnold had followed two lines of business from his majority: Teaching through the long winters of New England, and coast trading summers. He was brought up a farmer, but fancied that he had but little genius for that vocation. After his marriage and settlement he shortened up his summer sailing, giving himself time during spring and autumn to cultivate, or at least plant and reap, his rich little place.

With the growing cares of the family the wife and mother was desirous to "get him away from the water" and settle down upon a farm. As they pondered the question, and committed it in prayer to Him whom they trusted to "set the bounds of their habitations," they seemed to hear in gentle whispers, "Ye have compa.s.sed this mountain long enough;" "Arise, for this is not your rest."

So they concluded to sell out their first home, bid adieu to the beloved church at Middletown, and try to find a home somewhere near Pittsfield, Ma.s.s.

CHAPTER II.

RELIGIOUS PRIVILEGES AND ENJOYMENTS.

The religious ecstasies experienced by Elizabeth in Pittsfield during her young convert days had impressed her very deeply, and left a pleasant notion of a paradise upon earth. It was a sort of dreamy vision of the glory of Zion at her best. It had come to her many times in the intervening years with marked force. It was not the picture of wealth, or ease, or luxury, or any worldly good; but the notion of a settlement near the place where she first found pardon and peace to her soul, and where she could enter again most heartily into those rich fellowships and rapturous enjoyments which she then found, heightened and intensified by a deeper and broader experience, maturing now for near a decade.

But Providence seems to have had other and higher designs, and evidently guided her course to the indulgence of these blissful fancies. In a short time they had purchased and settled upon a rich farm, of moderate size, upon the Housatonic River, in Lenox, near Pittsfield, Ma.s.s.

Precious, indeed, were now her privileges. The word was ably preached and was a feast to her soul. Her church a.s.sociates were all that she had desired, and much more numerous than she had expected, and they were living all around her. She was also near her beloved relatives, and that sacred place where she first found the Saviour, precious to her soul.

"There is a spot to me more dear than native vale or mountain; A spot for which affection's tear flows freely from its fountain.

'Tis not where kindred souls abound, though that on earth is heaven, But where I first my Saviour found, and knew my sins forgiven."

She was greatly blessed in all these privileges. It seemed, indeed, "a heaven to go to heaven in." But still she found emotions of loneliness, at times, which she could not explain--an indefinite fear lest she become so filled and satisfied with these religious luxuries as to lose sight of stern diligence in the Master's work.

CHAPTER III.

ELIZABETH AS AN EVANGELISTIC LABORER.

Rejoicing greatly with "the ninety and nine," the pious zeal of Elizabeth wept over "the lost sheep in the wilderness," and she longed to go out among the mountains as a personal coworker with the chief Shepherd and bring them to the fold. In fact, her ideal of the dest.i.tute regions she had dreamed of was substantially answered by territory near her home, and providentially brought to her notice.

On "Washington Mountain" were several neighborhoods of irreligious settlers at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Our itinerant ministers had occasionally pa.s.sed; over the foothills and given off a message or two among these neglected inhabitants, but in the main they were dest.i.tute of Gospel truth and the means of grace. Elizabeth had not been more than a year or two in the adjoining valley before she more clearly saw that evangelical labor, as well as religious privileges, had providentially called the family to their present location.

True, she was a woman, and the Master had chosen "men to preach," and "women to guide the house," and win souls in a quiet manner. But she could attend faithfully to household affairs, and also do something as a private member to lead sinners to Jesus, even though miles away on the dark mountain; for she was an expert rider, very spry and strong, and only thirty years of age, and had a fleet, easy horse that could climb those slopes and fly across those table-lands and be back home in a few hours.

So, in the name and fear of the Lord, this cultured woman began among the rough settlers of Washington Mountain as a religious visitor from, house to house. At first her visits were between 1 P.M. and sunset; but as the people became awakened, and gathered in groups, requiring more exhortation and wrestling prayer, she spent more time with them, frequently mounting her boy behind her for company, and always reaching home before she slept.

Local preachers and exhorters followed up the work. The circuit preachers, by an occasional visit, gathered the lambs into folds, and thus the fields were cultivated, while this pioneer woman searched out other dest.i.tute groups and introduced them to Gospel privileges and blessings.

In this rapid riding and visiting, as a true shepherdess, hunting up the lost, she cautiously occupied mostly fair afternoons, and on an average, in moderate weather, only one or two afternoons a week. But in a few years even that amount of time, well employed, produced glorious results. Her work in this line was somewhat like that of a modern "Bible reader," only that it was much more rapid. What would her father have thought, when teaching his proud daughter horsemanship, if he had been told what use she would make of it?

What a contrast between the riding done by this woman now, and a dozen years ago in the same county! In skill, and speed of movement, and grace of att.i.tude she is much the same; but how different her dress, her countenance, her aims and hopes! Her father then was proud of his darling; now, how mortified and angry would he be could he see her spring to her saddle and start off toward Washington Mountain, in search of souls! "G.o.d seeth not as man seeth." Then he beheld the "proud afar off," but now "giveth grace to the humble," and crowneth her labors with divine approval and success, while he giveth to her heart the "peace that pa.s.seth understanding," and the sweet promise that "they that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars forever and ever!"

What Mrs. Elizabeth did to save souls on the mountain was only in the line of extraordinary labors, and was not made an excuse for neglecting any of her ordinary church duties. As before observed, her visits being mainly in fair weather, and only once or twice a week, except in times of revival, she counted them as many people do one or two weekly recreations, not allowed to interfere with anything else.

Indeed, they did not satisfy her own zeal for extraordinary work. She scattered some of the young people of the mountain among the Methodist families of Lenox and Pittsfield as domestic help, greatly to their advantage. She invited her church a.s.sociates to her house for extra prayer meetings, for the special benefit of serious persons from the mountain and other neglected neighborhoods nearer her home, thus bringing them under strong religious influences. Of course all the young laborers from the mountain, working for families not too far off, would want to attend such meetings and see their kindred, and their employers would encourage them and lead them to faithful cross-bearing on such occasions.

She even set up a private school for neglected children, and her church cla.s.smates put some of their own children into it "to help leaven it," as she suggested, and it became, in answer to their united prayers, a revival school. One family[1] who thus a.s.sisted her had two little boys converted in her school, right among the ragged, ignorant children, and they grew so strong in the work of these daily prayer meetings that one of them[2]

became an able itinerant minister, and the other,[3] in the wilderness to which both families subsequently moved, became a cla.s.s leader, having for several years some of these same schoolmates (then, like himself, in midlife) in his cla.s.s, and even Mr. and Mrs. Arnold themselves and several of their children! So glorious are often the compensations of true zeal, even in "the life that now is."

[Footnote 1: That of Thomas Hubbard.]

[Footnote 2: Rev. Elijah B. Hubbard.]

[Footnote 3: Jabez Hubbard.]

CHAPTER IV.

REMOVAL TO A WILDERNESS COUNTRY.

How mysterious are the leadings of Providence! The most inviting scenes, the happiest state of society, the richest farm lands, the best educational facilities, sometimes fail to content even good people who live not to get rich, but to fulfill their mission in the service of their "generation by the will of G.o.d."

The young man marked by the Redeemer for a Gospel herald is not the only sort of Christian who feels uneasy in the crowded nursery, and groans to be torn out and transplanted on some bleak hillside where, shaken by fierce winds, his roots may strike deep, his branches spread wide, and he bear much fruit.