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Loraque le document eat trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un aeul clichA, il eat film* A partir de i'angle aupArieur gauche, de gauche H droite, et de haut en baa, en prenant le nombre d'imagea nAceaaaire. Lea diagrammea auivanta illuatrent la mAthode. >V errata ed to mt me pelure, a^on d 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 Cbe lUotnan lUDo dm Berselt By ELIZABETH CHENEY. Woman's Foreign Missionary Society. Presbyterian 6hurcli in Ganida. (Western Division.) ■-,-t*i^:»i.l£- ./,■ TheWoman Who Gave Herself By Elizabeth Cheney. ELIZABETH Payson Prentiss bcautifully expressed what many another soul has ' silently felt, when she wrote, " A little room all of my own, and a regular hour morning and night, all of my own, would enable me, I think, to say, * Now let Hfe do its worst! ' " Little Mrs. Lynfold, with a large family in a small house and a pocket book whose sides were never extended perceptibly by anything but newspaper clippings, often declared to herself that she would *' give up and die " if it were not for the bolt on the inside of the attic storeroom door. She had bought that bolt and put it on herself, unknown to any one. In among the scrap-bags hanging from the rafters, and the piles of trunks and boxes, there was the Bethel of one soul pressing its way heavenward. Not that she ever had a whole hour night or morning to herself. The most of her praying had to be done a-foot; and, like Aaron, she burned incense while she filled the lamps. But there were sometimes precious, odd bits of time when she could kneel at the Master's feet, and " take unto her words." No one had €ver discovered this sacred eyrie of the housemother, up three flights of stairs from J) t the basement kitchen, where so much of her time had to be spent. Baby Ben knew about it, for he had oftentimes been deposited therein on a big comfortable when the weather was neither too warm nor top cold, and he kept the secret well, as his vocabulary consisted of only three words. It was not an attractive spot from an aesthetic standpoint, but the narrow window admitted light enough for the reading of a passage in the coarse-print Bible that always lay on the old wooden chair, a rough altar, truly, with no cloth of gold, but angels ministered there many a time when the tempter had fled in defeat. Mrs. Lynfold was thinking of this one quiet nook in life's turmoil as she has- tened home from the afternoon meeting of the missionary auxiliary, for her soul was filled with wnrest and discontent. She walked hurriedly, thankful that Aunt Abby was there and that supper was ready to place on the table*, except for fresh boiling water for the tea, and that she could have a few minutes in which to pour out her trouble before the Lord. The boys yelled a welcome as she entered the yard, and bore down upon her like a pair of wild Apaches. She escaped from their embraces with her best hat over one . ear, onlv to encounter small Bess at the front door in tears over a broken doll, Kath- aryn in despair at the piano because of a difficult exercise; her oldest son, Kent, stranded in his Virgil, and waiting for mother, who had been a good Latin scholar in her day, to float him oflf; while the baby. perfectly contented until he espied his best triend, almost sprang out of Aunt Abby's arms, crying lustily. . , " Well,, Helen," said Aunt Abby with a bit of a sigh, '* it must seem good to a woman to be perfectly indispensable to some corner of the universe ! " The kindly word carried Mrs. Lynfold through, the next two hours, and when the supper dishes were washed and the younger children were in bed, she stole softly up to her little sanctum. Mrs. Lynfold was an enthusiastic believer in foreign missions, but although her heart was large enough to. endow a dozen orphan- ages and hospitals, she had felt that she could give only the " two cents a week and a prayer." In fact, her heaviest cross was that thin pocket-book. With all her thrift and industry and faculty for making something out of nothing, it was impossible for the Lynfolds to get ahead financially. Mr. Lyn- fold had a fair salary as a bookkeeper, but six vigorous children can rriake incredible inroads on the stock of the butcher, baker and grocer, to say nothing of the shoemaker, and ithere were clothes for spring and fall, and always the rent to meet, and an occas- ional doctor's bill. The best they could do was to live in reasonable comfort and keep^ out of debt. That day at the missionary meeting, Judge Wellford's widow had read an autograph letter from her very own Bible- woman, a thrilling account of oi.e day's work in the zenanas, where souls were turning eagerly toward the Light of the World. Mrs. Wellford read the letter with great satisfac- tion, and Mrs. Lynfold had listened with hot tears rising to her eyes. It seemed to her that one of the choicest privileges in the world was to employ a Bible-woman. •' Only thirty dollars a yearl " Mrs. Presi- dent was saying. Mrs. Lynfold smiled a grim little smile. Thirty dollars was not as much for Mrs. Wellford as thirty cents was to the Lynfold exchequer. She thought of the new parlor carpet that must be considered, not in the subjunctive, but in the imperative mood, for there were holes wearing throug'h that no rug