From Death into Life Part 9

I confess I was much disappointed at his abrupt departure from the house, but I remained a little longer, till the worst of the storm was over.

After the lapse of nearly a quarter of an hour, Billy crept back to the door, and lifting the latch quietly, whispered to his wife, "Is the pa.s.son gone?"

"No, Billy," I said, "here I am. Come in out of the wet. I am so glad you have come back."

"What d'yer want with me?" he inquired. "I want to talk to you about your soul. I have been thinking much about you lately, Billy. They call you a 'lost soul.'"

"What's that to you?"

"Ah, a great deal," I said, "because I have a message for lost people. I am not a doctor for the body; my business is about the soul."

"I ain't so bad as all that yet," he replied.

"But you are bad enough, Billy--bad enough."

"Yes, indeed," interposed his wife.

"You hold yer tongue; you're no better."

I beckoned to her to be still, and went on to say, "You are bad enough, Billy, for an old man. How old are you?"

"Up seventy years."

"Seventy years!" I repeated. "Well, now, that's a great age--that's the age of man. Threescore years and ten! It is like giving you notice to give up the keys of the old tabernacle. I wonder why G.o.d spares your life? I am afraid you have been a c.u.mberer of the ground all this time, Billy. Do you know why the good Lord has spared you for so long?"

"I can't tell," he said, getting more and more impatient.

"Well, do you know, I think I can tell you. He is such a loving and merciful G.o.d, He wants to have mercy on you. You could not have greater proof of it, could you? You set a horribly bad example; you do nothing but drink, and smoke, and swear. You have asked G.o.d to d.a.m.n your soul over and over again, and yet here you are still. Why is this?"

He did not answer, but seemed interested; so I went on to speak of the forbearance of G.o.d towards him. I said, "Billy, do you know that I think the Lord wants to have mercy on you? He wants to save you!" As he listened, I went on to tell him that G.o.d loved him, and gave His Son to die for him. Then I proceeded to speak of the wonderful patience and long-suffering of G.o.d--a kind of crown upon His love; and what a shame it was to sin against such love as this.

Poor Billy looked at me with tears in his eyes, and said, "You are a dear man!"

"Dear man!" I answered. "What, then, is G.o.d, if I am 'dear' only for telling you of His love? Ah, Billy, take and give your heart to G.o.d at once. He is waiting for you. It is a shame to refuse such a G.o.d."

I knelt down and began to pray for him. He soon fell on his knees too, and sobbed aloud; then he commenced to pray in his own way. He needed much teaching, so when he rose from his knees I said to him, "Now, Billy, I have been to see you; it is your turn to some and see me next.

When will you come?"

"This afternoon," he said. "Very good; come this afternoon." And he did.

More than that, this poor "lost soul" found peace in my study, to his great joy; and he was not ashamed to acknowledge it openly, nor afraid to praise G.o.d for His great goodness.

The same evening he stood up in the schoolroom meeting, and told the people what the Lord had done for his soul. There was great excitement that night, and well there might be, for every one knew what a daring and wicked man he had been. One man said that "if a corpse had come out of the churchyard and spoken, he could not have been more frightened"

(more surprised, he meant).

Old Billy's conversion gave a new and fresh impetus to the work, and many more souls were added to the Lord.

This dear man lived for three months after this, verifying the words I was led to say to him at the beginning of our intercourse--that the Lord was keeping him alive in order to have mercy upon him. At the end of this time, his daughter came to me one morning in great haste, and said, "Father is dying, and does so want to see you. Will you come?" I went immediately. On reaching his house and entering: his bedroom, his wife said, "You are too late; he is dead!" Softly I moved forward to the bed, and looking on that face once more, I thought that I could still see signs of life. Pressing his cold hand, I spoke a few words about the loving kindness of the Lord. He knew me, and a smile brightened his face at the precious name of Jesus. While we stood silently round his dying bed, he said (evidently in reference to what he had heard), "not dead; just beginning to live." Thus, with a sweet, triumphant smile, he departed.

CHAPTER 13

Cottage Meetings, 1852.

Our steps were now directed to another part of the parish, where we commenced a series of cottage meetings in alternation with services in the church. These meetings were inaugurated in a very remarkable manner, in the house of a man named "Frank," who was well known as an exceedingly wicked and careless fellow. His wife was among the fruits of the revival, and prayed much for him; but the more she did so, the worse he became. I used to try and comfort her with the thought that if he did not give himself to G.o.d to be made better, it was well that he got worse, for it was a proof that her prayers were telling; total indifference would have been a far more discouraging sign.

This was poor comfort to her, however, for he came home night after night drunk; or if not so, swearing about the revival in the church, and her praying. He often declared that if he ever caught me in his house, he would "give me something for myself." He was at all times a very irascible man, and being troubled with a wooden leg, it made him worse.

As he was unable to work in the mine, he was dependent for his support on the parish authorities, who employed him to break stones on the road.

Notwithstanding his bad temper and ill-feeling towards me, I always stopped at his heap of stones when pa.s.sing, and talked to him either about the weather or some other trivial subject, being quite satisfied that he knew the plan of salvation, as I had spoken to him about his soul at the time of his wife's conversion.

One day, when coming along, I observed Frank before me in the road, busy, as usual, breaking stones, and began to think what I would speak to him about, having no particular news to communicate. While I was thus pondering, I came to his place, when, to my great astonishment, he was not there. I looked around on all sides, and called, "Frank--Frank!" but in vain--no one answered. There was no hedge or tree within sight for him to hide behind; where could he be? All at once, I remembered that there was a small gravel-pit about twenty-five or thirty yards from the spot, but scarcely thought it possible he could be there. I went towards it, however, still calling, "Frank--Frank!" and yet received no answer.

On looking in, sure enough, there was my man, lying down in the pit, close up to the side, with his face to the ground. I said, "Frank, is that you? What are you doing there? Are you ill?"

"No," he replied, "I'm not. What d'yer want with me?"

"Nothing in particular," I said; "but to tell the truth, I was so surprised at your disappearance, that I could not pa.s.s on without looking for you. I was so sure that I saw you in the distance, sitting in your place; and then, when I came up, you were not there. I wondered whether I had seen your ghost instead of you, and whether you were dead or what. Are you hiding away from me?"

Rising up, he said, "I had a terrible dream last night which frightened me very much. A voice said, 'Go and see Mr. Haslam about your soul.' I said, 'I will, I will, the first thing in the morning.' When the morning came, I thought the evening would do; and when I saw you coming, it made me tremble so, that I got up and hid myself here."

I said, "Frank, it is no use for you to fight against G.o.d, or to stand out against your wife's prayers. You had far better give in."

He then told me that his dream referred to something in his past life, and sitting down on the bank or side of the gravel pit, he said, 'When I was ill with my leg (which was taken off), the doctor told me what I should die. I then cried to the Lord to have mercy on me, and said that if He would raise me up, I would give my heart to Him. I began to recover from that day, and kept on intending and intending to give my heart to G.o.d; but I never did it. I got quite well in health, but ever since that time I have been getting worse and worse in mind. When my wife was converted, it seemed as if the devil took possession of me altogether, and the Lord warned me again last night."

"Come now," I said, "you had better kneel down here and give up." It was a lonely road on a bare common. "Kneel down," I repeated, "and let us pray." He did so, and after prayer he said, "By G.o.d's help. I will give up."

"No," I replied, "that will not do. Say, 'Lord, take my heart. I do'--not 'I will'--give up.'"

After a short pause, he solemnly said, "I do; Lord, take my heart!" and then began to cry.

I gave him the text, "G.o.d so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life" (John 3:16). "Think over that," I said, "and come to the schoolroom to-night." He did so, and was saved, to the great joy of his soul. After the meeting was over, he remained behind a long time, and gave vent to his feelings with tears, when he remembered the goodness of G.o.d to him.

"This wooden leg of mine," he said, "is a monument of G.o.d's mercy!"

"How is that?" I inquired.

"Several years ago," he said, "I was playing cards for money in a public-house, and was cheating in order to win, when the man I was playing with said, 'You would not have won that money if you had not cheated.' I swore at him, and said, 'G.o.d strike my limbs if I did so!' I knew I had; and the man would not believe that I had not. So we parted."

"The next morning, I was working in the mine, close to a very large piece of rock, which had been loosened with the blasting, when it slipped from its place, and carried me along with it into the shaft. As the heavy end was uppermost, it turned with its own weight, and fell across the shaft, pinning me against the side. This rock was not less than two or three tons weight. Notwithstanding the fearful shock, I retained my senses; but one leg was smashed, and the other severely wounded. 'G.o.d struck my limbs!' I cried for help; and when the men who were attracted by my screams found me, they saw at once that it was impossible to extricate me without moving the rock. There I remained for more than two hours, till they had put a sling around my body. Having done that, they adjusted a strong chain to the rock and lifted the end.

As soon as they succeeded in raising it, down it went, carrying plate, ladders, and all before it, to the bottom of the shaft, which was many fathoms deep, whilst I was left hanging in the sling. They then drew me up, and took me to the hospital, where one leg was taken off and the other set; but I was very ill for a long time. Oh, just think, if that rock had not pinned my legs to the wall of the shaft, I should have been in h.e.l.l now! The Lord saved my life then--and has saved my soul now!"

Dear Frank became a very zealous Christian, and for many years preached the Gospel with much power and acceptance. After his conversion, he came one morning to beg my pardon for having forbidden me his house, and to ask if I would come and hold a meeting there for his neighbours.

I did; and there was such a crowd inside, and also outside the house, and so much blessing, that I was not satisfied with one visit, but went again and again.

The place was most inconveniently full; they turned out the chairs and tables to make standing-room inside, and opened the windows and doors for the people to hear outside; and sometimes, before the address was over, men and women cried aloud for mercy. We could not kneel down to pray--praying, singing, and hearing was done standing, and, that very close together. The house was so uncomfortably thronged, that a miller in the neighbourhood, who had a large room in the mill, begged me to come and preach there instead. I accepted his invitation, and we went; but, alas! there was no power there; it was hard to pray or preach; and the people were not even attentive. Thus it was clearly seen that it is not by might or by power of men, but by the Spirit of the Lord; and that if the Lord was not present to work, no work was done. We went back to Frank's cottage, and there again the manifest presence of G.o.d was discernible; and every time we did so souls were saved.

Next door to Frank lived a tall, gaunt, gipsy kind of woman, whom they called "the wise woman." She had a marvellous gift of healing, and other knowledge, which made people quite afraid of her. This woman took a great interest in me and my work, and often came to church, besides attending the meetings at Frank's house.

One day, during these services, she paid a visit to the Parsonage, and said, "My dear, have you a lemon in the house?" I went to inquire and found that we had not. "Well, then," she said, "get one, and some honey and vinegar, and mix them all together. You will want it. Mind you do, now," she said, drawing herself up to her full height; "mind you do, you will want it!" Then she put the bowl of her pipe into the kitchen fire, and having ignited the tobacco, went away smoking.