could possibly cover; of the alarming ^'condition of the flour barrel (the scoop had touched bottom that very day); and of the broken springs in the dining-room sofa. It is agony to a niggardly soul U' der pressure of fear or policy to open the creaking door of the storehouse to, the world's need; but it is more exquisite torture for a generous na- ture to have nothing to give. Mrs. Lynfold felt as if she were thrust into prison with her feet in the stocks, and no songs of praise on her Jips. She did not stop to chat after the> meeting. She, who knew so well the good news of salvation, must hold it back from those sad thousands, simply because she had no money. It was this that had burdened her spirit and sent her in the early evening to talk with Jesus. " Dear Lord! " she cried, "Thou knowest that I do not envy Mrs, Wellford her fine house, her servants,, her horses^ her lovely clothes, but oh, how is it, when she loves J the heathen .no better than I do, that she can send Thy truth to so many, many women, while I have but two cents a week to give!" Then she found herself praying the prayer of Jabez, " O, that Thou wouldsit bless me indeed, and enlarge my border!" As she knelt there in the shadows some- thing from which she shrank presented itself to her mind. She had thought of several ways in which God might grant her desire. Mr. Lynford's salary might be raised, or those old worthless investments in mining stock might come to something after all, or her father's cousin, Reuben, might open his heart and his purse and send her a handsome present. Buit this, that the Spirit was whis- pering, oh, no, she couldn't do that! She wanted to give money as Mrs. Wellford gave it. easily and gracefully from a well-filled purse. What was this word that was urging in upon her consciousness, so searching and personal, dropping slowly down like a plum- met into the depths of her consecration, and finding it not deep enough to bear up a great sacrificial purpose? She buried her face in her hands. The word was that of Paul to the Corinthians, " Not yours, but you.** Yes, she knew there were only forty mem- bers of the Woman's Foreign Missionary Society in the great church to which she belonged. Forty women out of three hun- dred and fifty! She knew that most of them had never had the work brought to their personal attention. Would she undertake 1 J that task? Did she love Christ enough to do it? Did she care enough for those suffer- ing heathen women to do it? It meant so many steps, so many words, so much tact and patience and faith and courage, and so many encounters with indifference and un- belief, perhaps with contempt. The call grew clearer and stronger; the struggle with self- will and fear was brief. Whom God appoints He anoints. " Only baptize me with Thy Spirit, Lord, for this service!" prayed Helen Lynfold; and like every soul that passes over Peniel, she found it was sunrise. In that little attic storeroom, God had given her a commission. It was not roman- tic nor remote; but light and love came with it that she had never known. She went at the task quietly, and pursued it unobtrusive- ly. She was sure that God would direct her every step, and so when the days were filled with home duties she did not fret at delay. She supplied herself with the best leaflets, and with copies of the ** ridings" which she distributed in a manner that made them ac- ceptable and insured their perusal. Occasions- ally after earnest prayer she would make a call, with, the express purpose of securing a new member for the auxiliary, but it was difficult for her to get out of an afternoon, and it was surprising how ilfiany ladies called upon her, and so brought into her own parlor the coveted opportunity for saying a word for the cause she loved. She often wondered at the interest the truth awakened, at the kind- ness with which her advances were met, and at the almost unfailing success of her efforts. She did not know that there was a light in her eyes, a magnetism in her voice, a tender- ness and force in her simple eloquence that came of the fulneso of the Spirit of Jesus, and stirred many hearts. In six months she had secured without any flurry of excitement or parade of lofty intent one hundred new members and fifty subscriptions. Of these, one woman of wealth undertook the sup- port of an orphan in China, two others each pledged themselves to sustain a Bible- woman in Japan; but best of all, bright, beautiful Agnes Carrol, having joined the society, became imtensely interested, and was- called to the foreign field. The night before she left home for the Missionary Training Institute, she bent and kissed Mrs. Lynfold on the forehead, saying: " It was your hand, dear, that opened the door of service to my idle feet, and I caught a glimpse of a life so attractive that I could not hold back. Whatever I may know of blessedness or reward in my life work must be shared with you." And thus it happened, all unknown to earth, but recorded in heaven, that of all the noble host of women who toiled that year for the advancement of Christ's king- dom, the one whose achievement stood sec- ond to none in far-reaching results was the little woman with the thin pocket-book, who gave herself. Adapted from leaflet of the M. E. Church. W. P. M. S. Publications, 8 HENUSRSON & CO. Prlnterii, Toronto.